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Chapter IX
Friends and Enemies
ОглавлениеFrom an early period in the war until after the overthrow of Louis XVI, a number of brilliant Frenchmen landed on our shores. Some, like La Fayette, the Duc de Lauzun, the Vicomte de Noailles, the Marquis François Jean de Chastellux, Rochambeau, Tousard, Pont de Gibaud, Duportail, Maudiut Duplessis, the Comte de la Rouarie, or Colonel Armand as he was known to his fellows, came to fight.
Others, like Louis Philippe, the Comte de Volney, the Comte Alexandre de Tilly, Moreau de St. Méry, the Duc de la Rochefoucauld-Liancourt, J. P. Brissot de Warville, came as èmigrès or to travel; and the ubiquitous Bishop of Autun, otherwise Charles Maurice Talleyrand, after stirring up all the mischief he could in Great Britain, and starting an Irish rebellion, came here to spy. These, and many other clever and witty men from different parts of Europe, among them the veteran soldier Steuben, gave to society at the time of the American Revolution a decided charm. We find them in Philadelphia, as well as at every large army camp, and in the gloom incident to the hardship and struggles of a poorly equipped force fighting against superior numbers of well-trained troops, they were cheerful and welcome visitors. They certainly brought with them a fund of gayety, which did much to raise the drooping spirits of the hardy patriots, and with most of them Hamilton was on very good terms. Of him Oliver draws this picture, which, perhaps, applies to a later period, but according to those French travellers and writers who knew him in the field, he was always fascinating: "This serious young statesman we gather to have been remarkable in private life, chiefly for his high spirits, his good looks, his bright eyes, and his extraordinary vivacity. He loved the society of his fellow-creatures, and shone in It. He loved good wine and good company and beautiful things—even clothes and ruffles of fine lace. He despised slovens and people like Jefferson, who dressed ostentatiously in homespun. He belonged to the age of manners, and silk stockings, and handsome shoe-buckles. In Bagehot's excellent phrase, 'he was an enjoying English gentleman'; companionable and loyal, gay and sincere, always masterful and nearly always dignified."
Let us see, then, who were his friends. As a rule, they were men who were honorable and well educated, of good courage and good breeding, gallant and chivalrous, and who possessed the other attractions of an heroic age.
As his capacity for making lasting friends was greatly inferior to the ease with which he made enemies, this can be explained by the statement of one of his historians that "his love for his country was always greater than his love for his countrymen," and it can be easily conceived how a man with so critical a sense, and with such strong ideas regarding unselfish requirements for the public weal, must not only fail to exert himself for the mere shallow fascination of his fellow men, as did Burr, for instance, but must antagonize many men with less lofty aims.
His attachments were strangely assorted, but, as a rule, were very deep, very affectionate, and very lasting; and, as is usually the case, the less brilliant and more sober-minded friends were those that remained loyal and unselfishly devoted to him until the end, and did more for his family after his death than any of the others. It may be said that they were divided into two categories: those that were drawn to him by his humorous and almost feminine traits, which were coupled with a fascinating culture and a flow of spirits that almost bubbled over; and others, who had been engaged with him in the war, and in his legal practice, and the many public affairs which were so vital at the time. These really loved him for his great intellectual gifts and his absolute sense of justice. Although Lodge has gravely declared that he had no imagination, it does, on the contrary, appear that he had a lively sense of humor, and was at times exceedingly witty.
This is shown in his letters to John Laurens, to La Fayette, and a few of his early friends, and in the rather short and unsatisfactory remaining correspondence with his wife and sister-in-law. In 1780, at a time when the condition of affairs was certainly not conducive to high spirits, we find that he wrote, in the field, to General Anthony Wayne in regard to a Rev. Dr. Mendey, "who is exceedingly anxious to be in the service, and I believe has been forced out of it not altogether by fair play. He is just what I should like for a military parson, except that he does not drink, and he will not insist upon your going to heaven whether you will or not."
There is the jauntiness of the gay soldier in his few words to one of his warmest army friends, Otho Williams (1779): "Mind your eye, my dear boy, and if you have an opportunity, fight hard," but a tenderer note in his long letter to John Laurens, which is not so well known as to lose its charm by abridged repetition; probably none of his com-
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assistance were pitiable indeed, for he appears to have been always in financial distress.
It has been stated by several historians that he often spoke of Hamilton not only as his friend, but as his banker and it would seem as if the latter was much more than this, if we may infer from the number of unpaid promissory notes from the baron to Hamilton which are found among the latter's papers, among them judgments in favor of Hector St. Jean de Crevecœur for various large sums. On November 23, 1785, Hamilton wrote to Washington as follows: "The poor Baron is still soliciting Congress and has every prospect of indigence before him. He has his imprudences, but on the whole he has rendered valuable services, and his merits and the reputation of the country alike demand that he should not be left to suffer want. If there could be any mode by which your influence could be employed in his favor by writing to your friends in Congress or otherwise, the Baron and his friends would be under great obligations to you."
Chancellor Livingston wrote to Hamilton in regard to Steuben's affairs as follows, in a letter dated March 3, 1787:
I received your favor with the Baron's papers inclosed by the post. The letter you mention I have sent by a private hand now under me. I enclose a letter to the Baron containing my opinion tho' I confess to you that I do think that in publishing it (as he told me he purposed) he will show more resentment than prudence. He will provoke replies, he will be called upon to show what he has lost, the payments to him will be compared with what other officers have received. It will be said that Congress have failled in all their engagements from necessity, that there is nothing singular in his solicitation. In short, he will hear many things that will vex and disturb him and he will exclude himself from all hopes of a further provision. When a more liberal sperit, or a heavier purse may incline Congress to make it. If you think with me, you will use your influence with him to drop the idea of a publication that can do him no good, but may injure him.
It would appear that this brave old soldier was ultimately cared for, and the trite saying that nations are ungrateful was disproved, for through the influence of Schuyler, Livingston, and Hamilton, he was finally given a large tract of land, amounting to sixteen thousand acres, in the upper part of New York State, a portion of which he gave to Captain Ben Walker and to Generals North and Popham, and there he lived for the rest of his life, dying November 20, 1794. The State of New Jersey also gave him land, and the National Government an annuity of twenty-five hundred dollars.
The gay trio to which Hamilton and Laurens belonged was made complete by La Fayette. On the whole, there was something about them rather suggestive of the three famous heroes of Dumas, although the period of the American Revolution was less romantic than that of the Musketeers. It is true that Hamilton was urged to kidnap the English General Clinton, who insecurely held New York, but refused upon the score that the latter, because of his incompetence, could do more harm if he were suffered to remain where he was than if captured.
There is a note of romance in their friendship, quite unusual even in those days, and La Fayette, especially during his early sojourn in this country, was on the closest terms with Hamilton. He touchingly writes from Paris, April 12, 1782, as follows:
Dear Hamilton: However silent you may please to be, I will nevertheless remind you of a friend who loves you tenderly, and who, by his attachment, deserves a great share in your affection.
This letter, my dear Sir, will be delivered or sent by Count de Segur, an intimate friend of mine, a man of wit and of abilities, and whose society you will certainly be pleased with.
I warmly recommend him to you, and hope he will meet from you with more than civilities.
