Van Buren's work not only encouraged several Federalists to vote for Clinton electors, but it compelled the Madisonians not to vote at all. It seemed easy, when a master hand guided the helm, to bring order out of chaos. Upon joint ballot, the Clintonian electors received seventy-four votes to the Federalists' forty-five; twenty-eight blanks represented the Madison strength. Van Buren, however, could not control in other States. If some one in Pennsylvania, of equal tact in the management of men, could have supplemented his work, Clinton must easily have won. But it is not often given a party, or an individual, to have the assistance of two such men at the same time. After the votes were counted, it appeared that Clinton had carried New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, and had five votes in Maryland--eighty-nine in all. The remaining one hundred and twenty-eight belonged to Madison. In estimating the discontent excited by the declaration of war Clinton had failed to foresee that there is something captivating to a spirited people about the opening of a new war. He had also failed to notice that military failures could not affect Madison's strength. The surrender of Detroit, Dearborn's blunder in wasting time, and the inefficiency of the secretary of war had raised a storm of public wrath sufficient to annihilate Hull and to shake the earth under Eustis; but it passed harmlessly over the head of the President. The foreign policy of Jefferson and Madison, approved by the Republican party, was on trial, and the defeat of the Administration meant a want of confidence in the party itself. Here, then, was a contingency against which Clinton had never thought of providing, and, as so often happens, the one thing not taken into consideration, proved decisive in the result. CHAPTER XIX QUARRELS AND RIVALRIES 1813 After Clinton's loss of the Presidency, it must have been clear to his friends and enemies alike that his influence in the Republican party was waning. A revolution in sentiment did not then sweep over the State with anything like the swiftness and certainty of the present era of cheap newspapers and rapid transit. Yet, in spite of his genius, which concealed, and, for a time, checked the suddenness of his fall, the rank and file of the party quickly understood what had happened. Friends began falling away. For several months Ambrose Spencer had openly and bitterly denounced him, and Governor Tompkins took a decisive part in relieving his rival of the last hope of ever again reckoning on the support of Republicans.