Early in May a double election took place, which gave more cause of alarm. New York chose a Federalist Assembly, and Massachusetts chose a General Court more strongly Federalist than any one had ventured to expect. In the face of such a revolution in two of the greatest and richest States in the Union, President, Cabinet, and legislators had reason to hesitate; they had even reason to fear that the existence of the Union might hang on their decision. They knew the Executive Department to be incompetent for war; they had before their eyes the spectacle of an incompetent Congress; and they saw the people declaring, as emphatically as their democratic forms of government permitted, their unwillingness to undertake the burden. Even bold men might pause before a situation so desperate. Thus the month of May passed, full of discouragement. Congress did not adjourn, but the members went home on leave, with the understanding that no further action should be taken until June. At home they found chaos. Under the coercion of embargo, commerce ceased. Men would do little but talk politics, and very few professed themselves satisfied with the condition into which their affairs had been brought. The press cried for war or for peace, according to its fancy; but although each of the old parties could readily prove the other’s course to be absurd, unpatriotic, and ruinous, the war men, who were in truth a new party, powerless to restore order by legitimate methods, shut their ears to the outcry, and waited until actual war should enforce a discipline never to be imposed in peace. The experiment of thrusting the country into war to inflame it, as crude ore might be thrown into a furnace, was avowed by the party leaders, from President Madison downward, and was in truth the only excuse for a course otherwise resembling an attempt at suicide. Many nations have gone to war in pure gayety of heart; but perhaps the United States were first to force themselves into a war they dreaded, in the hope that the war itself might create the spirit they lacked. One of the liveliest and most instructive discussions of the session, May 6, threw light upon the scheme by which the youthful nation was to reverse the process of Medea, and pass through the caldron of war in confidence of gaining the vigor of age. Mr. Bleecker of New York, in offering petitions for the repeal of the embargo, argued that the embargo could not be honestly intended. “Where are your armies; your navy? Have you money? No, sir! Rely upon it, there will be, there can be, no war--active, offensive war--within sixty days.” War would be little short of treason; would bring shame, disgrace, defeat; and meanwhile the embargo alienated the people of States which must necessarily bear much of the burden. These arguments were supported by John Randolph.