Washington [504]
For a full week Washington proceeded with business as usual, dropping no hints to Randolph of any mistrust he harbored. Washington, who never did anything lightly, tried to anticipate all the political repercussions of the affair. He examined thoroughly the question of whether the incriminating letter, or just damaging parts, should be published. “A part, without the whole, might be charged with unfairness,” he advised Wolcott and Pickering. “The public would expect reasons for the sudden removal of so high an officer.”18 He knew Republicans would try to convert Randolph into a political martyr, sacrificed for his opposition to the Jay Treaty, and that the Fauchet letter would be dismissed as a transparent excuse for getting rid of him. On the evening of August 18, to forestall suspicions of what was afoot, Washington included Edmund Randolph among his dinner guests. Although he asked Randolph to arrive at his office at ten-thirty the next morning, he had Wolcott and Pickering come earlier to devise a strategy for dealing with him. They fell back on a standard technique of detective work: they would hand Randolph the Fauchet dispatch and closely watch his expression as he absorbed its contents. This would be “the best means of discovering his true situation” and figuring out his line of defense.19
When Randolph entered, Washington reacted in a formal manner, producing the dispatch from his pocket. “Mr. Randolph,” he announced, “here is a letter which I desire you to read and make such explanations as you choose.”20 Although Randolph reddened, he kept his composure and scanned it in silence. Then he lifted his eyes and told Washington that the letter must have been intercepted. Washington nodded in confirmation. “I will explain what I know,” said Randolph, who denied having solicited or received money from the French. He would be glad to commit his defense to paper, he asserted, if he could retain the letter. “Very well,” Washington replied, “retain it.”21 At Washington’s invitation, Pickering and Wolcott began to interrogate their colleague, a prosecutorial grilling that rattled Randolph.
At one point Washington asked Randolph to step outside while he, Pickering, and Wolcott remained closeted. As they appraised Randolph’s behavior, they were all struck that he had remained so collected during their confrontation. Nevertheless, when Randolph returned, his composure had suddenly crumbled. When Washington asked how quickly he could come up with a written defense, Randolph grew indignant. “As soon as possible,” he replied hotly, blustering that he “couldn’t continue in the office one second after such treatment.”22 With that, he turned on his heels and left. Washington accepted his resignation, the first time a cabinet member had left involuntarily. The next day Washington informed Randolph that as long as he was trying to clear his name, Washington would keep an open mind and the matter would remain strictly confidential.
It was an uncertain time in the capital, with scattered reports of yellow fever flaring up again, a fear heightened by uncommon summer heat. The tactless, abrasive manner in which Randolph handled his defense strengthened Washington’s conviction of his guilt. Randolph stalled