[Footnote 193: DeWitt Clinton's Letters to Henry Post, in _Harper's Magazine_, Vol. 50, p. 417.]

The Bucktails had no serious expectation either of nominating or electing Samuel Young to the United States Senate. They knew the Clintonians had a majority, and their purpose, in attending the caucus, was simply to prevent a nomination. No sooner had the meeting a.s.sembled, therefore, than several Bucktails attacked the Governor, reproaching him for the conduct of his followers and severely criticising his political methods and character. To this German retorted with great bitterness. German made no pretensions to the gift of oratory; he had neither grace of manner nor alluring forms of expression. On the contrary, there was a certain quality of antagonism in his manner, as if he took grim satisfaction in letting fly his words, seemingly almost coldly indifferent to their effect; and on this occasion his sledge-hammer blows gave Peter R. Livingston, evidently acting by prearrangement, abundant chance for forcing a quarrel. In the confusion that followed, the caucus hastily adjourned amid mutual recriminations. When too late to mend matters the Clintonians discovered the trick. They had the majority and could easily have named Spencer as the candidate of the party, but in the excitement of German's speech and Livingston's attack they lost their heads. Thus ended forever all caucus relationship between these warring factions, and henceforth they were known as two distinct parties.

At the joint session of the Legislature, on February 2, 1819, the Clintonians gave Spencer sixty-four votes, while Young received fifty-seven, and Rufus King thirty-four. "A motion then prevailed to adjourn," wrote John A. King to his father, "so that this Legislature will make no choice." Young King, a member of the a.s.sembly, was looking after his father's re-election to the Senate. He deeply resented Clinton's control of the Federalists, because it made his father a leader only in name; and to show his dislike of Federalist methods he a.s.sociated and voted with the Bucktails. Nor did the father dislike Clinton less than the son. Rufus King had felt, what he was pleased to call "the baleful influence of the Clintons," ever since his advent into New York politics. They had opposed the Federal Const.i.tution which he, as a delegate from Ma.s.sachusetts, helped to frame; they a.s.sisted Jefferson in overwhelming Hamilton; and they benefited by the election trick which defeated John Jay. For more than two decades, therefore, Rufus King had watched their control by methods, which a man cast in a mould that would make no concessions to his virtue, could not approve. Under his observation, DeWitt Clinton had grown from young manhood, ambitious and domineering, accustomed to destroy the friend who got in his way with as much ease, apparently, as he smote an enemy. Hence King regarded him much as Hamilton did Aaron Burr; and against his candidacy for President in 1812, he used the argument that the great Federalist had hurled against the intriguing New Yorker in 1801. He rejoiced that Clinton lost the mayoralty in 1815; that he was defeated for elector in 1816; and he deeply regretted his election as governor in 1817.

On his part, Clinton had little use for Rufus King; but his need of Federalist votes made him excessively cautious about appearing to oppose the distinguished Senator; although a deep-laid scheme, understood if not engineered by Clinton, existed to defeat him. John King a.s.sured his father that Clinton, inviting Joseph Yates to breakfast, urged him to become a candidate; and that William W. Van Ness had asked Chancellor Kent to enter the race. "I entertain not the slightest doubt," he continued, referring to Van Ness, "of being able to produce such testimony of his hypocrisy and infidelity as will require more art than ever he is master of to explain or escape from."[194]

[Footnote 194: Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p. 251.]

As the time approached for the rea.s.sembling of the Legislature, in January, 1820, these machinations of Clinton caused his opponents many an uneasy hour. The Bucktails, who could not elect a senator of their own, would not take a Clintonian, and an alliance between Clinton and the Federalists, led by Van Ness, Oakley, and Jacob R. Van Rensselaer, threatened to settle the question against them. Van Buren favoured King, although the Administration at Washington thought his election impolitic, because of its effect upon the party in the State; but Van Buren showed great firmness. His party was violently opposed to King.

Van Buren, too, was growing tired of the strain of maintaining the leadership of one faction without disrupting the other. But so sure was he of the wisdom of King's support that he insisted upon it, even though it sacrificed his leadership. "We are committed to his support," he wrote. "It is both wise and honest. Mr. King's views toward us are honourable and correct. I will put my head on its propriety."[195]

[Footnote 195: Edward M. Shepard, _Life of Van Buren_, p. 71.]

Van Buren wanted to share in the division of the Federalists; and to refuse them a United States senator, when Clinton had recently given them an attorney-general, an influential, and, at that time, a most lucrative office, struck him as poor policy--especially since John A.

