The change Republicans most clamoured for had not, however, come yet. DeWitt Clinton still held the mayoralty. Spencer urged his removal and controlled Stranahan; the Martling Men demanded it and controlled Dayton; but Elmendorff and Hubbard hesitated, and Tompkins disliked giving the casting vote. The Governor realised that no statesman had lived in his day in whom the people had shown greater confidence; and, in spite of the present clamour, he knew that the iron-willed Mayor still possessed the friendship of the best men and ripest scholars in the State. DeWitt Clinton was seen at his best, no doubt, by those who knew him in private life, among his books; and, though his strong opinions and earnest desire to maintain his side of the controversy, brought him into frequent antagonisms, his guests were encouraged to give free utterance to their own ideas and views.
These same qualities made him an active, restless leader of men in the world of politics. No doubt many hated him, for he made enemies more easily than friends; but neither enemy nor friend could deny the great natural capacity which had gradually gained a commanding place for him in public life. Tompkins must have felt that it was only a question of time when Clinton would again win the confidence of the people and make his enemies his footstool. What, therefore, to do with him was a serious question. Chained or unchained he was dangerous. The free masonry of intellect and education gave him rank; and if compelled to surrender the mayoralty he might, at any moment, take up some work which would bring him greater fame and influence. Nevertheless, Tompkins felt compelled to reach some decision. The Martling Men were insistent. They charged that Clinton, inspired by unpatriotic motives in the interest of Federalism, had opposed the war, and was an enemy of his party; and in demanding his removal they threatened those who caused delay. Van Buren could probably have relieved Tompkins by influencing Elmendorff, but Van Buren, like Tompkins, was too shrewd to rush into trouble.
It is doubtful if the possibility of a reconciliation between Spencer and Clinton occurred to Van Buren, and, if it did, it must have seemed too remote seriously to be considered; for just then Spencer was indefatigable in his exertions on the opposite side. Van Buren, moreover, understood politics too well to be blind to the danger of incurring the hostility of such a mind. A man who could bring to political work such resources of thought and of experience, who could look beneath the surface and see clearly in what direction and by what methods progress was to be made, was not one to be trifled with.
No doubt Ruggles Hubbard had a sincere attachment for Clinton. In supporting his presidential aspirations Hubbard visited Vermont, where he exercised his companionable gifts in an effort to obtain for Clinton the vote of that State. But Hubbard had neither firmness nor strength of intellect. Irregular in his habits, lax in his morals, a spendthrift and an insolvent, he could not resist the incessant attacks upon Clinton, nor the offer of the shrievalty of New York, with its large income and fat fees. When, therefore, Elmendorff finally evidenced a disposition to yield, Hubbard made the vote for Clinton's removal unanimous.
There have been seventy-nine mayors of New York since Thomas Willett, in 1665, first took charge of its affairs under the iron rule of Peter Stuyvesant, but only one in the long list, averaging a tenure of three years each, served longer than DeWitt Clinton. Richard Varick, the military secretary of Schuyler and Washington, and the distinguished associate of Samuel Jones in revising the laws of the State, held the mayoralty from 1789 to 1801, continuing through the controlling life of the Federalist party and the closing years of a century full of heroic incident in the history of the city. But DeWitt Clinton, holding office from 1803 to 1815—save the two years given Marinus Willett and Jacob Radcliff—saw the city's higher life keep pace with its growth and aided in the forces that widened its achievement and made it a financial centre. It must have cost this master-spirit of his age a deep sigh to give up a position in which his work had been so wise and helpful. His situation, indeed, seemed painfully gloomy; his office was gone, his salary was spent, and his estate was bankrupt. It is doubtful if a party leader ever came to a more distressing period in his career; yet he preserved his dignity and laughed at the storm that howled so fiercely about him. "Genuine greatness," he said, in a memorial address delivered about this time, "never appears in a more resplendent light, or in a more sublime attitude, than in that buoyancy of character which rises superior to danger and difficulty."
