Jefferson's Second Revolution: The Election Crisis of 1800 and the Triumph of Republicanism
- Book Review,
by Susan Dunn
From Publishers Weekly
In her take on the election of 1800, historian Dunn (co-author with James MacGregor Burns of The Three Roosevelts, etc.) also offers a dramatic account of the nation's struggle to establish political legitimacy, but with a sharper emphasis on the triumph of Jefferson and his populist ideals. As the 19th century dawned, Dunn explains, the war for independence may have been over, but the true outcome of the American Revolution was still very much in doubt. The choices in 1800 election could not have been starker: Federalist Adams championed the need for a strong central government that would forge an image of honor and national unity. The Republican Jefferson prized the rights of individuals to criticize their government and viewed the Federalist vision as a dangerous slide into monarchy and a reversal of the Revolution's ideals. Like Ferling, Dunn does a superb job of recounting the campaign, its cast of characters, and the election's bizarre conclusion in Congress. That tense standoff could have plunged the country into a disastrous armed conflict, Dunn explains, but instead cemented the legitimacy of peaceful, if not smooth, transfers of power. What sets Dunn's effort apart, however, is her earnest portrait of Jefferson, and his ideals. While careful to acknowledge his "blind spots" and internal conflicts, Dunn eloquently illustrates that it was Jefferson's faith in the ideals of the Revolution that galvanized in our nation "the legacy of a political culture energized by the creative conflict of opposing parties." 12 b&w photos. Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From Booklist
Some of our partisan pundits claim the next presidential election will be the most important since the Civil War, while others bemoan the "unprecedented" decline of civility in our political dialogue. Dunn, a scholar of eighteenth-century American history, has provided a valuable reminder of an election in which the stakes were truly enormous and the political vituperation was far more poisonous than the relatively moderate attacks heard today. The Federalists, led by incumbent president John Adams and Alexander Hamilton, were committed to a strong central government and the promotion of manufacturing, and they were suspicious of unrestrained democracy. The Democratic-Republicans, led by Thomas Jefferson, favored states' rights, agrarian interests, and a more open democratic political system. Dunn writes beautifully, and she captures the drama of events and the intensity of emotions on both sides while offering well-drawn portraits of the key players, although she probably oversimplifies the differences in the parties. Nevertheless, this is an excellent work that effectively explains this critical contest that shaped the history of the new republic. Jay Freeman
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
Review
Dunn simultaneously teaches and enthralls with her eloquent, five-sensed descriptions of the people and places that shaped our democracy.
Book Description
The election of 1800 was a revolution in the modern sense of a radical new beginning, but it was also a revolution in the sense of a return to the point of origin, to the principles of 1776. Federalist incumbent John Adams, and the elitism he represented, faced Republican Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson defeated Adams but, through a quirk in Electoral College balloting, tied with his own running mate, Aaron Burr. A constitutional crisis ensued. Congress was supposed to resolve the tie, but would the Federalists hand over power peacefully to their political enemies, to Jefferson and his Republicans? For weeks on end, nothing was less certain. The Federalists delayed and plotted, while Republicans threatened to take up arms. In a way no previous historian has done, Susan Dunn illuminates the many facets of this watershed moment in American history: she captures its great drama, gives us fresh, finely drawn portraits of the founding fathers, and brilliantly parses the enduring significance of the crisis. The year 1800 marked the end of Federalist elitism, pointed the way to peaceful power shifts, cleared a place for states" rights in the political landscape, and set the stage for the Civil War.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
1On the BrinkMurder, robbery, rape, adultery, and incest will all beopenly taught and practiced," predicted the Connecticut Courantin the fall of 1800. "The air will be rent with the criesof distress, the soil will be soaked with blood, and the nation blackwith crimes." Hardly more than a dozen years after the path-breakingConstitutional Convention in Philadelphia in 1787, the outlook forAmerican democracy suddenly appeared grim. There was "scarcely apossibility that we shall escape a Civil War," the Courant editorialized.The stability and prosperity of the young republic would abruptlyhalt if Thomas Jefferson, the vice president of the country and theleader of the Republicans, were to defeat President John Adams in theElectoral College in December 1800 — or so Federalists believed. Reasonable,dependable