The Whiskey Rebels

by David Liss

  The charming and beautiful Mrs. Maycott, who claimed to be my best friend in this affair, was in league with the bald and giant Irishman from the Statehouse. This was disturbing news indeed.

  “As for Pearson,” he continued, “that is a more difficult matter. They say he is hiding from the Treasury Department, though no one knows precisely why. I suppose that is why Freneau is passing his time here in New York. He must wish to find Pearson as well as you, though I imagine for different reasons.”

  “Philip Freneau?” said Leonidas. “Jefferson’s newspaper man? What has he to do with all of this?”

  “I don’t know,” said Burr, “but if you wish to know, I can think of no better method of discovering the truth than asking him. He is sitting across the room.”

  Fortunately, he had the good sense to do no more than gesture with his head. I looked over, and there indeed was a gentleman I recognized. I could not disguise my astonishment. I knew the man’s name and I knew his face, but I had never before associated the one with the other. It was the frog-faced man whom I had seen watching me all over Philadelphia. He sat behind a pillar so he was mostly obscured, and he was looking away at the moment, but every few minutes he glanced in my direction. He took a lazy note on a piece of foolscap. The man who had appeared everywhere I went was Jefferson’s newspaper man.

  “He has been following me for some time,” I said to Burr. “Have you any idea why?”

  “I imagine it is because he believes you can lead him to a story for his newspaper, and if it is for his paper, it must be something to make Hamilton look poorly.”

  “Do you know the man?” I asked.

  “Not well, but I know him a little. I’ve had a few social interactions.”

  “Is he a physical man?” I asked. “Does he possess courage?”

  “Not that I’ve seen,” said Burr.

  I glanced at Leonidas. He said, “Good.”

  Not long after that, Mr. Burr excused himself. Leonidas and I entertained a few more speculators in search of good claret and dropped a few more hints about the Million Bank, but I kept my eye on the froggy Mr. Freneau. At near eight o’clock, he left the Merchants’, and Leonidas and I followed him. There could be no guarantee that his path would provide an opportunity for us, but as it turned out, the streets were quiet and poorly lit, and it was no difficult task to find our moment.

  We approached him quietly from behind, and Leonidas turned his shoulder outward and slammed hard into Mr. Freneau’s back. Leonidas then stepped back—men are more indignant if they know they are knocked down by a Negro—and I moved forward to take his place. “I do beg your pardon,” I said, picking up Mr. Freneau’s leather bag, which he had dropped as an inevitable result of Leonidas’s expertly placed blow. It was dark and thus easy for my fingers to explore inside, extract a thick package of folded papers, and slip them into my own coat. “Your bag, sir,” I said, holding it out.

  He snatched the bag with great irritation. “You did that purposefully.”

  “For what reason,” I demanded, “would I knock down a stranger on purpose?”

  “Come, Saunders. You must know by now I’ve been keeping my eye on you.”

  I gasped. “Can it be?”

  “You may choose to play games,” said Freneau, “but I think it time we dealt openly.”

  Being in possession of Freneau’s documents, I could not help but think the advantage was mine, so I invited him to join me in the taproom of Fraunces Tavern. I was happy to escape the cold, and we made ourselves comfortable near the fire. Before I could call for refreshment, the publican came forth to inform me that Duer had made the same arrangement with him as with the owner of the Merchants’. I therefore asked him to send me two of his best bottles of wine. I did not want them for myself, only to make Duer pay and to make him believe I depended more on his generosity than I did.

  “Now, then,” I said to Freneau, “perhaps you will tell me what you wish of me.”

  “You know what I wish. I wish to know what Duer and Hamilton are up to.”

  “They are not up to anything together.”

  “Together, separate, it hardly matters. You will find it is all of a piece. Now, out with it. There has been something brewing for some time. I’ve long felt it. This is an election year, you know, and my readers must have the truth.”

  “Perhaps you should first tell us what you know, since I too must have the truth. You say what you know, and then I will add what I can.”

  Freneau pressed his lips together in satisfaction, which made him look all the more froggish. “I know Duer plans to gain ownership of the Million Bank. He puts it about that he thinks the scheme will fail, but it is only so he and his agents can obtain more shares themselves.”

  “What is the harm in that? Many predict the bank won’t survive, but if Duer wants to invest in it may he not do so?”

  “Duer lies. He warns everyone away from the Million Bank launch, and then he plans to move in with his agents to gain a controlling share. What happens then? It’s a new bank. It is regarded with interest and enthusiasm. The value of its shares rise, and, inevitably, the value of the shares of other banks falls. It may be temporary, but it happens. But if a man controls enough of one bank he can then use the artificial value of the inflated price of shares to buy up a controlling interest in another bank. In this case, Duer thinks he can use the Million Bank to take over the Bank of the United States. When he is done, the most venal man in America will hold in his hands the nation’s finances, and Hamilton will have all but handed his bank over to him.”

  “It is a fantasy of Hamilton-haters,” I said. “Why should Hamilton wish to sacrifice the bank, the thing of which he is most proud, by surrendering it to Duer?”

