ADAMS PULLS DOWN THE PILLARS
I
Meanwhile, the Federalist leaders, having, as they thought, cowed and
crushed the Democrats, were engaged in an internecine strife for
control. There was to be war--at all hazards a war. It was to be a
Federalist war, with Jeffersonians rigidly excluded from all places of
command. But more than that, it had to be a war personally conducted by
Alexander Hamilton--with no unseemly interference from John Adams. This
was the grim determination of the radical Federalists everywhere, even
the Essex Junto, in the President’s own State, sharing it with the three
leading members of the Adams Cabinet. Thus, when Adams one day casually
asked Pickering who should be made Commander-in-Chief of the army, and
the spectacled Puritan unhesitatingly answered, ‘Colonel Hamilton,’
there was an ominous silence. When, on another occasion, the same
question elicited the identical answer, with a similar silence, even
Pickering must have sensed the situation. But when, after a third
question had brought the same answer, and Adams, a little annoyed, had
rejected the suggestion with the sharp observation, ‘It is not his turn
by a great deal,’ Pickering might have dropped his plans without
disgrace.[1588] But nothing was more remote from his intentions. It was
at this time that the conspirators, including the three members of the
Cabinet, put their heads together to devise ways and means of forcing
the appointment of their idol. The chief command would naturally be
offered to Washington, who would accept the position in an honorary
sense, but old age and infirmities would make his activities and
authority but perfunctory. The important thing was to secure the second
position for Hamilton--and even there was a rub. Adams was prejudiced.
Then, one day, Adams ordered McHenry to Mount Vernon to proffer the
chief command to Washington, with a request for advice in the formation
of the officers’ list. The names of several eligibles for the leading
posts, enumerated by Adams, might be mentioned. Hamilton was among them,
but he was fourth on the list. That day McHenry hastened to Pickering,
and the conspiracy against the President in his own household began to
unfold. It was agreed that Pickering should send a personal letter on
ahead urging Hamilton for second place, McHenry should reënforce
Pickering’s plea in person, Hamilton should be instantly notified and a
letter from him should be delivered to Washington along with the
commission from Adams. Thus, when the smug-faced little War Secretary,
more familiar with the pen of the rhymester than with the sword of the
soldier, bade his chief adieu and set out upon his mission, he was the
messenger of his chief’s dearest enemy, prepared to exhaust his
ingenuity in thwarting the plans of the man of whom he was a subordinate
and on whose mission he went forth.
As early as June, Washington had planned to make Hamilton
Inspector-General, but without placing him ahead of Pinckney or Knox,
both of whom outranked him in the old army.[1589] Just what treachery
McHenry practiced as he sat on the veranda at Mount Vernon those July
days will never be positively known. That he pleaded the cause of
Hamilton against the wishes of his chief there can be no doubt. That it
was he who suggested that Washington should make his own acceptance
conditional on having absolute power in the selection of his
subordinates is more than probable. At any rate, when he returned to
Philadelphia he carried in Washington’s handwriting the names of the
three Major-Generals--Hamilton, Pinckney, and Knox, in the order given.
In this order Adams, who assumed that their relative positions would be
determined by himself, sent them to the Senate and they were confirmed.
Soon the Federalist camp was in fermentation as to whether Knox, favored
by the President, or Hamilton, preferred by the party bosses, should be
second in command. Pinckney, who accepted slights with the same contrite
spirit with which his brother had stepped aside for Jay in London,
agreed to serve under the Federalist leader, but Knox, not so humble,
refused, and the crisis came. Personally fond of Knox, the quarrel was
embarrassing to Washington, but it had never been the habit of the
Hamiltonians to spare him where their wishes were involved. Soon
Hamilton was bombarding Mount Vernon with letters strikingly lacking in
the spirit of humility. His claims were superior to those of Knox or
Pinckney, and the Federalists preferred him to the former.[1590] ‘If I
am to be degraded beneath my just claims in public opinion, ought I
acquiesce?’ he wrote the sympathetic Pickering.[1591] To McHenry he
wrote that he would not surrender the first place to which he ‘had been
called by the voice of the country’;[1592] to Washington that the
Federalists of New England favored him over Knox.[1593]
All the while the three leading members of the Cabinet were concocting
plans for the humiliation of Adams, taking their orders from Hamilton,
who, from his law office in New York, was directing the fight of the
President’s trusted advisers against their chief. One day the angels
looked down and smiled through tears on the spectacle of McHenry writing
a letter to Knox fixing his status, from a model in the handwriting of
Alexander Hamilton.[1594] As Adams stubbornly held his ground, one by
one all the Hamiltonians of consequence were drawn into the conspiracy
against him.
One evening the secretarial conspirators sat about a table phrasing a
persuasive note to Adams which Wolcott, the most consummate deceiver of
the three, should sign and send as his personal view. ‘Public opinion’
favored Hamilton, Washington preferred him, and ‘Knox [has] no popular
character even in Massachusetts.’[1595] Having dispatched this cunning
letter, Wolcott immediately wrote his real chief in New York that
‘measures have been taken to bring all right,’ and requesting Hamilton
neither to do nor to say anything ‘until you hear from me.’[1596]
Another little caucus of conspirators in Boston: present, Cabot, Ames,
and Higginson; purpose, the framing of a letter to Adams that Cabot
should sign, assuring the President of a ‘remarkable uniformity of
sentiment’ in New England for Hamilton over Knox.[1597] Having sent this
letter, Cabot wrote confidentially to Pickering suggesting that General
Wadsworth, who was ‘accustomed to tell [Knox] his faults,’ should be
enlisted in the cause.[1598] Meanwhile Pickering, more sinister, if less
deceptive than the others, was seeking to intimidate his chief by having
Hamiltonian Senators declare that the officers had been confirmed with
the understanding that Hamilton stood at the head.[1599]
All this time, Iago-like letters were going forth from members of the
Cabinet to Washington conveying the impression that Adams was
contemptuously indifferent to the great man’s wishes. The effect was all
that could have been desired. In a surprisingly offensive note,
Washington wrote peremptorily to the President demanding to know ‘at
once and precisely’ what was to be expected.[1600] Such a letter from a
less popular idol would have elicited an answer sharp and decisive; but,
taking discretion for the wiser course, Adams swallowed his pride and
wrote a conciliatory note, not neglecting, however, to remind the man
who had presided over the Constitutional Convention that under the
Constitution the President, and no one else, ‘has the authority to
determine the rank of the officers.’[1601] Thus the issue was closed,
with Hamilton triumphant, but with Adams awaiting only an opportunity
for revenge. The tiny cloud that had appeared in the beginning of the
Administration was now dark and large and threatening.