At this late day La Fayette certainly seems, to some extent, a disappointing figure in history, if his behavior at home during and after the French Revolution is considered. While his aid to the American cause, prior to his return to France and shortly before the above letter was written, entitles him to the deep gratitude of all Americans, and his career while in America was that of an unselfish and brave soldier, who gave all his energy and much of his fortune to the cause of patriots, his remarkable weakness at a time when his sovereign was in the gravest danger is almost incredible, and cannot even be explained by the fact that he had taken part in our own struggle for freedom, and had been influenced by his sympathy with the colonists, who were themselves fighting for liberty.
Hamilton certainly must have lost much of his respect and no little of his affection for his old friend for the manner in which he had acted, for in a later letter he criticised Burr's conduct in making disloyal toasts, among them one to La Fayette. He refers to this as an evidence of Burr's misconduct and sympathy with 'the daring scoundrels of every party' and his tendency "to avail himself of their assistance, and of all the bad passions of society.
MARQUIS GILBERT MOTIER DE LA FAYETTE
But Hamilton's friendship for La Fayette was shown in late years, even after he had disappointed him by his conduct during the French Revolution, and in his connection with the Garde Nationale. When captured by the Austrians after his conflict with the extreme Jacobins, he escaped across the frontier, was imprisoned in Olmütz, and treated with great brutality, owing to a desire for retaliation for the treatment by the French of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette. Here he remained secluded and unheard of until he was later joined by his wife and daughter. Through the exertions of Fox, Wilberforce, and Sheridan, as well as Washington and Hamilton, strong representations were made to the Prussian Government, though in so doing serious complications with the French were narrowly escaped. Young George Washington La Fayette, the son, who had been sent here during the Reign of Terror, was, for a time, an inmate of Hamilton's house, and was treated like a son by the latter, and acted in conjunction with others in his father's behalf. In 1794 a Dr. Bollman, and Francis Kinloch Huger, of South Carolina, by a brilliant stroke, effected La Fayette's escape, but he was recaptured and taken, in chains, back to his dungeon. It was not until 1797 that he was liberated by Napoleon.
To her sister Mrs. Church wrote in 1795: "You will receive the letter by Dr. Bollman, a young gentleman of good sense and polite manners, his exertions for the Marquis de La Fayette have been so zealous and active that every good American must honor him for his generous conduct; his friend, Mr. Huger, is also greatly entitled to praise for what he has done. I hope that my Brother will afford them his best assistance in an introduction to General Washington and our distinguished men."
La Fayette's subsequent career was interesting, by reason of the manner in which he adapted himself to the kaleidoscopic changes of French misgovemment, for his attitude was never stable or consistent. At this moment I may be pardoned for referring at length to a somewhat interesting incident, which tells how this distinguished person figured in the history of another branch of my family. In 1829 my maternal grandfather, Louis McLane of Delaware, was Minister to England, and one of his many sons was Robert M. McLane, now dead. Seeking for a school, he wrote to his friend La Fayette, who replied:
I Have for some time devised an answer to your kind letter February 16th Because I wanted to take information relative to the several schools in Paris. The result of my inquiries is very favorable to the College of Louis le Grand. It appears the young men are well attended to with respect to the diet, the personal care, and that the classic studies are as well, they even say Better Conducted than in any other school of the kind. I cannot therefore but encourage the choice you are disposed to make.
Another point had a claim upon my Solicitude. I was afraid of a private Roman Catholic influence, as it is now Become a Government party affair. But I am assured that young Protestants at the College Have Had no cause of complaint in that way. Let me add, my dear Sir, that you may depend upon my earnest and tender love, not only By personal attention, But through men more fit than I am, to Receive minute information and act upon them in Contact with me.
We are in a critical parliamentary situation, the address to the King will be debated next Monday in committee agreeably to a very improper article of the Charter, it shall expect a letter of disapprobation of the Polignac administration; I don't question its obtaining a great majority. What will follow is very uncertain. The King, his son, and some of the ministers seem determined to go on. Whether the Chamber will be prorogued, dissolved or kept to try the continuance of a stormy session, it must be known in a few days.
Have you been pleased to ask Mr. Perkins what has become of his Pole friend Borowsky? No answer or Bill from Him Has Been received by Mr. Laweschi.
Be so kind as to present my affectionate Respects to Mrs. McLane. My son begs to be respectfully remembered, and I am. Most Cordially,
Your friend,
Lafayette.
The lad was, upon his recommendation, sent to Paris where he remained; but meanwhile the Revolution of 1830 had broken out, and McLane sent Washington Irving, who was his secretary, to France to investigate, and the latter subsequently reported to the anxious father:
Paris, August 7, 1830.
My Dear Sir: I arrived here last evening after a very pleasant journey through country as tranquil as England on a Sunday; nothing but the national cockade of the traduced flag displayed in every direction gave a hint of the great revolution that had taken place. On my arrival in Paris, I was struck with the unusual number of pedestrians on the streets, in pairs or in groups, all talking with great earnestness, but general good humor. I never have seen even the lively streets of Paris so animated on an ordinary evening of the week.
Today the Chambers are in session, and it is expected the question will be decided before night, who is to succeed to the vacant throne. I have not been able to see anyone who could procure me admission to the Chamber. I called on Mr. Rives, but he was from home, and had gone himself to the Chamber. There appears to be some awakening among the leaders; they fear some movement among the people in favor of a republic. There has been an attempt to assemble the students before the Chamber in order to intimidate them, but it has failed. I don't see any ground for serious apprehension. The republican party is not strong. There are small parties also in favor of the Duke de Bordeaux, and the son of Napoleon, but the great mass of the people and almost all those who have property at stake, seem convinced that the weak mode of quieting the present state of excitement and restoring anything promptly to order is to call the Duke of Orleans to the throne. I have been in the open place before the Chamber of Deputies. It was filled with people, the great part young men. Precautions had been taken against any popular commotion. The interior of the Court yard was strongly garrisoned by a detachment of the garde Nationale and another detachment was stationed at the head of the adjacent bridge. I saw, however, no sign of riot among the people. The assemblage reminded me of the crowd before one of our polls, and I have never seen anything in France that so completely rebuked the populace of a free country (?). Everyone was expressing his opinion loudly and copiously, discussing men, makers, forms of government, etc. The discussions, however, were carried on without passion, with mutual civility, with acuteness and good sense; in fact, it is surprising to see the moderation, the judgment and magnanimity which have governed and still govern this vast population throughout the whole of this sudden and extraordinary situation. I feel satisfied that all will go right, and that the Duke of Orleans will be called to the throne immediately, and with the general approbation of the people, though the people will take advantage of the present crisis to augment their power, and to diminish the royal prerogative.
This triumph of the Parisians has been so brilliant, prompt and decisive, and has put them in such general good humor that they seem to have lost their bitterness against the Bourbons. They speak of them with contempt rather than otherwise; they caricature, lampoon and laugh at them, and the shop windows already teem with ludicrous caricatures of Charles X. When they speak of the ministers, however, their tone changes, and they hold them accountable for all the blood that has been shed.
The battle has been fought by the very lowest people. I have been told by those who visited the scene of the combat, that the slain are generally people of the poorest classes. Was the struggle here to be achieved by the people of property, the Bourbons would have still been upon the throne.
