Dinner at Mr. Jefferson's: Part 1

Among the most insolent actions one can commit, eavesdropping is the most informative. Especially when you're eavesdropping on three of America's greatest minds at dinner.

Let me explain.

Our nation, fresh from the battlefields, was composed of the thinnest fabric, and any slip or collision would tear it to shreds. The dream was, for every citizen, that the officials high in office would peacefully blend together, their conversations filled with compromise and congeniality. When my cousin, Mr. Jefferson, met Secretary Alexander Hamilton, the awakening was rude. Jefferson had been the latecomer, as we all had already assumed our positions within the new government, and were busy tending to our stations. In the early fall, we were still stumbling about, attempting to gain a sense of whom we really are in these new offices, and what their meaning is in this complex form of government. By the time Thomas accepted the position of Secretary of State, General Washington had already been without one for almost a year (of course, Secretary Hamilton was on top of and handling foreign affairs in general, but that's a different story altogether.) The dilemma of who was to be the Secretary of State had plagued him, as he was in hung in the balance between the expertise of Mr. John Jay, an experienced diplomat and statesman, and Mr. Jefferson, who possessed all the same qualities. The issue was solved when Mr. Jay kindly asked to be Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. It took Thomas almost five months to accept, and almost another month to arrive in the temporary capital in New York City.
He did not miss the opportunity to make himself at home as much as possible for as long as New York City was the capital. After deciding on a modest home at 75 Maiden Lane, after desperately scavenging for one on the intersecting street of "the Broad Way," [original spelling retained], he began extensive renovation.
Here is where the present day location is. One can find now there a restaurant and a salon, as well as an abstract piece of art in the center of the road which still continues to play with my mind.
In relation to important places, he keeps near the presidential mansion on the Broad Way, but really missed with having easy accessibility to Fraunces Tavern, the politically "hip place" in town.


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He immediately cast his "spell" over the place, spending more money on one feature alone than was the annual rent (cabinetwork- because intricately carved cabinets are a real necessity in the world of politics). His grand additions were no help to his collection of debt, something that wasn't his top priority.

But enough about my cousin and his lavish spending. There was another typical, large-mansion dinner, and I intended to make Mr. Jefferson familiar with his colleagues. I don't know where I went wrong, but that ball was the beginning of one the greatest feuds in the history of democratic republics (however scarce that might be). After several pleasant introductions with Mr. Maclay and Mr. Knox, I found Secretary Hamilton at the cocktail bar devouring shrimp in the most civilized way possible. They must have been some pretty good shrimp, for I timed it, and he consumed at least five shrimp a minute. We politely waited nearby as he finished his conversation with Mr. Duer, but when it seemed they were about to plunge into the financial standing of Rhode Island’s central bank, I immediately stepped in.
“Ah, excuse us, gentlemen.”
“Good evening, Mr. Randolph, Mr. Jefferson.”
They both deeply bowed.
“Mr. Randolph, I don’t believe you have yet introduced me to this fine gentleman here.”
Colonel Hamilton looked keenly at Mr. Jefferson with scrutiny. I had given him a basic report on Hamilton’s status, history, and achievements.
“Why, yes, this is the esteemed Thomas Jefferson, the present Secretary of State and author of the Declaration of Independence.”
I had a tendency to lay it on.
“It is an honor, Mr. Jefferson, to be in your esteemed presence.”
He bowed again, and seemed to look through to his soul.
“As it is in yours, Mr. Secretary.”
He bowed as well, and had a bit of difficulty looking at him. While Hamilton was at least several inches beneath Thomas, he was as intimidating as hawk to a mouse. Sometimes, the ceremony of conversation, with all the bows and what nots, irked me extremely.
“May I ask how you are enjoying your stay in the city?”
“It is comparable to honorable exile from one’s family and affairs, but the thought of serving one’s nation can never be diminished by personal feelings.”
Hamilton pondered the thought, seeking the deeper meaning, and finally replied,
“Much agreed. I would suppose that the hustle and bustle, coupled with our roaming pigs, is a bit of rude awakening from your pastoral retreat at Monticello.”
The night continued forth as so, and one would have never guessed they were to become bitter enemies. But I foresaw the result. They were complete opposites, one dynamic to the point of nausea, and the other, “A Man of the People,” would who inevitably come to resent the other’s federal views.


