Nicholas told Bayard that he believed Jefferson would comply. But he qualified that he did not speak for Jefferson. Because Bayard did not receive the assurance he wanted, he turned next to Samuel Smith. Smith, the self-anointed middleman, said he would talk to Jefferson. He did, and then approached Bayard on Monday morning, February 16, with the following: Jefferson had “authorized” him to agree to Bayard’s terms. Later, Smith denied he had ever used the word “authorized.” But Bayard came away from their conversation without any further doubts, and he delivered the presidency to Jefferson. He did not act alone, for after Bayard agreed to withhold his decisive vote, other delegations followed suit. Maryland and Vermont Federalists withheld their votes, which enabled their Republican members to vote in Jefferson. The South Carolina delegation, like Delaware’s, abstained because it contained only Federalists. Thus, Jefferson carried ten of the sixteen state delegations, Burr four, with the two abstentions. After thirty-six ballots, on Tuesday, February 17, the long contest was over. In downtown Philadelphia, Republicans paraded in a sled, playing fifes and drums, and hoisting flags featuring mottos: “Jefferson the friend of the People” and “Jefferson and Burr.”125
Four days after Jefferson was inaugurated, James Bayard wrote a letter to Alexander Hamilton, admitting why he had acted as he had: “The means existed of electing Burr, but they required his cooperation. . . . He might have secured a majority of the states. He will never have another chance of being President.” Even more tellingly, to the collector of customs in Wilmington, Delaware, whose job he was trying to preserve, Bayard wrote: “Our opposition [to Jefferson] was continued till it was demonstrated that Burr could not be brought in and even if he could, he meant to come in as a Democrat.” And to his father-in-law, Bayard had complained that Burr actually worked to stop the Federalists: “We have been counteracted in the whole business by letters he had written.” So much for trying to influence the mind of Aaron Burr.126
“Aaron Burr!” Widely distributed Federalist handbill that slanderously attacks Burr for his sexual behavior in 1801
Chapter Seven
THE RUIN OF THE VICE PRESIDENT
I wish the Republicans throughout the Union would make up their mind. Do they eventually mean not to support Burr as your successor, when you shall think fit to retire? Do they mean not to support him at the next election for Vice-President?
—Albert Gallatin to Thomas Jefferson, 1801
In a Day or two will be published another pamphlet in which you . . . are to [be] proven part[y] to certain imaginary intrigues of mine. This knot of knaves cannot long hold together—they begin already to call each other lyars—the only truth they have uttered.
—Aaron Burr to Pierpont Edwards, 1802
Burr arrived in Washington on March 1, 1801, three days before Jefferson took the oath of office. On his trip to the Capitol, he met his daughter and new son-in-law in Baltimore. There, Burr was greeted by an adoring crowd and a discharge of sixteen cannon. A local committee addressed the incoming vice president, praising his patriotism for having disclaimed all competition with Jefferson. Burr graciously thanked the citizens of the city, and echoed what he had said during the election crisis: “No person could have supposed that I would have stepped in between the wishes of the people and the man whom they have looked up to.”1
The inaugural was an informal affair. Jefferson, dressed in plain attire, had walked to the Capitol from his boardinghouse. There was no grand procession as there had been for Washington, and no fancy carriage as with Adams. Burr himself described the inauguration as “serene & temperate,” with the large crowd displaying “great joy but no riot.” His brief speech, which he described as “about three sentences,” was ignored in the papers. In fact, the most telling gesture was that of Burr graciously offering his seat to the president-elect as Jefferson entered the Senate chamber. Few could have missed the symbolism: it marked a moment of closure to the election tie. The man intended for the vice presidency had saved the nation by honorably ceding the presidential chair to his Virginia running mate.2
Across the country, meanwhile, celebrations, some grand, some simple, took place on inauguration day. In a Philadelphia church, thankful parishioners sang a song written for the occasion, praising the “God of Life and Liberty” for helping to avert “a Nation’s ruin.” There, too, Republicans lifted their glasses to Burr, calling him the “enemy of Tories and traitors” and a “steadfast Republican.” In one Pennsylvania oration, Burr was praised for his “capacious soul,” his unparalleled role in winning the election, “whose active genius” made him “a suitable successor to the great and sagacious Jefferson.” In New York City, festivities included a vibrant parade and accompanying band music; the backdrop of a nighttime pageant was lit by colored lamps, illuminating two hearts meant to symbolize the harmony that subsisted between Jefferson and Burr. Fireworks supplied the final entertainment, and one newspaper editor claimed that representations of Jefferson and Burr, “in colored fire,” filled the sky.3
By the following year, however, everything had changed. New York Republicans joined the Federalists in a concerted campaign to destroy Burr’s political reputation. His foremost critic was the English émigré James Cheetham, editor of the American Citizen, New York City’s one Republican newspaper. But Cheetham did not act alone. His barrage of sleazy insinuations and crude insults was encouraged by DeWitt Clinton, a rising star among Republicans in the Empire State. To Burr’s chagrin, he soon discovered that Jefferson condoned these attacks, refusing, when Burr asked him, to publicly defend his vice president. Why did Jefferson, secure in his office, decide to treat Burr as an outsider and exile him from the party leadership?
