Episode 5.6 The Failures of Diplomacy

[Transcript]

Hello, and welcome to America’s First Ladies. I’m your host, Risa Weaver-Enion.

Episode 5.6 The Failures of Diplomacy

We left off last week in the summer of 1806. The Monroes were back in London, and William Pinkney had just arrived to be co-minister with James. Their goal: a treaty with Britain that would end impressment and the seizure of American vessels at sea. 

As we know from last season, they failed on that front, but honestly, it was a pipe dream to begin with. There was no way the British were ever going to agree to it, especially in writing. The negotiations went about as poorly as you would expect. In his journal for the months of August and September, during the heated negotiations, James noted, “It appeared impossible…to enter into any Stipulation which should suspend the right to search the Merchant Ships of Neutrals during War, for British Seamen.”

But in November, a major change in the British stance took place, but only unofficially. The British government was willing to concede that the “strictest care shall be taken to preserve the citizens of the United States from any molestation or injury, and that immediate prompt redress shall be afforded upon any representation of injury sustained by them.” But they were not willing to put that in writing in any treaty.

But Monroe and Pinkney were encouraged, and so they set about formalizing a treaty with the unwieldy name of a Treaty of Amity, Commerce and Navigation Between His Britannic Majesty and the United States of America. I’m going to quote a long paragraph from Tim McGrath’s book, James Monroe: A Life:

“As with many a treaty, [this one] succeeded admirably in some cases, compromised on others, and failed or missed the mark with the rest. It redefined and expanded American waters, eliminated most disputes regarding West Indies trade, lessened duties payable in British ports, required ample notice by the Royal Navy of any blockades, restricted what British captains could claim as ‘contraband,’ and guaranteed compensation to American merchants from any treaty violations.

In return, Monroe and Pinkney agreed to tighter rules for East Indies trade, relinquished the tenet of ‘free ships make free goods,’ and granted that no economic sanctions would be applied to the British government. … On the whole, Monroe and Pinkney believed their treaty a diplomatic victory. It was a marked improvement over the Jay Treaty, solving one of the vexing problems Americans had with the British: how to deal with them. Another war, especially at sea, was foolhardy. Sanctions and nonimportation policies would cause equal economic hardships for nearly all Americans, not just merchants. Monroe and Pinkney chose a third option: cooperation, tempered with mutual respect.”

At the same time Monroe and Pinkney were finalizing this treaty, back home Congress was passing the Non-Importation Act of 1806. And we know from last season that we really should call it the failed Non-Importation Act.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, President Jefferson rejected the Monroe-Pinkney treaty and refused to even present it to the Senate for debate. He felt that the treaty was one-sided, writing to Monroe that it would “leave us bound by the treaty, & themselves totally unbound. … The British Commissioners appear to have screwed every article as far as it would bear, to have taken everything, & yielded nothing.”

Jefferson was wrong, of course, as he was about so many things. That’s why I quoted the long passage summarizing what the treaty actually did. But Jefferson and Madison couldn’t see past impressment, and that was the one thing the treaty didn’t cover. They considered the treaty a failure, and they considered Monroe a failure. This was the final straw that eventually led Monroe to break with them, even though temporarily, and oppose Madison for the presidential nomination in the election of 1808.

He was encouraged in this by a group of Republican senators who were disenchanted with Jefferson. One in particular, John Randolph of Virginia, wrote to Monroe, “Never, in my opinion, had the cause of free government more to fear than now. [We look to you] to demonstrate that the government can be conducted on open, upright principles, without intrigue or any species of disingenuous artifice. … [T]he ultimate object of…our administration…is to raise Mr. Madison to the presidency. To this the old Republican party will never consent. … Between them and the supporters of Mr. Madison there is an open rupture. Need I tell you that they are united in your support? That they look to you, sir…Your country requires, nay demands your presence.” More on this in a bit.

By the time Monroe received the negative feedback from Jefferson and Madison, it was spring 1807, and then the British government changed again. They had negotiated the treaty with the Whig party, which was sympathetic to America. But the Whigs were now out, and the Tories were back in, and they were the opposite. The window of opportunity had closed.

Monroe and Pinkney continued trying to negotiate with the British throughout the summer of 1807, to no avail. And then in June the incident with the U.S.S. Chesapeake and the H.M.S. Leopard happened, and everything went to hell. We discussed this last season as well: a British warship fired upon and boarded an American frigate, a mere three miles off the coast of Virginia. Three Americans were killed and 18 wounded (or it might have been four killed and 17 wounded—the sources disagree). The country was clamoring for war, and Jefferson recalled Monroe from London, leaving Pinkney there as a chargé d’affaires, a less prestigious post than minister plenipotentiary, and a sign of the United States’s displeasure with Britain.

The Monroe family left England mid-November 1807 on the ship Augustus. They arrived into Norfolk Harbor on December 13 “much exhausted by fatigue & sickness.” Maria Hester was not yet six years old, and had brought back a spaniel as a souvenir of her time in Europe. As Monroe later wrote to Madison, “She had a small spaniel dog with whom she was constantly engaged in a trial of skill—and the general opinion seemed to be that she turned and twisted about more than the spaniel.” Eliza was just now 21, possibly even celebrating her birthday while on the voyage home. She was an elegant copy of her elegant mother.

