The aristocracy and all the powers at its command assailed the proposed reforms with passionate bitterness. “Would you admit the populace, the patron’s coachman to vote?” asked one Federalist writer. “His excellency (the Governor) cannot retain the gentry, the Judges, and the ‘manors’ in his interest without he opposes either openly or clandestinely every attempt to enlarge the elective franchise.” “We would rather be ruled by a _man_ without an estate than by an estate without a _man_,” replied one reform writer. The Legislature passed a bill providing for the holding of a constitutional convention, and the Council of Revision, by the deciding vote of Clinton, promptly rejected it. Doubtless this action was due to the declared intention of the advocates of the constitutional convention to abolish this body. Again an assemblage gathered at Tammany Hall (December 1) and resolved that as the “distinction of the electorial rights, the mode of appointment to office and the union of the judiciary and legislative functions were objectional and highly pernicious,” the next Legislature should pass the pending bill.
Upon this issue a Legislature overwhelmingly favorable to the extension of suffrage and other projected reforms was elected. The aristocratic party opened a still fiercer onslaught. But when the Legislature repassed the convention bill, the Council of Revision did not dare to veto it. The convention bill was promptly submitted to the people and ratified. On the news of its success the Democratic voters celebrated the event in the Wigwam, June 14, 1821.
Beaten so far, the Federalists tried to form a union with the reactionary element in Tammany Hall by which they could elect delegates opposed to the projected reforms. All opposition was unavailing, however; the reformers had a clear majority in the convention, and the new amendments, embodying the reforms, were submitted to the people. They were adopted in January, 1822, the city alone giving them 4608 majority.[1] When the Legislature took oath under the revised constitution on March 4, the bells of the city churches were rung; flags were flung on the shipping and public buildings; “a grand salute” was fired by a corps of artillery from the Battery; the City Hall was illuminated at night, and the municipality held a popular reception there. In Tammany Hall a gala banquet was spread, one toast of which ran: “The right of suffrage--Corruption in its exercise most to be apprehended from its limitation to a few.” After that pronouncement, so edifying in view of later developments, came another as instructive: “The young and rising politician--May integrity and principle guide him--studying the public good, not popularity.”