  “Hamilton wishes to erase the difference between the government and the moneyed interests,” said Freneau. “He wants to out-British the British, to build a corrupt nation, run by the rich, who use land and people as a factory for their greed.”

  “It must be pleasant to believe one’s own lies,” I said.

  “I have proof enough.” He patted his bag. “I can demonstrate what sort of a monster Duer is. His agents in Philadelphia and Baltimore and Charleston short government issues, and the word spreads, so the price declines. His agents in New York and Boston then buy them at a reduced price.”

  “But how does that aid him?” I asked. “One set of agents loses money, the other set gains. Does that not eliminate, or at least reduce, his profits?”

  “It would,” said Freneau, “if the agents shorting were using Duer’s money. No, these are more like partners, convinced that they are sharing risks and rewards with the great man. They don’t know it, but Duer sacrifices them in order to gain what he imagines to be ultimate wealth.”

  “Is Jacob Pearson such a man?” I asked.

  “He is,” Freneau said. “Duer has quite devastated Pearson’s holdings, but the man is too big a fool to see it. What remains of Pearson’s wealth will be put into the Million Bank, and then Duer will offer to help with Pearson’s new debt in exchange for his Million Bank shares.”

  “That can’t be the only means by which Duer aims to get control of the bank.”

  “No,” said Freneau. “He has other agents, men who will, in fact, use Duer’s money, to buy on the day of the launch.”

  “Do you know who they are?”

  “I have that information,” he said, patting his bag again. “But it is time for you to give me something.”

  “I’ve heard a rumor that Pearson is in New York. Do you know if that’s true?”

  “I have heard he is, but I have also heard he does not wish his whereabouts known.”

  “So you can tell me nothing of it?” I pressed.

  “Nothing,” said Freneau, “but one never knows when new information may be acquired. Make me your friend, sir, and I shall keep your questions in mind.”

  I was distracted, thinking of Pearson, of his hitting Cynthia, of his fist striking her face. I thoug
ht of him threatening to harm his own children. I had thought Freneau could tell me, but he knew nothing. If he deceived me about anything, I believed, it was about the likelihood he might yet discover the information I wanted. “Very well,” I muttered.

  “Tell me about Kyler Lavien,” said Freneau.

  That brought me back to the conversation. I did not know how much Freneau and the Jeffersonians knew about Lavien, but anything was too much.

  I looked at him and did my best to appear puzzled. “Who?”

  “Don’t attempt to make me into a fool,” he said.

  “How could I attempt myself what nature hath wrought to perfection?”

  Freneau sat straight. “Do you break your word in order to protect a scoundrel like Hamilton?”

  “I’ve grown somewhat fond of Hamilton,” I said. “I discover he is a decent man, and I’ll not help a bloodthirsty jackal like you libel his name because you refuse to recognize that he and Duer, however much they may once have been friends, are now set against each other. Can you not advance the cause of your democratical republicanism with the truth? If you can’t, perhaps it is not worth advancing.”

  Freneau chose to act as though I’d said nothing. “I asked you to tell me about Lavien.”

  “I cannot tell you of a man I’ve never heard of. Is he the French ambassador? Perhaps Jefferson knows him from all that time he spent in Paris, buying wines and furnishings, while the rest of us fought a war.”

  Freneau, unflatteringly, allowed his eyes to bulge. “I’m sorry I told you anything. I wish I could take back my words.”

  “And I wish all children of the world might be given the gift of beautiful flowers. Now be gone, you tedious man, and trouble me no longer.”

  Freneau stood. “You will regret using me so.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I think, in fact, I will look back on this abuse with pleasure. Now, please go before I ask my man to knock you down again.”

  Leonidas grinned at him, and that proved the final argument. He stood, cast us a resentful glance, and left the tavern.

  I had hoped to find Pearson tonight, but my hopes had been dashed. Even so, it was hardly a disastrous evening. Indeed, I had every reason to be pleased with myself, and with this in mind I took the papers from Freneau’s bag and proceeded to see what he had to teach us.

  John Maycott

  Autumn and Winter 1791

  Back in his house, while his wife attempted to walk noiselessly one floor above us, I sat with Mr. Pearson in his library. He poured me a glass of wine, and I sat in an armchair while he sat across from me on the sofa. I had a curious role to play, part child, part speculator, part seductress, and I was suddenly uneasy, aware of the noises of the street outside us, the clicking of the clock in the room, the distant barking of a dog. I sipped the wine so it would redden my lips, and then I began.

  I spoke of the Million Bank, describing it as, yes, another bank attempting to capitalize on the public’s new mania for banks, but also far more. Under the correct circumstances, it could become the most powerful financial institution in the new country. It only required daring leadership. It require men who were willing to see the times for what they were, times of unchecked possibility, times in which destiny might be shaped by the bold and the clever.

  Pearson, who imagined himself such a man and was indeed looking at my wine-darkened lips, hung upon my every word, so I told him how I believed a relatively small group of investors, if they could but command enough money, might attempt to take the whole initial stock offering; imagine, I said, what a cabal might do if it suddenly and for a relatively small investment found itself in control of a bank.

  He stopped staring at my lips long enough to ask me how that might happen.

