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

by De Alva Stanwood Alexander

Meantime, the Van Buren leaders proceeded with rare caution. There had been some alarming defections, notably the secession of the New York Courier and Enquirer, now edited by James Watson Webb, and the refusal of Erastus Root longer to follow the Jackson standard. Samuel Young had also been out of humour. Young declared for Clay in 1824, and had inclined to Adams in 1828. It was in his heart also to rally to the support of Clay in 1832. But, looking cautiously to the future, he could not see his way to renounce old associates altogether; and so, as evidence of his return, he published an able paper in defence of the President's veto. There is no indication, however, that Erastus Root was penitent. He had been playing a double game too long, and although his old associates treated him well, electing him speaker of the Assembly in 1827, 1828, and again in 1830, he could not overlook their failure to make him governor. Finally, after accepting a nomination to Congress, his speeches indicated that he was done forever with the party of Jackson.

The Republican convention, which met at Herkimer, in September, 1832, nominated William L. Marcy for governor. Marcy had reluctantly left the Supreme Court in 1831; and he did not now take kindly to giving up the United States Senate, since the veto message had made success in the State doubly doubtful. But no other candidate excited any interest. Enos T. Throop had been practically ridiculed into retirement. He was nicknamed "Small-light," and the longer he served the smaller and the more unpopular he became. If we may accept the judgment of contemporaries, he lacked all the engaging qualities that usually characterise a public official, and possessed all the faults which exaggerate limited ability.

Marcy had both tact and ability, but his opposition to the Chenango canal weakened him in that section of the State. The Chenango project had been a thorn in the Regency's side ever since Francis Granger, in 1827, forced a bill for its construction through the Assembly, changing Chenango from a reliable Jackson county to a Granger stronghold; but Van Buren now took up the matter, assuring the people that the next Legislature should pass a law for the construction of the canal, and to bind the contract Edward P. Livingston, with his family pride and lack of gifts, was unceremoniously set aside as lieutenant-governor for John Tracy of Chenango. This bargain, however, did not relieve Marcy's distress. He still had little confidence in his success. "I have looked critically over the State," he wrote Jesse Hoyt on the first day of October, "and have come to the conclusion that probably we shall be beaten. The United States Bank is in the field, and I can not but fear the effect of fifty or one hundred thousand dollars expended in conducting the election in such a city as New York."

This was a good enough excuse, perhaps, to give Hoyt. But Marcy's despair was due more to the merciless ridicule of Thurlow Weed's pen than to the bank's money. Marcy had thoughtlessly included, in one of his bills for court expenses, an item of fifty cents paid for mending his pantaloons; and the editor of the Evening Journal, in his inimitable way, made the "Marcy pantaloons" and the "Marcy patch" so ridiculous that the slightest reference to it in any company raised immoderate laughter at the expense of the candidate for governor. At Rochester, the Anti-Masons suspended at the top of a long pole a huge pair of black trousers, with a white patch on the seat, bearing the figure 50 in red paint. Reference to the unfortunate item often came upon him suddenly. "Now, ladies and gentlemen," shouted the driver of a stage-coach on which Marcy had taken passage, "hold on tight, for this hole is as large as the one in the Governor's breeches." All this was telling hard upon Marcy's spirits and the party's confidence. Jesse Hoyt wrote him that something must be done to silence the absurd cry; but the candidate was without remedy. "The law provided for the payment of the judge's expenses," he said, "and while on this business some work was done on pantaloons for which the tailor charged fifty cents. It was entered on the account, and went into the comptroller's hands without a particle of reflection as to how it would appear in print." There was no suggestion of dishonesty. Weed was too skilful to raise a point that might be open to discussion, but he kept the whole State in laughter at the candidate's expense. Marcy felt so keenly the ridiculous position in which his patched pantaloons put him that, although he usually relished jokes on himself, "the patch" was a distressing subject long after he had been thrice elected governor.

The Granger forces had, however, something more influential to overcome than a "Marcy patch." Very early in the campaign it dawned upon the bankers of the State that, if the United States Bank went out of business, government deposits would come to them; and from that moment every jobber, speculator and money borrower, as well as every bank officer and director, rejoiced in the veto. The prejudices of the people, always easily excited against moneyed corporations, had already turned against the "monster monopoly," with its exclusive privileges for "endangering the liberties of the country," and now the banks joined them in their crusade. In other words, the Jackson party was sustained by banks and the opponents of banks, by men of means and men without means, by the rich and the poor. It was a great combination, and it resulted in the overwhelming triumph of Marcy and the Jackson electoral ticket.[276]

The western anti-masonic counties gave their usual majorities for Francis Granger, but New York City and the districts bordering the Hudson, with several interior counties, wiped them out and left the Jackson candidate ten thousand ahead.[277]

This second defeat of Francis Granger had a depressing influence upon his party. It had been a contest of giants. Webster's great speeches in support of the United States Bank were accepted as triumphant answers to the arguments of the veto message, but nothing seemed capable of breaking the solid Jackson majorities in the eastern and southern counties; and, upon the assembling of the Legislature, in January, 1833, signs of disintegration were apparent among the Anti-Masons. Albert H. Tracy, despairing of success, began accepting interviews with Martin Van Buren, who sought to break anti-Masonry by conciliating its leaders. It was the voice of the tempter. Tracy listened and then became a missionary, inducing John Birdsall and other members of the Legislature to join him. Tracy had been an acknowledged leader. He was older, richer, and of larger experience than most of his associates, and, in appealing to him, Van Buren exhibited the rare tact that characterised his political methods. But the Senator from Buffalo could not do what Van Buren wanted him to do; he could not win Seward or capture the Evening Journal. "We had both been accustomed for years," says Thurlow Weed, "to allow Tracy to do our political thinking, rarely differing from him in opinion, and never doubting his fidelity. On this occasion, however, we could not see things from his standpoint, and, greatly to his annoyance, we determined to adhere to our principles."[278]

It must be admitted that many reasons existed well calculated to influence Tracy's action. William Wirt had carried only Vermont, and Henry Clay had received but forty-nine out of two hundred and sixty-five electoral votes. Anti-Masonry had plainly run its course. It aroused a strong public sentiment against secret societies, until most of the lodges in western New York had surrendered their charters; but it signally failed to perpetuate its hold upon the masses. The surrendered charters were soon reissued, and the institution itself became more popular and attractive than ever. These disheartening conditions were re-emphasised in the election of 1833. The county of Washington, before an anti-masonic stronghold, returned a Jackson assemblyman; and the sixth district, which had elected an anti-masonic senator in 1829, now gave a Van Buren member over seven thousand majority. But the most surprising change occurred in the eighth, or "infected district." Three years before it had given Granger thirteen thousand majority; now it returned Tracy to the Senate by less than two hundred. For a long time his election was in doubt. Of the one hundred and twenty-eight assemblymen, one hundred and four belonged to the Jackson party, and of the eight senators elected Tracy alone represented the opposition.

It was certainly not an encouraging outlook, and the leaders, after full consultation, virtually declared the anti-masonic party dissolved. But this did not, however, mean an abandonment of the field. It was impossible for men who believed in internal improvements, in the protection of American industries, and in the United States Bank, to surrender to a party controlled by the Albany Regency, which was rapidly drifting into hostility to these great principles and into the acceptance of dangerous state rights' doctrines. In giving up anti-Masonry, therefore, Weed, Seward, Granger, Whittlesey, Fillmore, John C. Spencer, and other leaders, simply intended to let go one name and reorganise under another. Several Anti-Masons, following the lead of Tracy, fell by the way, but practically all the people who made up the anti-masonic and National Republican forces continued to act together.