government seemed unlikely to survive the leadershipof a man who blithely held that "a little rebellion now and thenis a good thing," indeed, that rebellion was "a medicine necessary forthe sound health of government." Jefferson was a "fanatic," they exclaimed,as they drew lurid pictures of the starry-eyed visionary inlove with radical revolution, the "great arch priest of Jacobinism andinfidelity." The Virginian and his Republicans would turn America upsidedown, permitting the hoi polloi to govern the nation and unseatingthe wealthy social elite, long accustomed to wielding politicalpower and governing the nation. Jefferson"s election, wrote a Federalistin western Massachusetts, would produce "the most serious andalarming evils to this Country."Something had to be done to save the country from the "fangs ofJefferson," cried an anxious Alexander Hamilton. The Virginian"s radicalpromises of liberty, equal rights, and a redistribution of wealthand property, another Federalist declared, would introduce anarchy,which would surely terminate, as it had in France, in military despotism.People whispered about his "Congo Harem" and "dusky SallyHemings." They were incensed at his lack of respect for religion. It hadcome to light, an outraged Robert Troup reported to his friend RufusKing, the American minister in London, that Jefferson had once beenindiscreet enough to attend a public entertainment in Virginia on aSunday! What better proof of his "contempt for the Christian religionand his devotion to the new religion of France"?For months during the spring and summer of 1800, Federalist editorsthroughout the country had been fulminating against the Virginian,smearing him for being an atheist, a dreamer, a coward, a man entirelylacking in conscience, religion, and charity. "Do you believe inthe strangest of all paradoxes," demanded one of Jefferson"s foes in theNew York Commercial Advertiser, "that a spendthrift, a libertine, or anatheist is qualified to make your laws and govern you and your posterity?"Writers denounced him for seeking to poison the minds anddestroy the morals of the people while spreading the seeds of confusion,anarchy, and slavery throughout the United States. And not onlymorality, but economic prosperity too, they concluded, would suffer.Commerce would be plundered, farmers impoverished, and merchantsruined. "Shadows, clouds, and darkness rest on our future prospects,"wrote Troup dejectedly to his friend King.And then, in the middle of the summer heat, jolting news! Jeffersonwas dead! For more than a week in early July 1800, newspapers carriedshocking but unconfirmed reports of the Virginian"s sudden death.Sadly the Baltimore American relayed an "alarming and truly melancholyreport" that Thomas Jefferson "is no more." He seemed to havedied in a sudden manner, the Philadelphia True American informed itsstartled readers the following day. The next day, the Federalist newspaper,the Gazette of the United States, affirmed that "the report of Mr.Jefferson"s death appears to be entitled to some credit."Had the authorof the Declaration of Independence fallen ill — or been assassinated?"Three days later, the American Daily Advertiser still could not disprovethe "distressing information" that Jefferson had mysteriouslydied. "Old Tories" and "haters of our independence" were giving oneanother sly "winks of congratulations," reported the Republican newspaper,the Aurora.A week later, the story still remained in doubt. One Federalist, writingin the Connecticut Courant, explained tongue-in-cheek that it hadbeen a slow news week, and "some compassionate being," seeking toprovide the country with noteworthy news, had "very humanely killedMr. Jefferson." When the reports were exposed as false, Republicannewspapers took aim at the Federalists" glee. "The asses of aristocracy,fearing the paws of this republican lion, reported his death — becausethey wished him so!""I have never enjoyed better and more uninterrupted health," a vigorous,unperturbed Jefferson wrote upon receiving news of his own passing.His friend, Pierre Samuel Dupont de Nemours, had just written tohim to describe his great relief when he learned that the reports of Jefferson"sdeath were false. "I am much indebted to my enemies," Jeffersonresponded, "for proving by their recitals of my death, that I havefriends."The fifty-seven-year-old vice president was alive and well in Monticello.The presiding officer of the Senate, he had been delighted toleave Philadelphia in May of 1800 for his hilltop home in Virginia. TheSenate, he felt, did not have enough business to occupy it for a halfhoura day, while the beloved estate he had so carefully planned andcreated for himself fully occupied his mind and, as he said, gratified hisesthetic senses.In Monticello, he would wake at dawn, slip out of his alcove bed, andspend the first hours of the morning in the adjacent "cabinet," readingand working on his voluminous correspondence. Then came breakfastwith other members of the household at eight o"clock. After breakfastthere was time to give thought to the university he was planning, tocontemplate more alterations to his house, which was in a state of perpetualredesign and reconstruction, and to pursue his scientific inquiriesand