  I explained that I thought a new bank might use the initial euphoria that followed its launch to take over another, more established bank, such as the Bank of New York, or even—for men of true audacity—the Bank of the United States.

  Mr. Pearson finished his drink and poured another. He stared out the foggy window for a long moment while he worked his lips soundlessly, as though having a long and somewhat contentious conversation with himself. At last, apparently having won the argument, he turned back to me.

  “You chose not to present this to Duer?”

  “I did not wish to impose upon our friendship. He asks me for advice, yes, and values my opinion, but it did not seem right that I should offer to direct his affairs.”

  “Let us be honest, Mrs. Maycott. That is not the reason at all. I think it is time for you to be direct with me.”

  “Sir,” I said in protest. What had I done, I wondered, to tip my hand? Had I grown too lax in my deception? Had one success after another led me to lay down my guard? “If you have any reservations about what I say, you may feel free to disregard it. I remind you that it was you who wished me to speak.”

  He laughed, loud and barking. It sounded either forced or seething with madness. “You bring it to me because you understand the way things are. Duer’s success is but a fluke, but I have had to build my achievements one brick at a time. He is nothing but a rich speculator, but you know a man of vision when you see one.”

  I was on uncertain ground here, there could be no doubt of that, but at least I was not myself the subject of his suspicion. I masked the sound of my exhalation of relief. “Mr. Duer is my friend, and I have the greatest respect for his successes.”

  “Of course, of course.” He laughed again, though this time less like a lunatic, and waved one of his big hands through the air. “But different men have different talents, and not everyone can be a visionary. Not everyone can be bold enough to see what is invisible to others.”

  “That is most certainly true. Can I then conclude you think this is something that could be effected?”

  “I think it can. It only lacks a man with both means and ambition enough.”

  “It requires something else, of course. It requires capital, and only a handful of men in the country have enough to attempt such a thing. And, if I understand how things stand, there is only one man with the means who might be willing to try.”

  “I will speak to Duer,” he said.

  Understanding full well the value of a coup de théâtre, I said, “Then you must not mention my name. I do not go to him directly because I fear he will not take me seriously, but if you tell him the idea is from me, he may wonder why I did not trust him. It must be our secret.”

  “But what do you gain if I take the credit for your idea?”

  “I gain the satisfaction of feeling clever.”

  Several days later, Mr. Duer and I sat in the City Tavern and he told me of what he understood to be Pearson’s scheme. His voice was strangely flat, and I wondered if I had somehow wandered into a trap. Did he know I had been deceiving him? Yet I could not back away now. I listened as he described my Million Bank scheme back to me in all its blunt, insane glory.

  “Do you think it possible?” he asked me.

  I pretended to give the matter a great deal of consideration. “I do think so, yes.”

  He rubbed his hands together. “The trick will be how to shift Pearson away from attempting to order me about. It is a brilliant idea, but he would not know how to go about it. It is only by the strangest of flukes that he would even think of it before I did.”

  “You need not worry,” I said. “Pearson likes to present himself as brilliant, but he is all bluster, and he knows it. You will make him do as you wish by letting him tell you that he is doing as he wishes, even while he follows you about as though led by the nose. You need only tend to his pride, and he will give you all you need.”

  Duer smiled at me. “You are an astute observer of human nature. I should very much hate for you to be my enemy.”

  I sipped my tea and said nothing. Over Duer’s shoulder, the scarred Mr. Reynolds smirked at me, and I could not help but wonder if he had been working on Duer, convincing him to doubt me. It was only a matter of time, of co
urse, until Reynolds or circumstances proved to Duer that he’d been foolish to be so open with me, but I was almost certain that the time was not yet here.

  Joan Maycott

  December 1791

  It was when the scheme to take charge of the Million Bank was under way that we first became aware of Ethan Saunders, who was to become so significant an actor in the events that followed. Since I had formed my friendship with Duer, he and his followers had redoubled efforts to gain a controlling interest of six percent issues. There were now two fairly significant irons in the fire, and when we met one evening at Pearson’s house to talk of these things, it was I who raised the question for the first time.

  “At some point,” I said, “these activities are going to attract Hamilton’s attention, are they not?”

  “Oh, that is nothing,” said Duer. “I can tend to Hammy. All he requires is a kind word, and he shall be satisfied. To know him is to understand he is more dog than man.”

  Duer and I had more than once discussed Pearson’s need to exaggerate his own importance, but Duer was frequently guilty of the same sin. When Hamilton’s name came up, he would pretend to a closeness and influence for which I had never seen evidence. This above all concerned me, for if Hamilton were to discover Duer’s activities too early, Duer would indeed be ruined but Hamilton would walk away—perhaps not unscathed but relatively intact.

  “I think she’s right,” said Pearson, scenting Duer’s blood. He was now significantly in debt because of his involvement in Duer’s schemes, and he had borrowed recklessly from the Bank of the United States, in order to continue losing money and to have enough to invest personally in the Million Bank launch. There were rumors about town that he had even begun to sell off some of his real estate holdings, and if that was the case he was more precariously poised than I had realized or intended. If he fell from the precipice now, I had no notion of how I would save his wife and children, other than to give them money of my own.