II
Having won with Hamilton, the Federalist leaders now turned to another
part of their programme--the rigid exclusion of Jeffersonians from
commissions in the army. This was to be a Federalist war, nothing less.
Even Washington, who had, by this time, become a partisan Federalist,
was in sympathy with the view that the friends of Jefferson, Madison,
Hancock, and Sam Adams should be proscribed. This appears in his
consultations with John Marshall as to the personnel of the army,[1602]
and in a letter to McHenry referring to the ‘erroneous political
opinions’ of an applicant.[1603] This enlistment of Washington in the
proscriptive policies of the Federalists is directly traceable to the
Iagos who were writing him all the while. Hamilton was solemnly assuring
him that the Democrats were ‘determined to go every length with France’
and to ‘form with her a perpetual offensive and defensive alliance and
to give her a monopoly of our trade.’[1604]
Thus one day Adams sat in conference with Washington on the organization
of the army. Knowing Aaron Burr as a brave and able officer anxious to
fight, he wished to recognize the Democrats by giving him a commission.
Washington, much under the influence of Hamilton, conceded Burr’s
capacity, but opposed his appointment because he was a master of
intrigue. Through the mind of Adams, hampered in his plans at every
turn, flashed the vivid memory of how his predecessor had forced him to
humiliate his own friends in the appointment of Hamilton--‘the most
restless, impatient, artful, indefatigable, and unprincipled intriguer
in the United States.’ But--as he afterward wrote--he was ‘not permitted
to nominate Burr.’[1605] Here again the traitors in the Cabinet had
played their part.[1606]
But the war was not to be national, but Federalist. ‘Every one of them
[Democrats] ought to be rejected, and only men of fair property employed
in the higher and more confidential grades,’ wrote a Federalist
Representative to Wolcott.[1607] When Adams’s son-in-law applied for a
commission his application was held until he sent a certificate that he
had not interfered in a gubernatorial election in New York.[1608] So
zealously did the minor politicians enter into this policy of
proscription that some of the wiser leaders began to take alarm. Even a
friend of McHenry at Baltimore was moved to protest. ‘They seemed to
imagine that nothing was left to be done but to exterminate every one
who had been on the Democratic side’ he complained.[1609] Even Hamilton
finally thought fit to call for a moderation of the programme. ‘It does
not seem advisable,’ he wrote McHenry, ‘to exclude all hope and to give
to appointments too absolute a party feature.’[1610] But there was no
relenting in party circles, and no one had done more to arouse this
fanatical spirit than Hamilton himself.
The climax of stupidity was reached in the case of Frederick A.
Muhlenberg, former Speaker of the House, a leader and oracle among the
Germans of Pennsylvania, but no blind follower of Federalism. In a
spirit of pure patriotism he had personally offered the service of his
sword to Adams, whose wish to accept it was again thwarted by
Washington, acting under the inspiration of the Federalist leaders.
Whereupon Muhlenberg marched with the Germans as a body into the
Jeffersonian camp and enlisted for another war.[1611]
Under this proscriptive program the Jeffersonians remained mute but for
a few sarcastic comments in their press. ‘General Washington must have
some very keen reflection,’ said the ‘Independent Chronicle,’ ‘in taking
command of the army of the present day, in seeing so many new friends
who were his old enemies during the Revolution.’[1612] When it was
reported that Robert Goodhue Harper had been made Commissioner-General,
it chortled, ‘What lawyer would not plead for such a fee?’[1613] And it
had reflected on Adams’s ‘pretence’ for piety in connection with his
appointment of Hamilton, ‘who published a book to prove that he was an
adulterer.’[1614]
Bitter as were the reflections of Adams on reading such observations, it
could have mattered little to Hamilton. Everything he had started out to
get he got. He wanted a war with France--and got it. He wanted the
command directly under Washington as he had wanted nothing else in his
life--and got it, by striding to his sword over the humiliated pride of
the President. He wanted an army of fifty thousand men, and, if he fell
short in this, he nevertheless had an army. He was on the crest of the
wave, the most powerful man in America, and he was happy.
III
Feeling that supreme fortune was within his grasp, Hamilton threw all
his enthusiasm and vitality into the task of perfecting the army and
organizing the Nation for war. ‘The law has abandoned him, or rather he
has forsaken it,’ wrote a friend to King.[1615] Preparing the plan for
the fortification of New York Harbor, he personally superintended its
execution. He had worked out to the minutest detail the organization of
the army and all he lacked was men and a declaration of war. But alas,
he was confronted on every hand by disheartening difficulties. The
recruiting fell pathetically short of anticipations, the War Department
under the Secretary of his own choosing was pitifully inefficient, and,
while the army was woefully below the provisions of Congress, even the
fragment was not adequately clothed or provisioned, and there was a
deficiency of tents. In a rage, Hamilton wrote angrily to McHenry: ‘Why,
dear friend, why do you suffer the business of providing to go on as it
does? Every moment proves the insufficiency of the existing plan and the
necessity of auxiliaries. I have no doubt that at Baltimore, New York,
Providence, and Boston additional supplies of clothing may promptly be
procured and prepared by your agents, and it ought to be done, though it
may enhance the expense. ‘Tis terrible ... that there should be wants
everywhere. So of tents. Calls for them are repeated from Massachusetts
where better and cheaper than anywhere else they can certainly be
provided.’[1616]
The truth is that the hysteria for getting at the throat of the French
democracy was over almost as soon as it began, and the masses commenced
to reflect on the cost, as the war measures grew apace. Jefferson,
noting the increasing boldness of opposition in Pennsylvania, where
petitions were signed by four thousand people protesting against the
Alien and Sedition Laws, standing armies, and extraordinary war powers
for the President, and observing similar unrest in New Jersey and New
York, and ‘even in New Hampshire,’ was fearful of insurrection. ‘Nothing
could be so fatal,’ he wrote. ‘Anything like force would check the
progress of public opinion.’[1617]
When Wolcott tried to float a loan, he found the moneyed men cold to the
regular legal rate of interest, for their patriotic passion had suffered
a chill when it came to cash. After all, business was business, and why
should the Federalist men of money fail to get in on the profits? It was
not hard to persuade Wolcott, who had a sentimental weakness for the
financiers, and he could see nothing unreasonable in a demand for eight
per cent. The rates for stocks were good, commercial prospects were
alluring, and after all, eight per cent would be but ‘moderate terms.’
