FACTION AND CONSPIRACY
Down to the end of the eighteenth century, the people of New England
possessed a greater degree of social solidarity than any other section
of the Union. Descended from English stock, imbued with common religious
and political traditions, and bound together by the ties of a common
ecclesiastical polity, they cherished, as Jefferson expressed it, "a
sort of family pride" which existed nowhere else between people of
different States. In New England, there were elements of political and
religious dissent, to be sure, but the domination of the Congregational
clergy and the magistracy was hardly less complete in the year 1800 than
fifty years earlier. New England was governed by "the wise, the good,
and the rich." All the forces of education, property, religion, and
respectability were united in the maintenance of the established order
against the assaults of democracy. New England Federalism was not so
much a body of political doctrines as a state of mind. Abhorrence of the
forces liberated by the French Revolution was perhaps the dominating
emotion. Democracy seemed an aberration of the human mind, which was
bound everywhere to produce the same results in society. Jacobinism was
the inevitable outcome. "The principles of democracy are everywhere what
they have been in France," wrote Ames. "Democracy is a troubled spirit,
fated never to rest, and whose dreams, if it sleeps, present only
visions of hell."
In 1801, New England was in bitter, irreconcilable opposition to the
National Administration. The situation was fraught with grave
possibilities. Jefferson himself looked forward to "an uneasy
government," if the whole body of New England continued in opposition to
Republican principles. Ordinary political opposition was to be expected,
of course; but a sectional opposition, fortified by a social solidarity
like that of New England, was a menace to the Union. From the moment
when he took the oath of office, Jefferson directed his best energies to
the Republican conquest of New England. It was a policy dictated not
only by partisan considerations, but also by the highest instincts of
statesmanship. The fair-minded historian is bound to record that the
Jeffersonian party in this period of its history was, in spite of all
its inconsistencies, a potent agency in the maintenance of the Union.
The first conquest of the Republicans was that of Rhode Island in the
first year of the new Administration. The President was deeply gratified
by what he called "the regeneration of Rhode Island," interpreting the
event as "the beginning of that resurrection of the genuine spirit of
New England." Vermont, he prophesied, would next emerge from under the
yoke of the Federalist hierarchy; and the fall election verified his
prediction. Elsewhere the contest was more stubborn and prolonged, but
the Federalists noted with alarm that the Republican vote was
increasing everywhere. By the end of Jefferson's first term, the number
of Republican voters in New England very nearly equaled that of their
opponents.
The ranks of the Republican party were recruited largely from the rural
districts, where hostility to the mercantile and moneyed classes was
most bitter. It was the old alignment of the men of little or no
personal property against the prosperous and well-to-do classes. From
this point of view the Republican movement was an attack upon the
privileged orders, an attempt to break down the social hierarchy of New
England. Closely connected with the political movement was also the
struggle of the Baptists and the Methodists to secure religious freedom
in Massachusetts and Connecticut. The dissenters looked to Jefferson as
their natural leader; and the bitter opposition of the Congregational
clergy to the spread of democracy was due to their persistent, and no
doubt sincere, belief that dissent and democracy were manifestations of
the same radical and destructive spirit.
The rising tide of Republicanism and the increasing popularity of the
Administration cast the Federalist leaders into the deepest gloom. The
annexation of Louisiana was regarded as a mortal blow, since it
imperiled the ascendency of New England in the Union, and New England
was the stronghold of Federalism. At the beginning of the year 1804,
most of the Federalist members of Congress from New England were agreed
in thinking that a crisis was approaching. Democracy was about to
triumph over the forces of law and order. The only question was how to
save their section, where the ravages of Jacobinism could yet be stayed.
There was but one answer, from the point of view of Senator Timothy
Pickering. The people of the Eastern States could not reconcile their
habits, views, and interests with those of the South and West:
therefore, let them withdraw from the Union and form a Northern
Confederation. Plumer, of New Hampshire, and Tracy and Griswold, of
Connecticut, were in hearty agreement with this view. Pickering then put
his project before the members of the coterie of Federalists in
Massachusetts, which was generally known as the "Essex Junto." As the
confederacy shaped itself in Pickering's imagination, it would of
necessity include New York, which would act as a barrier to the
insidious inroads of Southern Jacobinism; but Massachusetts should
initiate the movement.
