Jefferson vs. Eaton
I do not however insinuate that Mr. Jefferson is a model of goodness. He has too much cunning.
—SENATOR WILLIAM PLUMER ON THOMAS JEFFERSON, 1806
JEFFERSON WAITED UNTIL Eaton had departed from Washington City before replying to any of Eaton’s charges. Although Eaton had claimed to be lobbing shots at Lear and Barron, the president clearly regarded himself as in the line of fire. Around that time, it had become open season for both parties to attack the president. Even though Jefferson’s Republican party had decimated the Federalists in the recent elections, Jefferson was facing an internal revolt led by vitriolic John Randolph of Jefferson’s own Virginia.
Thomas Jefferson was no longer the shy young man who had sneaked away to write the Declaration of Independence; he had grown to become a masterful politician, but his style of governing often baffled his contemporaries. He rarely confronted the opposition head-on in a bull rush, but rather pursued several secret strategies at once. In a diary entry one Sunday early in 1806, Plumer tried to evaluate this soft-spoken, brilliant philosopher-writer.
The result of my investigation is that Mr. Jefferson has as much honesty as men in the higher grades of society usually have—& indeed I think more. He is a man of science. But he is very credulous— he knows little of the nature of man—very little indeed. He has traveled the tour of Europe—he has been Minister at Versailles. He has had great opportunities to know man—but he has neglected them. He is not a practical man. He has much knowledge of books—of insects—of shells & of all that charms a virtuoso but he knows not the human heart. He is a closet politician—but not a practical statesman. He has much fine sense but little of that plain common sense so requisite to business & which in fact governs the world.
An infidel in religion—but in every thing else credulous to a fault! Alas [the] man is himself a contradiction!
On Monday, January 13, 1806, the president, standing in the Executive Mansion’s drawing room, handed his final draft of a speech on the Tripoli war to his secretary, Mr. Coles, who then walked through the muddy streets to deliver it to the one-winged Capitol building. There, in the chill, it was read aloud into the record. Jefferson, with lawyerly precision, aimed to justify the treaty and to knock Eaton off his pedestal.
The president began by defending “concerted operations by those who have a common enemy” but stated that neither side was bound to guarantee the ultimate goals of the other. This precise philosophy was so Jeffersonian in its otherworldliness. He moved quickly to an examination of how events had played out.
“We authorized Commodore Barron, then proceeding with his squadron, to enter into an understanding with Hamet. . . . In order to avail him of the advantages of Mr. Eaton’s knowledge of circumstances, an occasional employment was provided for the latter as an agent for the navy in that sea.” (Jefferson was downgrading Eaton from the rank of “general” to a part-time employee.)
After explaining that the plan called for the U.S. Navy to attack by sea and Hamet by land, the president then laid the blame for the abandonment of Hamet squarely on . . . Hamet. The prince at Derne failed to command any resources or local support. “This hope was then at an end, and we certainly had never contemplated nor were we prepared to land an army of our own, or to raise, pay or subsist an army of Arabs to march from Derne to Tripoli.”
Jefferson lauded Barron for his timing in aborting Eaton’s mission and Lear for his in seeking peace.
Instead of casting a few crumbs of praise to Eaton for capturing Derne, Jefferson hammered him, implying that the former army captain had far exceeded his orders from Washington City. Jefferson argued that Eaton was supposed to take sides in a civil war, not create one from scratch.
“In operations at such a distance, it becomes necessary to leave much to the discretion of the agents employed; but events may still turn up beyond the limits of that discretion. Unable in such a case to consult his Government, a zealous citizen will act as he believes that would direct him, were it apprised of the circumstances, and will take on himself responsibility. In all these cases, the purity and patriotism of the motives should shield the agent from blame, and even secure a sanction, where the error is not too injurious.”
Jefferson had further downgraded Eaton from part-timer to “zealous citizen” and now also insinuated that his actions fell into some category of “error.”