inventions. Science, he told his friends and family, was his "passion,"whereas politics was a "duty" as well as a "torment."Letters streamed in from all over the country keeping him in closetouch with political events. Still, Jefferson wanted to be passive duringthese election months, trusting his friends and collaborators to campaignon his behalf — as well as to respond to the "calumnies of thenewspapers." The "only truth to be relied on in a newspaper," hequipped, was contained in its advertisements. Surveying his land onhorseback, attending to his crops, playing with his grandchildren, conversingwith his guests, he was content to spend his time in his refugeof mountains, forests, rivers, gardens, books, inventions, and ideas."Is this the violent democrat, the vulgar demagogue, the bold atheist. . . I have so often heard denounced by the federalists?" wondered acaptivated Margaret Bayard Smith, the wife of the editor of the NationalIntelligencer, when she first met Jefferson in December of 1800."Can this man so meek and mild, yet dignified in his manners, with avoice so soft and low, with a countenance so benignant and intelligent,can he be that daring leader of a faction, that disturber of the peace,that enemy of all rank and order?"But Federalists were not as enchanted by the Virginian"s courtlymanners, pensive eyes, and gentle, lilting voice. His intellectual statureand distinguished public service — author of the Declaration of Independence,member of the Virginia House of Burgesses at the age oftwenty-six, wartime governor of Virginia, delegate to the ContinentalCongress, minister to France, secretary of state under George Washington,vice president under John Adams — left them unimpressed. Perhapsin the little republic of St. Marino Jefferson"s political "experiments"could be tolerated, observed Charles Carroll of Carrollton, butin America the Virginian"s "fantastic tricks" would most assuredly dissolvethe union.Carroll and his patrician Federalist friends not only wanted to remainat the helm, from which they had so ably steered the country towardstability and prosperity, but they believed that they were entitledto remain there. Clinging to the myth of the virtue of the elite few, theywere convinced that only they possessed a deep commitment to publicservice and an unerring sense of the common good.How could the nationsurvive and flourish without them, "the wise & good," asked AlexanderHamilton, one of the Federalist leaders. "Obedience and submissionto the powers that be," a Pennsylvania congressman declared, "isthe duty of all." In private, the Federalist governor of New York, JohnJay, was just as blunt. Conflating power and property, he candidlyconfided to a friend that "those who own the country ought to participatein the government of it."Oddly, the pedigreed, patrician Jefferson was one of those "owners"of the country — wealthier and from a more distinguished family thanFederalists like Adams and the self-made Hamilton. And yet Jeffersonsought to challenge their hold on power — their "strident exclusivism,"in the words of historians Stanley Elkins and Eric McKitrick — andeven challenge the legacy of the great George Washington. The fatherof the country and his closest disciples, Federalists believed, had createdand bequeathed to America an orderly society and well-functioninginstitutions. "Our government is as free as it is capable of being —the country as happy as a government can make it," they crowed."What more do you want? Will you grasp at a shadow, and lose thesubstance?"What principles guided Jefferson and his so-called Republicans? TheJeffersonian brand of republicanism, Federalists scoffed, simply meant"an essential want of integrity, and an unprincipled pursuit of whateverpromotes the interests, or gratifies the passions of the individuals."In short, Republicans were motivated only by base "self-interest"whereas Federalists were proud to be anti-individualists, committed tothe notion of the common good of all.Violence and anarchy would spread through the nation, a "ChristianFederalist" warned in a political pamphlet, if Jefferson won the presidency.Serious, thoughtful men could not doubt, he wrote, that if Jeffersonwas elected, he and his Jacobin cronies would trample and explode"those morals which protect our lives from the knife of theassassin — which guard the chastity of our wives and daughters fromseduction and violence — defend our property from plunder and devastation,and shield our religion from contempt and profanation." Justas wild, radical Jacobins and their guillotines had transformed Franceinto a vast cemetery, Republicans too would leave in their wake a nationin ruins. By what right were these brazen Republicans calling intoquestion the precious status quo?Surely in a democracy in which the people were sovereign, the Republicans,though political outsiders, had the right to criticize and opposethose who governed. And yet, some Federalists proposed that "afew bold strokes" be used to silence all opposition to government.But Republicans refused to be silent. They offered voters a forcefulplatform and an aggressive agenda for change. They blasted John Jay"srecent one-sided treaty with Great Britain in which the English hadmade few concessions