Jefferson and Hamilton

by John Ferling

  This book about Jefferson and Hamilton explores what shaped the thinking and behavior of each man. It inquires into their activities during the American Revolution and the war that accompanied it, their hopes for the new American nation, and the political warfare that each waged against the ideas of the other. But the book is about more than ideology and political confrontations. It aims to discover what shaped these men’s temperament, to understand the character of each, and to explain the role of character in the choices that each made. It also seeks to answer not only what made each a leader but also how each met the hard tests of leadership. Finally, the book seeks to peel away their public personae to discover the private sides of Jefferson and Hamilton.

  When I began this book some three years ago, I held Jefferson in higher esteem than I did Hamilton. I had not always had such a high opinion of Jefferson, but I had grown more positive toward him in the course of working on several books on the early Republic. My admiration grew as I followed the thread of his social and political thought through decade after decade. I wasn’t surprised by that, but what I did find a bit startling was that I grew far more appreciative of Hamilton. I saw much that was noble in his sacrifices and valor as a soldier, much that was praiseworthy in his political and polemical skills, and much that was especially laudable in his vision for the nation and the nation’s economy.

  As I was beginning this project, Don Wagner, a political scientist and longtime friend, remarked to me that it would not be easy to get inside the heads of Jefferson and Hamilton. “Men like that think differently than you and me,” Don said. He was correct. It was never easy, but the challenge to come to grips with men of such soaring ambition and legendary objectives, men who played for the highest stakes, made working on the book all the more exciting.

  Another challenge was that Jefferson and Hamilton lived in a strikingly different period. I have sought to understand each man in the context of the time in which he lived and acted. Intriguingly, however, I found much that was surprisingly familiar, especially the ways of politics and politicians, not to mention the attraction of power and what some will do to acquire it, and keep it.

  As this book took shape, I realized how much my life and thought had been shaped by Jefferson and Hamilton. My maternal ancestors had followed Jefferson’s dream, one generation after another marching westward through Virginia, into Pennsylvania, and finally just across the border into West Virginia, always owning their farms and carving out for themselves the very sort of independent life that Jefferson had cherished. A third of the way into the twentieth century, my grandfather’s children—including my mother—received college educations. The Ferling side of my family, which arrived in America only in the 1870s, faced a hardscrabble future, but they made their way along the path prepared by Hamilton, working in industry. My father, the son of a glass cutter, was a hard hat who worked for a large petrochemical company. I was a member of the fourth generation of the paternal side of my family in America, and the first to attend college. In the course of writing this book, I came to think that the educational opportunities that had fallen into my lap—and the laps of a great many others like me—was one of the things that Hamilton envisaged in his plans for the American economy.

  A word about the book’s mechanics. First, the numbered endnotes are preceded by a list of secondary sources that were especially valuable and pertinent. See the Select Bibliography—and also the “Abbreviations” section—for the full citation of each of these works. These particular sources are not otherwise cited in the numbered notes unless the author is quoted. Unfortunately, these lists of helpful secondary works do not include Jon Meacham’s Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power (New York, 2012), an insightful biography that appeared a few weeks after the submission of this manuscript.

  Second, in the hope of conveying as much as possible about my subjects, I have preserved the original spelling in quotations from Jefferson’s and Hamilton’s writings.

  Debts accumulate in the course of writing any book. I am particularly grateful to Matt deLesdernier and James Sefcik for reading the manuscript, pointing out errors, and offering guidance. Four good friends, Edith Gelles, Michael deNie, Keith Pacholl, and Arthur Lefkowitz, answered many questions that I posed. Lorene Flanders, who has graciously supported my research and writing, provided an office that I used daily while working on the book. Angela Mehaffey and Margot Davis in the Interlibrary Loan Office of the Irvine Sullivan Ingram Library at the University of West Georgia graciously met my frequent requests for books and articles, and Gail Smith in Acquisitions saw to the purchase of some items that were important to my work. Charlie Sicignano helped with the accession of digital copies of newspapers. Elmira Eidson and Julie Dobbs helped me out of numerous scrapes with my computer and word processing program. I owe so many debts of gratitude to Catherine Hendricks that to list them would double the length of this book.

  Pete Beatty helped in many ways to bring the book to completion, all the while listening to my tales of woe about the Pittsburgh Pirates. This is my second book with Maureen Klier, who has no equal as a copyeditor, and my first with Nikki Baldauf, an excellent production editor. Geri Thoma, my literary agent, played a crucial role in the conceptualization and conception of this book. This is my seventh book with Peter Ginna, a masterful editor who, along with criticism, provides encouragement and a storehouse of wonderful ideas.

  I don’t think Sammy Grace, Simon, Katie, and Clementine care much one way or another about Thomas Jefferson or Alexander Hamilton, but they enrich my life, which makes the often-trying work of writing a book a bit easier.

