But, at the supreme moment, events greatly favoured Clinton. Pierre Van Cortlandt, Obadiah German, and other members of Congress appeared upon the scene, bringing the story of Madison's unpopularity and bearing letters from Gideon Granger, the postmaster-general, urging the support of Clinton. Granger belonged to Connecticut, and, except William Eustis, about to retire as an inefficient secretary of war, was the only cabinet officer from a northern State. He knew that not a dozen northern members of Congress sincerely favoured war, and that not a man in the party save Madison himself, sincerely favoured the President's renomination; but he also knew that the South had determined to force the issue; and so in a powerful document he demanded the nomination of a man who, when conflict came, could shorten it by a vigorous administration. This appeal lifted the Clinton movement above the level of an ordinary state nomination.

On the day of his selection, DeWitt Clinton believed his chances more than even. Though the declaration of war had popularised Madison in the South and West, and, in a measure, solidified the Republicans in the North, the young aspirant still counted on a majority of malcontents and Federalists. The best obtainable information indicated that three Republicans in Massachusetts would unite with the Federalists in choosing Clinton electors; that the rest of New England would act with Massachusetts; and that Clinton would also obtain support in Maryland, Ohio, North Carolina, Delaware, New Jersey, and, possibly, Virginia. "If Pennsylvania should be combined," Clinton said to Gouverneur Morris, "I would come out all right." As late, too, as the middle of September, Rufus King ventured the opinion to Christopher Gore that while North Carolina was still uncertain, Delaware, New Jersey and Maryland would probably become Clintonian, although Pennsylvania and Vermont would be "democratic and Madisonian."

To the Federalist leaders, Clinton called himself an American Federalist. If chosen President he engaged to make immediate peace with England, and to oppose the views of those Southern States which sought to degrade the Northern States by oppressing commerce.[167] It was this suggestion that led to a secret conference between Clinton, John Jay, Rufus King and Gouverneur Morris, held at the latter's home on August 5, to consider the advisability of forming a peace party. Few scenes in political history are more dramatic than this meeting of Clinton and the three Federalist leaders of the Empire State. King at first objected to taking any part. He looked on Clinton, he said, as one who could lead only so long as he held the views and prejudices of his followers, and who, unless a large body of Republicans came with him, was not worth accepting. But King finally consented to be present, after Jay, although in ill health, promised to join them. Morris was pleased to undertake his part, for association with Clinton upon the Canal Commission had made them somewhat intimate. It was agreed to exclude every topic except the plan of forming a peace party. The hour fixed was two in the afternoon; but it was five o'clock before Clinton entered the stately library at Morrisania.

In opening the interview, Morris simply read the resolutions prepared for a peace meeting. "Then Clinton observed," says Rufus King, "that he did not differ from us in opinions respecting public affairs, and that he entirely approved the resolutions; but, as his friends, comprehending a great majority of the Republican party in the State, were divided in their opinions respecting the war—prejudices against England leading some of them to approve the war—time was necessary to bring them to one opinion. Disastrous events had already happened, and owing to the incapacity of the national administration still further misfortunes would occur, and would serve to produce an union of opinion respecting the war; that for these reasons the proposed peace meeting should be deferred four or five weeks; in the interim he would confer with his friends for the purpose of bringing about a common opinion, and apprise the movers of his ulterior views on Monday, August 10, when the canal commissioners would hold a meeting."[168]

During the now historic interview, Clinton said that the President's incapacity made it impossible for him longer to continue his party relation; and he pledged his honour that the breach between them was irreparable. Yet, on account of his friends as well as his own account, he said, he deemed it expedient to avoid publicity on the subject. He spoke of Spencer with bitterness, styling him "his creature," whom Armstrong governed, and who, in turn, influenced Tompkins and John Taylor. "Armstrong," he repeated, "while engaged in measures to procure a peace meeting in Dutchess County over which he had promised to preside, had been bought off by the miserable commission of a brigadier-general."[169]

As the campaign grew older, the Federalists were perplexed and distracted by an increasing uncertainty as to what they should do. This was especially true of those who sighed for power and despaired of getting it through the continuance of a Federalist party. Rufus King, clear as to the course which ought to be followed, earnestly advised his friends to nominate a respectable Federalist, not with the expectation of succeeding in the election, but for the purpose of keeping the Federal body unbroken in principle; that its character and influence might be reserved for the occasion which, in the present course of affairs, he said, could not fail to arrive. King, however, failed to influence his friends. On September 15, in a convention of sixty or more delegates from all the States north of the Potomac, it was recommended that, as it would be inexpedient to name a Federal candidate because impractical to elect one, Federalists should co-operate in the election of a President who would be likely to pursue a different policy from Madison.