Jefferson—in a long convoluted sentence—added that if Hamet, through misperceptions caused by Eaton, thought himself promised more than this administration intended, then the United States “establishing a character of liberality and magnanimity” should help him.
While ready to toss a few coins to Hamet, Jefferson had not yet finished skewering Eaton. He ended by accusing him of contradicting himself: “The ground he has taken being different, not only from our views, but from those expressed by himself on former occasions.”
The speech seemed well crafted and apt to crush Eaton. Fair-minded, Senator Plumer heard the speech, perused the two dozen documents sitting on the Senate table, and came to a stunning conclusion: “The [documents] clearly show the imprudence & folly of Lear in opening at that time a negociation & making a treaty with the reigning bashaw. There is no doubt had Eaton been supported a few weeks more, Tripoli by the joint attack of our fleet & army must have surrendered at discretion. The documents clearly show that we basely & ungenerously deserted the ex-Bashaw—that the moment his measures operated in our favor & secured to us a peace we abandoned him & his friends to wretchedness & ruin! I cannot but despise & detest that vile wretch of a Lear!”
Indeed, all Federalists and a surprising number of Jefferson’s own Republicans were not swayed by the president. An anti-administration groundswell on Tripoli and other issues was mounting. The Federalists rushed to harness Eaton’s charisma to defy the administration.
A few days later, Senator Stephen Bradley (Federalist, Vermont) dashed off a letter to Eaton, who hadn’t even reached home yet, and implored him to return immediately to obtain that “justice which you have so richly merited from your country and the world.” The Senate had appointed a committee to review Hamet Karamanli’s application for aid, and the point man for research was none other than Bradley, who happened to be Eaton’s first patron.
Bradley gleefully wrote to Eaton: “The Tripoline treaty is not agreed to as yet, its fate is doubtful, the probability is, it will not be ratified.” The senator grew giddy with Jefferson-bashing. “You have no conception of the indignation with which [Lear’s negotiating] is viewed and unless the President should immediately recall Lear I doubt whether the Senate will not express their opinion freely on the subject.”
Eaton—the newly minted hero who had left Washington after Christmas—was at that moment detouring to Boston for more banquets and a private dinner with his friend Commodore Preble.
Then on a day in late January, he finally reached home in Brimfield, Massachusetts, and found waiting for him this enthusiastic letter from Bradley. Eaton hugged his wife, Eliza; and for the first time, he held his son, one-year-old William Sykes Eaton. Then, with little hesitation, he announced he would retrace his steps to Washington City. He was apparently still peeved at his wife and family for their spotty letter writing. After eighteen months gone, duty called again. Two years earlier he had written to Eliza: “In the bonds of wedlock, you have been ten years a widow.” Now, that was even more true.
The hero did stay home another week, long enough to be feted by neighbors and to be treated well in the Federalist heart of the nation. The governor of Massachusetts appointed him a justice of the peace for a seven-year term.
On February 3, 1806, during a break from southbound stagecoaches, he wrote in a jaunty tone to his cohort-in-arms, Preble, that he was heading back to the nation’s capital “with a view of helping Aunt Lear and her Lieutenants Barron and Rodgers out of some difficulty.”
Preble, upon receiving Eaton’s buoyant note, replied in kind: “If government do you the justice they ought and which your Gallant and meritorious service deserve, they will order you a medal, a sword, a Brigadier Gen.l Commission, a pay until promoted, recall Lear and appoint you Consul General in his stead.”
Days later, with Eaton still catching ferries and carriages, the Massachusetts Senate voted to reward Eaton with 10,000 acres in Maine, then still part of Massachusetts. He could choose from state-owned tracts anywhere but in ten townships along the Penobscot River. This marked a plum grant. (Eaton, in a pinch, could sell the land for about half a dollar an acre, thus valuing the gift at a minimum of $5,000, at a time when manual laborers earned about $1 a day.) The Senate and House of Representatives of this Commonwealth praised Eaton for “undaunted courage and brilliant services so eminently contributed to release a large number of his fellow citizens, late prisoners in Tripoili from the chains of slavery.” He was being showered with honors in the Federalist northeast.
