The new Constitution changed the date of elections from April to November, and reduced the gubernatorial term from three years to two, thus ending Governor Clinton's administration on January 1, 1823. As the time approached for nominating his successor, it was obvious that the Bucktails, having reduced party discipline to a science and launched the Albany Regency upon its long career of party domination, were certain to control the election. Indeed, so strong had the party become that a nomination for senator or assemblyman was equivalent to an election, and the defeat of John W. Taylor of Saratoga for speaker of the Seventeenth Congress showed that its power extended to the capital of the nation. Taylor's ability and splendid leadership, in the historic contest of the Missouri Compromise, had made him speaker during the second session of the Sixteenth Congress; but Bucktail resentment of his friendly attitude toward Clinton, in 1820, changed a sufficient number of his New York colleagues to deprive him of re-election. It was not until the Nineteenth Congress, after the power of the Albany Regency had been temporarily broken by the election of John Quincy Adams to the Presidency, that Taylor finally received the reward to which he was so richly entitled.
At this moment of the Regency's domination, Joseph C. Yates showed himself the coming man. Though it was the desire of his party that he take the nomination for governor in 1820, the cautious, modest Justice of the Supreme Court had discreetly decided not to sacrifice himself in the year of DeWitt Clinton's greatest strength. Conscious of his own popularity with the people, he was prepared to wait. But he had not to wait long. During the last two years of Clinton's administration, Yates had distinguished himself in the Council of Revision, by voting for the bill creating a constitutional convention—a vote which was applauded by Van Buren, although overcome by Clinton; and when the time approached for the selection of another gubernatorial candidate, he rightly saw that his hour was come. Yates was not cut out for the part which a strange combination of circumstances was to allow him to play. He was a man of respectable character, but without remarkable capacity of any kind. He had a charming personality. He was modest and mild in his deportment, and richly gifted with discretion, caution, and prudence. Vindictiveness formed no part of his disposition. The peculiar character of his intellect made him a good Supreme Court judge; but he lacked the intellectual energy and courage for an executive, who must thoroughly understand the means of getting and retaining public support.
A majority of the leading politicians of the party, appreciating Yates' mental deficiencies, ranged themselves on the side of Samuel Young, who enjoyed playing a conspicuous part and liked attacking somebody. Young was not merely a debater of apparently inexhaustible resource, but a master in the use of parliamentary tactics and political craft. His speeches, or such reports of them as exist, are full of striking passages and impressive phrases; and, as an orator, full, round and joyous, with singularly graceful and charming manners, he was then without a rival in his party. But his ultra-radicalism and illiberal, often rude, treatment of opponents prevented him from obtaining all the influence which would otherwise have been fairly due to his talents and his political and personal integrity.
There were, also, other aspirants. Daniel D. Tompkins, preferring governor to Vice President, was willing to be called; and Peter B. Porter, Erastus Root, and Nathan Sanford, figured among those whose names were canvassed. The contest, however, soon settled down between Yates and Young, with the chances decidedly in favour of the former. People admired Young and were proud of him—they thoroughly liked Yates and trusted him. If Young had possessed the kindly, sympathetic disposition of Yates, with a tithe of his discretion, he would have rivalled Martin Van Buren in influence and popularity, and become a successful candidate for any office in the gift of the voters; but, with all his splendid genius for debate and eloquent speaking, he was neither a patient leader nor a popular one. When the Republican members of the Legislature got into caucus, therefore, Joseph C. Yates had a pronounced majority, as had Erastus Root for lieutenant-governor.
Young's defeat for the nomination left bitter enmity. A reconciliation did, indeed, take place between him and Yates, but it was as formal and superficial as that of the two demons described in Le Sage's story. "They brought us together," says Asmodeus; "they reconciled us. We shook hands and became mortal enemies." Young and Yates were reconciled; but from the moment of Yates' nomination, until, chagrined and disappointed, he was forced into retirement after two years of humiliating obedience to the Regency, Samuel Young spared no effort to render his late opponent unpopular.
