The death of Lieutenant-Governor Broome, in the summer of 1810, created a vacancy which the Legislature provided should be filled at the following election in April. John Broome had been distinguished since the olden days when the cardinal policy of New York was the union of the Colonies in a general congress. He had belonged to the Committee of Fifty-one with John Jay, to the Committee of One Hundred with James Duane, and to the Committee of Observation with Philip Livingston. After the Revolution, he became president of the Board of Aldermen, treasurer of the Chamber of Commerce, and, in 1789, had stood for Congress against James Lawrence, the trusted adjutant-general of Washington. Although Broome's overwhelming defeat for Congress in no wise reflected upon his character as a patriot and representative citizen, it kept him in the background until the Federalists had frittered away their power in New York City. Then he came to the front again, first as state senator, and afterward, in 1804, as lieutenant-governor; but he never reached the coveted governorship. In that day, as in this, the office of lieutenant-governor was not necessarily a stepping stone to higher preferment. Pierre Van Cortlandt served with fidelity for eighteen years without getting the long wished-for promotion; Morgan Lewis jumped over Jeremiah Van Rensselaer in 1804; and Daniel D. Tompkins was preferred to John Broome in 1807. Indeed, with the exception of Enos T. Throop, Hamilton Fish, David B. Hill, and Frank W. Higgins, none of the worthy men who have presided with dignity over the deliberations of the State Senate have ever been elected governor.
DeWitt Clinton now wished to succeed Broome; and a large majority of Republican legislators quickly placed him in nomination. Clinton had first desired to return to Albany as senator, as he would then have possessed the right to vote and to participate in debate. But the Martling Men, who held the balance of power, put forward Morgan Lewis, his bitterest enemy. It was a clever move on the part of the ex-Governor. Clinton had literally driven Lewis from the party, and for three years his name remained a reminiscence; but, with the assistance of Tammany, he now got out of obscurity by getting onto the ticket with Governor Tompkins. To add, too, to Clinton's chagrin, Tammany also put up Nathan Sanford for the Assembly, and thus closed against him the door of the Legislature. But to carry out his ambitious scheme—of mounting to the Presidency in 1812—Clinton needed to be in Albany to watch his enemies; and, although he cared little for the lieutenant-governorship, the possession of it would furnish an excuse for his presence at the state capital.
The announcement of DeWitt Clinton's nomination raised the most earnest outcries among the Martling Men. They had endeavoured to defeat his reappointment to the mayoralty; but their wild protests had fallen upon deaf ears. Indeed, the hatred of Minthorne, the intriguing genius of Teunis Wortman, and the earnestness of Matthew L. Davis, seemed only to have been agencies to prepare the way for Clinton's triumphant restoration. Now, however, these accomplished political gladiators proposed to give battle at the polls, and if their influence throughout the State had been as potent as it proved within the wards of New York City, the day of DeWitt Clinton's destiny must have been nearly over.
Since its organisation in 1789, the Society of St. Tammany had been an influential one. It was founded for charitable purposes; its membership was made up mostly of native Americans, and its meetings were largely social in their character.
"There's a barrel of porter at Tammany Hall,
And the Bucktails are swigging it all the night long;
In the time of my boyhood 'twas pleasant to call
For a seat and cigar 'mid the jovial throng."
Thus sang Fitz-Greene Halleck of the social customs that continued far into the nineteenth century. Originally, Federalists and anti-Federalists found a welcome around Tammany's council fire; and its bucktail badge, the symbol of liberty, hung from the hat of Clintonian and Hamiltonian alike. But toward the end of Washington's second administration the society became thoroughly partisan and thoroughly anti-Federalist, shifting its wigwam to the historic "Long Room," at the tavern of Abraham Martling, a favourite hostlery which the Federalists contemptuously called "the Pig-Pen." Then it was, that Aaron Burr made Tammany a power in political campaigns. He does not seem to have been its grand sachem, or any sachem at all; nor is it known that he ever entered its wigwam or affiliated as a member; but its leaders were his satellites, who began manufacturing public opinion, manipulating primaries, dictating nominations, and carrying wards.