Eaton arrived in Washington amid some of the strangest weather to hit the nation’s capital. While the temperature hovered around 58 degrees at one point on Monday, three inches of snow fell later that same day. The mantle of white temporarily dignified the muddy expanses, but warm weather melted the snow the next morning.
Senator Bradley wasted no time in contacting Eaton about testifying before the Hamet Committee, and the two teamed up to track down more witnesses. William Wormley, lieutenant of the U.S. Marines and one of the Philadelphia prisoners, happened to be in Washington City. Wormley, as did most marines, lionized Eaton, and he said he thought he’d still be a prisoner without the capture of Derne. “I moreover believe that general Eaton could have marched from Derne to Tripoli, almost without firing a shot,” he said, citing the country’s instability.
Over these winter days, Eaton was in effect stalking Jefferson. He wanted to force the president to change his mind and begin pushing for relief for Hamet, punishment for Lear, reward for Eaton, and a settlement of his accounts. Jefferson, meanwhile, was occupied elsewhere, trying desperately to avoid getting entangled with England, Spain, and France in the endless Napoleonic wars. His job wasn’t made easier by snide warmongering comments from his own Republican Congressmen: “We have a bold and enterprising sergeant-at-arms, who is ambitious to execute our orders,” observed John Randolph. “Shall we send him with [a club] in a canoe to Admiral Collingwood to order him to surrender the royal fleet of Great Britain?”
***
Amid all this turmoil, a Machiavellian figure suddenly appeared in Washington City and began to try to entice both Jefferson and Eaton to help him. The man’s disruptive force, his utter deviousness, would cause miracles. It would one day reunite Jefferson and Eaton in a common cause; it would solve Eaton’s financial woes; and it would almost split the United States in half.
Aaron Burr hit town in late February. Discarded from Jefferson’s 1804 presidential ticket after he killed Alexander Hamilton in a duel, Burr was ever conniving to resurrect himself, on a grand scale. The former vice president was then secretly plotting to raise a private army to conquer parts of the Louisiana Purchase and Spanish Mexico and create an empire that would rival the United States. In some whispered tellings, he confessed that he hoped even to overthrow the administration. “Nothing will satisfy that man but the throne of God,” sniped Senator Rufus King.
Unaware of the man’s empire plans, Jefferson on February 22, 1806, invited Burr to dine with him. Burr tried to cajole his way to a plum diplomatic post but Jefferson turned him down. Charming and self-confident, Burr smilingly hinted that he might reveal secrets about Jefferson. “Perhaps no man’s language was ever so apparently explicit and at the same time so covert and indefinite,” observed one senator.
Burr then sought out Eaton. The two men began drinking together, sometimes in Washington taverns, often in private. Burr began to probe the open wound of Eaton’s anger at the administration over Tripoli and over Jefferson’s recent attempt to humiliate him. The 50-year-old former Revolutionary War colonel, dubbed “Little Burr” behind his back, gradually revealed his conspiracy plans to Eaton and eventually offered him the post of third in command of the new army, behind Burr himself and U.S. Army general James Wilkinson. “I listened to the exposition of Col. Burr’s views with seeming acquiescence,” Eaton later wrote.
Though maybe a bit sympathetic at first, Eaton grew deeply disturbed by Burr’s plot. Around this time, Eaton did a strange thing, an act quintessentially Eaton, which in its own odd way, revealed his patriotism. Since Eaton had no written evidence against Burr, he decided he would try to avert the crisis by asking Jefferson to appoint Burr as an ambassador in Europe, somewhere far away from Mexico or Louisiana.