  And there is Carol, my wife, who has always been supportive of my writing, not to mention understanding and patient.

  Chronology

  1743 (April 13)

  Birth of Thomas Jefferson

  1755 (January 11)

  Birth of Alexander Hamilton

  1757 (Summer)

  Death of TJ’s father, Peter Jefferson

  1760–62

  TJ studies at the College of William and Mary

  1766 (?)

  James Hamilton deserts his family

  1767 (February 12)

  TJ begins his legal practice

  1768 (?)

  Death of AH’s mother, Rachel Levien

  1769 (May 1769)

  TJ enters the House of Burgesses

  1772 (January 1)

  TJ marries Martha Wayles Skelton

  1772 (?)

  AH sails for New York

  1773–75

  AH studies at King’s College

  1774 (December)

  Publication of TJ’s A Summary View

  1774–75 (Dec– Jan)

  Publication of AH’s A Full Vindication and The Farmer Refuted

  1775 (April 19)

  Beginning of the Revolutionary War

  1775 (June 20)

  TJ enters the Continental Congress

  1776 (March)

  AH is appointed captain of a volunteer artillery company

  1776 (March 31)

  Death of TJ’s mother, Jane Randolph Jefferson

  1776 (June 11–28)

  TJ drafts the Declaration of Independence

  1776 (September)

  TJ leaves Congress and reenters the House of Burgesses

  1776–77 (August–January)

  AH sees action in New York, Trenton, and Princeton

  1777 (September–October)

  AH in combat in the Battles of Brandywine and Germantown

  1778 (January–May)

  AH at Valley Forge encampment

  1778 (June 28)

  AH in combat in the Battle of Monmouth

  1779 (June 1)

  TJ is elected governor of Virginia

  1780 (June 2)

  TJ elected to a second term as governor

  1780 (December 14)

  AH marries Elizabeth Schuyler

  1780–81 (December 31–January 6)

  Benedict Arnold raids Virgin
ia and sacks Richmond

  1781 (June 4)

  TJ flees from British soldiers at Monticello

  1781 (October 14)

  AH leads attack on Redoubt No. 10 at Yorktown

  1782 (September 6)

  Death of TJ’s wife, Martha

  1782 (November 25)

  AH enters the Confederation Congress

  1783 (January–March)

  AH is involved in the Newburgh Conspiracy

  1783 (November 25)

  TJ enters the Confederation Congress

  1784 (August 6)

  TJ arrives in Paris as a U.S. diplomat

  1786 (March 11)

  TJ conducts diplomacy and visits John and Abigail Adams in England

  1786 (April)

  AH is elected to the New York Assembly

  1786 (August or September)

  TJ meets Maria Cosway

  1786 (September)

  AH attends the Annapolis Convention

  1787 (May–Sept)

  AH intermittently attends Constitutional Convention

  1787 (July)

  Sally Hemings arrives in Paris

  1787 (October–December)

  TJ and Maria Cosway are together for the final time in Paris

  1789 (September)

  AH becomes Treasury secretary

  1789 (October 22)

  TJ’s family, together with Sally and James Hemings, sail for Virginia

  1790 (January 14)

  AH submits his Report on the Public Credit

  1790 (February 14)

  TJ accepts appointment as secretary of state

  1790 (July)

  Congress approves funding, assumption, and the Residence Act

  1790 (December 13)

  AH proposes an excise on spirits and the creation of a national bank

  1791 (February)

  AH and TJ clash on constitutionality of the bank; GW signs the bill

  1791 (May 17–June 19)

  TJ and James Madison undertake the “botanizing tour”

  1791 (June)

  AH begins affair with Maria Reynolds

  1791 (October)

  The National Gazette begins publication

  1792 (December)

  Frederick Muhlenberg, James Monroe, and Abraham Venable absolve AH of illegal conduct

  1793 (April 22)

  Washington proclaims American neutrality

  1793 (September 5)

  AH falls ill with yellow fever

  1793 (December 31)

  TJ resigns as secretary of state

  1794 (October 4)

  AH joins the army to suppress the Whiskey Rebellion in Pennsylvania

  1795 (January 31)

  AH resigns as secretary of the treasury

  1795 (July)

  AH speaks and writes in defense of the Jay Treaty

  1796 (May 16–July 5)

  AH drafts Washington’s Farewell Address

  1796 (December)

  TJ is elected vice president of the United States

  1797 (May)

  Adams appoints three commissioners to negotiate with France

  1798 (March–April)

  Adams and Congress learn of the XYZ Affair

  1798 (June 18–July 14)

  Congress enacts the Alien and Sedition Acts

  1798 (July 18)

  Adams nominates AH to be inspector general of the new army

  1800 (May 5–10)

  Adams dismisses James McHenry and Timothy Pickering from his cabinet

  1800 (October 24)

