There was nothing in this statement to rebuke. Young Erskine had been displaced by an English minister who had acquired the reputation of being an edged-tool against neutral nations, a curiously narrow, hide-bound politician, whose language was as insolent as his manners were offensive. The Governor's reference, therefore, had not been too severe, nor had his statement overleaped the truth; yet Jonas Platt attacked it with great asperity, arraigning the national administration and charging that the country had more cause for war with France than with Great Britain. This was both unwise and untenable. The Governor had aimed his criticism at France as well as at England. He spoke of one as controlling the destinies of the European continent, of the other as domineering upon the ocean, and of both as overleaping "the settled principles of public law, which constituted the barriers between the caprice, the avarice, or the tyranny of a belligerent, and the rights and independence of a neutral." But Jonas Platt, betrayed by his prejudices against Jefferson and France, went on with an argument well calculated to give his opponents an advantage. His language was strong and clear, his sarcasm pointed; but it gave DeWitt Clinton the opportunity of charging Federalists with taking sides with the British against their own country.
There never was a time when the Federalists, as a national party, were willing to join hands with England to the disadvantage of their country. They had the same reasons for disliking England that animated their opponents. But their antipathy to Jacobins and to Jefferson, and the latter's partiality for France, drove them into sympathy with Great Britain's struggle against Napoleon, until the people suspected them of too great fondness for English institutions and English principles. Several events, too, seemed to justify such a suspicion, notably the adherence of British Tories to the Federalist party, and the latter's zeal to allay hostile feelings growing out of the Revolutionary war. To such an extent had this sentimental sympathy been carried, that, in the summer of 1805, the Federalists of Albany, having a majority in the common council, foolishly refused to allow the Declaration of Independence to be read as a part of the exercises in celebration of the Fourth of July. Naturally, such a policy quickly aroused every inherited and cultivated prejudice against the British, strengthening the belief that the Federalists, as a party, were willing to suppress the patriotic utterances of their own countrymen rather than injure the feelings of America's hereditary foe.
When DeWitt Clinton, therefore, charged the party of Jonas Platt with taking the side of the British against their own country, the debate revived old tales of cruelty and massacre, growing out of England's alliance with the Indians in the early days of the Revolution; and it gave John Taylor opportunity to recount the horrors which he had witnessed in the days of his country's extreme peril. Taylor was sixty-eight years old. For nearly twenty years he had been a member of the Legislature, and was soon to be lieutenant-governor for nearly ten years more. Before the Revolutionary war, he served in the Provincial Congress; and in Arnold's expedition to Canada, in 1775, he had superintended the commissary department, contributing to the comfort of the shattered remnant who stood with Montgomery on the Plains of Abraham on that ill-fated last day of the year.
Taylor was a man of undoubted integrity and great political sagacity. His character suffered, perhaps, because a fondness for money kept growing with his growing years. "For a good old gentlemanly vice," says Byron, "I think I must take up with avarice." Taylor did not wait to be an old gentleman before adopting "the good old gentlemanly vice," but it did not seem to hurt him with the people, for he kept on getting rich and getting office. He was formed to please. His tall, slender form, rising above the heads of those about him, made his agreeable manners and easy conversation the more noticeable, gaining him the affection of men while challenging their admiration for his ability.
In 1760, Taylor had followed the British army to Oswego, and there acquired a knowledge of the Indian language. He knew of the alliance between the British and Indians in 1776, and had witnessed the horrible massacres growing out of these treaty relations. The most tragic stories of Indian atrocities begin with the payment of bounties by the British for the scalps of women and children, and for the capture of men and boys who would make soldiers. Often guided by Tories, the fierce Mohawks sought out the solitary farmhouse, scalped the helpless, and, with a few prisoners, started back on their lonely return journey to Canada, hundreds of miles through the forest, simply to receive the promised reward of a few Spanish dollars from their British allies. When DeWitt Clinton, therefore, charged the Federalists with loving the English more than their own country, John Taylor won the Senate by recalling Indian atrocities set on foot by British officers, and often carried out with the assistance of British Tories, now members of the Federalist party. Daniel Parrish, a senator from the eastern district, having more courage than eloquence, came to Platt's support with the most exact and honest skill, repelling the insinuations of Clinton, and indignantly denying Taylor's tactful argument. But when Taylor, pointing his long, well-formed index finger at the eastern senator, expressed surprise and grief to hear one plead the English cause whose father had been foully murdered by an Indian while under British pay and British orders, Parrish lost his temper and Platt his cause.
It was a sad day for Platt. So successfully did Taylor revive the old Revolutionary hatred of the British that the Herkimer statesman's arraignment of Governor Tompkins, offered as a substitute for DeWitt Clinton's friendly answer, was rejected by a vote of twenty-three to six. Coming as it did on the eve of the gubernatorial election it was too late to retrieve his lost position. Moreover, the repeal of the embargo had materially weakened the Federalists and correspondingly strengthened the Republicans, since the commerce of New York quickly revived, giving employment to the idle and bread to the hungry. The conviction deepened, also, that a Republican administration was sincerely impartial in sentiment between the two belligerents, and that the present foreign policy, ineffective as it might be, fitted the emergency better than a bolder one. Added to this, was the keen desire of the Republicans to recover the offices which had been lost through the apostacy of Robert Williams; and although the Federalists struggled like drowning men to hold their ill-gotten gains, the strong anti-British sentiment, backed by a determination to approve the policy of Madison, swept the State, re-electing Governor Tompkins by six thousand majority[156] and putting both branches of the Legislature in control of the Republicans. Surely, Jonas Platt was never to be governor.
In the heated temper of the triumphant party, the new Council of Appointment, chosen soon after the Legislature convened in January, 1811, began removing officials with a fierceness that in our day would have brought shame and ruin upon any administration. It was a Clinton Council, and only Clintonians took office. Jacob Radcliff again turned over the New York mayoralty to DeWitt Clinton; Abraham Van Vechten gave up the attorney-generalship to Matthias B. Hildreth; Daniel Hale surrendered the secretaryship of state to Elisha Jenkins; Theodore V.W. Graham bowed his adieus to the recordership of Albany as John Van Ness Yates came in; and James O. Hoffman, Cadwallader D. Colden, and John W. Mulligan, as recorder, district attorney, and surrogate of New York, respectively, hastened to make way for their successors. As soon as an order could reach him, Thomas J. Oakley, surrogate of Dutchess County, vacated the office that the treachery of his father-in-law had brought him. It was another clean sweep throughout the entire State. Even Garrett T. Lansing, because he once belonged to the Lewisites, found the petty office of master in chancery catalogued among the "spoils."