I called this morning to see Robert at his school. He looks well and rather less like a race horse than when in London. The soupe maigre, in spite of his abuse of it, agrees with him. I like the looks of his school, its external appearance, the general air of its arrangements are better than any I have seen in Paris. Robert was at school when the revolution broke out. He kept tolerably quiet during the two first days, but when a third day of fighting came, it was too much for him, and he and almost a dozen other boys broke out of school and ran to set the world in order. They joined in some of the skirmishing, but had no other weapons than stones and one or two old pistols. Rob only threw stones, and on my putting him on his honor and conscience, he confessed that he could not boast of having killed a single man, but he and his band of truant revolutionists afterwards made a forage into the center of Paris, but the fighting was already over and all the killing done, so they returned quietly to their school, quite satisfied with their share of the victory. On the following Sunday he was supposed to go out to visit his friends, Paris then being tranquil. He went with the other boys, to see Genl Lafayette go in State to visit the Duke of Orleans. The General passed through the streets escorted by his (black) guards in ragged breeches with drawn swords. The people shouted "Vive Lafayette," but Rob and his companions who were on a heap of stones cried in English, "Long live Lafayette!" and they attracted the attention of the General. He recognized Bob, took him by the hand and they walked together the most of the way to the Palais Royal, Bob being no doubt mistaken by the populace for some surprising youth who had signalized himself in the late Victory, bob asked me very anxiously whether it was true that the people meant to storm the Chamber of Deputies today, as such a report had prevailed in the school and the master had put them all on their honors that they would not break out. gave him my opinion that there would be no tumult to call either for their aid or opposition, and his Zeal and anxiety seemed in some measure pacified. He will have a good deal to tell his Mama and sisters when he returns home. They have reason to be proud of him. I left directions with Mr. Beasley about your [illegible] which will be promptly attended to.
With kind remembrances to Mrs. McLane and the family, I remain, my dear sir.
Yours very truly,
Washington Irving.
The Vicomte de Noailles, closely related to La Fayette, came here very early in the Revolution and was one of the small coterie of army friends who were with Hamilton at York-town. The latter wrote to him in 1782:
Esteem for your talents and acquirements is a sentiment which, from my earliest acquaintance with you, dear Viscount, I have shared in common with all those who have the happiness of knowing you; but a better knowledge of your character has given it, in my eyes, a more intrinsic merit, and has attached me to you by a friendship founded upon qualities as rare as they are estimable. I cannot forbear indulging this declaration, to express to you the pleasure I felt at receiving (after an inexplicable delay), the letter you were so obliging as to write me before your departure from Boston. It was of that kind which is always produced by those attentions of friends we value; which, not being invited by circumstances nor. necessitated by the form of Society, bespeak the warmth of the heart. At least my partiality for you makes me proud of viewing it in this light and I cherish the opinion.
He continues in this happy vein, trusting that his friend will return. After his service here de Noailles, like La Fayette, retired to France and took the liberal side in the French Revolution, but was finally obliged to flee from the blood-thirsty sans-culottes, leaving his wife, who was afterward guillotined in 1794, together with his father and mother. He came to the United States a second time in that year, and for a time entered into business, being with Bingham & Co., the bankers of Philadelphia, and speculated so successfully that he acquired a large fortune. He again re-entered the French service and went to Santo Domingo, and afterward to Cuba, where, in an action between his ship and an English man-of-war, he was killed. During his stay in Philadelphia he saw Hamilton frequently, and their old friendship was renewed.
Another army friend was General Nathaniel Greene, who was president of the court of inquiry in the Andre case. After his death, Hamilton's enemies even alleged that the latter was guilty of malfeasance during the time he was Secretary of the Treasury in looking after the affairs of his dead friend, and had helped his widow out of the public funds. Greene, too, like Hamilton, at another time was assailed by the friends of Gates to whose command he succeeded.
With Richard K. Meade, who was also an aide-de-camp to Washington with Hamilton, there existed a close intimacy which was participated in by Mrs. Hamilton, and the Schuylers as well, and the appended extract from one of his letters is an indication of their affectionate relationship:
I have explained to you the difficulties I met with in obtaining a command last campaign. I thought it incompatible with the delicacy due to myself to make any application this campaign. I have expressed this sentiment in a letter to the General, and, retaining my rank only, have relinquished the emoluments of my commission, declaring myself, notwithstanding, ready at all times to obey the calls of the public. I do not expect to hear any of these, unless the state of our affairs should change for the worse; and lest, by any unforeseen accident that should happen, I choose to keep myself in a situation again to contribute my aid. This prevents a total resignation.
Truly, my dear Meade, I often regret that fortune has cast our residence at such a distance from each other. It would be a serious addition to my happiness if we lived where I could see you every day; but fate has determined it otherwise. I am a little hurried, and can only repeat, in addition, that you will present me most affectionately to Mrs. Meade, and believe me to be, with the warmest and most unalterable friendship,...
It must almost appear as if Hamilton was either unaware of Talleyrand's true character, or cultivated him because of his many agreeable qualities, for it cannot be denied that, despite his absolutely unpardonable immoralities, he had an extraordinary fascination. Then again, there was a sense of all that was humorous in all he did, whether in getting the best of dull-witted and pompous commissioners, or hoodwinking his less astute fellow conspirators. No one who has read his memoirs can help secretly admiring a certain intense mental force and cleverness, as well as a faculty for escaping from danger; but it must be confessed that it is often the same amusement and admiration that one feels after reading the story of Jonathan Wild, or those of the other heroes of the Newgate Calendar. Talleyrand came to America in 1794, after making himself so disagreeable in England that he was obliged to shift the scene of his activity to the United States, in which country the influence of the French Republic and the effrontery of Citizen Genet were being felt; thanks to the temporary co-operation of Thomas Jefferson; after a brief stay he returned to make fresh mischief with a new party in France.
PRINCE CHARLES MAURICE DE TALLEYRAND-PÉRIGORD
His stay in Philadelphia was characterized by conduct so scandalous as to shock Pontgibaud and his other countrymen, for his open immoralities and behavior with a woman of color (probably Madame Grand) led to much gossip. Nevertheless he took great interest in all public affairs of the new country, and was busy as well in scientific work, and by his eloquence and charm made many friends who were disposed to overlook his foibles. Hamilton, who always respected brains, became, in a way, attached to him. Talleyrand was an agreeable Lucifer, and it was he who said that no one who had not lived before 1789 in France had any idea of the "charm of life." He had known all the delightful great men and women of France and England in his day, and, therefore, was certainly a competent critic. He liked the young statesman and said of him, "Je considère Napoléon Fox et Hamilton comme les trois plus grands hommes de notre èpoque, et si je devais me prononcer entre les trois, je donnerais sans hésiter la première place à Hamilton. Il avait deviné l'Europe."
That he had, sometimes, a strong and more tender feeling is evinced by the inscription upon the back of the picture of Hamilton that he later returned, which was, "You were appreciated. He loved you and you loved him." Hamilton seems to have kept up his pleasant relations with Talleyrand until shortly before his death, for, on March 25, 1804, he wrote to the latter in regard to a cousin Alexander, who had been imprisoned in Paris, and who was then on parole, asking certain privileges for the latter.