Adams, sore from the unmerciful pummeling from his party, was outraged
at such a rate,[1618] but Wolcott persisted--it was the only way. War
was war as business was business. Finally, in sheer disgust, Adams
capitulated to necessity with the exclamation: ‘This damned army will be
the ruin of this country; if it must be so, it must; I cannot help it.
Issue your proposals as you please.’[1619] When Hamilton had urged that
all the resources of revenue be seized upon, Adams thought him mad, but
it soon became evident that something of the sort would be
necessary.[1620]
Aha, said the ‘Independent Chronicle,’ ‘“millions for defence but not
one cent for tribute.” This has been the language of those who are in
favor of war. The patriotism of such persons is every day becoming more
and more evident. A loan of five million has been attempted, but instead
of the old legal rate of six per cent these modern patriots have
required the moderate premium of Eight. At this rate we shall soon
verify the first part of the motto, viz., “millions for defence,” but
whether the latter is not violated by the extra interest is left to the
decision of those who are to bear the burdens.’[1621] And they who were
to pay the piper gave an acquiescent nod.
The taxes which the war party had levied with such patriotic abandon
aroused bitter resentment. Among the Germans of Pennsylvania, the taxes
on houses, lands, and windows were considered the beginning of a system
which would extend to everything. The immediate outcome was an
insurrection led by John Fries, an ignorant son of a German farmer, and
the marching of the troops and the easy dissipation of the incipient
rebellion against the assessors.[1622]
About that time Hamilton arrived in Philadelphia. ‘For what purpose?’
inquired ‘The Aurora.’ ‘Can it be to foment another insurrection and
thereby to increase the energies of the Government? What distinguished
citizen is there in the counties of Northampton and Bucks that he wishes
to glut his vengeance upon? Does he wish that Easton may be burned to
afford him a pretext for military execution?’[1623] If there were no
executions, the people had a touch of military rule. A troop of horse
from Lancaster committed outrages on citizens at Reading, and Jacob
Schneider, a local editor, commented with severity upon their actions.
On their return through Reading these troops went to the editor’s
office, tore his clothing from his back, dragged him to the Market
House, and were preparing to give him twenty-five lashes when troops
from Philadelphia interfered.[1624] The brutality of the soldiers
shocked the country. The prisoners taken on the expedition were treated
with the same unnecessary cruelty which marked the treatment of the
rebels in the Whiskey Insurrection. Ignorant or besotted with partisan
passion, under a lax discipline, and contemptuous of the civil
government, many soldiers strutting about in uniforms, insulting and
attacking citizens, convinced the majority of the people that the
Jeffersonians were right in their observations upon the evils of
standing armies.
No one had denounced these excesses with greater vehemence than William
Duane, editor of ‘The Aurora.’ One day some petty officers in uniforms,
swords and pistols on their persons, said by Duane to have numbered
thirty and by his enemies to have been fifteen, entered his office. With
drawn pistols the compositors and pressmen were driven into a corner and
kept at bay by a part of the assailants. Some grasped and held Duane’s
hands while others beat him over the head with the butt end of a pistol.
Then with ten gallant soldiers participating in the assault on the one
man, he was brutally dragged downstairs into Franklin Court, where the
assault was repeated. He was knocked down and kicked. The editor’s
request to be permitted to fight any one of them was ignored, and had
not his sixteen-year-old son thrown himself across his father’s body,
and a number of Democrats arrived to give battle, he would have been
murdered in cold blood. That night armed Democrats went to the ‘Aurora’
office prepared to give shot for shot if an attempt should be made to
destroy the plant.[1625] ‘Porcupine’ chortled, and young Fenno declared
that ‘the punishment of this caitiff is of no more consequence than
that of any other vagabond.’ Besides, did not every one know that ‘the
infernal Aurora and the United Irishman who conducts it’ were ‘expressly
chargeable with the Northampton Insurrection?’[1626]
With such encouragement from the organs of the Administration, these
outrages by soldiers soon became commonplace wherever they were
assembled, with uniformed ruffians swaggering down the streets pushing
civilians into the gutters, taking liberties with women, picking
quarrels while drunk, and slashing and lunging with dirk and
sword.[1627] This bullying spirit affected the petty officers and
reached a climax when civil officials, armed with a warrant for a thief
who had escaped to the soldiers near Philadelphia, were literally kicked
out of the camp, their warrant cursed and trampled.[1628] With the tide
rising rapidly against both the war and the army, the recruiting lagged.
Adams in later years recalled that the army was as unpopular ‘as if it
had been a ferocious wild beast let loose upon the nation to devour
it.’[1629] With the recruiting officers putting forth their utmost
efforts, ‘with all the influence of Hamilton, reënforced by the magical
name of Washington,’ they were unable to ‘raise one half of their ...
little army.’[1630] Duane wrote that before the law creating the army
passed ‘there were 15,000 applications for commissions--since the
passing of the law there have been only 3000 soldiers.’[1631] There is
more than a touch of irony in the fact that while the Administration
papers were vilifying the Irish, ‘three fifths of the men enlisted were
Irish immigrants.’[1632]
But there was another reason for the failure in recruiting--the people
soon concluded that some one had cried ‘wolf’ when there was no wolf. No
one, including Hamilton, believed that France had the most remote notion
of warring on the United States. The impression grew that the army was
intended for purposes other than the protection of the country from a
foreign foe. Meanwhile, the taxes were bearing hard, the national debt
was mounting and the passion for peace returned. Right gallantly the war
party sought to reawaken the fine frenzy of the hysterical days of the
X Y Z papers. The preachers were as distressed over the possibility of
peace as the politicians, and a convention of ministers in Boston issued
a war cry. ‘You will see by these things that the clergy are not asleep
this way,’ wrote a Massachusetts man to Wolcott. ‘They ought everywhere
to be awake.’[1633] From the New York ‘Commercial Advertiser’ came a
pathetic attempt to sweep back the rising tide for peace: ‘The necessity
in times like the present in cherishing the war spirit ... is
evident.’[1634] Apropos of the report that the French were ready to make
every concession to our interest and pride, the ‘Centinel’ in Boston
sent forth the warning, ‘The trying time is now approaching’;[1635] but
the rabble, as the masses were called, could see nothing distressing in
winning a war without the loss of a drop of blood. Fenno’s ‘Gazette,’
commenting on the business stagnation, promised that ‘a war with France
would within two months revivify every department of society, commerce
would be invigorated, the funds would rise, and every employment of life
would receive new vigor.’[1636] This sordid note he was soon to strike
again.[1637] But it was all unavailing. The enlistments dwindled to
nothing, common soldiers were actually cheering the Democratic Governor
in the streets of Philadelphia, no one feared an invasion, and, as
Wolcott confided to Fisher Ames, ‘no one has thought it prudent to say
that the army is kept to suppress or prevent rebellions.’[1638] To make
matters all the worse, desertions multiplied until the harassed McHenry
was writing Hamilton urging executions. The little rhymester was far
beyond his depths, scolded by Washington, kicked like a flunky by
Hamilton in one or two letters a day. But the idea of shooting a
deserter was a bit too high-toned for Hamilton. ‘There must be some
caution,’ he wrote, ‘not to render our military system odious by giving
it the appearance of being sanguinary.’[1639] Adams was prepared for
extreme measures, but it was decided to leave the decision with Hamilton
and McHenry--which meant with Hamilton. ‘If the virtuous General
Hamilton is determined upon shooting every soldier who deserts,’ said
‘The Aurora,’ ‘Billy Wilcox’s court martial will be kept at pretty
constant duty. In a Daily Advertiser of last week no less than ten of
these strayed gentlemen are advertised for apprehension at $10 a
head.’[1640]
But Hamilton was too wise to shoot.