Replying for his intimates in the Essex Junto, George Cabot put aside
the project, not as in any wise morally reprehensible,--on the contrary,
he thought separation desirable,--but as impracticable. The people of
New England were not aware of their danger and therefore not prepared
for so radical a movement. The only chance for a successful revolution,
Cabot thought, would be "a war with Great Britain manifestly provoked by
our rulers." Pickering and Griswold then turned to New York for support
and to Aaron Burr.
The Vice-President was at this time without political influence in the
Administration, and without credit, either morally or politically. In
New York, the Livingstons and the Clintons, whom he had mortally
offended, were determined to drive him from the party. At first, Burr
was inclined to give way: he even applied to the President for an
executive appointment; but this resource failing, he determined to fight
his enemies to the bitter end. In February, 1804, he was nominated for
governor by a group of his friends in the legislature, in opposition to
the Clinton faction. It was well known that many Federalists would
support his candidacy. At this crucial moment, Pickering and Griswold
sought out Burr as an ally. As Governor of New York, they intimated, he
would be in a strategic position and could take the lead in the
secession of the Northern States. His leadership in the movement, in
short, was to be the price of Federalist support at the polls. But the
shifty Burr would not commit himself further than to promise an
administration satisfactory to the Federalists. The conspirators had to
rest content with this vague assurance and to count on Burr's ambition,
and his desire to be revenged upon his enemies, to bind him to their
cause.
Meantime, Alexander Hamilton was straining every nerve to prevent the
Federalists from indorsing the man who stood in the way of his own
ambition and whom he believed to be a dangerous and unprincipled
character. Some vestige of prudence kept the party from committing
itself openly to Burr, but its vote was cast for him. Burr carried his
old stronghold, New York City, but he was beaten elsewhere in the State.
The hopes of the Federalists were shattered; the conspirators were
confounded; and the bubble of a Northern Confederacy vanished.
The immediate consequences of this political episode were personal.
Hamilton had again thwarted the ambitions and incurred the deadly enmity
of an embittered political desperado. A challenge followed and was
accepted. On a summer morning, July 11, 1804, at Weehawken across the
Hudson, the rivals faced each other for the last time. Hamilton threw
away his fire: Burr aimed with murderous intent, and Hamilton fell
mortally wounded. From this moment Burr was a marked man and an outcast
from respectable society in the East. The newer society of the West,
less sensitive in such matters, thought none the less of a man who had
shot his foe in a fair fight. Thither Burr betook himself when his term
of office expired.
As the presidential election approached, the Republicans determined to
prevent any recurrence of the accident which had so nearly seated Burr
in the President's chair. This resolve took the form of a constitutional
amendment which provided that presidential electors should designate on
distinct ballots the persons voted for as President and Vice-President.
To change the Constitution in this wise was a delicate matter. No part
of the work of the Federal Convention had been more difficult than to
reconcile the small-State party to the mode provided for the election of
a President. The final settlement had been accepted only in the
expectation that in most cases the electoral college would fail to
elect, and that a choice would then be made by the House of
Representatives, where the small States would have an equal voice with
the large States. To remove the chances of an election by the House was
to upset the original compromise and to increase the importance of the
large States in the initial election.
Another consequence would follow the proposed change. The office of
Vice-President would be degraded. Roger Griswold clearly foresaw this
eventuality. "The office will generally be carried into the market,"
said he, "to be exchanged for the votes of some large States for
President; and the only criterion which will be regarded as a
qualification for the office of Vice-President will be the temporary
influence of the candidate over the electors of his State."
Notwithstanding these and many less obvious objections, the amendment
was adopted by a party vote in Congress and promptly ratified by
thirteen out of the sixteen States before the fall elections.
The campaign of 1804 was uneventful. The congressional caucus of the
Republican party dropped Burr as a candidate and nominated George
Clinton, of New York. Jefferson was the unanimous choice of his party.
The depressed Federalists supported Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, of
South Carolina, and Rufus King, of New York, as their candidates.
Jefferson was triumphantly reelected with the loss of only two States,
Connecticut and Delaware, and of two electoral votes in Maryland. Well
might he exult at the discomfiture of his enemies. "The two parties," he
wrote to Volney, "are almost melted into one."
[Map: The Yazoo-Georgia Land Controversy]
Below the calm surface of Republican politics, however, dangerous
counter-currents swirled. For a time the controversy over the Yazoo land
claims seemed likely to be a reef on which Republican unity would be
shattered. Both the United States and Georgia laid claim to the great
Western tract which is now occupied by the States of Mississippi and
Alabama. But Georgia with a stronger _prima facie_ case evinced little
regard for the claims of the Federal Government. In 1795, while a mania
for land speculation was sweeping over the country, the legislature
yielded to corrupt influences and sold some thirty-five million acres in
the disputed territory for the sum of $500,000 to four land companies.