Succeeding in gaining a few minutes alone with the president, Eaton proposed that Burr go on a special mission to Spain or even England. Jefferson balked at the idea. Then Eaton warned Jefferson that within eighteen months Burr might incite a rebellion in the West. The president dismissed that possibility, saying he counted on the “integrity and the attachment to the Union” of American citizens. With historical hindsight, it’s easy to see that Jefferson probably perceived Eaton as a messenger for Burr, delivering a veiled threat in order to land Burr a diplomatic post. This exchange did nothing to endear Eaton to the president.
That unpleasant impression was cemented days later when Burr again approached Jefferson for a diplomatic post and again threatened to embarrass the president. Jefferson later recalled saying to Burr: “I never have done a single act or been concerned in any transaction which I fear to have fully laid open.” That kind of sanctimoniousness irritated Jefferson’s opponents.
While Burr’s plot simmered in secret meetings nationwide, Eaton was still trying to finish the more mundane task of settling his accounts from Tunis. His letter to Madison in November had gone unanswered. He now wrote again, and this time Madison replied almost immediately with some very unhelpful news. Madison informed him that he considered Eaton’s expenses so far beyond standard State Department items such as house rental, stable fees, and transportation that Congress must intervene. Eaton, whose family was living on credit in Brimfield, was hurled back into limbo.
Eaton and Bradley accelerated their anti-Jefferson and anti-treaty lobbying. The opposition forces had gathered enough momentum that Jefferson felt compelled to bring up Tripoli contingency plans at a meeting of his five-man Cabinet. Jefferson posed the question: If Hamet’s family has not been restored, should the United States renew the blockade of Tripoli? The answer: a unanimous no. However, they did decide that the new American consul to Tripoli should press for the family’s return, and if it was not granted, the administration would then lay the issue of a blockade before Congress.
On Monday, March 17, in the drafty hall of the Senate, General Bradley delivered his committee’s report on Hamet’s request for aid. It was a complete exoneration of Eaton and a blistering critique of Lear and, by implication, Jefferson. The committee charged that Lear “dictated every measure, paralyzed every military operation by land and sea, and finally without displaying the fleet or squadron before Tripoli . . . against the opinion of all officers of the fleet, entered into a convention with the reigning bashaw.” The committee reeled in disgust at the impropriety of ordering Eaton to evacuate Derne five days prior to Lear’s sailing and dismissed Lear’s excuse that American lives were at stake as “hav[ing] no foundation in fact.” The report concluded: “The committee are confident that the legislature [Congress] of a free and christian country can never leave it in the power of a mahometan to say they have violated their faith, or withheld the operations of justice from one who has fallen a victim to his unbounded confidence in their integrity and honor.”
The committee then proposed a bill for the relief of Hamet, with a space left blank for Congress to decide how many thousands of dollars Hamet should be given. This brutal, partisan lambasting of the administration delighted Eaton.
The following day, Senator Bradley proposed that Congress set aside six square miles of federal public land to become a township called “Derne,” and that it give 1,000 acres each to William Eaton, Presley O’Bannon, and George Washington Mann, and 320 acres each to the four surviving marines, Arthur Campbell, Bernard O’Brian, David Thomas, and James Owen. (Three had died, two of them at Derne.)
With praise resounding in his ears, Eaton directed a letter to the Speaker of the House, requesting his expense claims be finally settled.
That same day, Eaton, stubborn patriot, became convinced that the balance of power had shifted in his favor in his undeclared tiff with President Jefferson. Eaton wrote Preble extolling the Senate in higher-than-high-flown language. “The sense of honor, justice and indignation against baseness which has heretofore and always ought to mark the character of the nation is not wholly absorbed in the pusillanimity of the Executive; these virtues still exist in the representation of the States.”
Eaton made a prediction: “The Executive has been probed to the core, every . . . document drawn from him which could throw light on the subject and you have the result—Lear will be impeached.” Also, he saw financial daylight for himself. “My consular accounts are with the Committee of Claims—I shall be indemnified.” Longtime friend John Cotton Smith (Federalist, Connecticut) chaired the committee.
