Back MY THEODOSIA
Chapters (32)
  1. Title Page
  2. Table of Contents
  3. Copyright
  4. Epigraph
  5. Author's Note
  6. CHAPTER ONE
  7. CHAPTER TWO
  8. CHAPTER THREE
  9. CHAPTER FOUR
  10. CHAPTER FIVE
  11. CHAPTER SIX
  12. CHAPTER SEVEN
  13. CHAPTER EIGHT
  14. CHAPTER NINE
  15. CHAPTER TEN
  16. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  17. CHAPTER TWELVE
  18. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  20. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  21. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  22. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  23. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  24. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

There was nothing actually unconstitutional in trying to take advantage of the existing method of voting. Separate ballots were cast in the Electoral College for the candidates for President and Vice-President, but the candidate receiving the highest vote was chosen as President. If by some fortunate circumstance the vice-presidential candidate should receive more votes than the presidential one, the positions of Jefferson and Aaron would automatically be reversed. Nothing either heinous or unconstitutional, and yet the country at large, both Federalist and Republican, persisted in acting as though there were. Heated orators held forth on 'the will of the people,' and the tragic consequences of a 'possible miscarriage of justice,' until the public gradually convinced itself that Jefferson must be the only, the divinely appointed, choice.

The returns trickled in through November and December, delayed by weather conditions and different voting days throughout the States. It became increasingly apparent that the result was to be as inconclusive as it was anticlimactic. The votes for Jefferson and Burr showed a tic.

Aaron sat tight awaiting developments, guarding his speech and his writing, while most of the press, led by Hamilton's New York Evening Post, exploded into outraged editorials.

Aaron kept very quiet, but Jefferson did not. He wrote to his rival an extraordinary letter barbed with distrust and fury, and in a calmer tone he wrote to James Madison.

'...The election in South Carolina has, in some measure, decided the great contest, though as yet we do not know the actual votes of Tennessee, Kentucky, and Vermont, yet we believe the votes to be, on the whole, Jefferson 73, Burr 73....

There will be an absolute parity between the two Republican candidates. This has produced great dismay and gloom...'

Jefferson was right. There was indeed dismay, and with it gloom. It disconcerted Aaron to discover the rising strength of public opinion against him.

It was declared that he had been intriguing with the Federalists and was a traitor to his party. Well, what if he had? thought Aaron. A judicious tempering of sentiments was always allowable. Even the great and noble Mr. Hamilton, who now cried 'Shame!' had not been above circulating a secret pamphlet vilifying his own party leader, John Adams, when it suited his purpose.

Never given to self-pity or sickly introspection, Aaron was not crushed by the hullabaloo against him. He accepted it stoically and retired into dignified silence. Never at any time in his career did he trouble to explain his actions. What was done was done, be it right or wrong, and recapitulations bored him.