IV
The war cry was sinking to a hoarse whisper when Dr. James Logan, who
had entertained the Washingtons, and who was a follower of Jefferson,
quietly slipped out of Philadelphia one day and sailed for France--and
the war hawks were in a frenzy. When Logan, at his own expense and
wholly on his own volition, went to Paris, it was to determine the state
of the public mind there for himself. He was a leading citizen, his
family familiar to society, his home one of the most cultured in the
community, and, aside from being a friend of the French democracy, he
was a Quaker and an enemy of war. He felt that the country had been
deceived by war propaganda, and he determined to find out for himself.
The war wing of the Federalist Party knew that an investigation in Paris
was the one thing they could not afford. No one knew better that war was
unnecessary and that the French were ready if not eager to recede.
Harrison Gray Otis knew it best of all because his fellow Federalist of
Boston and classmate, Richard Codman, was writing him from Paris of the
French disposition for peace and conciliation. But this was being
carefully concealed from the American people. Thus, when Logan sailed it
was clearly the cue for the war party to hint darkly of weird
conspiracies with the French and a factional embassy from the Democrats.
Soon Harper, who had a supersensitive nose for conspiracies and treason,
was hinting mysteriously on the floor of the House of a traitorous
correspondence between the French Directory and the Jeffersonian Party.
The truth is that, when Logan foolishly made a mystery of his departure
and almost surreptitiously stole out of Philadelphia, he carried letters
from Jefferson and Governor McKean. Four or five days before his
departure he had informed Jefferson of his purpose and asked for letters
of introduction and a certification of his citizenship. It was not a
secret that Jefferson was opposed to a preventable war, but no
instructions were given the Doctor, no communication was sent by
Jefferson, and there was no conspiracy at all.[1641] Thus, on his own
volition Logan went to Paris, talked with Otis’s Federalist friend
Codman and other Americans, conversed with leading Frenchmen, dined with
Merlin, met Talleyrand, and ascertained, as he had expected, that peace
could be preserved with honor. A simple, honest man, with none of the
crooked mental twists of the professional politician, he returned with
the confident expectation that the President and his advisers would be
glad to get the benefit of his observations. He reached Philadelphia to
find himself the object of immeasurable abuse.
Not doubting that Pickering would be glad to have his impressions, Logan
went first to him. This was, in truth, a ludicrous performance, and a
Federalist paper was moved to mirth because he had ‘actually unfolded
his budget to Pickering’ and ‘needless to say’ returned ‘with a bug in
his ear.’[1642] Going on to Trenton, the temporary seat of government,
he saw Washington, to be received with more than his customary coldness.
He had a message from Lafayette to Washington. ‘Aye,’ said the General.
And one from Kosciusko. ‘Aye,’ said Washington. Whereupon Logan
courteously proffered him the use of his home, which the Washingtons had
often found agreeable, while in Philadelphia, to have his offer curtly
declined. Even Pinckney haughtily refused the use of Logan’s carriage
when the General was seeking a conveyance to the capital. ‘This fellow
Logan had the unparalleled effrontery to offer the General a seat in his
carriage,’ sneered a war paper.[1643] Some historians insist that Adams
treated him contemptuously, and this seems probable in the light of the
latter’s letter to Pickering,[1644] albeit Gibbs records that Adams was
much impressed with Logan’s story and with his sincerity and
candor.[1645] The letter was written to Pickering, however, before the
interview was granted.
When Congress met, Logan found himself the subject of a bitter debate
brought on by the introduction of the so-called ‘Logan Law’ prohibiting
unofficial meddling in international affairs. Harper had followed his
cue and found his conspiracy. Logan had actually presented a paper to
the Directory as from one having authority. The story was all too thin,
the facts too badly twisted, and the Jeffersonians under the leadership
of Gallatin showed their teeth. The climax came when Harper read the
paper which Logan was presumed to have presented. Then, through frank
letters in ‘The Aurora,’ Logan brought out the truth to the discomfiture
of the war hawks. In view of the scurvy treatment he has received, his
own statement is one of value. He had been met at Hamburg by Lafayette,
who had furnished him with the means to proceed to Paris. There he found
negotiations at an end. Knowing no law, ‘moral or political,’ that
prevented him from serving his country, he had sought interviews with
leading characters and found France anxious for peace. Whereupon he had
suggested the lifting of the embargo on American shipping detained in
French ports and the release of American sailors held prisoners. He had
not gone to Paris ‘at the direction or on the request or on the advice
of any person whatever.’ He went for his own pleasure, on his own views,
and at his own expense.[1646] Not only had the memorial Harper had read
to the house not been presented by him, it had not been written by him,
but by a good Federalist who was an intimate friend and correspondent of
Harrison Gray Otis, and he had refused the request to present it on the
ground of its ‘having too much the appearance of an official act.’[1647]
The absolute veracity of this story was known to Otis, who was intimate
with Harper, for he had a letter from Codman in verification, and to the
effect that Logan had told Talleyrand that in the event of war all
parties in America would rally around the Government ‘and oppose all its
enemies.’[1648]
Thus there was a conspiracy, a peculiarly ugly conspiracy, of the war
hawks to ruin an honest, patriotic, if Quixotic man because of his
interference with their plans to manufacture a needless and therefore a
criminal war.
But there was a special reason for the war party’s rage over Logan.