In the following year, the people of Georgia rose in their wrath, turned
out the corrupt legislators, and forced the passage of a rescinding act.
Meantime, sales had been made by the Yazoo speculators to guileless
purchasers, who now appealed to Congress for relief. In 1798, Congress
enacted a law providing for commissioners who should confer with Georgia
regarding these conflicting claims. At the same time the Territory of
Mississippi was organized.
Such was the status of the Yazoo land claims when Jefferson became
President. It fell to him to appoint the federal commissioners. They
wrestled manfully with the perplexing details of the controversy, and in
1802 reported what they believed to be a fair settlement of the claims
of all parties. Georgia was to cede her Western lands to the United
States in return for a payment of $1,250,000 and an agreement on the
part of the Federal Government to extinguish all Indian titles within
her limits as soon as might be. In the course of time this Western
territory was to be admitted as a State. Five million acres were to be
set aside to satisfy the claims of those who had suffered loss by the
rescinding act of Georgia.
The morbid imagination of John Randolph could see nothing but jobbery in
this proposal to satisfy claims which had been fraudulently obtained
from the Legislature of Georgia. There can be little doubt that
Randolph's hatred for Madison, who was a member of the federal
commission, influenced his subsequent action. On two occasions, in 1804
and again in 1805, he assailed the proposed compromise, and twice he
secured a postponement, though he could not defeat the bill which
embodied the conclusions of the commission. From this time on Randolph
was never more than an uncertain ally of the Administration. The few
politicians who still followed his lead were styled rather
contemptuously "Quids." Even Republicans with slender classical training
grasped the significance of a _tertium quid_. Yet Randolph was still a
power in the House.
The Yazoo affair dragged on for years. In 1810, a decision of the
Supreme Court gave aid and comfort to the opposition. In the case of
_Fletcher_ v. _Peck_, the court held that the original Act of 1795,
conveying the Yazoo grants, was a contract within the meaning of the
Constitution which might not be impaired by subsequent legislation. It
was not until 1814 that Congress voted $8,000,000 to the claimants under
this act and so settled one of the most obstinate controversies in the
history of Congress.
In the fall of 1805, Jefferson seemed about to realize what had been the
object of his diplomatic endeavors ever since the acquisition of
Louisiana. Intimations came from Talleyrand that the Floridas might be
obtained by purchase if the United States would prevail upon Spain to
refer the whole dispute to Napoleon. On December 3, 1805, he sent a
message to Congress which seemed to break completely with all
Jeffersonian precedents. It recounted the failure of negotiations with
Spain, and spoke sternly of the depredations committed in the new
Territories by Spanish officers and soldiers. The Administration had
found it necessary to order the troops on the frontier to be in
readiness to repel future aggressions. Some of the injuries committed
admitted of a peaceable remedy. Some of them were "of a nature to be met
by force only, and all of them may lead to it." Coupled with these
admonitions were suggestions for the fortification of seaports, the
building of war-vessels, and the organization of the militia.
Coming from the pen of one who had written that peace was his passion
and who had hitherto avoided war with Quaker-like submission, this
message caused bewilderment on all sides. The West, however, took the
President literally and looked forward with enthusiasm to a war which
was bound to end in the overthrow of Spanish dominion in the Southwest.
Three days later a secret message was delivered to the House of
Representatives announcing that Spain was disposed to effect a
settlement "so comprehensive as to remove as far as possible the grounds
of future collision and controversy on the eastern as well as the
western side of the Mississippi." Only a show of force was needed "to
advance the object of peace."
Randolph for one was thoroughly disgusted by "this double set of
opinions and principles"; and his ill-temper gave vent to biting
invective when he learned, that as chairman of the Committee of Ways and
Means he was expected to propose an appropriation of $2,000,000 for the
purchase of Florida. He refused flatly to assume the responsibility "of
delivering the public purse to the first cut-throat that demanded it,"
for Madison had said in private conversation that the money was destined
for Napoleon. The opposition of Randolph caused weeks of delay. It was
not until March 13 that Madison could authorize Armstrong, minister to
France, to offer $5,000,000 for Florida and Texas. It was then too
late. Either Armstrong had been misled or Napoleon had changed his mind:
in either case, the favorable moment had passed. The purchase of Florida
was indefinitely deferred.