The affection felt for him by the members of his wife's family appears everywhere in a great mass of correspondence now before me. One of his warmest admirers was his father-in-law, who was of middle age when the young soldier married his second daughter in 1780. He certainly supplied the qualities lacking in Hamilton's own father, and added to them the jealous pride of a rugged veteran. During the time Hamilton was thrown so much into contact with him at Morristown, and until the very end of his life, there was a delightful intimacy between them, both in the field and when they were engaged in the conduct of public affairs, which crops out in all of General Schuyler's letters. Hamilton's success was Schuyler's very own, and his disappointments were shared by the affectionate, proud old man, who took up the cudgels and berated Jefferson and all the others whenever he got a chance.
Hamilton's overwork brought its penalty, for, at times, his condition was such as to alarm his friends, yet he, as a rule, rarely succumbed. Nothing can be more solicitous than the following, written at a time when he was not only busily engaged in practising law, but organizing the new army, and effecting a number of far-reaching public reforms and improvements :
General Philip Schuyler to his daughter
Albany, February 1st, 1799.
My dearly beloved Eliza: I am deeply affected to learn that my beloved Hamilton is so much indisposed. Too great an application to business and too little bodily exercise have probably been the cause of his disorders, immersed as he is in business, and his mind constantly employed he will forget to take that exercise, and those precautions which are indispensable to his restoration. You must therefore, my Dear Child, order his horse every fair day, that he may ride out, and draw him as frequently from his closet as possible. Keep me advised my Dear Child continually of his state of health. If that should happily be true, try to prevail on him to quit the busy scene he is in, and to pay us a visit accompanied by you. The journey will be of service to him, and I shall experience the best of pleasures in embracing children so dear to me.
Embrace my Dear Hamilton and your children for me. All here unite in love to you, to him and them.
God bless you my Amiable
and Dear Child. Ever most
tenderly and affectionately Yours
Ph. Schuyler.
He wrote to his daughter in 1795, regarding his young son, who was an inmate of Hamilton's household, as follows: "I have urged him [Philip] to copy your amiable husband as where he will see sense, virtue and good manners combined, which will endear him to all."
Hamilton's sister-in-law Angelica, as has been said, was an active correspondent, and wrote upon every possible occasion. Shortly before the arrival of Talleyrand she sent die following letter from England to prepare for his reception:
Angelica Church to Elizabeth Hamilton
London, Feb. 4, '94.
I recommend to your most particular care and attention, my dear and kind Elisa, my friends. Messieurs de Tallyrand and de Beaumetz; make our country agreeable to them as far as it is in your power (and your influence is very extensive). Console them by your hospitality and the image of your domestic happiness and virtues, for all that they have suffered in the cause of moderate Liberty; and you will be gratified, my dear Eliza, by rendering them services when by so doing you are also prompting the requests of your own Angelica.
I have for these persons the most sincere friendship. To your care, dear Eliza I commit these interesting strangers, they are a loan I make you, till I return to America, not to reclaim my friends entirely, but to share their society with you and dear Alexander, the amiable.
Speak of these gentlemen as members of the Constituent Assembly, as friends of La Fayette, and of good government, and who left their country when anarchy and cruelty prevailed.
If I have any influence with Americans who have been in England, let them shew the sense they entertain of it, by receiving well my friends, whoever cultivates their intimacy will thank me for giving them such valuable acquaintances.
A few weeks later she wrote to Mrs. Hamilton:
Angelica Church to Elizabeth Hamilton
London, February 27, 1794.
Monsieur de Tallyrand being detained, my dear Eliza, a week longer than he expected has given me time to finish your handkerchief which may be worn either on the head or neck, the other two I beg you will send to Peggy and Cornelia.
It is an age since I have heard from you, pray write me news and tell me if I may hope for peace. Mr. Jefferson is said to be on his voyage to France. You will see by my last letter in how particular a manner I have requested your attention for my friend. I am sorry that you cannot speak French, or Mr. Talleyrand English, that you might converse with him, as he is extremely agreeable, and very much improves on acquaintance; he is of one of the most ancient families in France and has been a Bishop and possesses a large fortune and now obliged by the order of this court to leave England. I wish that they would oblige me to go to America for the time is not yet fixed. Adieu my dear sister.
Very affectionately yours,
A. Church.
Did Mrs. Bache send you a hat with purple ribband and a cap. I wish to know as she has not written me a line.
Angelica Church to Elizabeth Hamilton
London, July 30, 1794.
I have a letter my dear Eliza from my worthy friend M. de Talleyrand who expresses to me his gratitude for an introduction to you and my Amiable, by my Amiable you know that I mean your Husband, for I love him very much and if you were as generous as the old Romans, you would lend him to me for a little while, but do not be jealous, my dear Eliza, since I am more solicitous to promote his laudable ambition, than any person in the world, and there is no summit of true glory which I do not desire he may attain; provided always that he pleases to give me a little chit-chat, and sometimes to say, I wish our dear Angelica was here. Tallyrand and Beaumetz write in raptures to all their friends of your kindness, and Colonel Hamilton's abilities and manners, and I receive innumerable compliments on his and your account.
Ah! Bess! you were a lucky girl to get so clever and so good a companion.
Mr. Jay has been perfectly well received at Court and by the Ministers, as yet no material business is done. The people are anxious for a peace with America, and the allied armies are beat out of Flanders and on the Rhine. These circumstances may determine the Minister to be just and wise. Mr. Jay dined with Mr. Fox' at our house a few days after his arrival.
Mr. Morris is building a palace, do you think Monsieur l'Enfant would send me a drawing of it? Merely from curiosity, for one wishes to see the plan of a house which it is said, will cost, when furnished £40,000 Sterling.
This house was built by Robert Morris, in Philadelphia, after he had resigned his office and begun his land speculations. It was an enormous palace designed by Major l'Enfant, and was afterward known as "Morris's Folly." At the time it was begun Morris was regarded as the richest man in the United States, but through reckless plunging and speculation, lost all his money and was arrested and confined in the debtor's prison for several years. Through the grandiose and impractical plan of l'Enfant and the underestimation of the cost, Morris could not meet the demands upon him. His schemes were almost like those of an insane man, and he never occupied the gigantic building which was erected in a square bounded by Walnut and Chestnut, Seventh and Eighth Streets, for it was not finished. It is said that he even imported shiploads of costly furniture, one vessel bringing five thousand guineas' worth of mirrors. Much has been said about Hamilton's relations with Washington, and the absence of any deep friendship between the two, and Oliver has gone so far as to observe that in not one of the former's writings is there any eulogy or even marked praise of his great commander.
Sumner makes this same assertion, and brief excerpts of letters are reproduced, the impression being that there was a stiffness and coldness, not to say a formality in his correspondence with the former which indicated a lack of attachment, and no very great admiration.