A “SLASHING WORK”
Washington City became the seat of government in 1800, just a year before Jefferson assumed the presidency. Barely a city at all, the rural, isolated town had few public buildings to boast of. The President’s House (not yet known as the White House) was large and imposing, but it remained unfinished and sparsely furnished throughout Jefferson’s two terms. It was flanked by two brick buildings, the Treasury Department to the east, and the offices for the State, War, and Navy Departments to the west. The Capitol stood half built; the foundation for its south wing had been laid, but inadequate funding stalled its construction. Congressmen grumbled over their cramped quarters, which only became worse as the House of Representatives increased in size in accordance with the 1800 census.4
The president was responsible for employing over 300 persons in 1802. Though Jefferson did not care for bureaucracy, nevertheless one of his first duties was to dole out federal patronage. Among the highly prized positions up for grabs were collectorships at the major ports, as a revenue collector’s salary was often higher than that of the members of Jefferson’s cabinet. The president adhered to two general principles in the first days of his administration: He would appoint his own cabinet (something Adams had failed to do by inheriting Washington’s cabinet, and suffered for); and he would to set a new standard for federal appointments, by refusing to eliminate all but the most strident Federalists from the government rolls. As he powerfully phrased it in his inaugural address, “We are all Republicans; we are all Federalists.”5
Jefferson aimed to accomplish the impossible—to heal the wounds caused by the intense and exceedingly malicious campaign just past, and to discourage the impulse for partisan revenge. Despite his fine words, however, a fierce battle over lucrative patronage posts sparked violent turf wars, and, not surprisingly, infighting among the Republicans themselves. Burr found himself in the middle of this wrangling for jobs. He did what he could to temper the situation he faced, endeavoring to uphold his stature as vice president while retaining his standing as New York’s most powerful party leader.
At a special session of the Senate held on inauguration day, over which Burr presided, the Federalist-dominated body gave their blessing to James Madison as secretary of state, Henry Dear
born as secretary of war, Levi Lincoln as attorney general, and Chancellor Robert Livingston as minister to France. Dearborn and Lincoln were New England Republicans; they were chosen to demonstrate a tone of compromise, inclusiveness, and a distribution of power across sectional lines. Critics called them provincials with meager talents, proof that Jefferson was bent on surrounding himself with impressionable subordinates. Dearborn unquestionably knew Burr, insofar as both men had made the long, arduous expedition from Maine to Canada in 1775; yet we do not know whether they were at all close. Jefferson had a difficult time finding a suitable Republican to be secretary of the navy; Samuel Smith held the post temporarily until his brother, Robert, agreed to serve.6
Gallatin’s appointment as secretary of the treasury was delayed until December. Given their past performance, Jefferson feared that the Federalists would reject his nomination. Once again, they attacked Gallatin as a dangerous foreigner. Angry newspaper editors called for the “jealous pride of Americans” to rise up against his appointment. To his wife, Gallatin wrote of his contentious nomination with a touch of humor, announcing that of the various cabinet nominees, the “most obnoxious to the other party, and the only one which I think will be rejected, is . . . a certain friend of yours.” Any objection to Gallatin was, as Burr wrote to Samuel Smith, “absurd.” With emphasis, Burr added: “No other man will ever have my Vote or influence.” For him, it was Gallatin for Treasury, or no one.7
Rewarding the party faithful was a crucial concern of Burr’s, and he considered it one of his most important duties as vice president. On March 17, he prepared a memorandum for Jefferson, listing his suggestions for appointments, not only for New York but for Connecticut and South Carolina as well. Noting that the New York posts had been approved by the Republicans of his state, he offered a short list of names, encompassing his trusted allies, David Gelston, John Swartwout, Matthew Livingston Davis, and Edward Livingston. Swartwout was made a U.S. marshal, and Livingston district attorney, that same month, while Gelston’s more lucrative position as collector of customs was not made official until July.8
Burr watched over Connecticut as well. Jefferson’s conciliatory approach would not work in this ultra-Federalist state. Pierpont Edwards played a leading role at this point, pleading with the president to take vigorous action to reshape the state’s power structure. Removals were necessary, Edwards argued, to ensure the “confidence of the majority” of true Republicans who were disheartened by the administration’s failure to reward them. Early on, Burr sent his uncle encouragement, feeling certain that he would be “satisfied with the Conduct of the administration.” Jefferson must have listened to his vice president in this instance, for his uncle’s dire warnings were taken seriously. The president agreed to drastic measures, conceding that in enemy territory, which Connecticut surely was, “a general sweep seems to be called for.”9
New York was different. The Federalists were being voted out of office, and expected little in the way of patronage. Absent any Federalist challenge, conflict among the Clinton, Livingston, and Burrite Republicans renewed. Although he was the vice president of the United States, Burr could not permit himself to cede his interest in New York politics if he wanted to retain a power base there. His position in New York would be conditioned by his relationship with the president; that is, whether he possessed the power to deliver appointments, and his position within the administration would be decided, in some measure, by how well his faction bore up in the course of intrastate wrangling.