Although the Tripoli treaty ranked in importance far below, say, war with England, Jefferson didn’t want to add one single defeat or embarrassment when he needed every ounce of political credibility. All his life, he complained about the dirty infighting of politics, yet Jefferson over the years learned well how to sharpen his nails.
Senator Plumer visited Jefferson at 9 A.M. on April 2. The embattled president welcomed him. If someone wanted to stop rumors and shape “spin,” Plumer was a fine choice for a confidant, trusted by Federalists and well liked by Jefferson’s party.
Plumer informed the president that a “report was circulating with much industry” that Lear had signed a secret agreement to delay the return of Hamet’s family.
[Jefferson] assured me the report was not only utterly false—but that there was in fact no foundation for any suspicion of the kind. You must, said he, as a senator know that in fact no such secret article exists, for you have the treaty before you—And nothing can make a part of the treaty but what is agreed to by two thirds of the Senators present. And you may rest assured that Mr. Lear neither gave any written assurances to the Bashaw—or ever intimated to him, that the United States would not insist on Hamet’s family being delivered up. So, far from it, that the reigning Bashaw has been uniformly told that this article must be literally & fully performed. He added, I have since I received the treaty issued new orders & given explicit directions to Mr. Lear to demand the fulfilment of that article from Joseph Bashaw.
Jefferson could count on Plumer to spread the word that the president had emphatically denied the existence of any secret article. It is beyond doubt that Lear never officially informed the administration about the secret clause, but did he tell Jefferson in a private or confidential letter? If he did, no such evidence still exists. Thomas Jefferson, however, was willing to partake in this kind of gamesmanship: Remember the administration’s orders to Lear to try to keep any annual tribute payment as “no part of the Public Treaty.”
After discussing ratification of the treaty, Plumer brought up the topic of the Bradley Report, which Plumer called “very extraordinary,” questioning its fairness. “The president replied, the principles contained in that report are unsound, and the facts are false. The documents will not support the statements—They cannot be supported by testimony. The Senate ought to pass a vote to disapprove & reject the report. It appears Mr. Eaton wishes to blast the reputation of & destroy the character of Commodore Barron & Mr. Lear to raise his own importance. I presume there is an intimacy—a connection between Bradley & Eaton—& this connection has led Mr. Bradley into errors.
“The government of the United States,” Jefferson continued, “never authorized any man to co-operate with Hamet in any way agt. the reigning Bashaw, [f]or any longer, than the United States should find it for their interest so to do.” Jefferson was clearly irate.
“The character of Mr. Lear is good, fair and unblemished. We thought & still believe, it was a very fortunate circumstance for the United States that we could prevail upon him to accept the office of Consul-General upon the Barbary Coast. And I hope in his absence the Senate will not approve of a report calculated to wound his fame.”
Jefferson then, unbidden, brought up the most troubling rumor of all. “A story has been circulated, & I was yesterday requested to explain it, that Mr. Lear while private Secretary to President Washington, was induced to a breach of trust. That he clandestinely procured & forwarded me the correspondence that passed between the General & myself. This story is false in every part & has been raised and circulated to injure Mr. Lear. The last letter I ever wrote to Genl Washington was in July 1796. In August following I received a partial answer—& not until May 1798 I recd a full one—& this was the last letter I had from him. I yesterday examined my files & read the letters.”
This Plumer diary entry marks Jefferson’s staunchest denial of the falling-out with Washington and the suppression of the letters. Despite this denial, it strains credulity that a lifelong correspondence should peter to nothing for the final three years of Washington’s life.
Plumer, quite gregarious, would now tell many senators and congressmen about Jefferson’s denials and opinions.
The president orchestrated other behind-the-scenes politicking to sway more congressmen. Secretary of War Henry Dearborn made the rounds of the senators, praising Lear and scorning Eaton as “uncandid.” Secretary of State Madison buttonholed John Quincy Adams, a Federalist, to push for ratification of the Tripoli treaty. The atmosphere was growing testier. Smelling blood, some Federalist senators were talking about steering the next presidential election away from Jefferson’s handpicked successor, James Madison.