These accusations I am sure are unjust, for in the letter to Mrs. Washington written after the death of the first President, there is much that is genuine, and in his letters to Washington during his lifetime he nearly always signed himself "Yours affectionately," in those that were personal. A great deal has been made of the circumstances attending Hamilton's resignation as a member of Washington's military family, and it must be conceded that the letters he wrote to his father-in-law. General Schuyler, and McHenry are not only in bad taste, but he makes use of certain expressions which voice his short-lived anger; this, however, must be set down to his extreme youth, and some of it to the fact that he had been more or less flattered and his head, for the time, turned. Like many other men, his subsequent conduct would almost look as if he had been ashamed of himself, for he plunged at once into more active military service, and performed an act of loyal devotion which he knew would be approved by his old commander when he made a brilliant assault upon the enemy's works at Yorktown. Before doing this he wrote to Washington as follows in 1781: "It has become necessary to me to apply to your Excellency to know in what manner you forsee you will be able to employ me in the ensuing campaign. I am ready to enter into activity whenever you think proper."
All of his subsequent relations with Washington were intimate and affectionate, and their private letters to each other show that they must have been so much in accord as to exclude any real coolness of feeling. Forgiving and generous as Washington always was, he probably felt little or no resentment toward Hamilton for his hasty action in parting from him in a manner more befitting a spoiled boy than a gallant and useful soldier, and he ever afterward relied upon his former aid, even to the extent of getting his assistance in the preparation of his Farewell Address.
It would hardly seem from the following that any of Hamilton's early resentment, and want of appreciation of Washington's kindness had survived.
Alexander Hamilton to Washington
New York, August 38, 1797.
My dear Sir: The receipt two days since of your letter of the 21 St instant gave me sincere pleasure. The token of your regard which it announces is very precious to me, and will always be remembered as it ought to be.
Mrs. Hamilton has lately added another boy to our stock; she and the child are both well. She desires to be affectionately remembered to Mrs. Washington and yourself.
We have nothing new here more than our papers contain, but are anxiously looking forward to a further development of the negotiations in Europe, with an ardent desire for general accommodation. It is at the same time agreeable to observe that the public mind is adopting more and more sentiments truly American, and free from foreign tincture.
I beg my best respects to Mrs. Washington.
James McHenry, Secretary of War during Adams's administration, was one of Hamilton's most loving friends. During the early operations of the army he saw a great deal of the latter, and there was much that was jocular and breezy in their conversation and correspondence. In after years this relation was more staid, but just as affectionate. In 1795, after Hamilton's retirement, McHenry wrote, "Though not writing I have not ceased to love you, nor for a moment felt any abatement of my friendship." At an earlier period, when Hamilton was but twenty-six, McHenry wrote, that if he were ten years older and twenty thousand pounds richer, he (Hamilton) might have the highest office in the gift of Congress, and added:
Cautious men think you sometimes intemperate, but seldom visionary. . . . Bold designs, measures calculated for their rapid execution—a wisdom that would convince from its own weight, a project that would surprise the people into greater happiness, without giving them an opportunity to view it and reject it—are not adapted to a council composed of discordant materials or to a people which have 13 heads, each of which pays superstitious adorations to inferior divinities.
Upon the occasion of a slight difference regarding the appointment of a candidate recommended by McHenry, the latter waited until Hamilton's retirement from office and wrote:
You see how well I have persevered in this determination, and that it is only now, when I can have nothing to expect, and nothing to give, that I recall you to the remembrance of our early union and friendship. It is during this period, my dear Hamilton, that you will find unequivocal instances of the disinterested friendship I feel for you and which ought to convince you, how well I am entided to a full return of yours. The tempest weathered and landed on the same shore, I may now congratulate you upon having established a system of credit and having conducted the affairs of our country upon principles and reasoning, which ought to insure its immortality, as it undoubtedly will your fame. Few public men have been so eminently fortunate, as voluntarily to leave so high a station with such a character and so well assured a reputation and still fewer have so well deserved the gratitude of their country and the eulogiums of history. Let this console you for past toils and pains, and reconcile you to humble pleasures and a private life. What remains for you, having ensured fame, but to ensure felicity. Look for It in the moderate pursuit of your profession, or if public life still flatters, in that office most congenial to it and which will not withdraw you from those literary objects that require no violent waste of spirits and those little plans that involve gender exercise and which you can drop or indulge In without injury to your family. I have built houses. I have cultivated fields. I have planned gardens. I have planted trees. I have written little essays. I have made poetry once a year to please my wife, at times got children and, at all times, thought myself happy. Why cannot you do the same? for after all, if a man is only to acquire fame or distinction by continued privations and abuse, I would incline to prefer a life of privacy and little pleasures.
Before the war McHenry studied medicine under Dr. Benjamin Rush, of Philadelphia, and entered the army as a surgeon, but it was not long before he gave up his calling and became an aide to General Washington. He certainly took an unusual interest in the health of his friend Hamilton, and prescribed for him. According to his biographer, this was about the last professional duty that he performed, and followed shortly after his transfer, as he had been made prisoner by the British. Some of the advice given by the Revolutionary doctor would not be out of place to-day, and the directions regarding his friend's very unromantic disorder are the following:
In order to get rid of some of your present accumulations, you will be pleased to take the pills agreeable to the directions; and to prevent future accumulations observe the following table of diet. This will have a tendency also to correct your wit. I would advise for your breakfast two cups of tea sweetened with brown sugar and colored with about a tea-spoonful of milk. I prefer brown sugar to loaf because it is more laxative. And I forbid the free use of milk until your stomach recovers its natural powers. At present you would feel less uneasiness in digesting a round of beef than a pint of milk.
You will not drink your tea Just as it comes out of the pot; let it have time to cool. The astringuency of the tea IS more than counter balanced by the relaxing quality of hot water.
For your dinner let me recommend about six ounces of beef or mutton, either boiled or roasted, with eight or ten ounces of bread. Cut the meat from the tenderest part with little or no fat. Use the natural juice, but no rancid oily gravy whatsoever. For some time I would prefer the beef, because it contains more of a natural animal stimulus than mutton. Once or twice a week, you may indulge in a thin slice of ham. Your best condiment will be salt.
You must not eat as many vegetables as you please—a load of vegetables is as hurtful as a load of any other food. Besides the absurdity of crowding in a heap of discordant vegetables with a large quantity of meat is too much of itself for the digestive powers. You may eat a few potatoes every day. Water is the most general solvent the kindliest and the best assistance in the process of digestion. I would therefore advise it for your table drink. When you indulge in wine let it be sparingly. Never go beyond three glasses—but by no means every day.
I strictly forbid all eatables which I do not mention, principally because a formula of diet for your case should be simple and short. Should this table be strictly observed, it will soon become of little use, because you will have recovered that degree of health which is compatable with the nature of your constitution. You will then be your own councellor in diet for the man who has had ten years experience in eating and its consequences is a fool if he does not know how to choose his dishes better than his Doctor.
But in case you should fall into a debauch—you must next day have recourse to the pills. I hope however that you will not have recourse to them often. The great Paracelsus trusted to his pills to destroy the effects of intemperance— but he died if I forget not about the age of 30 notwithstanding his pills. Lewis Cornare the Italian was wiser—he trusted to an egg, and I think lived to about ninety.