I suppose I ought to furthermore explain this deep feuding that held the president in knots over the uncertainty of the result. Despite the pleasant evening they spent together, Jefferson, along with his diminutive friend James Madison, came to a joint certainty that Hamilton was a monarchist at heart, and the only obstacle Hamilton encountered on his path to making America a lean, green, angry machine (a new phrase I heard on the Senate floor regarding infectious plant life) was the scheming duo. This, of course, posed great danger to America’s finances: did the financial system without Hamilton mean collapse? Of course, I was assigned the very unceremonious task of being the mediator between the two, ending up nothing more than a distant call for resolution. They denounced one another in newspapers with so much venom I felt as if they were taking out their deepest, personal guilt, secrets, dislikes, and animosity, coupled with any symptoms of depression or suicidal thoughts they may have experienced in their lifetime. Which truly posed an ironic situation in my head. A least a week ago, before he began his scathing attacks, he sent me a letter:
I have preserved through life a resolution never to write in a public paper without subscribing my name, and to engage openly an adversary who does not let himself be seen, is staking all against nothing. The indecency too of newspaper squabbling between two public ministers, besides my own sense of it, has drawn something like an injunction from another quarter.
As if I didn’t know Philip Freneau existed.
Despite the president’s futile attempts and desperate pleading, coupled with my ant-like position in their arguments, the verbal assaults, newspaper venom, mud-pie slinging, and general animosity continued until what I predicted would be the resignation of either, or both, but even then, Jefferson would attempt to use his conservative tactics to frame Hamilton as a monarchist and scheming, belligerent, fraudulent politician and official. I was surprised they had not yet challenged one another to a duel.

At that point in time, two issues gripped the hearts and minds of our politicians: Secretary Hamilton’s Assumption Plan, which was to assume all the state debts, which coupled with national debt for a grand total off $79 million dollars, to then hand out bonds, furthermore giving investors the power to gain interest while at the same time aiding the government financially, and where the capital ought to be. The second issue was especially touchy, as the Massachusetts senators and representatives want it in Boston, the New Yorkers don’t want us to leave, the Pennsylvanians are attempting to revive Philadelphia, and so forth. The gentlemen of the South are especially indignant that the capital should be in the South in relation with the fact that the capital had always been in the North. I personally believed it should be smack dab in the middle. It is speculated that a location on the Potomac, near Georgetown, is favored by some and the President. Some allege that Washington favors it so that he and his properties nearby may personally benefit from it. Thomas, and Hamilton, have been trying to combine the two problems, which have opened an abyss on the House floor, and compromise them, which never really seemed to work. Thus, the debatings continued, escalating with excitement and depressing with frustration and the realization that the light at the end of the tunnel was a microscopic speck. Then, IT occurred. IT is the codename for the first of two of the most defining meetings in American history (this is my opinion because I am living only in the beginning). It is also the beginning of my eavesdropping spree.
IT occurred as so:
I happened to be passing the President’s house one day on the other side of the street, when I noticed Hamilton and Jefferson speaking. I knew the occasion was one of great importance as it appeared that they were not arguing, but rather the latter listening to the other. I quickly proceeded to the end of the street, made it to the other side, and hide behind the heavily pollinated bushes next to the President’s house. It was probably one of the more physically challenging experiences I’ve had, and, oh, how I wished to be that bee hovering so intently above my ear. Hamilton looked like he had come into the abyss of failed assumption plans and out. He had dark rims on his eyes, making him a bit comical. His hair had taken a life of its own, either that, or he fired his hairdresser. He even appeared older. His face was pale and drawn, a frown characterizing it all. It spoke of gloominess, depression, doom, isolation, and lack of hope. His eyes were as empty and hollow as a barrel, their usual sparkle and excitement lost. He frantically, yet calmly, spoke with Mr. Jefferson, who actually appeared to be taking some interest in what he was saying for once. He seemed to understand the serious nature of the conversation.
The bee was really bothering me.
“Ah.. ah.. ah-CHOO!”
They looked around for a moment, and resumed their conversation.
“As I am sure you understand, this stuff of this plan is essential to sustaining the Union. The gentlemen of New England are an especial worry in this sense. They are so determined to have the bill passed, considering the numerous funds they spent, that they have gone so far as to consider it a essential condition for the preservation. It is the apex of my career as I see it, and its very essence. Its failure will force my resignation. It is especially significant to its passage that the gentlemen of the South should be persuaded… perhaps by your sound opinions and thoughts?”
“I understand the urgency, Mr. Secretary, but time away from this land has impaired me to be in touch with its occurrences.”
They continued their conversation, and soon after parted. I so much excited that I stumbled out of the bushes, and scared the living daylights out of Mr. Jefferson. I timed him, and I believe his airtime was ten seconds.
“Mr. Randolph! How you… uh… oh, where did you come from?”
“That shouldn’t concern you. Tell me, what are you going to do about it? It seems he relies on you.”
He gave me a look of sheer death, and roughly drew me aside into an alleyway.
“What you heard is between you, me, and Colonel Hamilton.”
“Don’t forget the bee.”
He stared at me for a brief second, and continued.
“The state of our Union, and its future hangs in the balance.”
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
“I am persuaded that men of sound heads and honest views needed nothing more than mutual understanding to enable them to unite in some measures which might enable us to get along. In other words, on the consideration of the situation of things, I thought the first steps towards some conciliation of views would be to bring Mr. Madison and Colonel Hamilton to a friendly discussion of the subject. I shall immediately write to each to come and dine with me the tomorrow. We should probably be alone.”
“Agreed.”
“But it is solely between you, me, and Colonel Hamilton.”
I gave him a look.
“Yes, and the bee. But do you understand?”
“Uh-huh.”