A cheering crowd greeted them, led by the mayor. They were the guests of honor at a dinner later that evening, where one person toasted James, “May he receive the just reward of his high merit, by an election to the first rank on earth—President of a free people.”

In his letter to Madison, James also wrote, “It is my intention to set out for Richmond, and leaving my family there, to proceed to Washington, for the purpose of giving you all the information in my power respecting our affairs with the British government.”

Monroe may have felt betrayed by Jefferson and Madison, but he still knew where his duty was, and he was not about to be accused of shirking it.

The Monroes were greeted by cheering crowds in Williamsburg, where they stopped on their way to Richmond, and in Richmond. More than 200 well-wishers and supporters crowded into Bell’s Tavern for an evening of food, drinks, music, toasts, and speeches. One elderly woman grabbed James by the hands and loudly proclaimed, “Sir, we have determined to make you President.” The Governor of Virginia wrote James to say “Yield not one inch of ground [in Washington.] You stand (as you ought) well with your old friends.”

For his part, James was still not sure he should seek to displace Madison for the nomination. He informed the Old Republicans that he was not a candidate, but would accept a public office if elected. But it was already late December, and the Republican caucuses were scheduled for January. And as we know, Madison had one thing on his side that no one else had: Dolley.

But Madison also had one big thing working against him, namely Jefferson’s total embargo on trade with all countries, which was causing economic pain to no one except America. Madison was by no means going to walk away with the Republican nomination. And after his meeting with Jefferson and Madison, Monroe was much more willing to challenge Madison for the nomination.

It wasn’t that Jefferson and Madison were rude to him; quite the opposite. They went out of their way to be polite, not the way old friends going back decades should be with one another. There was no discussion of foreign affairs or what James had accomplished during his mission to Europe, and there was no discussion of a future role for him. They talked only of superficial things. By the time he left Washington, James was convinced that he needed to challenge Madison.

But as we know from last season, his challenge went nowhere. The Republicans held several caucuses over the next few weeks. At the first one, of the 89 attendees, 83 voted for Madison, and 3 each for Monroe and Vice President George Clinton. At the next caucus, Monroe received 57 of 67 possible votes. But at the third and final caucus, all 100 present voted for Madison. Monroe’s quasi-campaign for the Republican nomination was over. Madison would be the nominee, and as we know, he went on to win the election of 1808.

When James’s uncle had died in early 1806, he had left James half of a property he owned in Loudon County, which is about 35 miles from Washington. Uncle Jones left the other half to his son, but then he also died, leaving James his half. So James had 2200 acres of plantation land added to his assets column, but his Albemarle County property was in bad shape. In the end, James took out a bank loan of $10,000 (about $287,000 in today’s money). He used 2500 of his 3500 acres at Highland as collateral for the loan, along with the 30 slaves on the Highland plantation.

The Monroes returned to Highland in April 1808, when it was too late in the season to plant anything. So James decided to turn his attention to the fall planting season. He decided to abandon tobacco, which was too hard on the soil, and depleted it of nutrients within a few years. Instead he planted mostly grains, and he had a mill on-site to turn the grain into wheat, and a still to distill some of it into liquor. He also planted wine grapevines imported from Bordeaux, and a large flower garden for Elizabeth to enjoy.

The Monroes were undoubtedly enjoying their escape from London, and this time at Highland seems to have been quite happy. Elizabeth was teaching little Maria to play the pianoforte, and Eliza would accompany her on the harp. Because of the 15 year age difference between Eliza and Maria, Eliza was more like a second mother to Maria than a sister, especially because Elizabeth’s difficult health sometimes indisposed her for long periods of time. Even though they were out of the awful London weather and polluted air, Elizabeth’s rheumatoid arthritis was a constant problem.

The Monroes also reestablished their social relationships with Virginia friends, which must have been delightful for them after the social snubs of London. One family they did not renew their socializing with was the Madisons. The rift between the two Jameses was not going to be easily repaired.

Throughout the spring and summer 1808, a frequent visitor to Highland was 42-year-old George Hay, a Virginia Republican and the U.S. Attorney who had unsuccessfully prosecuted Aaron Burr for treason after his intrigues with Britain and Spain against the U.S. By the end of summer, he and Eliza had become engaged, and they were married in September. As a wedding present, James gave them a home in Richmond, called Ashfield.

James did not attend Madison’s inauguration in March, 1809. By this point, he and Jefferson had resumed correspondence and were mostly back on good terms with one another. But the rift with Madison remained.

Once Jefferson left Washington and returned to Monticello, he and James resumed socializing in person. The Monroes’ Highland plantation was only a couple of miles from Monticello, so it was easy for them to spend time together. But Monroe pointedly stayed away when he knew that the Madisons would be visiting.

At some point either late in 1809 or early in 1810, James and Elizabeth became grandparents. The uncertainty is frustrating. Harlow Giles Unger writes that Eliza was pregnant by the end of the year after marrying George Hay, but that was in 1808. He then writes that the baby was born in early 1810, but that’s physically impossible because human gestation only lasts nine months. 

