CHAPTER XV. GENERAL JACKSON AT A TAMMANY BANQUET. CCASIONALLY at some of these banquets unreconciled partisans would meet, and curious contretemps were liable to occur if the managers of the entertainment were not sufficiently wary. An amusing instance of this kind happened on one occasion in which General Andrew Jackson was the principal figure. This took place after the close of the war, and when General Jackson's fame rested only on his military achievements, particularly his grand success in the battle of New Orleans, and before his statesman-like qualities had been afforded any opportunity for their display. Just at this time in New York there was, politically speaking, war between the supporters of De Witt Clinton and the regular Tammany organization, and, as a national election was approaching, the feeling of antagonism between the parties became intensified. On the anniversary of Washington's birthday, February 22d, 1819, the Tammany men, or "bucktails," as they were still generally called, were indulging in their annual banquet when General Andrew Jackson happened to visit New York. He was naturally hailed as the successful commander who had closed the war with Great Britain by the most brilliant victory of the whole contest. His name had not yet, however, become a party war cry, though he was known to be a whole-souled Democrat, and some of the more astute politicians were already contemplating the possibility of presenting him in the near future as a candidate for the highest office in the land. Thus it became a matter of interest to secure his friendship and the prestige of his name, keeping him away if possible, from all contamination by the Clintonite faction. On the day of his arrival in New York he had been greeted with an official reception by the civic authorities, and had been formally presented with the freedom of the city. Later he was invited and had accepted an invitation to dine at Tammany Hall, and was received by the assembled company with immense enthusiasm. The entertainment had been prepared with all the elegance, regardless of expense, of which the caterers of those days were capable; in the language of the local press, "it was superb." As the evening advanced, and toasts were in order, the following rather high-flown compliment, in the shape of a toast, was proposed in honor of the distinguished guest: "To General Jackson-'So long as the Mississippi rolls its waters to the Ocean, so long may his great name and glorious deeds be remembered.'" But what was the chagrin and consternation of the company when the General, in his most expressive manner and with his clear resonant voice, responded to the toast by proposing the health of De Witt Clinton, "Governor of this great and patriotic State of New York!" Jackson, it was clear, had not been studying the local politics of New York City. The confusion which followed this malapropos suggestion was so great, the surprise and excitement so intense, that Jackson, totally unprepared for such a result, incontinentally withdrew from the banquet and precipitately left the hall. Fitz-Greene Halleck, the popular poet, and who has through his charming verses descended to our day, could not resist the temptation, in his semi-comic satirical way, to describe the contretemps in a sparkling little poem entitled, "The Secret Mine Sprung at a Late Supper." One verse ran thus: "The songs were good, for Mead and Hawkins sung them, As fall the sticks of rockets when we fire them, So fell the Bucktails at that toast accurst, Looking like Korah, Dathan and Abirim, When the firm earth beneath their footsteps burst." CHAPTER XVI. TRINITY CHURCH RIOT. De Witt Clinton Offends Tammany. HE relations between Tammany and De Witt Clinton had formerly been altogether different. Jackson had probably known of him as an honored member of the Society, which he was for many years; he had even been Scribe to the Council, and in 1795 Tammany had publicly supported him for the Assembly, but about 1810 the ultra-Democrats began to feel that he was exhibiting certain aristocratic tendencies, very much disapproved of by the Democratic spirit inherent in the Order. In 1811 when De Witt Clinton was Mayor of New of New York, the disaffection toward him reached its climax, which was greatly intensified by a peculiar incident which was was not indeed a strictly political affair, but which very clearly brought out the political sympathies and affinities of all the parties concerned-including De Witt Clinton. This was a College Commencement, and it has passed into local history as "The Trinity Church Riot." It appears that in 1796 the Faculty of Columbia College had passed a resolution obliging students to submit all manuscripts intended for public reading to the examination of a designated member of the Faculty, but without attaching any penalty for the infraction of this new rule. On the occasion in question a young man named J. B. Stevenson, subsequently well known as a successful medical practitioner, was one of the graduating class, and was appointed one of the disputants in a political debate forming part of the public exercises, which were to be held in Trinity Church. Now it happened that the conservative Reverend Dr. Wilson was of the committee on preliminary examination of manuscripts, and had objected to the phrase in young Stevenson's paper thus expressed: "Representatives ought to act according to the sentiments of their constituents." The Professor required Mr. Stevenson to alter or modify this sentence. The student strenuously objected, on the ground that in Commencement exercises only correct principles should be delivered. No promises were made, but on Commencement Day Stevenson read his manuscript as originally written. When his name was called to come forward for his diploma, and he had advanced to receive it, the President refused to give it to him, though he had been a good student and of exemplary conduct. When this action was perceived Stevenson was immediately surrounded by his friends, and, prompted by them, he audibly demanded his diploma as of right. One of the Professors, thinking to smooth the matter over, or perhaps draw from the young man an apology. remarked, "You probably forgot it," but Stevenson was no such trimmer as to avail himself of any such contemptible mode of retreat, and boldly, but respectfully, answered: “No, I did not forget, but I would not utter what I did not believe." Still the President refused to hand over the diploma. Stevenson, naturally somewhat irritated, suddenly turned to the audience, and in a clear, strong voice, exclaimed: "Ladies and gentlemen, I am refused my degree, no: from any literary deficiency, but because I refused to speak the sentiments of others as my own." The sensation produced by this simple statement was extraordinary. One of the alumni present, Mr. Hugh Maxwell, went on the improvised stage to defend Stevenson's course, and he condemned the attitude of the Faculty in terms which to them appeared very offensive language. Then