Although Clinton's canal policy, upon the success of which he had staked his all, was signally vindicating itself in rapidity of construction, and the very moderate estimate of cost, his friends did not hesitate to advise him that his re-election to the governorship was impossible. It was a cold proposition for a man to face who had inaugurated a system of improvement which would confer prosperity and wealth upon the people, and enrich and elevate the State. For a time, like a caged tiger, he bit at the bars that seemed to limit his ambition. But his friends were right. Through his management, or want of management, the Clintonians had ceased to exist as an organisation, and his supporting Federalists, as evidenced by the election of delegates to the constitutional convention in 1821, had passed into a hopeless minority. "Governor Clinton, though governor," said Thurlow Weed, "was much in the condition of a pastor without a congregation." It was striking proof of the absence of tact and that address which, in a popular government, is necessary for one to possess who expects to succeed in public life. Clinton had now been governor for five consecutive years. His motives had undoubtedly been pure and patriotic, and he had within his control the means of a great office to influence people in his favour; yet a cold exterior, an arrogant manner, and a disposition to rule or ruin, had cooled his friends and driven away the people until opponents took little heed of his existence.
No doubt Clinton had good reason to know that the statesmen of that time were not exactly what they professed to be. He was well aware that many of them, like John Woodworth, Ambrose Spencer, and James Tallmadge, had played fast and loose as the chances of Bucktail and Clintonian had gone up or gone down; and, although he gracefully declined to become a candidate for re-election, when convinced of the utter hopelessness of such a race, his brain was no less active in the conception of plans which should again return him to power. As early as October, 1822, he wrote Post: "The odium attached to the name of Federalist has been a millstone round the neck of true policy. It is now almost universally dropped in this district, in the district of which Oneida County is part, and in the Herkimer County meeting. I hail this as an auspicious event. Names in politics as well as science are matters of substance, and a bad name in public is as injurious to success as a bad name in private life. The inferences I draw from the signs of the times are: First, the ascendancy of our party from the collisions of parties. In proportion as they quarrel with each other they will draw closer to us. The last hate being the most violent will supersede the former antipathy. Second, the old names as well as the old lines of party will be abolished. Third, nominations by caucuses will be exploded. Fourth, Yates, Van Buren, etc., will go down like the stick of a rocket. Our friends are up and doing in Ulster."
It is impossible not to feel admiration for the indomitable courage and the inexhaustible animal spirits which no defeat could reduce to prostration. Furthermore, Clinton had written with the inspiration of a prophet. Not only were the old names and the old party lines soon to vanish, but the last legislative caucus ever to be held in the State, would be called in less than two years. Within the same period Yates was to fall like the stick of a rocket, and Van Buren to suffer his first defeat.
In the absence of a Clintonian or Federalist opponent, Solomon Southwick announced himself as an independent candidate. His was a strange story. He had many of the noblest qualities and some of the wildest fancies, growing out of an extravagant imagination that seemed to control his mind. Among other things, he opened an office for the sale of lottery tickets, reserving numbers for himself which had been indicated in dreams or by fortune-tellers, with whom he was in frequent consultation. Writing of his disposition to hope for aid from the miraculous interposition of some invisible power, Hammond says: "He was in daily expectation that the next mail would bring him news that he had drawn the highest prize in the lottery; and I have known him to borrow money of a friend under a solemn pledge of his honour for its repayment in ten days, and have afterward ascertained that his sole expectation of redeeming his pledge depended on his drawing a prize when the next lottery in which he was interested should be drawn."[220]
Southwick was undoubtedly a man of genius, as his work on the Albany Register, the Ploughboy, and the Christian Visitant clearly indicates; but erroneous judgment and defective impulses resulted in misfortunes which finally darkened and closed his life in adversity if not in poverty. As a young man he had been repeatedly elected clerk of the Assembly, and had afterward served as sheriff, as state printer, and, finally, as postmaster. In the meantime, he became the first president of the Farmers' and Mechanics' Bank, making money easily and rapidly, living extravagantly, giving generously, and acquiring great political influence. But his trial for bribery, of which mention has been made, his removal as state printer, and his defalcation as postmaster, prostrated him financially and politically. In the hope of retrieving his fortunes he embarked in real estate speculation, thus completing his ruin and making him still more visionary and fantastic. Nevertheless, he struggled on with industry and courage for more than twenty years, occasionally coming into public or political notice as a writer of caustic letters, or as a candidate for office.