King and other estimable gentlemen had evidenced a disposition to join them. Two weeks before the Legislature a.s.sembled, therefore, an unsigned letter, skilfully drawn, found its way into the hands of every Bucktail, summing up the reasons why they could properly support Rufus King. After recalling his Revolutionary services, this anonymous writer declared that support of King could not subject Bucktails to the suspicion of a political bargain, since the Senator had neither acted with the Federalists who had shown malignity against the Administration, nor with that numerous and respectable portion who ignorantly thought the war impolitic; but rather with those who aided in forcing England to respect the rights of American citizens. It was a cunning letter. There was rough and rasping sarcasm for the Clintonians; an ugly disregard for the radical Federalist; a kind word for the mere party follower, and winning speech for the gifted sons who had risen superior to inherited prejudices. The concluding declaration to the Bucktails was that King merited support because he and his friends opposed Governor Clinton's re-election, the a.s.sertion being justified by reference to John King's vote against German and the Clinton Council.

Of the authorship of this remarkable paper, there could be no doubt.

William L. Marcy had aided in its preparation; but the hand of Van Buren had shaped its character and inspired its winning qualities. It had the instant effect that Van Buren plainly invoked for it--the unanimous election of Rufus King. Perhaps, on the whole, nothing in Van Buren's official life showed greater political courage or discernment. It is not so famous as his Sherrod Williams letter of 1836, or the celebrated Texas letter with which he faced the crisis of 1844, but it ranks with the public utterances of those years when he took the risk of meeting living issues that divided men on small margins. There was a strength and character about it that seemed to leave men powerless to answer. Clintonians objected to King, many Bucktails opposed him, Van Ness declared that he could easily be defeated, Thomas J. Oakley recognised him as the candidate of a man who spoke of Clinton and his Federalist allies as profligates and political blacklegs. Yet they all voted for Rufus King. Van Buren made up their minds for them; and, though protesting against the duplicity of Bucktail, the cowardliness of Federalist, and the timidity of Clintonian, each party indorsed him, while proclaiming him not its choice.

But Rufus King was not an ordinary candidate. His great experience and exalted character, coupled with his discriminating devotion to the best interests of the country, yielded strength that no other man in the State could command. He was now about sixty years of age, and, of living statesmen, he had no superior. His life had been a pure one, and his public acts and purposes, measured by the virtues of patriotism, honesty and integrity, ent.i.tled him to the respect and lasting grat.i.tude of his fellow citizens. The taste for letters which characterised his Harvard College days, followed him into public affairs, and if his style lacked the simplicity of Madison's and the prophetic grasp and instinctive knowledge of Hamilton, he shared their clearness of statement and breadth of view. He displayed similar capacity in administration and in keeping abreast of the times.

Although a lifelong member of the Federal party, whose leadership in New York he inherited upon the death of its great founder, he supported the War of 1812 with zeal, giving no countenance to the Hartford Convention if he did not openly oppose it, and promising nothing in the way of aid that he did not amply and promptly fulfil.

At the supreme moment of the crisis, in 1814, when the general government needed money and the banks would loan only upon the indors.e.m.e.nt of the Governor, he pledged his honour to support Tompkins in whatever he did.

To the society of contemporaries, regardless of party, King was always welcome. He disliked a quarrel. It seemed to be his effort to avoid controversy; and when compelled to lead, or to partic.i.p.ate conspicuously in heated debate, he carefully abstained from giving offence. Benton bears testimony to his habitual observance of the courtesies of life. Indeed, his urbanity made a deep impression upon all his colleagues. Yet King was not a popular man. The people thought him an aristocrat; and, although without arrogance, his appearance and manner gave character to their opinion. His countenance inclined to austerity, forbidding easy approach; his indisposition to talk lent an air of reserve, with the suggestion of coldness, which was unrelieved by the touch of amiability that commended John Jay to the affectionate regard of men. It was his nature to be serious and thoughtful. Among friends he talked freely, often facetiously, becoming, at times, peculiarly instructive and fascinating, as his remarkable memory gave up with accuracy and facility the product of extensive travel, varied experiences, close observation, and much reading. His statements, especially those relating to historical and political details, were rarely questioned. We read that he was of somewhat portly habit, above the middle size, strongly made, with the warm complexion of good health, large, attractive eyes, and a firm, full mouth; that, although men no longer chose to be divided sharply by marked distinction of attire, he always appeared in the United States Senate in full dress, with short clothes, silk stockings and shoes--having something of pride and hauteur in his manner that was slightly offensive to plain country gentlemen, as well as inconsistent with the republican idea of equality. Wealthy, he lived at Jamaica, in a stately mansion, surrounded by n.o.ble horse chestnut trees, an estate known as King Park, and kept at public expense as a typical Long Island colonial homestead.