During these months, when relations with Spain were strained to the
breaking point, Aaron Burr was weaving the strands of one of the most
intricate and baffling intrigues in American history. Shortly after
relinquishing the office of Vice-President, Burr undertook an extensive
tour through the West. In the course of his voyage down the Ohio he
landed on Blennerhassett's Island, which an eccentric Irish gentleman of
that name had transformed into an estate. At Cincinnati he was the guest
of Senator John Smith; and there he met also Jonathan Dayton, who had
just finished his term as Senator from New Jersey. Both of these
individuals played an uncertain part in Burr's plans. At Nashville he
visited General Andrew Jackson; at Fort Massac he spent four days in
close conference with General James Wilkinson, who was in command of the
Western army--one of the most precious rascals in the annals of the
country; and at New Orleans he put himself in touch with the Mexican
Association, which had been formed by ardent individuals who looked
forward to war with Spain and the liberation of Mexico.
To men like Andrew Jackson and Daniel Clark, of New Orleans, whose
loyalty is beyond question, Burr announced his purpose to devote his
life to the overthrow of the Spanish power in America. It was a mission
which commended itself to the Spanish-hating people of the Mississippi
Valley. Western newspapers announced that he meditated some
extraordinary enterprise; and one editor hinted that he was plotting a
revolution which would end in the formation of a separate government for
the region bordering on the Ohio and the Mississippi.
Returning to the East, Burr left no stone unturned in his efforts to
find funds to finance this mysterious enterprise. He was in conference
with Merry, the British minister, and with Yrujo, the Spanish minister;
and each received a different impression as to the scope of his plans.
At one time Burr talked madly of seizing the government at Washington.
The kaleidoscopic changes of his plans baffle consistent explanation.
One thing only is clear: he needed funds. These he obtained in part from
his son-in-law, Joseph Alston, a wealthy planter in South Carolina, and
in part from the credulous Blennerhassett, who was persuaded to purchase
a million acres on the Washita River in northern Louisiana. Thither the
expedition which started out from Blennerhassett's Island was ostensibly
directed. How far Burr's plans went beyond the occupation of this tract
is a matter of conjecture. One of Blennerhassett's servants may
inadvertently have told the truth when he said that they were "going to
take Mexico, one of the finest and richest places in the whole world."
If Burr seriously contemplated a filibustering expedition against
Mexico, he was favored by circumstances. Spanish troops had taken up a
position east of the Sabine River, on what was American soil; and only
an overt act was needed to precipitate war. Every frontiersman was
preparing for a tussle with the hated Spaniard. In the event of war Burr
knew well enough that an expedition against Mexico would be countenanced
by the government at Washington. Whether or no war with Spain would
occur depended upon the cooperation of General Wilkinson, for he had
been charged by the Secretary of War to take command of the troops at
New Orleans with as little delay as possible and "to repel any invasion
of the territory of the United States east of the river Sabine, or north
and west of the bounds of what has been called West Florida."
The delay of Wilkinson in following these orders of May 6, 1806, has
been explained on the supposition that he was awaiting the development
of Burr's plans. Be that as it may, his hesitation was fatal to the
conspirators. On September 27, the Spanish troops retired beyond the
Sabine, thus removing an excellent pretext for war. From this time on
Wilkinson's hand is against Burr. His conduct is enveloped in an
atmosphere of intrigue. At one moment he is sending alarmist dispatches
to the President, warning him against a mysterious expedition which was
being prepared--by what authority he professed not to know--against the
Spanish province of Mexico; at the next moment he is intriguing with the
Spanish authorities, warning them against Burr and assuring them of his
protection. This valuable information Wilkinson thought was worth about
$111,000; but his aid-de-camp seems to have returned empty-handed from
the City of Mexico. His further exploits in New Orleans, which he kept
in a state of perpetual alarm and finally put under martial law, read
like a chapter from a melodrama.
It was not until October, 1806, that President Jefferson expressed any
serious concern about Burr's intrigues. Even then he concluded to send
only a confidential agent to watch the conspirator and to arrest him if
necessary. In November, dispatches from Wilkinson convinced the
President of the need of more summary action. On November 27, he issued
a proclamation, stating that sundry persons were confederating and
conspiring together to begin a military expedition or enterprise against
the dominions of Spain. Honest and well-meaning citizens were being
seduced under various pretenses to engage in the criminal enterprises of
these men. All faithful citizens and the civil and military authorities
were therefore enjoined to be vigilant in preventing the expedition and
in bringing the conspirators to punishment.