Did Somebody Just Say... National Bank?

Good evening fellow citizens and patriots,
At our last encounter we saw the foundation of our nation being put down, constructed of laws and justice, a democratic republic. In our ventures, through our efforts, and with your support, our Union, as fragile as it might be in structure, has arisen to the challenge and is ready to take its place in the world as a sovereign power. I proudly present to you the United States of America.
It is once again I, Edmund Randolph of the state of Virginia (please note that we have deferred to being politically correct in naming our individualized territories) I write to you once again from Philadelphia, and as I do, I peer out through my window onto the bustling street below. Philadelphia is as vibrant at night as it is in day. I reminisce of my days at the Convention. The mess of thoughts has its plentiful share of sour ones (blasted crickets and daytime friends the flies) and some memorable ones too (Mr. Madison adopts quite a festive mood when he relishes his wine) I recall the meetings at the taverns and in the alleyway (nothing to be suspicious of) and the raucous debates (it's a miracle I have any hearing left at all) In the years succeeding that summer, I found myself once again caught in the cyclone that was politics. Once you've got a Constitution, you must implement it: and what a better person to head the operation than the General himself, General George Washington. Or rather, should I say, president? Indeed, the General was inaugurated in eighty-nine (with plenty of witnesses) and so the national government was up and running... slightly. The president was without a council to advise him in the perilous first steps of our infant nation. Therefore, by the authority vested in us by the Constitution, a collection of department heads was assembled by the man himself, a picky process, for he of all people would not pluck the random lawyer off the streets and call him important. So, in the end of it all, he is aided by the brilliance of Colonel Alexander Hamilton as his Treasury Secretary, a fellow soldier of mine in the days of patriotic fervor; blessed by the strategic thinking of his Secretary of War General Henry Knox, also a battlefield colleague of mine; and lastly Mr. Jefferson as Secretary of State, who has recently returned from his diplomatic mission in France. He has much changed since the last time we spoke. It appears he has adopted many of the mannerisms of the French aristocrat, but I pray he shall realize that nobility of such a degree will not be much favored by the people. Then there's me. Attorney General and a Federalist. What I would like to document on this paper of my life in this position so far shall begin with our most recent meeting. The meetings are generally rare, for the President prefers an encounter of two, should the matter he would need to discuss happened to be pertaining to their respective department. But in one our full-fledged meetings, which can be quite a spectacle, was discussing Hamilton's plan for a national bank. So here's how it went:
I come strutting along down the street like a peacock, quite proud of my new clothing straight from the merchant, and up the steps to the President's House. Originally the house of Mr. Morris, the President and his family of three now occupy it along with whatever servants or such they might have accompany them. But the guest bedrooms are never desolate. Whether it be the traveling lawyer or a senator, there is always a gaggle of squawking company to keep Lady Washington busy. Speaking of her, being the President's Lady, she has got quite a load on her hands. From managing a household (with which she has plenty of experience) she must also oversee dinner preparations and the like for the torrent of guests. Not to mention her two grandchildren, who accompanied them to Philadelphia. You have Washy and Nelly, two young, rambunctious children with an annoying parrot to keep them entertained. That blasted bird has mistaken my shoulder as his necessary.
But I digress. I am welcomed by the President's aide, whose name escapes me, and am shown down the hall. Vice President Adams is already there, fixing his stocking as usual, and Mr. Jefferson, who takes an immediate and profound interest in his shoe buckles when I approached. Sometimes I wonder if the man is petrified by my presence. I am, after all, his cousin. After a long, awkward silence in which everyone avoided the gaze of the person next to them, or in Mr. Jefferson's case, took to studying his shoe buckles like an unknown specimen, Colonel Hamilton arrived, his penetrating gaze speaking of unparalleled brilliance.
"Gentlemen," he said as he approached us, "you seem to have forgotten that you three speak the same language. Indeed, your shoe buckles seem to belie their extraordinary contents."
He looked at Jefferson, who evermore continued to examine those gold decorations as politely possible when awkwardness couldn't be overcome. So after some more awkward moments, the president appeared fro, his study. Although we may have known each other for many years, I am continually in awe. He stands like a ramrod with a face as silent and still as stone. He possessed the great gift of silence.
"Gentlemen," and he made a deep bow. There was a collective 'sir,' several bows, and we proceeded on to the dining room. Shamefully of me, this was my favorite part of the meetings, when we got food. Lady Washington's roast beef is something to look forward to.
"It appears that Colonel Hamilton... Has a proposal for us today?" the General inquired.
"Why, yes! None other than for a national bank!"
I swore I could hear Thomas gasp. When I looked at him, he was in utter shock.
"A... Na-na... National bank?" he whispered.
"You heard me correctly, Mr. Jefferson! Backed by gold and silver!" The room was silent. A national bank? Now that was something we had yet to experience. During and after e war years, each state had its own currency, much less a national bank! This prospect was stunning to me, although I don’t why. But I knew why Thomas’ jaw was on ground about this one. He analyzed the Constitution like a student dissecting a frog. He had probably this bank to be a contradiction.