to American claims. They attacked Adams andthe other Federalists for passing the repressive Sedition Act in 1798,designed to smother opposition to the Federalist regime. They denouncedthe standing federal army, warning that it could be used toquash domestic dissent. They condemned the dispatching of federaltroops in 1799 to crush a tax revolt — Fries"s Rebellion — in Pennsylvania.Republicans pounded home their message: a simple government,low taxes, state militias instead of a standing army, repeal of the SeditionAct, and free schools. In the South and the burgeoning West, theyattracted voters by offering security for slavery, access to new unsettledlands, and markets for their agricultural products. In New England,their democratic message appealed to voters with aspirations of upwardmobility.Most of all, Republicans criticized the Federalist "monocrats" forupholding the rights of the few and ignoring the rights of the many, forcatering to the social and financial elite, for disdaining the people anddemocracy itself. Even Federalist Gouverneur Morris, the former ministerto France and now the junior senator from New York, concededthat his Federalist colleagues had given Republicans reason to believethat they wished to establish a monarchy. The Republicans" affinity forinclusion contrasted sharply with Federalist elitism. The election, declaredMassachusetts Republican Elbridge Gerry, was a battle betweenthe people and a party "utterly devoted to amonarchical system."A Republicanvictory was essential, insisted Governor James Monroe ofVirginia, to restore to Americans the principles of 1776, to "secure to usforever those liberties that were acquired by our revolution, whichought never to have been put in danger."By the late fall of 1800, most of the electors to the Electoral College hadbeen selected. State legislatures had either chosen their presidentialelectors themselves or permitted voters to choose them in statewide ordistrictwide elections. In some states, it was winner-take-all.The Electoral College was an indirect and largely undemocraticmethod for choosing a president. At the Constitutional Convention, ithad been less the product of consensus or compromise than of delegatessimply throwing up their hands in frustration. Indeed, no subjectat the Philadelphia convention had perplexed the delegates more thanthe mode of choosing the president. Three times delegates had approvedmotions that the executive be chosen by the national legislature— the equivalent of a parliamentary system — but toward the end ofthe convention they were back to square one, having rejected everyproposal for electing the executive. A Committee on Detail finally settledon the system of electors, and, by that time, the other fatigued andimpatient delegates were in no mood to revisit the question again.Now, after months of campaigning, it appeared that Federalistswould win all of New England"s electoral votes, along with those ofNew Jersey, and would split the votes of Pennsylvania, North Carolinaand Maryland, gaining 65 votes. Republicans had won all the electoralvotes of New York State and most of the South: they too could counton 65 votes. It was unclear for whom South Carolina would cast its 8electoral votes."This is the day appointed for the election of President and VicePresident," Troup wrote to King from New York on a cool Decembermorning. On that day, December 3, 1800, presidential electors all metin their respective states and cast their votes. "The calculations now arethat Adams and Pinckney will outrun Jefferson & Burr," Troup informedhis friend. But he was wrong.Official Electoral College results from the outlying states trickled inslowly, but there was little doubt that Republicans had won. Jeffersonseemed to have 73 votes; John Adams, 65. The mood of the country hadswung around. On December 15, the National Intelligencer reported avictory for Republicans — and for democracy: "The storm, which hasso long raged in the political world, has at length subsided," the Intelligencerdeclared, encouraging Americans to celebrate an event that was"auspicious to the destinies of the world."But December 15 found Jefferson brooding. To his running mateAaron Burr he revealed his doubts about the outcome of the race —not questioning that he had defeated Adams, but troubled that oneparticular thing had been "badly managed" and "left to hazard." Heand Burr might have each received an equal number of votes, creatinga tie — and a crisis.The Electoral College"s voting system was deeply flawed. Accordingto Article II, section 1 of the Constitution, each state could appoint anumber of electors equal to the total number of senators and representativesof that state. Each elector was entitled to cast 2 votes, but therewas no way to differentiate between the votes cast for a presidentialcandidate and those for a vice-presidential candidate. Electors couldindicate a clear preference for the man they wanted to be presidentonly if they all agreed that at least one elector would cast 1 of his 2 electoralvotes for a man who had no chance of winning. But Jeffersonworried that that had not happened.It appeared, he reported to Burr, that Republican electors mighthave cast all their ballots for Jefferson and Burr, forgetting