a wellknown citizen, Mr. Verplanck, ascended the platform and asked the provost, Dr. Mason, "why he refused a degree which had been fairly earned by years of faithful study?" Dr. Mason replied that it was "because Mr. Stevenson had not complied with the order of Dr. Wilson to alter his manuscript." "The reason is not satisfactory, sir," replied Mr. Verplanck. "Mr. Maxwell must be sustained; I move that a vote of thanks be tendered to Mr. Maxwell for his defense of Mr. Stevenson and of the right of free speech." The excitement at this point became intense. Dr. Mason tried in vain to restore order, and he afterward testified that he was greeted with a hiss, "that in manner and quality would not disgrace a congregation of snakes on Snake Hill in New Jersey." He had to retire from the platform. The police finally restored some degree of order, but the exercises were abruptly concluded amid much confusion. A few days later the Faculty published what they called a "Vindication" of their course. This brought out a rejoinder from members of the graduating class and others. which so exasperated the already inflamed feelings of the Faculty that they caused a complaint to be laid before the Grand Jury. This led to the indictment of seven of the persons who had interrupted the College exercises. Of course, Stevenson, Maxwell and Verplanck were included in the number. The case was called in the August term of what was then known as the Mayor's Court, and over which De Witt Clinton ex-officio presided. The charge against the defendants was "riot." Verplanck and Maxwell defended themselves; the others employed counsel, including such legal talent as David B. Ogden, Josiah O. Hoffman and Peter A. Jay. Dr. Mason, the chief complainant, was perhaps the most popular, as he was certainly one of the most learned and eloquent preachers of the day; and at that period all clergymen were treated with far more conventional deference than is now customary, SO that Dr. Mason's dignity was terribly hurt by the public rebuff which he had received from the students, and the sharp rebukes administered by their friends; he was consequently anxious to secure the conviction of the indicted parties. The latter were ably defended, but, as the result proved, they labored before a deeply prejudiced Judge. Counsellor Jay had argued that under "Hawkins's (an acknowledged authority) definition," there had been no "riot," and that in equity, if the Faculty allowed political debates by the students, they should be permitted to utter their own thoughts, and not be compelled to utter the words of others, like parrots; that the college authorities had, in fact, no case, for the rule to which they referred as having been broken by Stevenson had no penalty attached, and was for that reason null and of no effect. In truth, as in public estimation, it was not the students but the Faculty which was on trial, it was they who had caused the trouble. Jay's eloquence was in vain. Clinton's sympathies were all on the side of the college authorities. He declared that Hawkins's definition was bad, that Verplanck's moving a vote of thanks to Maxwell was "matchless insolence," and. after many more severe strictures upon the defendants, he charged the jury to bring in a verdict of "guilty," which they did. Verplanck and Maxwell were fined two hundred dollars each, and required to find sureties for their good behavior, and it was openly said that Clinton had really mediated imposing a sentence of imprisonment, but that a friend, a keen observer of the public temperament, had assured the Mayor that "the people wouldn't stand it." The public dissent even over the imposition of such a heavy fine was very freely expressed, especially among the members of Tammany, and indeed all of the Madisonian Democrats. Just at this period the country was on the verge of war with England. Madison and Clinton were both Candidates for the Presidency. Clinton, though calling himself a Democrat, was accused of intriguing to procure the aid of the Federalists, and the course he took as judge in this trial was supposed to have been dictated by his desire to please that party-particularly some of its leaders, then including John Jay, Rufus King and Governeur Morris. Dr. Mason was a bigoted Federalist and an active prompter of meetings between Clinton and the Federal leaders; but the main object of these consultations fell through, in a great measure, on account of John Jay's disgust when he heard Clinton affirm "that he had never sympathized with the Democrats, but had always favored the policy of Adams," which statement Jay knew was utterly false, for Clinton had at one time denounced the Federal leaders as "men who would rather lead in hell than serve in heaven"-words which, when uttered, had run throughout the length and breadth of the country like wildfire. As time went on the breach between Tammany and De Witt Clinton continued to widen. A newspaper of the day, a year later, published the following: "A meeting was got up in Martling's Long Room, a public house fronting the park, called Tammany Hall, which was claimed as the Democratic headquarters for the city of New York. Mr. Teunis Wortman, who was the protége of Mr. Clinton during the struggle with Col. Burr, was one of the most busy spirits in gathering and exciting the opposition on this occasion. At this meeting Mangle Minthorn, the father-in-law of Governor Tompkins, presided, and John Bingham was secretary. They adopted a preamble, which set forth that they believed Mr. Clinton was cherishing interests distinct and separate from the general interests of the Democratic party, and determined to establish in his own person a pernicious family aristocracy; that devotion to his person had been in a great measure made the exclusive test of merit, and the only passport to promotion; that the meeting had strong reasons to believe he opposed the election of Mr. Madison to the Presidency of the United States, and that they could no longer consider him a member of the Democratic party." The experiences of the war period, 1812-15, had naturally intensified the feeling of the Democrats against those who had criticised war measures or shown themselves in any way friendly to British interests. As a specimen of the lively partisan appeals in vogue at that day, witness the following appeal issued by the Tammany party just preceding the spring elections of 1815: "Democrats, do you wish again to see this city in the hands of Tories, to be governed by traitors and cowards? [De Witt Clinton had just been removed from the Mayoralty.] To behold the trophies which your valor and perseverance have won, in a most glorious and successful war, transferred to the base hirelings of England? If you wish to see this, remain at home, indulge in idle repose, and, by your own indifference and supineness, let the Federal ticket prevail. "If, on the contrary, you really desire to see Democracy triumphant and the city in the hands of firm and decided friends of Liberty and Independence |