A Political History of the State of New York, Volumes 1-3

by De Alva Stanwood Alexander

What would have happened had the treaty been published before election, fills one with interested conjecture. Its disclosure on July 2, the day after Jay's inauguration, turned the applause of that joyous occasion into the most exasperating abuse. Such a sudden and tempestuous change in the popularity of a public official is unprecedented in the history of American politics. In a night the whole State was thrown into a ferment of intense excitement, the storm of vituperation seeming to centre in New York city. Jay was burned in effigy; Hamilton was struck in the face with a stone while defending Jay's work; a copy of the treaty was burned before the house of the British Minister; riot and mob violence held carnival everywhere. Party spirit never before, and never since, perhaps, ran so high. One effigy represented Jay as saying, while supporting a pair of scales, with the treaty on one side and a bag of gold on the other, "Come up to my price, and I will sell you my country." Chalked in large white letters on one of the principal streets in New York, appeared these words: "Damn John Jay! Damn every one that won't damn John Jay!! Damn every one that won't put lights in his windows and sit up all night damning John Jay!!!"[72] This revulsion of public sentiment was not exactly a tempest in a teapot, but it proved a storm of limited duration, the elections in the spring of 1796 showing decided legislative gains for the Federalists.

Hamilton divined the cause of the trouble. "There are three persons," he wrote,[73] "prominent in the public eye as the successor of the President—Mr. Adams, Mr. Jay, and Mr. Jefferson.... Mr. Jay has been repeatedly the object of attacks with the same view. His friends, as well as his enemies, anticipated that he could make no treaty which would not furnish weapons against him; and it were to have been ignorant of the indefatigable malice of his adversaries to have doubted that they would be seized with eagerness and wielded with dexterity. The peculiar circumstances which have attended the two last elections for governor of this State have been of a nature to give the utmost keenness to party animosity. It was impossible that Mr. Jay should be forgiven for his double, and, in the last instance, triumphant success; or that any promising opportunity of detaching from him the public confidence, should pass unimproved.... Trivial facts frequently throw light upon important designs. It is remarkable that in the toasts given on July 4, 1795, whenever there appears a direct or indirect censure of the treaty, it is pretty uniformly coupled with compliments to Mr. Jefferson, and to our late governor, Mr. Clinton, with an evident design to place those gentlemen in contrast to Mr. Jay, and, decrying him, to elevate them. No one can be blind to the finger of party spirit, visible in these and similar transactions. It indicates to us clearly one powerful source of opposition to the treaty."

The treaty was undoubtedly a disappointment to the country, and not greatly pleasing to Washington. Perhaps Jay said the best thing that could be said in its favour: "One more favourable was not attainable." The thing he was sent especially to do, he failed to accomplish, except the evacuation of the posts, and a concession as to the West Indian trade, which the Senate rejected. Nevertheless the country was greatly and permanently benefited. The treaty acquired extradition for criminals; it secured the collection of debts barred by the Revolution, amounting to ten million dollars; it established the principle that war should not again be a pretext for the confiscation of debts or for the annulment of contracts between individuals; and it avoided a war with England, for which the United States was never more unprepared. "As the first treaty negotiated under the new government," says John W. Foster, "it marked a distinct advance in international practice."[74] In a recent biography of Andrew Jackson, Professor Sumner says: "Jay's treaty was a masterpiece of diplomacy, considering the times and the circumstances of this country." Even the much-criticised commercial clause, "the entering wedge," as Jay called it, proved such a gain to America, that upon the breaking out of war in 1812, Lord Sheffield declared that England had "now a complete opportunity of getting rid of that most impolitic treaty of 1794, when Lord Grenville was so perfectly duped by Jay."[75]

John Jay's first term as governor was characteristically cautious and conservative. He began with observing the proprieties, gracefully declining the French Consul's invitation to a republican entertainment, and courageously remaining at his post during the yellow fever epidemic of 1795. With equal ease he settled the growing conflict between the severity of the past and the sympathy of the present, by changing the punishment in cases of ordinary felony, from death to imprisonment. Up to that time men might have been executed for stealing a few loaves of high-priced bread to relieve the sufferings of a hungry family. Under Jay's humane plea for mercy the death penalty was limited to treason, murder, and stealing from a church. A quarter of a century passed before Sir James Mackintosh succeeded in carrying a similar measure through the British Parliament.

In his first message Jay recommended neither the abolition of slavery, nor the discontinuance of official changes for political reasons, "since the best and most virtuous men," he said, "must, in the distribution of patronage, yield to the influence of party considerations." As the only important questions before him just then involved the freedom of slaves and reform in the civil service, his silence as to the one and his declaration as to the other were certainly sufficient to allay any suspicion that he was to become a radical reformer. He did recommend a legislative interpretation of the Constitution relating to the governor's exclusive right to nominate to office; but in the blandest and most complimentary words, the Legislature invited the Governor to let well enough alone. "The evidence of ability, integrity and patriotism," so the answer ran, "which has been invariably afforded by your conduct in the discharge of the variety of arduous and important trusts, authorise us to anticipate an administration conducive to the welfare of your constituents." This amiable answer betrayed the deft hand of Ambrose Spencer, who, to make it sweeter and more acceptable, moved the insertion of the word "invariably."[76] Thus ended the suggestion of a law that might have undone the mischief of Schuyler, and prevented the scandal and corrupt methods that obtained during the next two decades. At least, this is the thought of a later century, when civil service reform has sunk a tap-root into American soil, still frosty, perhaps, yet not wholly congealed as it seems to have been one hundred years ago.