  Publication of AH’s Letter … Concerning … Character of John Adams

  1801 (February 11–17)

  The House decides the election of 1800

  1801 (March 4)

  TJ’s inauguration as president of the United States

  1804 (July 11–12)

  AH’s duel with Aaron Burr and death on the following day

  1809 (March 11)

  TJ retires to Monticello following second term as president

  1826 (July 4)

  Death of TJ (and John Adams)

  Prologue

  In the last days of November 1783 the British army in New York sullenly marched through the streets of Manhattan to waiting troop transports. Only a few thousand British regulars remained, some of them Americans, black and white, who had chosen to fight for the king, not for the United States. The soldiers, for the most part clad in resplendent red-and-white uniforms, did not appear to be part of a defeated army. But they were.

  Slowly, inexorably, the army moved toward New York’s harbor. Few New Yorkers lined the streets to watch, but the rhythmic sound of marching men, the clattering of horses on cobblestones, the stolid rattle and creaking of heavy artillery reverberated through nearby neighborhoods. At dockside, the men, burdened with equipment, struggled up steep gangplanks and onto vessels of the Royal Navy. Late in the day, as the sun sank in the western sky, the fleet sailed away from America and once it did, there could be no question that the War of Independence had finally come to an end.

  A month after the departure of the enemy soldiers, General George Washington returned to Virginia, arriving at Mount Vernon on Christmas Eve in the final moments of a winter’s twilight. No one had ever been happier to retire. He told acquaintances how thankful he was to be “eased of a load of public care,” and of his eagerness to sit “under the shadow of my own Vine & my own Fig tree, free from the bustles of a camp and the busy scenes of public life.” At last, he was free of the burden of making life-and-death decisions and of carrying the responsibility of the struggle to win American independence.1

  Washington was sincere in his repeated insistence of wishing to live at home in peace. He had commanded the Continental army for eight trying years, and in the end he had gained victory and an iconic status. He was happy. He was with his wife, Martha, and overjoyed by the frequent visits of his four step-grandchildren, youngsters who ranged in age from three to seven and who frolicked loudly both indoors and on the emerald green lawns that splayed outward on every side of the mansion. Nothing gave him greater pleasure than his beloved estate. He was filled with plans for landscaping and gardening and with ideas for furnishing the mansion, which had been expanded during his long wartime absence. When he first arrived home, Washington rode about the estate daily, not on business, but just to savor surroundings that he found so soul stirring.

  Washington was proud of what he had achieved, and he enjoyed the acclaim of his countrymen. He told numerous correspondents that he was home to stay, that he planned to spend the time allotted him gliding “gently down the stream of life, until I sleep with my Fathers.” He never again wished to face the “watchful days & sleepless Nights” that were the lot of a military commander, nor did he ever again want to face trials “in pursuit of fame.” It was especially nice, he said, not to have young officers circling about him hopeful “of catching a gracious smile.”2

  The United States had won the war and gained its independence, though Washington was all too aware that the young nation faced problems, mostly from what he called a “deranged” economy. Even so, he radiated optimism when he came home from the war. Yes, affairs were “unsettled,” but he was convinced that the “good sense of the People” would steer the new republic toward “order & sound policy.”3 Initially, Washington was more concerned, and preoccupied, with his own troubled business affairs, which had suffered egregiously from his lengthy wartime absence.4

  Washington’s concern about the troubled financial health of the United States had crystallized during the war. Since at least the midpoint of the conflict he had urged reforms, particularly strengthening the powers of the national government so that it could raise revenue and regulate commerce. Washington’s principal concern was national security—the new nation’s ability to protect itself from foreign predators and to resolve pressing domestic issues before the Union imploded. An enervated United States could not forever “exist as an Independent Power.” To survive,
to gain respectability, what was required was self-evident: The United States must have a national government possessed of “a Supreme Power to regulate and govern the general concerns of the Confederated Republic.”5

  Washington had returned to Mount Vernon expecting the nation’s problems to be swiftly resolved. When reforms had not occurred by the mid-1780s, he too expressed alarm. The United States was “tottering,” he said. He knew that republican governments seldom moved in haste, and he worried that a cure might not be found in time. All that he knew for certain was that “something must be done, or the fabrick must fall.”6

  Others shared Washington’s sense of a gathering crisis, though where he worried principally about national security, they were often troubled by other concerns. Creditors wrung their hands over the worthless paper money. Debtors feared foreclosure, not to mention debtors’ prison. Nearly everyone groaned under an extraordinary burden of taxation, as governments sought to continue functioning while they at the very least paid the interest on their wartime debts. Commerce languished, causing misery and apprehension. Some merchants had suffered since before the war. Many workers were out of work or feared losing their jobs. After years of sacrifice, even deprivation, many urban artisans and shopkeepers, and not a few farmers, faced an austere life.