to withholdat least 1 vote from Burr so that Jefferson would be the undisputed victor."I never once asked whether arrangements had been made to preventso many from dropping votes intentionally," he confided to theNew Yorker, bitterly reproaching himself for his own "passivity" andnegligence. Still, he ended his letter on a positive note, anticipatingtheir inauguration day: "We shall of course see you before the 4th ofMarch."Now a worried Jefferson recognized the "probable equality" of thetwo Republican candidates, and by the 19th, his unease had intensified,becoming distress. Jefferson and Burr had each received 73 votes.DisciplinedRepublican electors had toed the party line — too much! Thetie, Jefferson reported to Madison, had "produced great dismay andgloom on the republican gentlemen here, and equal exultation on thefederalists."In the case of a tie in the Electoral College, the choice, accordingto the Constitution, would be thrown into the House of Representatives— the lame-duck House controlled by Federalists, not the newlyelected Republican House — for a special tie-breaking presidentialelection in which each state would cast 1 vote, a system even more undemocraticthan that of the Electoral College. The House, however,would not begin the process until February 11. And so a tense waiting— and maneuvering — period began."Federalists will have to Choose among Rotten Apples," a despondentpolitician grumbled to Alexander Hamilton. But while some wereresigned to relinquishing power to their enemies, others predictedchaos and violence. An alliance of "men of desperate fortunes" stood atthe threshold of power, wishing "for nothing so much as a revolution,"warned the conservative Gazette of the United States. "It is fallacious,therefore, to imagine that we shall experience only a change of men. . . .We are now in the high road which has uniformly led to despotism,through the dark valley of anarchy." Some overwrought Federalistspredicted that Jefferson would soon call upon France and Napoleon"ssoldiers to invade the United States.And some were determined not to take their loss lying down. OnDecember 19, Jefferson heard reports about a Federalist plot to"stretch" the Constitution and steal the presidency. Federalists wereopenly declaring their intention to prevent an election, he informedMadison. If Federalists could prolong the deadlock beyond the expirationof Adams"s term on March 4, the country would be without apresident, and then all bets were off. The Constitution said nothingabout such an eventuality. Federalists were seeking to "reverse what hasbeen understood to have been the wishes of the people," a gloomy Jeffersonwrote. "This opens upon us an abyss, at which every sincere patriotmust shudder."A week later more pieces of the plot came to light. The "feds," Jeffersonwrote toMadison, intended to pass a bill giving executive power eitherto John Jay, whom they would first reappoint chief justice, or toJohn Marshall, John Adams"s secretary of state. Their backup plan wasto let the presidency "devolve" on the Federalist president pro tem ofthe Senate. Could Federalists be capable of such a "Degree of boldnessas well as wickedness?" wondered a horrified James Monroe.The tie in the Electoral College presented Federalists with an unexpectedgolden opportunity. They could delay the transition, or betterstill, block it altogether. The Sedition Act had already compromised theright of citizens to criticize and oppose the men in power. The Federalists"refusal to let Republicans govern would constitute just one morestep in that same direction.Still, how could Federalists convince themselves — and the Americanpublic — that it was not a major blow to democratic process andto the principles of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitutionto impede the election of the people"s choice? Theodore Sedgwickof Massachusetts, the Federalist Speaker of the House, admittedthat the majority"s clear intention had been to elect Jefferson. But, heasked in a letter to Alexander Hamilton, why had this preference beengiven to Jefferson? Sedgwick believed that Jefferson had won becausehe was a fiery democrat, crafty, opportunistic, servilely devoted to revolutionaryFrance. "Ought we then," he concluded, "to respect thepreference which is given to this man from such motives, and by suchfriends?" If the majority was mistaken, poorly informed, or misguided,and if its judgment was so flawed as to harm the nation, Sedgwick reasoned,its decisions should be declared null and void. He insisted thatthe Constitution had intended elections "to secure to prominent talentsand virtue the first honors of our country." The virtuous elite hadthe obligation to direct — or disqualify — the majority. Such a coursestruck Sedgwick as justified, rational, and wise.Most Federalists were stunned that the American people had thrownthe party of Washington, Adams, and Hamilton out of power. Wouldthey — the men who had created the republic and governed it so successfullysince its founding — meekly accept an unjust, undeserved defeat?"Resistancemust be bold, determined and unshrinking, or it is ineffectual,"declared the Gazette of the United States.But neither would Republicans shrink from confrontation. Theywere