“May I make an objection please?” He was doing his best to hold down the fiery barrage he was ready to unleash upon Hamilton.

“What bothers you, Mr. Jefferson? Is the idea daunting?” What a sly sneak, mocking my cousin like that.

“The mere idea of a national bank is unconstitutional in its nature.” What’d I tell you?

“Oh, silly Mr. Jefferson! You haven’t even heard my proposal yet!” With that, he snapped a piece of paper out of the inside of his coat, and flipped it open. He donned his eyeglasses, cleared his throat, and began to read.

“First off, a great inconvenience plagues us all as we travel from state to state. In Rhode Island, we find one certain coin, and its neighbor Massachusetts has a an entirely different one. If we are to be one unified country, we might as well have on unified currency. That’s just one aspect of the plan. The second feature is to control the national debt. By my calculations, that debt is at $50 million. As you shall see momentarily, the bank is created with the concept of… unity in mind. Funds, taxes, and the like will be handled by this institution.”

There was a great silence in the room. The number was just unfathomable. $50 million?

“It’s unconstitutional.”

Every head turned toward Mr. Jefferson.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Jefferson?”

“It’s unconstitutional. If you take a good scan of the document, it is not stated anywhere that Congress has any right or authority to create this… national bank.”

Hamilton gave it a good long thought.

“Mr. Jefferson, do you recognize the term, ‘implied powers’?”

“Not really…”

“Well then, we learn something new each and every day. Implied powers, when used in this situation, suggests that the Constitution, while it does not directly state the authority to create a national bank, it does give the federal government power to do anything that they deem essential for this nation. That thing, essential to our very survival, is a national bank, the unifying and balancing force of this nation’s economy. That, and I am sure you will agree, is very constitutional.”

Thomas was deeply stumped. Where was James Madison when you needed him? Ah, but here he was. Just as Hamilton finished his stinging defense, Madison made a surprise visit. He took a bow and said, “Colonel Hamilton, you really ought to learn how to talk like a real gentleman, not like a riled up drunkard. I could hear from down the hall… and I heard something like a national bank."

Here we go again. You see, Madison is notorious among us Federalists for being in cahoots with Jefferson from the very beginning, and there is no doubt in my mind he will side with Jefferson about this whole bank business.

“It’s very true, Mr. Madison. The bank will unify America and reserve us a place as a sovereign power amongst the greats!”

Madison looked at him skeptically.

Washington suddenly came to the aide of his favorite subordinate, “It’s based off the Bank of England, and England appears to have a very secure and stable-“

“AHA! You see? That sneaky fool wants to turn this nation into a monarchy! This is merely the first step!” Madison was up and out of his chair. “Can’t you see, Mr. President? That man is manipulating you? Don’t be blind to the situation!”

The President, cool and calm as in most situations, replied, “Mr. Madison, such epithets and allegations will not be welcomed during this meeting. As much as you think that being of such a high age may deteriorate my ability to comprehend, I thoroughly debunk that with the evidence that the men surrounding me at this table are all of pristine credentials. If you wish to continue with such insolent comments, please make them known outside of this room.”

Madison knew better than to deal with Washington.

“Well, if you would excuse me, Mr. President,” and with that, he took his hat and exited the building.

“Colonel, make your proposal to Congress. It appears to be our only hope.”

The meeting was at an end.

Afterwards, as we were leaving, Thomas pulled me to the side.

“We cannot let this bill even enter the consideration of the congressman. The banking industry is an infinity of successive felonious larcenies. Madison was right. Colonel Hamilton, just as he attempted to block Mr. Adams’ way to the presidency, will now endeavor to move us towards a monarchy, modeled right off Great Britain. You have as much influence as me. In the best interests of your country, join us in the opposition.”

“Thomas, I cannot and will not become involved in this political quagmire of flaring tempers and contemptuous feelings. I am resolved to be a neutral between you two as the President is between England and France. I am sorry, but I just can’t descend to such a level as to bicker continuously.” I knew I had made the right decision, but the wrong thing to say. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I could see the hurt in Thomas’ eyes.

“Then I shan’t bother you about the matter again.” He was very right about that.