It is possible that the extension of slavery into Missouri influenced King's return to the United States Senate; for the election occurred in the midst of that heated contest, a contest in which he had already taken a conspicuous part in the Fifteenth Congress, and in which he was destined to earn, in still greater degree, the commendation of friends, outside and inside the Senate, as the champion of freedom. But whatever the cause of his election, it is certain that it was free from suspicion, other than that he preferred Van Buren to Clinton--a choice which necessarily created the impression that King's prejudice against Clinton resulted more from jealousy than from aversion to his character. No doubt Clinton's ability to dominate Federalist support, in spite of King's opposition, wounded the latter's pride and created a dislike which gradually deepened into a feeling of resentment. It had practically left him without a party; and he turned to Van Buren very much as Charles James Fox turned to Lord North in 1782. He cheerfully accepted the most confidential relations with the Kinderhook statesman, and when, a year or two later, Van Buren joined him in the United States Senate, Benton observed the deferential regard paid by Van Buren to his venerable colleague, and the marked kindness and respect returned by King. Yet King did not openly ally himself with the Bucktails. They could rely with certainty upon his support to antagonise Clinton, but he declined to join a party whose character and principles did not promise such companionship as he had been accustomed to.

CHAPTER XXV

TOMPKINS' LAST CONTEST

1820

The coming of 1820 was welcomed by the Van Buren forces. It was the year for the selection of another governor, and the Bucktails, very weary of Clinton, were anxious for a change. For all practical purposes Bucktails and Clintonians had now become two opposing parties, Van Buren's removal as attorney-general, by the Council of 1819, ending all semblance of friendship and political affiliation.

This Council was known as "Clinton's Council;" and, profiting by the lesson learned in 1817, Clinton had made a clean sweep of the men he believed to have acted against him. He gave Van Buren's place to Thomas J. Oakley, and Peter A. Jay, eldest son of John Jay, who had rendered valuable a.s.sistance in promoting the construction of the ca.n.a.l, he made recorder of New York City, an office which Richard Riker had held since 1815. These appointments naturally subjected the Governor to the criticism of removing Republicans to make places for Federalists. But the new officers were Clinton's friends, while Riker, at least, had been an open enemy since Jonas Platt's appointment to the Supreme bench in 1814. Jay's appointment was also a thrust at the so-called "high-minded" Federalists, composed of the sons of Alexander Hamilton, Rufus King, and other well known men of the party.

Clinton's intimates had long known his desire to get rid of Van Buren.

In his letters to Henry Post, the Kinderhook statesman is termed "an arch scoundrel," "the prince of villains," and "a confirmed knave;"[196] yet Clinton put off the moment of his removal from week to week, very much as Tompkins hesitated to remove Clinton from the mayoralty; that is, not so much to save the feelings of Van Buren as to avert the hostility of James Tallmadge and John C. Spencer, both of whom sought the office. Tallmadge had recently returned from Congress full of honours because of his brilliant part in the great debate on the Missouri Compromise, and he now confidently expected the appointment. The moment, therefore, the Council, at its meeting in July, 1819, named Oakley, Tallmadge ranged himself squarely among Clinton's enemies. Van Buren had expected dismissal, and he seems to have taken it with the outward serenity and dignity that characterised the departure of Clinton from the mayoralty in 1815; but in confidential communications to Rufus King, he spoke of Clinton and his friends as "very profligate men," "politician blacklegs," and "a set of desperadoes."[197]

[Footnote 196: DeWitt Clinton's Letters to Henry Post, in _Harper's Magazine_, Vol. 50, p. 412-7, 563-71.]

[Footnote 197: Martin Van Buren to Rufus King, January 19, 1820; Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p.

252.]

