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

by De Alva Stanwood Alexander

Hostile Republicans were, however, now ready to believe Clinton guilty of any act of turpitude or ingratitude; and so, on February 4, when a legislative caucus renominated Daniel D. Tompkins for governor by acclamation, Clinton received only sixteen votes for lieutenant-governor. There is no evidence that Van Buren took part in Clinton's humiliation; but it is certain he did not act with all the fairness that might have been expected. He could well have said that Clinton was no worse than the majority of his party who had nominated him; that his aim, like theirs, was a vigorous prosecution of the war in the interest of an early peace; that he had no intention of separating himself from the Republican party, and that his renomination for lieutenant-governor would reunite the party, making it more potent to create and support war measures. But Van Buren himself was not beyond danger. Tammany's mutterings and Spencer's violent denunciations threatened to exclude others from the party, and to escape their hostility, this rising young statesman found it convenient to drop Clinton and shout for Tompkins. A less able and clear-headed man might have gone wrong at this parting of the ways, just as did Obadiah German and other friends of Clinton; but Van Buren never needed a guide-post to point out to him the safest political road to travel. The better to prove his party loyalty, he consented to draft the usual grandiloquent address issued by the legislative caucus to Republican electors, always a sophomoric appeal, but quite in accord with the rhetoric of the time. If any doubt existed as to the orthodoxy of Van Buren's Republicanism, this address must have dissipated it. It sustained the general government by forcible argument, and it appealed with fervid eloquence and deep pathos to the patriotism of the people to continue their support of the party.

How great a part Clinton was yet to play in the history of his State no one could foresee. Much speculation has been indulged by writers as to the probable course of history had he been elected President, but the mere fact that he was able to inspire so small a fraction of his party with full faith in his leadership is decisive evidence that he was not then the man of the hour. It is certain that his enemies believed his political life had been brought to an ignoble close. Clinton probably felt that he would have no difficulty in living down the opprobrium put upon him by partisan hostility; and to prove that he was still in the political arena, a little coterie of distinguished friends, led by Obadiah German and Pierre Van Cortlandt, made a circle about him. From this vantage ground he defied his enemies, attacking Madison's conduct of the war with great severity, and protesting against the support of Tompkins and Taylor as the mere tools of Madison.

Clinton's usual good fortune also attended him. As we have seen, the April elections in 1812 returned a Federalist Assembly, which selected a Council of Appointment opposed to Clinton's removal from the mayoralty. It displaced everybody else throughout the State. Clintonians and Madisonians alike suffered, including the able and distinguished Thomas Addis Emmet, an ardent friend of Clinton who had been urged to accept the attorney-generalship after the death of Matthias B. Hildreth in the preceding August. But Clinton had the support of Jonas Platt, the leading member of the Council, and Platt refused to permit his removal. Doubtless the latter hoped to fill up the Federalist ranks with Clintonian recruits; and so with greater confidence than usual the Federalists, when their turn came, nominated Stephen Van Rensselaer for governor and George Huntington of Oneida County for lieutenant-governor.

Aside from the result of the elections of the preceding November, which had given Federalists twenty out of thirty congressmen, it is difficult to understand upon what the party of Hamilton really based its confidence. Before the campaign was a month old, it must have been evident that the defeated candidate for President had as little influence as Van Rensselaer, who, as a major-general of militia in command at Fort Niagara, was a miserable failure. After shivering with fear for sixty days lest Hull's fate overtake him, Van Rensselaer, apparently in sheer desperation, had suddenly ordered a small part of his force across the river to be shot and captured in the presence of a large reserve who refused to go to the assistance of their comrades. The news of this defeat led Monroe to speak of him as "a weak and incompetent man with high pretensions." Jefferson thought Hull ought to be "shot for cowardice" and Van Rensselaer "broke for incapacity."[175]

But the Federalists, unmindful of the real seriousness of that disaster, contested the election with unusual vehemence, until the best informed men of both parties conceded their advantage. The Government's incapacity was abundantly illustrated in the failure of its armies and in the impoverished condition of its treasury, and if the home conditions had been disturbed by distress, the confidence of the Federalists must have been realised. The people of the State, however, had seen and felt nothing of actual warfare. In spite of embargoes and blockades, ample supplies of foreign goods had continued to arrive; and, except along the Niagara frontier, occupied by a few hundred scattered settlers, the farms produced their usual harvests and the industries of life were not impaired. Under these conditions, the voters of the country districts saw no reason for defeating a governor whom they liked, for a man whose military service added nothing to his credit or to the lustre of the State. So, when the election storm subsided, it was found, to the bitter mortification of the Federalists, that while the chief towns, New York, Hudson and Albany, were strong in opposition, Tompkins and Taylor had triumphed by the moderate majority of 3606 in a total vote of over 83,000.[176] The Senate stood three to one in favour of the Republicans. The Assembly was lost by ten votes.