George Clinton was returned to the New York governor’s chair in May 1801. This left state spoils in the hands of his self-satisfied and highly motivated nephew, DeWitt Clinton. The game was on. Jefferson took note of the Livingston and Burrite reaction to the Clintons’ ascendancy, and knew that he could not remain neutral forever, or the Republicans would chew each other up. “We shall yield a little to their pressure,” he wrote to a fellow Virginian, as he observed the New Yorkers in disarray, “but not more than appears absolutely necessary to keep them together.” Jefferson may have sought to appease all factions, but given the small chance of success in securing harmony among them, he was an astute enough politician to realize that he would eventually have to play one faction off against the others, delicately trying to ensure that whatever happened, the majority of New York Republicans would remain in his camp.10
Burr, meanwhile, had made an uncharacteristic political mistake. In February, he had thrown his support to Edward Livingston in the contest for mayor of New York City, thereby antagonizing DeWitt Clinton, who also wanted the job. Burr confidentially wrote to Livingston that he recognized he would never be forgiven for that decision. Thus, Burr soon found himself under attack by the Clintonians and a few stray Livingstons, who sought to undermine his relationship with Jefferson and ostracize his followers. Neither George Clinton nor Chancellor Livingston headed this assault, however; it was two of their ambitious underlings, DeWitt Clinton and John Armstrong, Livingston’s brother-in-law, who joined forces to destroy Burr’s career.11
Armstrong and DeWitt Clinton were an unlikely duo, but in many ways their united front reflected the unstable political climate in New York. Clinton, who was only thirty-two in 1801, made Burr look like an amateur when it came to intriguing for political power. He went from the influential council of appointment in Albany in 1801 (which decided all state patronage jobs) to the U.S. Senate in 1802; a year later, he would accept the coveted and highly lucrative post of mayor of New York after Edward Livingston’s resignation. DeWitt Clinton applied the familiar tactic of divide and conquer: he kept the Livingstons at bay by gorging them with appointments, while he isolated the Burrites. Known as haughty and imperious, Clinton considered governing New York to be a family business—and he had no desire to share it with the sitting vice president. Burr was a major threat to Clinton: he was the only New Yorker with a truly national reputation.12
Armstrong’s motives were less obvious. He had been a Federalist until 1798, and he acted like one. Diffident and aristocratic, and just two years younger than Burr, he inexplicably became a confidant of Jefferson’s when he was sent to Washington in 1801 as senator from New York (Armstrong and Clinton were playing a kind of “musical chairs” with the Senate seat; Clinton replaced Armstrong in the Senate, then resigned to become mayor, and Armstrong resumed the seat in 1803). Living at the same boardinghouse as the incoming president, Armstrong was trusted enough that he was given the task of evaluating Vice President Burr’s memoranda of suggested appointments. At first, Armstrong claimed that he liked Jefferson, but before long he was dismissing the new administration as one that lacked “vigor”—reflecting the “character of the man himself.” Armstrong, it appeared, had no genuine loyalty to anyone. If Jefferson did indeed trust this fickle New Yorker, he made a thorough misjudgment.13
At best, Armstrong can be described as a spoiler, relishing the game of ruining Burr. This was not a new role for him: back in 1783, he had written the notorious “Newburgh Address,” which severely criticized General Washington and aroused suspicions that a military coup was brewing in the Continental Army. It is also thought that Armstrong anonymously penned a series of satires against his brother-in-law, Chancellor Livingston, during the heated New York gubernatorial election of 1792. It is difficult to say whether sport or spite inspired him. At any rate, beginning in 1801, along with his erstwhile associate DeWitt Clinton, he spent his time in Washington trying, in his words, to “prostrate Burr and his ambition forever.”14
Burr was not immediately abandoned by the Jefferson administration. It happened gradually over the first year of the president’s first term. Burr found his position threatened in his home state in August, when the Council of Appointment, under DeWitt Clinton, doled out spoils to his followers and a select number of Livingston allies, conspicuously leaving the vice president’s men high and dry. Even Robert Livingston, who had no reason to take Burr’s side, found this treatment appalling, calling th
e younger Clinton’s lopsided patronage gambit a “slashing work.” At the same time, another controversy was brewing, when “secret Machinations,” as Burr called them, were underway to deny Matthew Livingston Davis the post of naval officer, which was another highly sought after job, second-in-command behind collector of customs. Other New York Republicans were equally riled: James Nicholson sent his son-in-law Albert Gallatin a heated letter, insisting that he would not support Jefferson in the next election if Davis was not installed.15
In September, Matthew Livingston Davis took the unusual step of traveling to Monticello to appeal to the president in person. He arrived armed with recommendations from prominent New York Republicans. Burr admitted to Gallatin that Davis had been “goaded into this journey” by a “hundred friends,” but he agreed that the matter was too important to be “left in suspense.” Gallatin worried that the trip might antagonize Jefferson; nevertheless, he added his recommendation. Davis’s effort was to no avail. The president gave him no encouragement, leaving the position empty until he finally appointed DeWitt Clinton’s father-in-law, Samuel Osgood, in 1803.16
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