The President's proclamation wrought a transformation in the temper of
the West. People reasoned that the danger must be greater than any one
had suspected. The newspapers began to print wild stories. The
Legislature of Ohio authorized the governor to take proper measures to
prevent acts hostile to the United States. The governor promptly seized
the bateaux which were being constructed at Marietta and called out the
militia to overpower Blennerhassett and his followers. On the Virginia
side of the river, the militia were in readiness for a descent upon the
island. On the night of December 10, Blennerhassett and a handful of men
left the island in such boats as they could find. Wild rumors followed
the expedition as it floated peacefully down the Ohio. The _Western Spy_
told its readers that Blennerhassett had passed Cincinnati in keel boats
loaded with military stores; that more were to follow; and that twenty
thousand men had been enlisted in an expedition against Mexico.
Meantime, Burr had met with embarrassing delays. The promised recruits
had not come in, since war had not been declared. Only two of the five
boats which Jackson had agreed to build were ready. Nevertheless, Burr
left Nashville on December 23, as he had planned, and on the next day
joined Blennerhassett at the mouth of the Cumberland. The combined
strength of this flotilla which was causing such public consternation
was nine bateaux, carrying less than sixty men.
The voyage of the expedition down the Ohio and the Mississippi was
without incident until January 10, when the expedition put into Bayou
Pierre, in the Mississippi Territory. There Burr was put under arrest
and brought before a grand jury. Luck again favored him. As in Kentucky,
so here the jurors failed to find any ground for indictment.
Nevertheless, the judge bound Burr over to appear from day to day.
Holding this proceeding unauthorized by law, Burr forfeited his bond and
made his escape; but near Fort Stoddert, he was again apprehended. On
March 5, 1807, he was sent with a guard of six men from Fort Stoddert to
Richmond, Virginia.
The commitment, indictment, and trial of Aaron Burr form a fittingly
inconclusive sequel to a strange tale of intrigue and misadventure. Not
merely the fate of the accused man, but the personalities involved, gave
a spectacular character to the legal proceedings at Richmond. Arrayed as
counsel on the side of Burr were three notable attorneys from Virginia,
and Luther Martin of Maryland. The foreman of the grand jury was John
Randolph. The chief witness for the prosecution was General Wilkinson.
The presiding judge was Chief Justice John Marshall, within whose
circuit Blennerhassett's Island lay. And behind the prosecution,
straining every nerve to secure the conviction of the conspirators, was
President Thomas Jefferson.
From first to last the Chief Justice made the task of the prosecution
exceedingly difficult by a rigorous definition of treason. Treason
involved an overt act, he insisted; the actual levying of war by an
assembling of armed men. To convict of treason, the testimony of two
witnesses was required by the Constitution. Now, Burr was hundreds of
miles away from Blennerhassett's Island when the alleged overt act of
treason was committed. The court would not admit any testimony relative
to the conduct and declarations of Burr elsewhere and subsequent to the
transactions on Blennerhassett's Island. Such testimony was in its
nature merely corroborative, the Chief Justice ruled, and inadequate to
prove the overt act in itself, and therefore irrelevant until the overt
act was proved by the testimony of two witnesses. On September 1, the
prosecution abandoned the case, and the jury returned a verdict of not
guilty. The Government now sought to secure the conviction of Burr on
the charge of misdemeanor; but less than a week was needed to reveal the
weakness of the testimony put forward by the prosecution. On September
15, Burr was again acquitted.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
The New England conspiracy, the Yazoo controversy, and the
intrigues of Burr, are admirably recounted by Henry Adams. His
account may be corrected at various points, however, by consulting
W. F. McCaleb, _The Aaron Burr Conspiracy_ (1903). A brief account
of the intrigues and plots of this time may be found in Channing,
_The Jeffersonian System, 1801-1811_ (1906). The intrigues of the
Federalists in New England have been described recently with new
information by S. E. Morison, _Life and Letters of Harrison Gray
Otis_ (2 vols., 1913). Other biographies of importance are H. C.
Lodge, _Life and Letters of George Cabot_ (1877); James Parton,
_Life and Times of Aaron Burr_ (1858); J. S. Bassett, _Life of
Andrew Jackson_ (2 vols., 1911). The trial of Burr is described in
popular fashion by F. T. Hill, _Decisive Battles of the Law_
(1907). The origin and subsequent history of the Yazoo affair may
be traced in C. H. Haskins, "The Yazoo Land Companies" (in the
_American Historical Association Papers_, 1891).