About this time Elbridge Gerry, one of the three envoys, who had stayed
over in Paris on the invitation of Talleyrand, had returned with a
similar story. The Federalists had been outraged by his failure to leave
with his colleagues, and on his return to his home in Cambridge he
found himself socially ostracized. Adams, who was his friend, had
severely condemned him for continuing his conferences in Paris.[1649] So
bitter was the feeling against him, that the war party did not scruple
to terrorize his family in his absence. His wife received anonymous
letters charging that a woman was responsible for his lingering in
Paris. With only women and children in his house, their nights were made
hideous with yells and bonfires under their windows; and one morning
Mrs. Gerry looked out of the window on a miniature guillotine smeared
with blood. On his return, Gerry had gone to Philadelphia and left his
dispatches, which Pickering had published with his intemperate comments.
The Federalists were well pleased with Pickering’s excoriation.
And Jefferson? So different was his conception of public opinion that he
was delighted. Seizing upon the Gerry correspondence as a complete
answer to the X Y Z papers, he wrote Edmund Pendleton that it was too
voluminous for the masses, and urging him to prepare ‘a capitulation ...
stating everything ... short, simple, and leveled to every capacity ...
so concise, as, omitting nothing material, may yet be printed in
handbills, of which we could print and disperse ten or twelve thousand
copies under letter covers, through all the United States by the members
of Congress when they return home.’[1650]
Meanwhile, Gerry had hastened to Quincy, and in the rambling frame house
of the President was going over the situation with him.
V
The restoration of peace with France would mean the end of the army
created with so much expense and trouble. So determined were the
Hamiltonians on war that they were ready to wreck the Federalist Party
on the issue. Many explanations have been offered. Wolcott had hinted in
his letter to Ames that an army was wanted for domestic use.[1651] That
was the common charge of the Democrats. That there was another and more
portentous reason we may be sure, albeit the public, and even John
Adams, was ignorant of it.
At that time a queer little Latin-American soldier of fortune, Francesco
de Miranda, was living in London, playing about Downing Street, and
conferring with Rufus King, the American Minister, who, next to Morris,
was the ablest of Hamilton’s lieutenants. There was a possibility that
at any time England might be forced to war on Spain should that country
enter into the struggle on the side of France. The United States was
then engaged in a quarrel with Spain. It was the idea of Miranda to
enlist England and the United States in a grand revolutionary scheme in
South America. He had discussed it with the British Ministers and with
King, who was in correspondence with Hamilton. It involved an alliance
between the English-speaking countries. This had been hinted at, as we
have seen, long before, by Hamilton in a letter to Pickering, who was in
favor of entering into such an alliance without delay. It was the plan
of Miranda for England to furnish the ships, not exceeding twenty, men
and money; the United States to supply no less than seven thousand
soldiers, two thousand of these being cavalry. The lure of Florida and
Cuba was held out to the United States.[1652] Here was a grand scheme of
conquest that appealed irresistibly to Hamilton’s ambition for military
glory.[1653] Entirely unknown to Adams or Washington, Hamilton had been
in correspondence with the soldier of fortune, and in communication with
him through King who was managing the London end of the affair. He made
it plain to King that in the event of a successful issue he would want
the United States to be the principal agency. ‘The command in this case
would very naturally fall upon me, and I hope I should disappoint no
favorable anticipations,’ he wrote. He thought the country not quite
ripe for the enterprise, but ‘we ripen fast, and it may, I think, be
rapidly brought to maturity if an efficient negotiation for the purpose
is at once set on foot.’[1654] To Miranda he was writing that he would
not embark in the affair ‘unless patronized by the Government of this
country.’ An army of twelve thousand men was being raised. ‘General
Washington has resumed his station at the head of our armies, I am
second in command.’[1655] In the autumn of 1798, he was writing Senator
Gunn on the importance of heavy cannon for fortifications and mortars
in the case of a siege. ‘If we engage in war our game will be to attack
where we can. France is not to be considered as separated from her ally.
Tempting objects will be within our grasp.’[1656] In January, 1799,
Hamilton was writing Otis in the same strain. ‘If universal empire is
still to be the pursuit of France, what can tend to defeat that purpose
better than to detach South America from Spain.... The Executive ought
to be put in a situation to embrace favorable conjunctures for effecting
that separation.’[1657] With all this Pickering was familiar and in
sympathy, but Adams was in total ignorance. In time the subject was
cautiously broached to him, to be rejected with the curt notation that
we were not at war with Spain. But the record is too clear to leave the
South American project out of consideration in seeking the reason for
the intense desire for war--and a large army. Through all this period,
Hamilton had visions of himself on horseback, at the head of troops in
South America, with England as an ally.[1658]
Never had Hamilton felt himself so near the top of the world. When
Congress met in the fall of 1798, he had a plan ready for a complete
change in the formation of the Nation. This provided for eighty United
States District Courts;[1659] the division of old States into new ones
for any territory having as many as 100,000 people on the request of any
considerable number--which would or could have made seven States out of
Virginia; and for the extension and more rigid enforcement of the
Sedition Law.
It was on this state of affairs that Adams, perplexed, harassed, worried
by the serious illness of Abigail, aching under the humiliations visited
upon him by the bosses of his party, meditated during the summer and
early fall of 1798. And he thought seriously, too, on what Gerry had
told him of the temper of France.
VI
This had almost persuaded him that a new mission to France was feasible,
when a letter from Murray at The Hague, indicating uneasiness in Paris
lest the United States be forced into an alliance with England,
convinced him. Thus, about the middle of October, in a letter to
Pickering, he submitted two questions for the consideration of the
Cabinet. ‘Should there be a declaration of war?’ ‘Could proposals for
further negotiations be made with safety, and should a new envoy be
named, prepared to sail on assurances that he would be received?’
That letter fell like a bomb in the camp of the war conspirators. How
Pickering must have scowled, and McHenry grumbled, and Wolcott shrugged
his shoulders with a cynical grin when they sat down to meditate on its
meaning. That more important personages were informed we may be sure. To
that note, however, the Cabinet did not deign to reply. Had not Adams
declared that he would never send another envoy unless solemnly assured
that he would be received? No such assurance had come. Then why discuss
it--even on the request of the President? However, a Message would have
to be sent to Congress, and with Adams in a conciliatory frame of mind
it was imperative that something definite await him on his arrival. Thus
the conspirators sat down to the framing of a Message that would defeat
the very purpose the letter had indicated. Hamilton and Pinckney were
summoned to the conference. The result was a paragraph putting it
squarely up to France to take the initiative in the matter of a renewal
of negotiations. Wolcott, who, better than any of the others, could hide
his treachery behind an ingratiating urbanity, was put forward as the
author. Reaching the capital, Adams summoned his Cabinet to go over the
Message. All went well until the fateful paragraph was reached, and
instantly the keen eye of the suspicious old man caught its full
significance. That, he would not accept, and an open struggle began.