not about to let their victory be snatched away from them. Theystood ready to fight. "We are resolv"d never to yield," one Republicanwrote to James Madison, "and sooner hazard every thing than to preventthe voice and wishes of people being carried into effect." Federalistusurpation would signal the start of another revolution and even a civilwar, predicted Virginia political activist John Beckley. "If any manshould be thus appointed President by law and accept the office,"threatened Albert Gallatin, the leader of Republicans in the Houseof Representatives, "he would instantaneously be put to death." In theevent of a Federalist attempt to install one of their own in the presidency,the middle states would arm, Jefferson declared, emphasizingthat "no such usurpation, even for a single day, should be submittedto."The fundamental consensus about the Constitution and the unionwas collapsing. During the turmoil, Jefferson wrote that his "sincerewish" was to see the government "brought back to its republican principles."And yet he and the other great architects of the republic, onboth sides of the political spectrum, appeared equally willing to dissolvethe federal union and institutions that were their masterpiece."There is nothing more common," wrote Dr. Benjamin Rush of Philadelphiain 1786, "than to confound the terms of the American Revolutionwith those of the late American war. The American war is over;but this is far from being the case with the American revolution. Onthe contrary, nothing but the first act of the great drama is closed. It remainsyet to establish and perfect our new forms of government; andto prepare the principles, morals, and manners of our citizens, forthese forms of government, after they are established and brought toperfection."In 1786, Rush captured the significance of the dilemma that wouldconfront Americans in 1800. The American Revolution could not beequated solely with the War of Independence. On the contrary, therewere crucial political transformations and social reforms to come tomake that Revolution complete. Indeed, before the winter of 1800, theRevolution had been proceeding successfully from stage to stage —from the war of 1776 to the Constitutional Convention of 1787 to theratification of the Bill of Rights in 1791. But then, in the 1790s, thingsseemed to go awry. It was a decade of turmoil and conflict: profoundideological disagreements in the nation as well as inWashington"s owncabinet; pressure from the top to maintain the authority of the nation"selite leaders and populist movements from the bottom demanding amore open and inclusive political arena; two clashing visions — agriculturalin the South and commercial in the North — of the nation"sfuture; the rise of embryonic political parties in an atmosphere of hostilityto parties; attempts to undermine the Bill of Rights and quash oppositionto elected leaders; and forceful assertions of states" rights.Adding to the brew was the toxic enmity among the founders themselves,the band of brothers who, only a dozen years earlier, had workedso harmoniously together.Now, at the beginning of the new century, the colliding ideologiesand personalities congealed into an acute electoral and constitutionalcrisis. It would be the revolutionary drama"s final act. In 1796, powerhad been easily transferred from one Federalist to another, from outgoingpresident George Washington to his vice president, John Adams.But now, would Federalists willingly and peacefully hand power over totheir political enemies, to these Republicans, men whom they not onlyloathed but also considered dangerous to the republic, to private property,to economic growth and a strong federal government, to everythingthey respected and cherished?Why, after all, should the nation"s distinguished, successful leadersrecognize an insurgency of homespun zealots and upstarts? Whywould the elite willingly transfer power to a populist party? Whyshould they recognize the legitimacy of the opposition? Which headsof state had ever voluntarily ceded power to their enemies? The Constitutionhad enshrined checks and balances, not a party system. In whatland had two fiercely opposing parties agreed to respect each otherand alternately govern? Surely a coup d"état or an assassination wasmore in keeping with Western political tradition. Even in the twenty-first century, elected leaders often refuse to step aside and allow vot-ers to choose a successor; parties that win elections are often outlawedby would-be dictators. Again and again, budding democraciesare quashed, their constitutions suspended.Jefferson, Madison, Gallatin, and others fully grasped the frighteningdimensions of the crisis. A few Federalists candidly acknowledgedtheir party"s malice. "Understand that the democrats in Congress are ina rage for having acted with good faith," one Federalist explained toRufus King. So polarized were the two parties, so severe the strain betweenthem, that their differences appeared unbridgeable.In the cold, overcast winter of 1800, the federal republic tottered onthe brink, its future shrouded in a grim, menacing fog.Copyright © 2004 by Susan Dunn. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company.
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