Nonetheless, Jefferson’s discreet lobbying worked. The Bradley Report was sent back to a committee with two new senators aboard, John Quincy Adams (Federalist, Massachusetts) and Thomas Sumter (Republican, South Carolina). The spin wars intensified. Eaton succeeded in convincing several newspapers to run his angry August shipboard letter lampooning Lear and Barron. It appeared April 8, the same day that Bradley introduced a resolution to postpone ratification of the Tripoli treaty till next session of Congress. The senators debated the issue most of the day. Again, Eaton and Bradley lost. The vote came down 10 in favor of delaying, 20 opposed. The tally is significant, because treaty ratification would require a two-thirds majority, that is, 20 to 10 or more.
Senator Bradley had also worked hard to sway his fellow senators to give generous aid to Hamet, to fill in the blank with quite a few thousand dollars. Again, Bradley failed. On April 9, the Senate voted to postpone the issue of Relief of Hamet “to the first Monday in December next.”
That Wednesday turned even bleaker for Eaton. John Cotton Smith, chairman of the Committee of Claims, issued its report to the House. The members proposed a resolution that Eaton’s settlement be returned yet again to the Department of State because “the [committee is] neither qualified nor disposed to become a board of auditors.” Eaton was moved from one limbo to another.
The following day, Eaton, who had lost battle after battle, was invited to dine at a Federalist boardinghouse run by one Captain Coyle. These early senators and congressmen, at times behaving like frat boys, were thrown together far away from their families. “There is too many—We have too much noise,” wrote Senator Plumer. “For [Samuel] Dana is as rude as a boy—very talkative—a voice harsh & loud as Stentor . . . —In each chamber there are two lodgers—This is very inconvenient. Tis difficult to obtain an hour’s quiet—all is noise.”
The evening of April 10 the disappointed Federalists brought Eaton home with them. Plumer, influenced by Jefferson, now referred to him disparagingly as “William Eaton Esq (alias the Arab Genl).” With liquor flowing freely, Eaton, preaching to the choir of Jefferson bashers, made an acid comment regarding the lack of aid to Hamet-the-betrayed. He said, with his typical bluntness: “A majority of the Senate have sold the honor of the country.”
Duels were fought over far less wounding statements. Since Plumer was the only senator in attendance who had voted in favor of postponing Hamet’s relief, he didn’t take the charge well. “I then observed he had assumed great liberties—but that I trusted the Senate would act agreeable to the conviction of their own minds—uninfluenced by the opinions of others.” Plumer—who had been an Eaton disciple—was now turning. He vowed never to dine with Eaton again.
Eaton in his frustration began to drink more. It was gossiped by the likes of Plumer that Eaton started his day by downing a couple glasses of whiskey and that he had threatened to horsewhip a servant at Stelle’s Tavern if he wasn’t served his breakfast before all other guests.
A couple of days later, on Saturday, April 12, the Senate, with thirty senators in the chamber, remained in session to debate the Tripoli treaty. Eaton, believing truth on his side, desperately wanted the peace pact defeated. At least eight senators opposed the treaty. If they could find three more votes, they could defeat ratification.
In the chilly Senate chamber, many senators rose to deliver harangues on Eaton, Hamet, Lear, and Barron. The Senate, in those years, according to Plumer, offered a far less desirable stage than the House of Representatives for speechifying. The House had two stenographers and a gallery often packed with people yearning to hear John Randolph. The Senate had no stenographers, and any senator who wanted his words recorded for posterity needed “to submit to the drudgery” of writing them out in longhand and giving them to a sympathetic newspaper.
Senator Robert Wright (Republican, Maryland) proposed an amendment that the treaty would be ratified only on the condition that Bashaw Yussef delivered up Hamet’s wife and children. Nine votes yea, twenty votes nay. It was defeated.