Hamilton's accounts show that he lived well, and that his bills for wine during the time he stayed in New York reached goodly proportions, but he probably did not exceed his friend's prescription for his life appears to have been well-regulated and comparatively abstemious. It would be gratifying to know whether he would have lived to a ripe old age had his life not been snuffed out by the bullet of Burr. His children were all examples of longevity, for several were over eighty when they succumbed to ordinary senile conditions, and two were more than ninety. This vitality, however, might have been influenced by their mother, who was ninety-seven when she died.
I have alluded to other friends, many of whom were identified with his later life. These included his own medical advisers, Doctors Samuel Bard and David Hosack, the former of whom brought several of his children, including the first Philip, into the world, and who continued to take care of Hamilton until the end of his life. He was the son of Dr. John Bard, who had been associated with Dr. Peter Middleton, who, in 1750, made the first dissection recorded in this country. He was a graduate of the University of Edinburgh, and began the practice of his profession in America in 1765. Dr. Hosack was present at the duel with Burr, and he and Dr. Post were with Hamilton when he died.
Among other intimates were Gouverneur Morris, Rufus King, Nicholas Fish, Egbert Benson, John Laurance, Brockholst Livingston, Richard Peters, Robert Troup, William Duer, Richard Varick, Oliver Wolcott, William Seton, Charles Wilkes, Matthew Clarkson, Richard Harrison, Elias Boudinot, Thomas Cooper, Caleb Gibbs, William Bayard, Timothy Pickering, and James Kent.
Some of these men were associated with him in the army, and during the years he was in Congress and in the Treasury, and others were constantly engaged at the same time in the courts. So closely were his professional and public life connected, that we find his correspondence filled with all manner of subjects, and it is common for letters to open with an appeal to him for legal aid, and to end widi some reference to politics.
Gouverneur Morris, it is quite evident, always entertained a grudge against Hamilton for his summing up and retort in the Le Guen case, for Morris appears to have been very vulnerable to sarcasm, as he was a conceited, though great, man. He, however, manifested much kindness of heart when allowed to manage other people's affairs, and was perfectly amiable and often went to great lengths to help others. He was about five years Hamilton's senior, was licensed to practise law, and had much to do with the conduct of the financial affairs of the country, and the preparation and framing of the Constitution.
Rufus King, who was the first person in the United States to seriously advocate the abolition of slavery, proposed, in 1785, an act of Congress for that purpose. Negro slavery, however, seems to have been quite general, and it was not until 1799 that there was special legislation in New York, which made all children free that were born in that State after July of that year, though they were to remain with the owner, the men till they were twenty-eight years and the women till they were twenty-five. It has been stated that Hamilton never owned a negro slave, but this is untrue. We find that in his books there are entries showing that he purchased them for himself and for others.
Rufus King and General Schuyler were representatives of New York in the national Senate in 1789. Under the new Constitution King was also American Minister to Great Britain, from 1798-1814, and again, for a short time, in 1825, and both Schuyler and Hamilton relied upon him as an able and powerful Federalist.
Egbert Benson, the first Attorney-General for the State of New York, was a remarkably clear-headed lawyer. He had been previously a member of the Committee of Safety, and later was one of the three commissioners who were to supervise the emigration of Tories from New York to Nova Scotia, and was concerned in fixing the boundary line between the United States and British territory.
He was looked upon as an important person, and with Hamilton settled many disputed points during the post-Revolutionary period. David Howell wrote from Halifax, August 31, 1796, to Hamilton:
Sir: Col. Barclay and myself after 7 or 8 days canvassing have agreed upon the Hon. Egbert Benson of New York as 3rd Commiss.
As he is your friend as well as ours, let me request your influence with him to accept this appointment. We shall never agree with any other person. The alternative is not very promising nor likely to prove satisfactory to either country.
I hope your State will suspend their claims on Mr. Benson only for a few weeks this fall—the cause. Col. Barclay and myself have agreed shall be tried in the City of N. York.
As you delight in doing public services, I assure myself of your attention to the object of this letter. I need only add that when I parted with you, I requested you to consult Mr. Benson and to write me whether he would accept or not, and that from your silence I had some reason to hope he would accept.
With great esteem and in haste,
I am Your
Very obt. Sert.
Hon. A, Hamilton.
David Howell.
The Henry Barclay referred to in Howell's letter graduated at King's College, and studied law under John Jay, and was a son of the Rector of Trinity Church before the Revolution, but sided with the British, and after the war escaped, with his family, to Nova Scotia. After Jay's treaty, he was appointed one of the Commissioners in behalf of Great Britain.
Benson was in the Continental Congress from 1789-1794, and in the new Congress from 1789-1793, and from 1813-1815. He was judge of the New York Supreme Court, and of the United States Circuit Court, from 1794-1801.
John Laurance, who had been an aide to Washington, was in Congress and a State senator as well for many years. He was also a judge of the United States District Court of New York, from 1794-1796, and afterward of the Supreme Court of the United States from 1796-1800.
Brockholst Livingston had been on General Schuyler's staff, after Jay's mission to the Spanish Court, whither he also went, became a prominent lawyer and ultimately judge of the Supreme Court of New York. He, too, frequently appeared with Hamilton in court, and usually on the same side. Both he and Jonathan Dayton went to school with Hamilton at Elizabethtown.
The witty Richard Peters, after a long and honorable service in the army, and after winning distinction as an admiralty lawyer, became United States District Judge of the Pennsylvania Court from 1789 until his death. He was a curious, inventive genius, and dabbled to some extent in chemistry. He it was who introduced gypsum for agricultural purposes, and the writer is in possession of a letter containing his suggestion for the manufacture of india ink from lamp-black. His intercourse with Hamilton was most intimate, and as he was a great deal of a farceur, his letters are filled with evidence of this spirit.
Pickering, who was Secretary of State from 1795-1800, took an active part in the obstinate fight of the Federalists against Burr, and espoused Hamilton's side in his difference with Adams.
Oliver Wolcott was with Hamilton at the time of his death, and his two pathetic letters to his wife, describing the events, are published elsewhere. He took an active part in national affairs, and especially in those of Connecticut, his native State, where he was lieutenant-governor for ten years. Hamilton always turned to him in his political troubles, and he was sympathetic, and resourceful in his advice.
Robert Troup, who graduated at King's College at about the time Hamilton entered, seems to have been the fidus Achates latter, and many were the actions in which they were associated, Hamilton usually being the counsel. There was probably no more attached friend than Troup, and he was always ready to champion the cause of Hamilton, who was exactly his own age. Troup was made a judge of the United States Circuit Court of New York, and had much to do with the land affairs of the great Pulteney estate, the territory which was purchased from Robert Morris, who afterward had reason to regret the sale.
William Duer was Assistant Secretary of the Treasury under Hamilton, and had been Secretary of the Financial Board under Robert Morris. He, too, had been actively engaged in public affairs, and was one of the committee who drafted the first constitution of the State of New York. He married Lady Kitty, daughter of Lord Stirling, in 1779, when he was an army officer at Morristown, and was very intimate with Hamilton and his other friends. Duer, like many others, later not only became involved in unfortunate speculations but gambled with die public funds. This led to his ruin and incarceration by his creditors. From all accounts he appears always to have been a lovable man and, notwithstanding his irregularities, was the recipient of much sympathy. His downfall was a sad one, and his treatment of Pintard, a young broker who trusted him and was ruined thereby, was highly discreditable to Duer. After his failure he was immediately sued by a number of angry people.