In the meantime, Governor Tompkins was riding on the crest of the political waves. On February 14, 1816, a legislative caucus unanimously instructed the members of Congress from New York to support him for President; a week later it nominated him for governor. Tompkins had no desire to make a fourth race for governor, but the unexpected nomination of Rufus King left him no alternative. William W. Van Ness had been determined upon as the Federalist candidate, until the fraudulent capture of the Council of Appointment by the Republicans made it inadvisable for the popular young Judge to leave the bench; and to save the party from disruption Rufus King consented to head the Federalist ticket. His great strength quickly put Republicans on the defensive; and the only man whom the party dared to oppose to him was the favourite champion of the war. Tompkins' re-election by over six thousand majority[183] once more attested his widespread popularity.
For the moment, every one seemed to be carried away by the fascination of the man. His friends asserted that he was always right and always successful; that patriotism had guided him through the long, discouraging war, and that, swayed neither by prejudice, nor by the impulses of personal ambition, in every step he took and every measure he recommended, he was actuated by the most unselfish purpose. Of course, this was the extravagance of enthusiastic admirers; but it was founded on twelve years of public life, marked by success and by few errors of judgment or temper. Even Federalists ceased to be his critics. It is not easy to parallel Governor Tompkins' standing at this time. If DeWitt Clinton's position seemed most wretched, Tompkins' lot appeared most happy. His life had been pure and noble; he was a sincere lover of his country; a brave and often a daring executive; a statesman of high purpose if not of the most commanding talents.
There was one man, however, with whom he must reckon. Ambrose Spencer not only loved power, but he loved to exercise it. He lacked the address of Tompkins, and, likewise, the vein of levity in the Governor's temperament that made him buoyant and hopeful even when most eager and earnest; but he was bold, enterprising, and of commanding intellect, with a determination to do with all his might the part he had to perform. His failure to become United States senator, and the appointment of Van Buren and Porter in place of Woodworth and Elisha Jenkins, rankled in his bosom. That was his first defeat. More than this, it proved that he could be defeated. Since DeWitt Clinton's defection in 1812, he had been the most powerful political factor in the State, a man whom the Governor had found it expedient to tolerate and to welcome.
The events of the past year had, however, convinced Spencer that nothing was to be gained by longer adherence to Tompkins, whom he had now come to regard with distrust and dislike. When, therefore, a candidate for President began to be talked about he promptly favoured William H. Crawford. The Georgia statesman, high tempered and overbearing, showed the faults of a strong nature, coupled with an ambition which made him too fond of intrigue; but Gallatin declared that he united to a powerful mind a most correct judgment and an inflexible integrity. In the United States Senate, with the courage and independence of Clay and the intelligence of Gallatin, he had been an earnest advocate of war and a formidable critic of its conduct. Compared to Monroe he was an intellectual giant, whose name was as familiar in New York as that of the President, and whose character was vastly more admired. In favouring such a candidate it may be easily understood how the influence of a man like Spencer affected other state leaders. Their dislike of the Virginian was as pronounced as in 1812, while their faith in the success of Tompkins, of whom Southern congressmen knew as little as they did of DeWitt Clinton four years before, was not calculated to inspire them with the zeal of missionaries. Spencer's bold declaration in favour of Crawford, therefore, hurt Tompkins more than his hesitation to support his brother-in-law in 1812 had damaged Clinton.
In the early autumn of 1814, the President had invited the Governor to become his secretary of state. Madison had been naturally drawn toward Tompkins, who had shown from his first entrance into public life a remarkable capacity for diplomatic management; and, although he had none of the higher faculties of statesmanship, the President probably saw that he would make just the kind of a minister to suit his purposes. Armstrong had not done this. Although a man of some ability and military information, Armstrong lacked conventional morals, and was the possessor of objectionable peculiarities. He never won either the confidence or the respect of Madison. He not only did harsh things in a harsh way, but he had a caustic tongue, and a tone of irreverence whenever he estimated the capacity of a Virginia statesman. On the other hand, Tompkins had gentleness, and that refined courtesy, amounting almost to tenderness, which seemed so necessary in successfully dealing with Madison.