Senator John Smith (Republican, Ohio) proposed a postponement of the treaty to the next session, in December. Only eight votes in favor. Defeated.
“After 4 O’Clock,” according to Plumer, “Wright & Pickering exercized the patience of the Senate with long dry & tedious speeches.” The Capitol building leaked during rains and was perpetually damp, but one cozy nook tempted them all. “We withdrew to the fireside & spent our time cheerfully & left them to talk & read documents . . . to the empty chairs. At sometime, for ten minutes, there was not but four senators within the bar. Six several [sic] times they moved the President [of the Senate] to adjourn for want of a quorum. As soon as the motion was made, we took our chairs, negatived it & then immediately withdrew.”
Finally, sometime long after 5 P.M., the Tripoli treaty came up for a vote. The main Federalists stuck together, but both Adams and Plumer defected. The vote came down 21 to 8 to ratify, topping the two-thirds needed. The Senate therefore did “advise & consent” the president to ratify the treaty. Lear had escaped official censure. This marked one more slap in the face for Eaton.
From that Saturday, a mad scramble ensued to finish business to escape the Potomac region. On the final day of the session, Monday, April 21, the House and Senate rushed to push through almost twenty bills for Jefferson to sign. Chaos reigned; tempers flared.
Among the motions, the House and Senate took up a bill brought by John Quincy Adams to offer “temporary relief” for Hamet, and the House took up its Claims Committee’s recommendation regarding Eaton’s accounts. Some of Eaton’s paperwork was spread on the table in the House and some in the Senate for perusal.
The expense account was immensely complicated; Eaton regarded his patriotic motives as an all-encompassing defense for the unfortunate business setbacks and swindles that had resulted in him owing the government the gargantuan sum of $40,000.
Plumer sifted through the paperwork and came to a very different conclusion. “The money paid for the redemption of an Italian girl had no connection with his consulship—& the US. ought not to pay it.” As for the bribe, “Tis a principle too vile & too dangerous to admit of moments consideration.”
The House decided to postpone even voting on Eaton’s account; the resolution was ordered to lie on the table. The Senate reached a third reading of its own bill, but it too never voted on it. Eaton’s finances were firmly cemented in limbo.
Hamet fared slightly better. The House approved a bill for his temporary relief by an overwhelming 71 to 6, and the Senate did likewise. Hamet would receive a payment of $2,400 from a U.S. Navy agent in the Mediterranean.
Congress late that night adjourned. Many of the politicians were eager to leave town and get a head start out of the swamp. The next morning’s stage to Baltimore was packed.
Thomas Jefferson had won most of his battles with Congress. He had dodged the revolt of Virginian John Randolph and avoided the warmongers. Beyond that, Jefferson had won all of his skirmishes with Eaton over Tripoli: The treaty was ratified; Lear was safe; Eaton was teetering on his hero’s pedestal; Eaton’s expenses were still embroiled.
Jefferson wrote a note to a friend, Judge John Tyler, summing up his thoughts, as the elected officials emptied out of the boardinghouses. “Congress has just closed a long and uneasy session, in which they had great difficulties external and internal to encounter. With respect to the ex-basha of Tripoli & many other more important matters, such a spirit of dissension existed, and such misrepresentation of fact that it will be difficult for the public to come at truth.” The lanky Virginia lawyer was certain that he knew the truth; the stocky New England military man felt the same way.
Angry over his many defeats, William Eaton headed north in May of 1806 to return to his family in Brimfield, a Federalist stronghold. As he was still a hero to many, his journey north was punctuated by stopovers for huzzas in various taverns.
No amount of praise, however, could dispel his anger over Tripoli and over his shabby treatment in Washington City. His disappointment was eating at him like some cancer. General Eaton believed that the United States with him at the fore had once had the chance to stop the Barbary pirates and to inspire the world. That opportunity was lost; it galled him, and he refilled his glass, again and again.