When he attempted to make restitution, it was found that his bank stock could not be converted into cash, and his land could not be disposed of because of the panicky nature of the times. Hamilton had done his best to help him get financial assistance from Mr. Willing, the banker of Philadelphia, but the latter replied that he could do nothing. The crash came, and in his distress Duer wrote to Hamilton:
William Duer to Alexander Hamilton
New York, March 18th, 1793.
My dear Friend: I find by a letter from Col'l. Wadsworth that news has arrived there of my having suspended payment. The fact is that I have been compelled to do it, with Respect to a certain Description of Notes, which were issued by my agent during my absence from this City—the Circumstances are too long and too painful to detail—: You shall know them on my arrival in Phila. for which Place I will certainly set off to-morrow—: Col'l. Wadsworth writes me that unless I arrive this day—a suit will Certainly be brought against me.
For Heavens Sake! Use for once your Influence to defer this till my arrival—when it will not be necessary—My Public Transactions are not blended with my private affairs. Every Farthing will be Immediately accounted for. Of this I pledge my Honor. If a suit should be brought on the Part of the Public,—under my present distrest Circumstances—my Ruin is complete. I despatch this by Express—in order that this step may not be taken—if it is I am sure that those who pursue this Measure will in a short time lament the Consequences.
I am your affectionate but distrest
Friend
W. DUER.
Hamilton devoted himself to the cause of his old comrade, and wrote to one of the creditors the following letter:
Alexander Hamilton to _______ _______
Dear Sir: Poor Duer has now had a long and severe confinement such as would be adequate punishment for no trifling crime. I am well aware of all the blame to which he is liable, and do not mean to be his apologist, though I believe he has been as much the dupe of his own imagination as others have been the victims of his projects. But what then? He is a man—he is a man with whom we have both been in habits of friendly intimacy. He is a man who, with a great deal of good zeal, in critical times, rendered valuable services to the country. He is a husband who has a most worthy and amiable wife, perishing with chagrin at his situation,— your relative and mine. He is a father, who has a number of fine children, destitute of the means of education and support, every way in need of his future exertions. These are tides to sympathy which I shall be mistaken if you do not feel. You are his creditor, your example may influence others. He wants permission through a letter of license, freely to breathe the air for five years.
Your signature to the inclosed draft of one, vdll give me much pleasure.
Your ob't Serv't,
A. Hamilton.
It was at the house of William Bayard that Hamilton died, for he and his family had always been intimate friends of the former. Bayard was a member of the firm of Bayard, LeRoy & McEvers, and had long been a client of Hamilton. Charles Wilkes was the president of the Bank of New York, for which Hamilton acted as counsel, and after the death of the latter Wilkes was one of those who made provision for his family.
It is somewhat surprising to find that the early friendship that existed between Hamilton and Edward Stevens led to no greater intimacy in later life. Stevens was one of the few friends who did not particularly distinguish himself, and about whom little is heard. He grew up to be a worthy doctor, but was a negative character, and his sole public service was rendered in a consulship to Hayti. The letters that passed between the two were of the most formal character, and there is no display of extraordinary interest in any of them, despite the promising beginning.
During Hamilton's attachment to Washington's staff he was thrown much into contact with Caleb Gibbs, who was not only the commander of the Life Guard of Washington, but in a way was major domo of the President's household, where he remained in command until the end of 1779. In this connection reference may be made to the troubles of the latter.
Chastellux, in speaking of his visit to Boston, refers to one John Tracy, who had strange vicissitudes of fortune in the early part of the war. At the end of 1777 he and his brother, who held letters of marque, had lost forty-one ships and were about to give up business, when a prize entered Boston Harbor which was worth about £35,000 sterling. With this windfall their fortunes changed, so that at the time of the visit of the Frenchman John Tracy was worth £120,000. He gave £5,000 to the State of Massachusetts, but his revenues were subsequently greatly diminished, and his taxes amounted to £6,000 a year—an enormous sum.
It is quite probable that the tide of his good fortune ultimately changed, for the following letter would show that he lost, not only his own money, but that of others, among them the funds of Gibbs who wrote to Hamilton, who had evidently befriended him and given him legal advice.
Barre, May 16th, 1791.
My best friend: I have been honored by your much esteemed favour of the 20th ulto.
With the most pungent grief did I read your letter respecting Mr. Tracys affairs; it is too much for me to relate. Nay My good Hamilton (excuse the freedom) it fairly unnerved me, and what is still more affecting to me to see my amiable wife looking over the letter and exclaiming "it is possible, is it possible Mr. Gibbs that you have lost that hard earned money you friendly lent that wicked man"—indeed my friend it was too much for her to bear, and more particularly so considering her situation; we have been almost ever since in a state of dispair—for I have all along held up to her the Idea, that there was hopes of recovering my property more especially as we thought it was in your hands—but now forever lost—not only so but good money which I borrowed of you to bear my expenses thrown away in pursuit of what he owes me, and God only knows when I shall be able to pay you.
Pray for God's sake my friend speak to the President for me,—the Surveyorship of the Port of Boston is now vacant, cannot you befriend me—Every one who knows (& I know you do) that the great economy used in the Expenditures of the General's family was in a very great degree owing to me —Speak peace to me, drop but one drop of the balm of Comfort & Consolation. If I am worthy of another line from you give me it as a Comforter.
I pray God to preserve you & believe me yours
devotedly C. Gibbs.
Something has been said of Hamilton's difficulties, and the manner in which he contrived to bring upon his own head the wrath of many persons with whom he was officially thrown into contact. Political differences were even more bitter than to-day, and as has been shown in a previous chapter, scurrilous abuse was quite as pungent and intolerable.
Summer says: "One of his most remarkable traits contrasting in the strongest manner with his contemporaries, was his fearlessness of responsibility. If he went upon that principle, he was sure to bear the brunt of every contest, provoked by his enterprises; and as he was always in the advance of other people, he was sure to excite their wonder, doubt and suspicion by his enterprises."
"Hamilton's methods were calculated to raise against himself very bitter opposition. He forced every issue in its most direct form. His fearlessness, openness, and directness turned rivals into enemies, irritated smaller men, and aroused their malicious desire to pull him down. At the same time, by the mass he was not understood, and in them he inspired a vague sense of alienation and distrust."
Some of this was because, as he once announced, he held popular opinion of no value-which is all in a way very true, but, as has been said, "It may have no value, but a statesman must notice that it has power."
This feeling caused him many a bitter moment, and upon various occasions he was quick to recognize the dissatisfaction which attended the disintegration of his own party, and the secession of those who did not approve of his vigorous methods. The attacks upon him were, perhaps, more bitter from the time he retired from public office until his death than at any other, and the various projects which he believed could be successfully carried out were assailed on all sides.
Madison, who had been his coadjutor in the preparation of the Federalist, he believed to have turned against him, and so stated in a letter to Carrington in 1792. Jefferson was always jealous and inimical, and lost no chance either secretly or openly to try to undermine his popular rival, although he was forced to admit the latter's greatness. His objection to the funding system and the establishment of the bank was very decided and was carried out with the assistance of Freneau, the -editor of a newspaper to which reference has been made.