In the Bucktail mind, Daniel D. Tompkins seemed the only man sufficiently popular to oppose DeWitt Clinton in the gubernatorial contest. He was remembered as the great War Governor; and the up-state leaders, representing the old war party, thought he could rally and unite the opposing factions better than any one else. In some respects Tompkins' position in 1820 was not unlike that of John A. Andrew in Ma.s.sachusetts in 1870, the great war governor of the Civil War. His well-doing in the critical days of the contest had pa.s.sed into history, making his accomplishment a matter of pride to the State, and giving him an a.s.sured standing. Everybody knew that he had raised troops after enlistments had practically stopped elsewhere; that he had bought army supplies, equipped regiments, constructed fortifications, manned forts, fitted out privateers, paid bills from funds raised on his individual indors.e.m.e.nt, and worked with energy while New England sulked. When the grotesque treaty of Ghent closed the war, the Governor's star shone brightly in the zenith. At this time, therefore, Daniel D. Tompkins was undoubtedly the most popular man personally that ever partic.i.p.ated in New York politics. Hammond, the historian, relates that a father, desiring the pardon of his son, left the capital better pleased with Governor Tompkins, who refused it, than with Governor Clinton, who granted it. It is not easy to say just wherein lay the charm of his wonderful personality. His voice was rich and mellow; his face, prepossessing in repose, expressed sympathy and friendship; while his manner, gentle and gracious without unnaturalness, appealed to his auditor as if he of all men, was the one whom the Governor wished to honour. His success, too, had been marvellous. He had carried the State by the largest majority ever given to a governor up to that time; larger than Jay's triumphant majority in 1798; larger than George Clinton's in 1801 after the election of Jefferson and the organisation of the Republican party; larger even than the surprising vote given Morgan Lewis in 1804, when Alexander Hamilton and the Clintons combined against Aaron Burr.

Tompkins' nomination for governor, therefore, was made on January 16, 1820, without the slightest opposition.

It was known, at this time, that Tompkins' accounts as governor showed a shortage. He had failed to take vouchers during the war, and it was thought not unlikely that he had paid for army supplies out of his own money, and for family supplies out of the State's money; but no one believed him guilty of intentional misconduct. Nevertheless, his accounts, after the comptroller had audited them, after a commission of expert accountants had sought for missing vouchers, and after friends had made explanations, were still $120,000 short. By an act, approved April 13, 1819, the Legislature authorised the comptroller to balance this shortage by allowing Tompkins a premium of twelve per cent. on $1,000,000, and people thought nothing more about it until Tompkins presented an account, demanding a premium of twenty-five per cent., which brought the State in debt to him in the sum of $130,000.

The comptroller, overwhelmed by the extravagance of the claim, construed the law to limit the premium on moneys borrowed solely on Tompkins' personal responsibility, and out of this a correspondence was conducted with much asperity. Archibald McIntyre, the comptroller since 1806, possessed the absolute confidence of the people; and when his letters became public a suspicion that the Vice President might be wrong was quickly encouraged by the friends of Clinton. This suspicion was increased as soon as the Legislature of 1820 got to work. It was intent on mischief. By a fusion of Clintonians and Federalists John C.

Spencer became speaker of the a.s.sembly, and to cripple Tompkins, who had now been nominated for governor, Jedediah Miller of Schoharie offered a resolution approving the conduct of the Comptroller in settling the accounts of the former Governor. This precipitated a discussion which has rarely been equalled in Albany for pa.s.sion and brilliancy. A coterie of the most skilful debaters happened to be members of this a.s.sembly; and for several weeks Thomas J. Oakley, John C. Spencer, and Elisha Williams sustained the Comptroller, while Erastus Root, Peter Sharpe, and others pleaded for Tompkins.

Meanwhile, on the 9th of March, a Senate committee, with Van Buren as chairman, reported that the Comptroller ought to have allowed Tompkins a premium of twelve and a half per cent. on $1,000,000, leaving a balance due the Vice President of $11,870.50. It was a strange mix-up, and the more committees examined it the worse appeared the muddle.

After Van Buren had reported, the question arose, should the Comptroller be sustained, or should the report of Van Buren's committee be accepted? It was a long drop from $130,000 claimed by Tompkins to $11,780.50 awarded him by Van Buren, yet it was better to take that than accept a settlement which made him a defaulter, and the Senate approved the Van Buren report. But Thomas J. Oakley, chairman of the a.s.sembly committee to which it was referred, did not propose to let the candidate for governor escape so easily. In an able review of the whole question he sustained the Comptroller, maintaining that the Vice President must seek relief under the law like other parties, and instructing the Comptroller to sue for any balance due the State, unless Tompkins reimbursed it by the following August. This ended legislation for the session.

Van Buren seems to have had no concern about Tompkins' ca.n.a.l record.