With earnestness and even heat the obnoxious paragraph was urged upon
him, but Adams planted his feet and stood. He would rewrite that
paragraph to conform to his personal view of the proprieties.[1660]
The Cabinet conspirators retired with the realization that there were
dark days ahead. Adams in his substitute held forth the olive branch to
the extent of declaring that no new envoy would be sent unless
assurances were forthcoming that he would be properly received.
Washington, Hamilton, and Pinckney, in uniforms, sat in the chamber
when the Message was read. Two of these, at least, had grave
forebodings. Then it was that the conspirators determined to override
Adams by meeting his plan for negotiations with an immediate declaration
of war. A caucus of the Federalists was called. The most brilliant and
fiery orators were primed for the occasion. The proposal was made and
supported with eloquence. The vote was taken, and by a small majority
Adams triumphed over his foes. This was the most significant incident
yet--it meant that Hamilton had lost control of the party
councils.[1661] With that knowledge, Pickering made no further attempt
to conceal his bitter hostility to his chief. Ordered to prepare a
treaty that would be acceptable, he ignored the request. Asked to
moderate his report on the Gerry dispatches, he refused. Among his
associates he was bitterly resentful, and all this was carried to the
President, who cunningly simulated ignorance of what was happening.
Then, at length, came the desired assurances from Talleyrand, that an
envoy would be ‘received as the representative of a great, free,
powerful, and independent nation.’ That was enough. Adams was ready for
action.
Thus, without further warning to the Cabinet, a messenger from the
President appeared in the Senate on February 18th with the nomination of
Murray as Minister to France. The Federalists were paralyzed. Jefferson,
equally amazed, managed to conceal his pleasure over the evident
discomfiture of his foes.[1662] Almost a week later he still suspected
that the nomination had been sent ‘hoping the Federalists ... would
accept the responsibility of rejecting it.’[1663] But the Federalist
Senators had no such suspicion. Their faces betrayed their indignation.
That night they met in caucus with their war paint on, and the decision
was reached to defeat the confirmation. They still had the whip hand. If
Adams would modify in some way--At any rate, he should remain in no
doubt as to their opinion of his action. A committee, consisting of
Bingham, Read, Sedgwick, Ross, and Stockton, was named to wait upon him,
and a note was sent requesting an audience. The reply left them in no
doubt as to the fighting mood of the man they sought to intimidate. He
would be very glad to receive them ‘as gentlemen, at his house, at
seven in the evening.’ At the appointed hour they were ushered into the
audience room. No one was there. Then the door opened, and Adams, the
picture of dignity on short legs, entered.
‘Gentlemen, I am glad to see you as friends and Senators; but as a
committee interfering, as I think you are, with my executive duties, I
cannot consent to receive you, and I protest against all such
interference. I have a duty to execute, and so have you. I know and
shall do mine, and I want neither your opinion nor aid in its
execution.’
At which he politely asked them to be seated.
Not a little nonplussed by his masterful manner, Bingham apologetically
explained that there was no thought of interference, but merely a
disposition to reconcile differences of opinion.
‘Well, then, gentlemen,’ snapped Adams, ‘if you are determined to
interfere in diplomatic matters, reject Mr. Murray. You have the power
to do this, and you may do it; but it will be upon your own
responsibility.’
As mildly as possible it was suggested that Adams’s action, so soon
after the insult, would be interpreted as a humiliation.
‘I know more of diplomatic forms than all of you,’ Adams hotly replied
with perfect truth. ‘It was in France that we received the insult, and
in France I am determined that we shall receive the reparation.’
Forced to compromise, a commission was then suggested.
‘Who would you have me send?’ Adams demanded, an ugly expression on his
face. ‘Shall I send Theophilus Parsons, or some of your other Essex
rulers? No, I will send none of them.’
At this the committee showed its teeth with the threat to defeat the
confirmation. Adams, infuriated by the threat, replied that there was a
party determined to rule him, but that they would fail.[1664]
That night when the caucus met again, it was decided to reject the
nomination. Meanwhile, the effect outside the Senate was quite as
sensational. Duane announced the nomination the day after it reached the
Senate, in large type. The next day ‘Porcupine’ fired a broadside.
‘For the last two days,’ he said, ‘there has been a most atrocious
falsehood in circulation ... that the President ... has intimated by a
messenger to the Senate that he has resolved on sending another
plenipotentiary to treat with the French Republic. Every one must
perceive the falsehood on the front of this; yet have audacious wretches
dared to promulgate it without hesitation and they have even named the
plenipotentiary, Mr. Murray.... I will not expatiate upon the
consequences of such a step ... because I cannot suppose the step within
the compass of possibility; but I must observe that had he taken such a
step it would have been instantaneously followed by the loss of every
friend worth preserving.’[1665] Encouraged by the applause of the
Federalists, he recurred to it the next day with a denunciation of ‘a
mere fabrication intended to alienate the President’s friends ... at
this momentous crisis and sink his character in the eyes of all Europe
and America.’[1666] But two days later, the ferocious ‘Porcupine’ had
changed his tune and was singing low, with the absurd protestation that
he had ‘never published a word with regard to the President that could
possibly be construed into disrespect.’[1667] He had discovered he was
amenable to the Alien Law he had so stoutly defended!
Adams had asserted himself and was happy, and when Pickering was writing
Washington that his successor was ‘suffering the torments of the
damned,’ Adams was writing cheerfully to his wife that he could hardly
be chosen President a second time, and would be glad of the relief.