Hamilton seems to have been in a constant broil with many of these people, and it is a wonder how he could have kept his peace of mind and self-control, smarting as he did under the assaults, not only of Jefferson, but even of Thomas Paine, whose methods were those that had, in 1793, found so much favor with the violent National Convention. So bitter was the fight between Hamilton and Jefferson, and so far-reaching the possibilities of public demoralization, that Washington was obliged to make peace between the two, although his sympathies were clearly with Hamilton. It would seem as if there was no limit to the abuse poured out by Callendar, Bache, and his colleagues, they being egged on by Jefferson, and this led to a celebrated libel suit in which Hamilton appeared (the Croswell case), and was, in measure, based upon the outrageous abuse of Washington.
General Schuyler wrote from Albany August 19, 1802, to Hamilton: "If Mr. Jefferson has really encouraged that wretch Callendar to vent his calumny against you and his predecessors in office, the head of the former must be abominably wicked and weak. I feel for the reputation of my Country which must suffer, when its citizens can be brought to elevate such a character to the first office of the republic. May indulgent heaven avert the evil with which we are threatened from such a ruler and the miscreants who guide his councils. Adieu My Dear Sir. May you enjoy health and happiness and that peace of mind which results from a rectitude of conduct."
John Adams, on one occasion, spoke of Hamilton as "die bastard brat of a Scotch pedlar," and accused him of any amount of vile things. Callendar even intimated that Hamilton regretted that the insurgents (during the Whiskey Rebellion) did not bum Pittsburg in 1794, and called him Caligula and Alva, and spread the often-repeated story that seemed to have been the chief stock in trade of his many calumniators that he was constantly attempting the establishment of a monarchy.
One of Hamilton's most venomous opponents was William Maclay, who was a United States senator from Pennsylvania between 1789-1791. At an early stage of his political career he broke with the Federalists, and never ceased, thereafter, to speak of them all in a contemptuous manner. None were free from his shafts, and his unexpurgated journal has no equal as a vituperative masterpiece. His only friend for a time seems to have been Robert Morris, but later he turned upon him. He spoke of Hamilton and others at a dinner he attended, as follows: "I could not help making some remarks on our three Secretaries—Hamilton has a very boyish giddy manner, and Scotch-Irish people would call him a 'skite', JefFerson transgresses on the extreme of stifF gentility or lofty gravity. Knox is the easiest man, and has the most dignity of presence. They retired at a decent time, one after another. Knox stayed longest, as indeed suited his aspect best, being more of a Bacchanalian figure."
Hamilton is accused, by him, of all manner of corruption, and even of knowingly issuing Treasury certificates which were counterfeit. He referred constantly to Hamilton's "tools," whom he also calls "Senatorial Gladiators," and of his use of Washington as " scapegoat." The "Cincinnati" was one of his machines. Much of his enmity is of the usual kind, so characteristic of the day, as, in referring to his own efforts to get the Senate to repudiate the indebtedness of the country to foreign officers who had fought in the Revolution, "I set myself to defeat it, and happily succeeded," he said. " The consequence is, that I have all the Secretary's [Hamilton's] gladiators upon me. I have already offended Knox and all his military arrangements; I have drowned Jefferson's regards in the Potomac. Hamilton, with his host of speculators, is upon me, and they are not idle; the City hates me, and I have offended Morris, and my place must go. My peace of mind, however, shall not go, and, like a dying man, I will endeavor that my last moments be well spent." The reference to the "host of speculators" is an assumption that Hamilton's friends had bought up the claims of the French officers who had fought during the Revolution.
In 1776 General Charles Lee was guilty of treacherous disobedience in refusing to re-enforce Washington, who had ordered him to make a junction with him at Hackensack. His idea was clearly to embarrass and put Washington in a false position, and to profit by his failure to prevent the British from taking Philadelphia. Not only was Lee guilty of rank insubordination, but he wrote to the Commander-in Chief two disrespectful and insolent letters. This led to his arrest and court-martial, and he was sentenced to suspension from the army for one year. Hamilton and the other supporters of Washington were, naturally, highly indignant, and the former gave very damaging testimony at the trial. Major J. S. Eustace, one of Lee's strong friends and supporters, and a vulgar and hot-headed officer, emptied his vials of abuse in various letters to his discredited friend, and did his best to provoke Hamilton to fight a duel. Extracts from two of his letters may be produced which show the hatred felt not only by this man, but by others. Writing from Philadelphia, November 29, to Lee he says:
I met Hambleton [sic] the other day in Company with the favorite Green the Drunkard Stirling' and their class of attendants. He advanced toward me on my entering the room with presented hand. I took no notice of his polite intention, but sat down without bowing to him or any of the class (it happened at the Q'. M'. General's office at Morris-town) he then asked me if I was come from Camp—I say'd shortly Not without the usual application of sir, rose from my chair—left the room, and him standing before the chair, I could not treat him much more rudely—I've repeated my suspicions of his veracity on the tryall so often that I expect the s---- of a b---- will challenge me when he comes. If he does he will find me as unconcerned as he can possibly be anxious.
And again he wrote to Lee:
I speak of you here openly and loyally, and I give my sentiments of your affairs, with all the warmth of a young man—tho' without the prudence of an old one. I said 'tother night I thought Colonel Hamilton was perjured—that I could convince himself of IT, by reading over the Tryall to him—and if that was not sufficient evidently it might rest on matter of opinion, and he decided as he chose, there were several officers present but they said nothing in reply—tho' I am confident they'll tell him & I've no objections.
The involuntary praise of some of his most important antagonists was the greatest tribute. Jefferson called him the "Colossus of the Federalists," and upon one occasion, when Hamilton had written articles for Fenno's paper signed Marcellus, he wrote to Madison, informing him by whom they were produced, with the remark that they promised "much mischief Madison was urged to exert himself against" this champion. You know the ingenuity of his talents, and there is not a person but yourself who can foil him. For Heaven's sake then, take up your pen and do not desert the public cause altogether."
Much criticism has been indulged in, by those inimical to Hamilton, regarding a letter written by Hamilton to Gouverneur Morris on July 27, 1802, shortly after the movement had been started to impeach several of the circuit judges by the anti-Federalists. This was at a time when the scurrilous sheets were filled with abuse of the opponents of Burr and Jefferson, and when Hamilton was well-nigh distracted by the machinations of the Democrats in his own State. "Mine is an odd destiny," he said; "perhaps no man in the United-States has sacrificed or done more for the present constitution than myself; and contrary to all my anticipations of its fate, as you know from the very beginning, I am still laboring to prop the frail and worthless fabric, yet I have the murmurs of its friends no less than the curses of its foes for my reward. What can I do better than withdraw from the scene? Every day proves to me more and more diat this American world was not made for me. As a rule his enemies ignore and neglect to quote a later paragraph which is as follows: "The time may ere long arrive when the minds of men will be prepared to make an effort to recover the Constitution, but the many cannot now be brought to make a stand for its preservation. We must wait a while." This is almost prophetic when we consider the re-establishment of national faith in this great instrument which followed the disorderly reign of Jefferson and his followers, down to a time when civil strife led to a new order of dignity and unswerving devotion to the original laws of our national organization.