Out of Burr's candidacy for President sprang Tammany's long and bitter warfare against DeWitt Clinton. The quarrel began in 1802 when Clinton and Cheetham charged Burr with intriguing to beat Jefferson; it grew in bitterness when Clinton turned Burr and the Swartouts out of the directorate of the Manhattan Bank; nor was it softened after the secret compromise, made at Dyde's Hotel, in February, 1806. Indeed, from that moment, Tammany seemed the more determined to harass the ambitious Clinton; and, although his agents, as late as 1809, sought reconciliation, the society expelled Cheetham and made Clinton an object of detestation. Cheetham, who died in 1810, did not live to wreak full vengeance; but he did enough to arouse a shower of brick-bats which broke the windows of his home and threatened the demolition of the American Citizen.
Though Cheetham's decease relieved Tammany of one of its earliest and most vindictive assailants, the political death of DeWitt Clinton would have been more helpful, since Clinton's opposition proved the more harmful. As mayor he lived like a prince distributing bounty liberally among his supporters. He was lavish in the gift of lucrative offices, lavish in the loan of money, and lavish in contributions to charity. His salary and fees were estimated at twenty thousand dollars, an extravagant sum in days when eight hundred dollars met the expense of an average family, and the possessor of fifty thousand dollars was considered a rich man. Besides, his wife had inherited from her father, Walter Franklin, a wealthy member of the Society of Friends, an estate valued at forty thousand dollars, making her one of the richest women in New York.
But Clinton had more than rich fees and a wealthy wife. The foreign element, especially the Irish, admired him because, when a United States senator, he had urged and secured a reduction of the period of naturalisation from fourteen years to five; and because he relieved the political and financial distress of their countrymen, by aiding the repeal of the alien and sedition laws. For a score of years, America had invited to its shores every fugitive from British persecution. But the heroes of 'Ninety-eight, who had escaped the gibbet, and successfully made their way to this country through the cordon of English frigates, were welcomed with laws even more offensive than the coercion acts which they had left behind. The last rebellious uprising to occur in Ireland under the Georges, had sent Thomas Addis Emmet, brother of the famous and unfortunate Irish patriot, a fugitive to the land of larger liberty. To receive this brother with laws that might send him back to death, was to despise the national sentiment of Irishmen; and the men, Clinton declared, who had been indisposed or unable to take account of the force of a national sentiment, were not and never could be fit to carry on the great work of government.
Thoughtful, however, as DeWitt Clinton had been of the oppressed in other lands, he lacked what Dean Swift said Bolingbroke needed—"a small infusion of the alderman." If he thought a man stupid he let him know it. To those who disagreed with him, he was rude and overbearing. All of what is known as the "politician's art" he professed to despise; and while Tammany organised wards into districts, and districts into blocks, Clinton pinned his faith on the supremacy of intellect, and on office-holding friends. The day the news of his nomination for lieutenant-governor reached New York, Tammany publicly charged him with attempting "to establish in his person a pernicious family aristocracy;" with making complete devotion "the exclusive test of merit and the only passport to promotion;" and with excluding himself from the Republican party by "opposing the election of President Madison." There was much truth in some of these charges. Clinton had quarrelled with Aaron Burr; he had overthrown Morgan Lewis; and he was ready to defeat Daniel D. Tompkins. Even Cheetham had left him some months before his death, and Richard Riker, who acted as second in the duel with John Swartout, was soon to ignore the chilly Mayor when he passed. The estrangement of these friends is pathetic, yet one gets no melancholy accounts of Clinton's troubles. The great clamour of Tammany brought no darkening clouds into his life. He was soon to learn that Tammany, heretofore an object of contempt, was now a force to be reckoned with, but he did not show any qualms of uneasiness even if he felt them.