‘To-night I must go to the ball; where I suppose I shall get cold and
have to eat gruel for breakfast for a week afterwards.’[1668] The
determined little patriot was now on the top of the world, and now it
was his enemies that were guessing. The senatorial committee had been an
idea of Hamilton’s, to whom Sedgwick had hastened the news of the
nomination. The committee had failed. Even the suggestion of two more
envoys had been scorned. Something might still be done through
conciliation. Ellsworth, the Chief Justice, had Adams’s confidence and
he was sent to try his powers of persuasion, and succeeded. Thus, the
nominations of Murray, Ellsworth, and Patrick Henry were sent to the
Senate, and confirmed without even a whimper from ‘Porcupine.’ But
beneath the surface, the passions were seething. Sedgwick wrote King
that he had not ‘conversed with an individual ... who did not
unequivocably reprobate the measure.’[1669] Tracy, who had wanted to arm
the women and children against the French, wrote McHenry that while he
had sacrificed much ‘to root out Democracy,’ he thought it ‘to be lost
and worse.’[1670] Cabot assured King that ‘surprise, indignation, grief,
and disgust followed each other in quick succession in the breasts of
the true friends of the country,’[1671] and informed Pickering that he
had written ‘a piece’ about it for the Boston papers, but that ‘the
Boston press had been fixed by the President’s friends and it had not
appeared.’[1672] To King, he ascribed Adams’s action to jealousy of
Hamilton and Washington.[1673] Pickering wrote Cabot that ‘the
President’s character can never be retrieved.’[1674] Stephen Higginson,
the merchant prince of the Essex Junto, found the world dark indeed. Why
had not war been declared in the summer of 1798? Even the powers given
Adams by the Alien and Sedition Laws had not been used![1675] Jonathan
Mason was furious because ‘from being respectable in Europe, from having
convinced Great Britain and from having associated with all the friends
of Order, Property, and Society ... we must again become soothers and
suppliants for peace from a gang of pitiful robbers.’[1676] Ames wrote
that the new embassy ‘disgusts most men here’ because they thought
‘peace with France ... an evil.’[1677] Even at Adams’s table the
jeremiads of the Federalists were heard, and the dinners were somber
affairs. Bayard of Delaware was loud in his lamentations.
‘Mr. Bayard, I am surprised to hear you express yourself in this
manner,’ said Adams. ‘Would you prefer a war with France to a war with
England in the present state of the world; would you wish for an
alliance with Great Britain and a war with France? If you would, your
opinions are totally different from mine.’
‘Great Britain is very powerful,’ Bayard replied mournfully. ‘Her navy
is very terrible.’[1678]
When at the end of the session, Adams set forth for his seat at
Braintree, Harper expressed the hope that his horses might run away and
break his neck.[1679] Only John Jay, among the outstanding Federalists,
could see no objections to the mission, but he was always bothered by
scruples.
VII
It was unfortunate that Adams’s love for Braintree caused him to desert
the capital in this crisis. The policy of the conspirators was to wear
out their chief’s purpose through procrastination, and, in the
meanwhile, to bring all possible pressure to bear to restore his secret
enemies to his good graces. He had made the sailing of the envoys
conditional on a direct assurance from France as to the reception they
would receive. Under the most favorable conditions this meant months of
delay, and the treacherous policy of Pickering made it worse. On March
6th Adams instructed his Secretary of State to inform Murray of the
conditions, but it was not until in May that the latter heard from
Pickering. Talleyrand was immediately informed, and within a week Murray
was in possession of the required official assurances, but it was the
last day of July before they reached Philadelphia. Disappointing to the
conspirators though these were, a careful study of the Talleyrand note
disclosed a touch of annoyance over the delay. The insolence of the man!
Another insult! The conspirators determined if possible to make this the
occasion for further delay. If Adams could only be persuaded to insist
upon an explanation of the impatient paragraph, more time would be
gained, and Pickering strongly recommended this in his note transmitting
the Talleyrand letter to the President. But Adams was too wary now to be
easily caught. Replying dryly that he could overlook the language for
the deed, he instructed Pickering that, while preparations for war
proceeded, the commission should be hurried to Ellsworth and Governor
Davie--for the latter had been named in the place of Henry, who had
declined--with instructions to prepare for embarkation at any moment.
Meanwhile, with Pickering taking six weeks in the preparations of the
instructions, efforts were being made to coax Adams into his enemies’
camp. One day Cabot suavely presented himself at the house at Braintree
on a purely social neighborly visit. He went at the instance of the
Hamiltonians to wheedle the old man back into their clutches. That the
ablest politician of the Essex Junto was affectionately friendly, we may
be sure, but his courtesy was matched by that of Adams and Mrs. Adams,
and he stayed for dinner. But Abigail never left the room. The President
occasionally went out, Abigail never. Though she was gracious to a
degree. Thus the door of opportunity was closed and locked and Abigail
had the key. Cabot found that ‘every heart was locked and every tongue
was silenced upon all topics that bore affinity to those which I wished
to touch.’[1680] Hamilton was in intimate touch with the leading members
of the Adams Cabinet all the while--far more so than Adams; but the
President knew of the movements of his dearest enemy through the
Jeffersonian press. The latter part of April found Hamilton in
Philadelphia with Gouverneur Morris, in close communion with Pickering,
Wolcott, and McHenry. Duane flippantly announced that they had ‘kept the
fast in Philadelphia,’ and that ‘a pair more pious, more chaste, more
moral perhaps never mortified the flesh and the spirit since the days of
David and the fair Shunammite.’[1681] At Braintree Adams was keeping his
own counsels, enjoying the serenity of domesticity, with occasional
excursions into Boston to attend church or the theater, always
accompanied by the Marshal of the district. When the Boston Troop went
to Braintree to accompany him, with military pomp, to the Harvard
Commencement, he was enormously pleased.[1682] But he was on the alert.
About the time Pickering’s belated instructions reached him with a
letter from the Cabinet suggesting the suspension of the mission for a
time, he read a cautiously worded note from Stoddert, his Secretary of
the Navy, hinting at the importance of his presence in Trenton, whither
the Government had temporarily gone because of the prevalence of yellow
fever again in Philadelphia. Adams was able to read between the lines.
The silent treatment to which the conspirators were being subjected
annoyed them beyond endurance. They were by no means certain it was a
hoax when they read in ‘The Aurora’ on August 15th that ‘the Executive
of the United States has ordered the frigate “John Adams” to be
prepared to carry our envoys without delay to Europe,’ and the
‘Centinel’ in Boston was not able to deny it for several days.[1683] In
September, Pickering was urging Cabot to persuade Ellsworth to dissuade
Adams from sending the mission. ‘There is nothing in politics he
despises more than this mission,’ he wrote.[1684] Ellsworth did as he
was bid--with a difference. He asked that early notice be given him of
the plans because of ‘unusual demands upon his time on the official
circuit.’[1685] The real attitude of Ellsworth is not at all plain, for
it was being whispered about that he hoped to reach the Presidency
through the success of the mission.[1686]
Then came another pretext for delay. There had come another shift in
French politics, with some indications of the restoration of the
Jacobins to power, and Talleyrand had resigned. Did this not call for
further postponement? Adams replied in the affirmative, fixing the
latter part of October as the limit, and promising to be in Trenton by
the middle of that month. Rejoicing in this delay, Pickering began to
meditate on the possible intervention of the Senate. With this in view
he wrote Cabot for advice. The reply was wholly unsatisfactory. ‘If the
Senate should be admitted to possess a right to determine a priori what
foreign connections should be sought or shunned, I should fear that they
would soon exhibit the humiliating spectacle of cap and hats which so
long and so naturally appeared in Sweden,’ said Cabot.[1687] Adams had
the power, and he was silent. The conspirators began to mobilize for a
desperate attempt at Trenton.