Tompkins was now at the zenith of his political career. He was one of those men not infrequently observed in public life, who, without conspicuous ability, have a certain knack for the management of men, and are able to acquire influence and even a certain degree of fame by personal skill in manipulating patronage, smoothing away difficulties, and making things easy. Nature had not only endowed him with a genius for political diplomacy, but good fortune had favoured his march to popularity by disassociating him with any circumstances of birth or environment calculated to excite jealousy or to arouse the suspicion of the people. He was neither rich nor highly connected. The people knew him by the favourite title of the "farmer's boy," and he never appeared to forget his humble beginnings. "He had the faculty," says James Renwick, formerly of Columbia College, who knew him personally, "of never forgetting the name or face of any person with whom he had once conversed; of becoming acquainted and appearing to take an interest in the concerns of their families; and of securing, by his affability and amiable address, the good opinion of the female sex, who, although possessed of no vote, often exercise a powerful indirect influence." Thus, while still in the early prime of life, he had risen to a position in the State which, even in the case of men with superior intellectual endowments, is commonly the reward of maturer years and longer experience.

From the moment Tompkins became governor in 1807 the strongest ambition of his mind was success in the great game of politics; and, although never a good hater, his capacity for friendship depended upon whether the success of his own career was endangered by the association. Having laid Clinton in the dust, his eye rested upon John Armstrong, who had recently won the appointment of secretary of war. Armstrong had been recalled from Paris at the request of Napoleon, just in time to get in the way of both Clinton and Tompkins. At first he was a malcontent, grumbling at Madison, and condemning the conduct of public affairs generally; but, after the declaration of war, he supported the Administration, and, on July 6, 1812, to the surprise and indignation of Clinton, he accepted a brigadiership, with command of New York City and its defences. Then came the period of danger and urgency following the surrender of Detroit, and Armstrong, on the 6th of February, 1813, to the great embarrassment of Tompkins, obtained quick promotion to the head of the war department.

There seems to have been no reason why Tompkins should have harboured the feeling of rivalry toward Armstrong that he cherished for Clinton. The former was simply a pretentious occupier of high places, without real ability for great accomplishment. His little knowledge of the theory and practice of war was learned on the staff of General Gates, who, Bancroft says, "had no fitness for command and wanted personal courage." It was while Armstrong was dwelling in the tent of this political, intriguing adventurer, that he wrote the celebrated "Newburgh Letters," stigmatised by Washington. These events, coupled with his want of scruples and known capacity for intrigue and indolence, made him an object of such distrust that the Senate, in spite of his social and political connections, barely confirmed him.

Could Tompkins, looking two years into the future, have foreseen Armstrong passing into disgraceful retirement after the capture of the city of Washington, he might easily have dismissed all rivalry from his mind; but just now the two men who seemed to stand most in his way were Armstrong and Spencer. He thought Spencer in too close and friendly alliance with Armstrong, and that Armstrong, whose strength in the State greatly depended upon Spencer's influence, was the only obstacle in his path to the White House. Thus there arose in his mind a sentiment of rivalry for Armstrong, and a strong feeling of distrust and dislike for Spencer. The latter, who now possessed little more real liking for Tompkins than Clinton did, soon understood the Governor's feeling toward him; and he also learned that Van Buren, with an intellect for organisation and control far superior to anything the Republicans of the State had heretofore known, had come into the political game to stay.

By phenomenal luck, DeWitt Clinton's good fortune still continued to attend him. In April, 1813, the Federalists had again carried the Assembly, and, although without senators in the middle and western districts to serve upon the Council of Appointment, Clinton found a friend in Henry A. Townsend, who answered the purpose of a Federalist. Townsend would support Jonas Platt for a judgeship if Clinton was retained as mayor.