Jay's administration might be called the reward days of earnest, able men, whose meritorious service became their passport to office. Upon the retirement in 1798 of Robert Yates and John Sloss Hobart from the Supreme bench, he appointed James Kent and Jacob Radcliff. If Jay had never done anything else, the appointment of Kent would immortalise him, just as the selection of John Marshall placed a halo about the head of President Adams. Kent, now thirty-five years old, a great lawyer and a strong partisan, had the conservatism of Jay, and held to the principles of Hamilton. He was making brilliant way in politics, showing himself an administrator, a debater, and a leader of consummate ability; but he steadily refused to withdraw from the professional path along which he was to move with such distinction. Until Kent's appearance, the administration of the law had been inefficient and unsatisfactory. Men of ability had occupied the bench; but the laborious and business methods which subsequently gave strength and character to the court, had not been applied. The custom of writing opinions in the most important cases did not then obtain, while the principles and foundation of the law were seldom explored. But Kent began at once, after a most laborious examination of the cases and the law, to bring the written opinions which enrich the reports of Caines and Johnson, to the consultations of the judges, thus setting an example to his associates, and opening the way for that admirable and orderly system of jurisprudence that has adorned the judiciary of New York for more than a century. The men of the older school had had their day. The court of Hobart was closed; the age of Kent had opened.

Radcliff, the other judicial appointee, was not a new name in 1798; but it was destined to become dearer to every lover of a chancery lawyer. He had a natural gift for chancery, and no natural inclination whatever for politics or the bench. So, after serving a single term in the Assembly, two years as an assistant attorney-general, and six years on the Supreme Court, he returned to the practice, to which he devoted the remaining forty years of his life, save when holding the office of mayor of New York in 1810, and again in 1815 during the brief retirement of DeWitt Clinton. Wherever he appeared, Radcliff's erect, dignified bearing and remarkably handsome face, illuminated with large eyes and a highly intellectual expression, marked him as a man of distinction. He set the custom of dictating bills in chancery to an amanuensis, doing it with such accuracy that a word had seldom to be changed. Of the same age as Kent, he must have been of great help to that distinguished jurist, had he continued with the court. While hovering somewhat uncertain between the bench and the bar, he removed to New York City, where the opportunities for one of his gifts soon settled the question.

Other appointments of Jay were equally satisfactory. The comptrollership of state, recently created, went to Samuel Jones in return for having patiently worked out this more perfect method of controlling and disbursing state funds. Ambrose Spencer became an assistant attorney-general, and the appointment of Rufus King as minister to England made room for the election of John Lawrence to the United States Senate. Lawrence had little claim, perhaps, to be entered in the class with Rufus King, since he was neither leader nor statesman; but he had been the faithful adjutant-general of Washington, and a steady, fearless supporter of Hamilton. Lawrence, an Englishman by birth, had settled in New York at an early period in life, and by his marriage to the daughter of Alexander McDougall, quickly came into conspicuous sympathy with the radical wing of the patriotic party. He will always be remembered in history as judge-advocate of the court that tried Major André. He held office almost continuously from 1775 until his death in 1810, serving eight years in the army, one in the State Senate, six in Congress, four as judge of the United States District Court, and four as a United States senator, closing his honourable career as president pro tem. of that body.

As a rebuke to Aaron Burr's snap game so successfully played in 1791, Philip Schuyler succeeded him in the United States Senate in 1797, an event that must have sweetened the closing years of the Revolutionary veteran. But Schuyler was now a sick man, and in January, 1798, he resigned the senatorial toga to others, upon whose shoulders it rested briefly, and possibly with less ease and grace. John Sloss Hobart wore it for three months. After him, for ten months, came William North, followed by James Watson, who, in turn, resigned in March, 1800. Thus, in the short period of thirty-six months, four men tasted the sweets of the exalted position so brilliantly filled by the erratic grandson of Jonathan Edwards. North and Watson were men of certain ability and certain gifts. Both had been soldiers. North had followed Arnold to Quebec, had charged with his regiment at Monmouth, had served with credit upon Baron Steuben's staff,[77] and had acquitted himself with honour at Yorktown. He belonged to that coterie of brilliant young men, noted for bravery and endurance, who quickly found favour with the fighting generals of the Revolution. Watson resigned his captaincy in 1777, and engaged successfully in mercantile pursuits, subsequently entering the Assembly with North, the former becoming speaker in 1794 and the latter in 1795 and 1796. At the time of North's election to the United States Senate, Watson was a member of the State Senate. Like Lawrence, both were perfervid Federalists, zealous champions of Hamilton, and profound believers in the wisdom of minimising, if not abrogating, the rights of States.

Watson's resignation from the United States Senate enabled the Federalists to elect Gouverneur Morris just before the political change in 1800 swept them from power. Morris was a fit successor to Schuyler. His family had belonged to the State for a century and a half. The name stood for tradition and conservatism—an embodiment of the past amid the changes of revolution. His home near Harlaem, an estate of three thousand acres, with a prospect of intermingled islands and water, stretching to the Sound, which had been purchased by a great-grandfather in the middle of the preceding century, reflected the substantial character of its founder, a distinguished officer in Cromwell's army.