This resolution was largely due to the eloquence of Harrison Gray Otis. He urged that the defeat of Madison would speedily lead to a peace, for which the door stood open in the repeal of the Orders in Council. Rufus King insisted that the name all had in mind be given in the resolution; although, he admitted, no one knew whether Clinton would pursue a policy different from Madison's. No man in the country, he said, was more equivocal in his character. He had disapproved the embargo and then receded from his opinion; and, to restore himself to the confidence of his party, he had published a tirade against the Federalists. "If we succeed in promoting his election," thundered the orator, "I fear we may place in the chair a Cæsar Borgia instead of a James Madison."[170] These were bitter words, recalling Hamilton's famous criticism of Aaron Burr, but they were spoken without the wealth of Hamilton's experience to support them. That Clinton would sacrifice his own interests and his own ambition for the sake of any political cause no one could believe; that he had played fast and loose for a time with the great question of embargo was too well known to be denied; but that anything had occurred in his public career to justify Rufus King's simile, his worst enemies could not seriously credit. Even Christopher Gore was compelled to admit that the Federal leaders of Massachusetts "are favourably impressed with the character and views of Clinton. Indeed, since last spring I have scarcely heard any one speak of him but extolled the excellence of his moral character and the purity of his present political views."[171] To this King simply replied: "I stated my sentiments to the meeting, a great majority of whom thought them incorrect. Time, which reveals truth, must decide between us."[172]

By the middle of September, Clinton exhibited lamentable weakness as a political organiser. Opposing him, he had the whole power of state and national administrations, and the most prominent men of the party, led by Erastus Root. Besides, a new Legislature, elected in the preceding April, had a Republican majority on joint ballot divided between Clintonians and Madisonians; and, still further to perplex the situation, twenty Republican assemblymen absolutely refused to vote unless Madison were given a fair division of the electors. This meant the surrender of one elector out of three, an arrangement to which Clinton dared not consent.

Clinton, though seriously impressed by the gravity of his position, seems to have done nothing to clear the way; but the hour of crisis brought with it the man demanded. During recent years a new and very remarkable figure in political life had been coming to the front. Martin Van Buren, afterward President of the United States, was establishing his claim to the position of commanding influence he was destined to hold during the next three decades. His father, an innkeeper in the village of Kinderhook, gave him a chance to learn a little English at the common schools, and a little Latin at the academy. At the age of fourteen, he began sweeping an office and running errands for a country attorney, who taught him the law. Then he went to New York City to finish his education in the office of William P. Van Ness, an old Columbia County neighbour, at that time making his brilliant and bitter attack as "Aristides" upon the Clintons and the Livingstons. A year later, in 1803, Van Buren celebrated his twenty-first birthday by forming a partnership in Kinderhook with a half-brother, James J. Van Alen, already established in the practice. In 1808, he became surrogate; and when the Legislature convened in November, 1812, he took a seat in the Senate, the youngest man save one, it is said, until then elected to that body.

Martin Van Buren had shown unusual sagacity as a politician. Born under conditions which might have disheartened one of different mould, bred in a county given up to Federalism, and taught in the law for six years by an uncompromising follower of Hamilton, he nevertheless held steadfastly to the Jeffersonian faith of his father. Nor would he be moved in his fealty to the Clintons, although Van Ness, his distinguished law preceptor, worshipped Burr and hated his enemies. As a very young man, Van Buren was able to see that the principles of Republicanism had established themselves in the minds of the great majority of the people interested in political life, and if he had been persuaded that Aaron Burr and his Federalist allies were to be restored to power in 1804, he was far too shrewd to be tempted by the prospects of such a coalition. He had also shown, from his first entrance into politics, a remarkable capacity for organisation. He had courage, a social and cheerful temper, engaging manners, and extraordinary application. He also had the happy faculty of guiding without seeming to dictate; he could show the way without pushing one along the path. Finally, back of all, was the ability that soon made him the peer of Elisha Williams, the ablest lawyer in a county famous for its brilliant men, enabling him quickly to outgrow the professional limitations of Kinderhook, and to extend his practice far beyond the limits of the busy city of Hudson.