Possibly he thought the disappearance of Bucktail opposition took that issue out of the campaign; but he was greatly worked up over the unsettled accounts, and in his usual adroit manner set influences to work to discourage Tompkins' acceptance of the nomination, and to secure the consent of Smith Thompson, then secretary of the navy, to make the race himself. He had little difficulty in accomplishing this end, for Thompson was not at all unwilling. But to get rid of Tompkins was another question. "The Republican party in this State never was better united," he wrote Smith Thompson, on January 19, 1820, three days after Tompkins' nomination; "they all love, honour and esteem the Vice President; but such is their extreme anxiety to insure the prostration of the Junto, who have stolen into the seats of power, that they all desire that you should be the candidate. They will support Tompkins to the bat's end if you refuse, or he should not decline; but if he does, and you consent to our wishes, you will be hailed as the saviour of New York."[198] On the same day Van Buren also wrote Rufus King: "Some of our friends think it is dangerous to support the Vice President under existing circ.u.mstances.... A few of us have written him freely on the subject and to meet the event of his having left the city of Washington, I have sent a copy of our letter to Secretary Thompson, of which circ.u.mstance the Secretary is not informed. There are many points of view in which it would be desirable to place this subject before you, but I am fully satisfied you will appreciate without further explanation. I will, therefore, only say, that if the Vice President is with you, and upon a free discussion between you, the Secretary and himself, he should resolve to decline, and you can induce the Secretary to consent to our using his name, you will do a lasting benefit to the Republican interest of this State."[199]

[Footnote 198: Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p. 254.]

[Footnote 199: Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p. 252.]

To this most adroit and cunning letter Rufus King replied on the last day of the month: "The Vice President left us to-day at noon; on his way he stopped at the Senate and we had a short conference.... I observed as between him and Mr. Clinton my apprehension was that a majority, possibly a large majority of Federalists would vote for Mr.

Clinton; adding that between the Secretary of the Navy and Mr. Clinton I was persuaded that a majority of the Federalists would prefer the Secretary.... Apologising for the frankness with which I expressed my opinion, I added that I hoped he would wait until he reached New York before he decided; perhaps he would think it best to delay his answer until he arrived in Albany; one thing I considered absolutely necessary--that his accounts should be definitely closed before election. He answered that he was going immediately to Albany with four propositions which would lead to a final settlement; that he might think it best to delay his answer to the nomination until he should reach Albany. I said in conclusion that my earnest wish was the exclusion of Mr. Clinton, and my preference (knowing the personal sacrifice he would make in consenting to his own nomination) that the candidate selected should be the man who, in the opinion of those most capable to decide, will be the most likely to accomplish the work."[200]

[Footnote 200: _Ibid._, Vol. 6, p. 263.]

Rufus King certainly did his work well. He had abundantly discouraged him as to the Federalists and had fully advised him as to the importance of settling his accounts; but all to no purpose. Two days later Thompson wrote Van Buren that the Vice President "will stand."

The Kinderhook statesman, however, disinclined to give it up, asked the Secretary in a note on the same day for authority to use his name "if the Vice President, when he arrives here, should wish to decline."

On the 7th of February, John A. King wrote his father: "Hopes are still entertained that the Vice President's decision may yet yield to the wishes of many of his oldest friends. Those, however, who know him best have no such hopes. Judge Yates has said that he never refused an offer of any sort in his life."[201] And so it proved in this instance. Tompkins was immovable. Like a race horse trained to running, he only needed to be let into the ring and given a free rein.

When the bell sounded he was off on his fifth race for governor.

[Footnote 201: Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p. 267.]

If Tompkins was handicapped with a shortage and a ca.n.a.l record, Clinton was hara.s.sed for want of a party. To conceal the meagreness of his strength in a legislative caucus, Clinton was renominated with John Taylor at a meeting of the citizens of Albany. He had a following and a large one, but it was without cohesion or discipline. Men felt at liberty to withdraw without explanation and without notice. Within eight months after his election as a Clintonian senator, Benjamin Mooers of Plattsburg accepted the nomination for lieutenant-governor on the ticket with Governor Tompkins, apparently without loss of political prestige, or the respect of neighbours. The administration at Washington recognised the Bucktails as the regular Republican party, and showered offices among them, until Clinton later made it a matter of public complaint and official investigation. Other disintegrating influences were also at work. The "high minded"

