John Adams disliked him in his way no less than Jefferson or Burr, and eventually quarrelled with nearly all the Federalists who were friendly to Hamilton. Some years before the powerful Livingstons in his own State had deserted the Federal cause, being ambitious of more power than was accorded them by Hamilton and Schuyler, and resented the election of Rufus King to the Senate, so that at the end but a few adherents remained, among them the doughty Timothy Pickering, who upon every occasion assailed not only Adams but Jefferson, and even after Hamilton's death worked valiantly to defend his memory against the assaults of unscrupulous political adversaries.
During Hamilton's official career his vigorous methods kept him constantly in hot water, but he always emerged from each particular trouble, after the discomfiture of his enemies, quite ready for a new experience. While it is not possible in the limited space here available to go into these various plots, two or three well-known examples may be referred to that throw light upon his character and evidence his preparedness, for he was not found napping, and the accounts of his office were in such good condition and so well systematized that he never had any trouble whatever in producing documents and briefs to vindicate his good name in all attacks. In 1783, after he had won the test case of Rutgers vs. Waddington which was the death of the unfair trespass act, he was most unpopular.
After Jay's treaty with Great Britain he was violently assailed in print, and as was the custom in those days replied in a forceful series of letters signed Phocion, to those of one Ledyard who was known as Mentor. The repudiation policy which had been favored by Governor Clinton at one time, and which was obnoxious to Hamilton and conflicted with his ideas of justice, was attacked by him with a force and convincing directness which enraged Ledyard's adherents. The result was that the members of a club of amiable gentlemen, of which the latter was the head, determined that Hamilton was best dead and out of the way, and without the knowledge of their president gravely proposed that they should challenge him in turn to fight until some one was so successful as to remove him. They, however, were quickly taken to account by Ledyard, who angrily repudiated this absurd plan, and taunted his associates because their act, if carried out, would be an admission that they were unable to refute Hamilton's charges. Upon two other occasions he was charged with financial irregularities by discharged treasury clerks who found the ears of his political enemies (see p. 54); in fact, it would appear that during his entire tenure of office much of his time was given to meeting assaults upon his integrity.
The admixture of Scotch and French blood which flowed in his veins was responsible for many of his striking traits and for many of his inconsistencies, if it be a fault, his great obstinacy in pursuing objects which were to be attained only at great risk and effort may be instanced and he sometimes persisted in disregard of the caution that ordinarily belongs to the Scot. This often implied that he did not resort to the smaller methods where conciliation would have been much better than coercion. He was not always a diplomat and did not possess the qualities of Burr or other more astute politicians; in fact, he was above chicanery.
Upon an early occasion his dislike for Governor Clinton, which was an outgrowth of the behavior of the latter at the Poughkeepsie Convention and his imperious methods, led to the alienation of members of his own party and subsequent defeat, and undoubtedly the election of Burr and Jefferson was largely brought about by his insistence, and failure to provide for lesser politicians who surrounded him.
It is not extraordinary that a person whose mind was so constantly engaged to the point of profound absorption—for what he did was with the exercise of all his powers—should have his periods of absent-mindedness. We are told by Trevelyan that "the New York Company of Artillery was a model of discipline; its captain a mere boy with small, delicate, and slender frame who, with cocked hat pulled down on his eyes, and apparently lost in thought, marched behind his cannon, patting it every now and then as if it were a favorite horse or pet plaything." Possibly this was the same kind of abstraction that was later shown and described in a letter written by General Schuyler to his daughter.
Philip Schuyler to Elizabeth Hamilton
Albany, October 6, 1789.
My beloved Eliza: The following anecdote which I learned from Judge Benson may amuse. A gentleman travelling from New York to this place stopped at Kinder-hook and made several turns in the street passing to and fro before the store of a Mr. Rodgers. Apparently in deep contemplation, and his lips moving as rapidly as if he was in conversation with some person—he entered the store, tendered a fifty-dollar bill to be exchanged. Rodgers refused to change it, the gentleman retired. A person in the store asked Rodgers if the bill was counterfeited. He replied in the negative. Why then did you not oblige the Gentleman by exchanging It,—because said Rodgers the poor Gentleman has lost his reason; but said the other, he appeared perfectly natural. That may be said Rodgers, he probably has his lucid intervals, but I have seen him walk before my door for half an hour, sometimes stopping, but always talking to himself, and If I had changed the money and he had lost It I might have received blame.—Pray ask my Hamilton if he can't guess who the Gentleman was. My Love to him, in which you participate. Adieu my Beloved Child.
Ever yours. Ph. Schuyler.
It would appear, from Hamilton's written productions, that what he did was always so thorough and systematic and he was so given to detail that the activity of his cerebration must have been intense and his power of attention and application quite out of the ordinary. He undoubtedly possessed that form of nervous instability common to many active public men and characterized by varying moods, which was sometimes expressed by alternating depression on the one hand and gayety on the other. His perception was quick, and, despite the criticism of Mr. Lodge, he possessed a lively imagination, and was also deeply sensitive, as is shown in many little ways in his family life. In his letters to his wife his emotional changes are most evident, and his varying playfulness and gayety are at times dominant.
He wrote to her from Philadelphia, November, 1798:
"I am always very happy my dear Eliza, when I can steal a few moments to sit down and write to you. You are my good genius; of that kind which the ancient philosophers called a familiar: and you know very well that I am glad to be in every way as familiar as possible with you. I have formed a sweet project, of which I will make you my confidant when I come to New York, and in which I rely that you will cooperate with me cheerfully.
You may guess and guess and guess again Your guessing will be still in vain.
But you will not be the less pleased when you come to understand and realize the scheme.
Adieu best of wives and best of mothers Heaven ever bless you & me in you.
A. H. And again:
"After I had sent my letter to you to the Post Office I received yours of the instant. My beloved chides me for not having written on my first arrival here. I hope my letter by Col. Burr will have removed her uneasiness as it informed her that ill health and fatigue had been the cause of my omission. Indeed, my Betsey, you need never fear a want of anxious attention to you, for you are now dearer than ever to me. Your happiness is the first and sweetest object of my wishes and cares. How can it be otherwise? You are all that is charming in my estimation and the more I see of your sex the more I become convinced of the judiciousness of my choice.
I hear your Heart ready to ask me, why instead of writing this I do not come myself to tell it you—Your father's pressing desire must be my excuse for reasons I shall explain when we meet. But my departure will not be postponed beyond Friday, that is, the day after tomorrow. I go in your father's shay to Poughkeepsie and thence with Benson in his shay to New York.
Monday at furthest I embrace my angel.
That Heaven may heap its blessings upon her and the dear pledges of our affection is the constant prayer of her
A.