VIII
On October 6th, Adams drove down the road from Braintree on his way to
Trenton with such secrecy that he was halfway there before Cabot knew he
had gone.[1688] The conspirators were there before him, Pinckney on the
ground, Hamilton at Newark within easy call. Ellsworth had been summoned
from Hartford. Governor Davie, having received a flattering address from
his fellow citizens at Raleigh, was on the road, ‘a troop of horse and
a cavalcade of citizens escorting him four miles on his way.’[1689]
Adams reached Trenton on Thursday, and on Friday night there was ‘a
handsome display of fireworks’ in his honor, ‘in which Mr. Guimpe, the
artist, exhibited much skill and ingenuity.’ The initials of Adams and
Washington ‘displayed in colored fires was received with shouts of
applause.’ On Saturday, Ellsworth arrived. Hamilton appeared upon the
scene. Just at that juncture the conspirators were much elated with the
news of the successes of the British army under the Duke of York in
Holland, and the triumphant march of the Russians under Suwarrow in
Switzerland. Might not the next report bring the news of the restoration
of the Bourbons in France, and the end to the hideous nightmare of
democracy? Here was a new club, and the conspirators laid eager hands
upon it. Hamilton called to urge the point.
‘Why, Sir, by Christmas Louis XVIII will be seated upon his throne,’ he
declared.
‘By whom?’ demanded Adams.
‘By the coalition,’ Hamilton replied.
‘Ah, then,’ said Adams, ‘farewell to the independence of Europe.’[1690]
When the President entertained the two envoys at dinner, he was amazed
to find Ellsworth echoing the views of Hamilton.
‘Is it possible, Mr. Chief Justice,’ demanded Adams, ‘that you can
seriously believe that the Bourbons are, or will soon be restored to the
throne of France?’
‘Why,’ said Ellsworth, smiling sheepishly, ‘it looks a good deal so.’
‘I should not be afraid to stake my life upon it that they will not be
restored for seven years, if they ever are,’ was Adams’s retort.[1691]
The coincidence in the views of the two men was not lost on Adams, who
asked a member of his Cabinet if ‘Ellsworth and Hamilton had come all
the way from Windsor and New York to persuade me to countermand the
mission.’[1692] That was an ominous comment. The resulting excitement
among his advisers did not escape the watchful eye of Adams, who wrote
Abigail that it left him ‘calmly cold.’
On the night of October 15th Adams, calm, cold, thrice-armed, sat about
the table with his Cabinet, no longer deceived by any of them save
Wolcott. The purpose was the consideration of the instructions that had
been prepared. Some changes were made. Adams asked advice on certain
points. At eleven o’clock the instructions were unanimously approved.
The Cabinet lingered, but Adams brought up no new subject. Out into the
dark Trenton streets trooped the conspirators, almost hopeful. They were
still at breakfast the next morning when orders were received from Adams
that the instructions should be put in shape, a frigate be placed in
readiness to receive the envoys who should sail not later than the first
of the month.
The conspiracy had failed and John Adams was actually President.
The Jeffersonians were jubilant. Duane wrote that Adams had ‘crossed the
Rubicon,’ but that the rumor that Pickering and Wolcott had resigned was
groundless. ‘They will never sacrifice their places to squeamish
feelings.’[1693] Hamilton had sought to deter the President, but to his
honor ‘he resisted every seducement and repelled every
insinuation.’[1694] The Hamiltonians were either furious or depressed.
The Southern Federalists under Marshall approved, as did Jay, and the
‘Centinel’ commended the act, but the men who had made and maintained
the prestige of the Federalist Party were in murderous mood. The mission
would succeed--they knew it. There would be no war, and the army would
have to go. With that would go the instrument for keeping down
insurrections in America or for waging a war of conquest in South
America. With one masterful effort, Adams had pulled down the pillars of
the party temple and he could not escape in its fall. But it was the
proudest and most masterful moment in his life, and he was content. Long
after the _débâcle_ he was to write that he asked no better epitaph than
the sentence that he had taken upon himself the responsibility of the
peace with France.
IX
From that moment the Federalists were a house divided against itself,
and the cloud burst and the rain descended and beat upon it, and the
days were dark. Dreary, indeed, that winter of 1799. ‘Porcupine’ was
driven from Philadelphia, and young Fenno, disgusted, gave up his paper
with a farewell address so contemptuous of democracy and American
institutions that the wiser leaders trembled at his temerity. M’Kean,
the Democrat, had been swept into the gubernatorial office. Washington
had died, and could no longer be used to advance the party interest.
Even the dashing Harper, clever in political fight or social frolic, had
despaired of the future in politics, resigned his seat, and made
arrangements to move to Baltimore as the son-in-law of Carroll of
Carrollton.[1695] Duane was firing relentlessly at the scandals and
finding flesh, and there was no ‘Porcupine’ to return the fire. The
brilliant and audacious Charles Pinckney had appeared in the Senate to
give a militant leadership to the Jeffersonians that the Federalists
could not match. Into the House had come a giant, in John Marshall, to
give to a later-day Federalism a sanity that came too late, but he was
with Adams, not Hamilton.
The shadows even fell on the brilliant Federalist society. Hamilton was
there that winter, to be sure, ‘to keep the watch,’ as Duane put it, and
through an unhappy coincidence ‘The Aurora’ was able to add that ‘Mrs.
Reynolds, the sentimental heroine,’ was back in town. But something like
tragedy had fallen on the Holland House of Federalism, and weeping was
heard in the rooms once given to gayety and laughter. One night Marie
Bingham, not sixteen, slipped out of the home of her father, with Count
de Tilly, age forty-five, a dissolute scion of the French aristocracy
with an eye to the Bingham fortune, and was married at two o’clock in
the morning. The couple were found in the home of a French milliner in
the early morning, and physicians worked over the brilliant Mrs.
Bingham, who was in hysterics. Money soon dissolved the union, but the
lights were never quite so bright thereafter in the princely mansion of
the cleverest hostess in Philadelphia. The rain fell even upon the House
of Bingham.[1696]