Federalists, in a published doc.u.ment signed by forty or fifty leading men, declared the Federal party dissolved and annihilated, and p.r.o.nounced the Clinton party simply a personal one. To belong to it independence must be surrendered, and to obtain office in it, one must laud its head and bow the knee, a system of sycophancy, they said, disgusting all "high minded" men. But DeWitt Clinton's strength was not in parties nor in political management. He belonged to the great men of his time, having no superior in New York, and, in some respects, no equal in the country. He possessed a broader horizon, a larger intellect, a greater moral courage, than most of his contemporaries. It is probably true that, like a mountain, he appeared best at a distance, but having confidence in his ability and integrity, people easily overlooked his rough, unpopular manners. The shrewd, sagacious Yankee farmers who were filling up the great western counties of Ontario and Genesee believed in him. The Bucktails did not know, until the eastern and western districts responded with five thousand eight hundred and four majority for Clinton, as against four thousand three hundred and seventy-seven for Tompkins in the middle and southern districts, what a capital cry Clinton had in the ca.n.a.l issue; what a powerful appeal to selfish interests he could put into voice; and what a loud reply selfish interests would make to the appeal. It was not, in fact, a race between parties at all; it was not a question of shortage or settlement. It is likely the shortage affected the result somewhat; but the majority of over fourteen hundred meant approval of Clinton and his ca.n.a.l policy rather than distrust of Tompkins and his unsettled accounts. The question in 1820 was, shall the ca.n.a.l be built? and, although the Bucktails had ceased their hostility, the people most interested in the ca.n.a.l's construction wanted Clinton to complete what he had so gloriously and successfully begun.

The campaign was fought out with bitterness and desperation until the polls closed. No national or state issue divided the parties. In fact, there were no issues. It was simply a question whether Clinton and his friends, or Tompkins and the Bucktails should control the state government. The arguments, therefore, were purely personal. Clinton's friends relied upon his ca.n.a.l policy, his honesty, and his integrity--the Bucktails insisted that Clinton was no longer a Republican; that the ca.n.a.l would be constructed as well without him as with him, and that his defeat would wipe out factional strife and give New York greater prominence in the councils of the party. "For the last ten days," wrote Van Buren to Rufus King, on April 13, "I have scarcely had time to take my regular meals and am at this moment pressed by at least half a dozen unfinished concerns growing out of this intolerable political struggle in which we are involved."[202]

Nevertheless, he had no doubt of Tompkins' election. "I entertain the strongest convictions that we shall succeed,"[203] he wrote later in the month. On the other hand, Clinton was no less certain. In his letters to Henry Post he is always confident; but at no time more so than now. "The ca.n.a.l proceeds wondrously well," he says. "The Martling opposition has ruined them forever. The public mind was never in a better train for useful operations. John Townsend has just come from the west. There is but one sentiment."[204] Yet, when the battle ended, it looked like a Clintonian defeat and Bucktail victory; for the latter had swept the Legislature, adding to their control in the Senate and capturing the a.s.sembly by a majority of eighteen over all.

It was only the presence of Tompkins among the slain that transferred the real glory to Clinton, whose majority was fourteen hundred and fifty-seven in a total vote of ninety-three thousand four hundred and thirty-seven. This exceeded any former aggregate by nearly ten thousand.[205]

[Footnote 202: Charles R. King, _Life and Correspondence of Rufus King_, Vol. 6, p. 331.]

[Footnote 203: _Ibid._, Vol. 6, p. 332.]

[Footnote 204: DeWitt Clinton to Henry Post, in _Harper's Magazine_, Vol. 50, p. 413.]

[Footnote 205: DeWitt Clinton, 47,444; Daniel D. Tompkins, 45,990.--_Civil List, State of New York_ (1887), p. 166.]

Daniel D. Tompkins took his defeat much to heart. He believed his unsettled accounts had occasioned whispered slanders that crushed him.

After his angry controversy with Comptroller McIntyre, in the preceding year, he seriously considered the propriety of resigning as Vice President; for he sincerely believed his figures were right and that the Comptroller's language had cla.s.sed him in the public mind with what, in these latter days, would be called "grafters." "Our friend on Staten Island is unfortunately sick in body and mind,"

Clinton wrote to Post in September, 1819. "His situation upon the whole is deplorable and calculated to excite sympathy."[206] It was, indeed, a most unfortunate affair, for the State discovered, years after it was too late, that it did owe the War Governor ninety-two thousand dollars.

[Footnote 206: DeWitt Clinton's Letters to Henry Post, in _Harper's Magazine_, Vol. 50, p. 413.]