Wikipedia does not list a birth month or year for the baby, but various other online sources list September 1809. The problem is that once one source puts a date on something, many other sources refer back to it, creating an infinite loop that may or may not be correct. Both Unger and Tim McGrath quote a letter James wrote to Eliza during her pregnancy, but it’s dated July 1809, which works for either a September 1809 birth or an early 1810 birth. In it, he tells Eliza “Your courage will never fail you.”

There’s another letter quoted by McGrath in which James told his son-in-law that he was “anxious to be acquainted with my young relative.” McGrath’s end notes are very difficult to parse, because he doesn’t cite for individual quotes, but lumps a bunch together by paragraph, and then tries to cite for all of them in the same end note. I believe that his end notes indicate that this letter was written September 24, 1809, which indicates that the baby had been born by then. So let’s go with that, shall we?

This is probably more background information than you need, but it just goes to show that everything needs to be taken with a grain of salt, because even books by prominent authors published by major publishing houses seem to be riddled with errors and factual inconsistencies. Remember that the next time you’re reading a history book yourself!

So anyway, in September 1809, Eliza gave birth to a baby girl, and they named her Hortensia Monroe Hay. She was named after Eliza’s friend from her Paris boarding school, Hortense de Beauharnais, who at this point was the Queen of Holland. Napoleon had invaded the Netherlands and then installed his brother, Hortense’s husband, on the throne in 1806. 

Queen Hortense was the baby’s godmother, although they never met as far as I can tell. It doesn’t seem that Eliza ever saw her friend again after her marriage to Louis Bonaparte. Fun fact: if you listened to the supplemental episodes between seasons 4 and 5, you may remember hearing about Napoleon’s nephew who became Napoleon III, the last monarch of France. Well, Hortense de Beauharnais was his mother.

The Monroes and Maria Hester were delighted with the new baby. In February 1810, James wrote to George Hay that Maria enjoyed “contriving many ways of amusing Hortensia, who always forms one of her society, in her play with her dolls.” Eliza and Hortensia spent a good deal of time at Highland if George was away working, and the Monroes spent time at Ashfield whenever James’s business brought him to Richmond.

As we know from last season, Madison’s presidency got off to rough start because his Cabinet picks were unsuited for their roles, and relations with the British and French were deteriorating rapidly. As Harlow Giles Unger writes in his book, The Last Founding Father: James Monroe and a Nation’s Call to Greatness:

“Madison had been a superb political theoretician but he was no leader. With no defined policy of his own when he took office, he filled his cabinet with Republican sycophants and either bowed to pressures of Republican senators or kept Jefferson’s policies in place. …In evident need of help in managing foreign affairs, Madison asked intermediaries to determine Monroe’s willingness to return to government. Monroe replied coyly that he was always ready to serve his nation.”

Let’s leave aside the fact that in May 1809, James wrote to a friend, “I am now withdrawn from publick life, & may remain so for years if not for ever.” Let’s see, where have we heard that before? Oh right, only from every man who ever then went on to become president.

There were a few detours along the way though, starting with reelection to the Virginia House of Delegates in the spring of 1810. Despite his constant pleas that he could not afford government service and that it took him away from his farms, James was still an ambitious man, and he still wanted to have a prominent role in American politics. He thought he might be able to parlay the House of Delegates position into another term as governor. It would at least allow him to stay in Virginia and presumably have enough time to both serve his state and manage his farms. We have no idea what Elizabeth thought about any of this.

Shortly after being reelected to the House of Delegates, James went to Washington, ostensibly to meet with officials to defend his expenses in Europe, for which he still had not been paid. It’s one thing to not be able to afford government service because your salary is too low and you keep exceeding it. It’s quite another to not even be paid.

But while James was in Washington, he was able to meet with President Madison, whom he had not seen in more than two years, since his return to America late in 1807. Their reunion went well, and they ended it on friendly terms. 

When the Virginia legislature convened in the autumn, James used his stature as an elder statesman to press his colleagues to demand that Congress increase America’s defensive readiness. Relations with Britain and France were so bad, he sensed that a war was coming, but it was still an open question with whom. In December 1810 or January 1811 (again, the sources conflict), James caught a lucky break, given to him by President Madison.

A federal judge died, and Madison appointed the sitting Virginia governor, John Taylor, to the position, which then opened up the governorship. James’s fellow House of Delegates members wasted no time in electing him to the position. It would be his fourth term as Virginia governor, but it would be a short one.

In March 1811, James received a letter from President Madison. I won’t quote the letter directly because the language is circular, and Madison tip-toes around the subject. Monroe’s reply to him does the same. In a nutshell, Madison was about to force out his duplicitous Secretary of State, Robert Smith. He knew he needed someone who was not only competent, but also trustworthy, to lead America’s foreign relations department. He asked James to consider taking the role.

James was reluctant to abandon the governorship so soon after starting it, so he told Madison that he would need to publicly state the dire need for Monroe to join the Cabinet, in order to give Monroe political cover for jumping from state to federal service. Madison was willing to do this, so Monroe accepted the job.

The Lieutenant Governor of Virginia took over as governor, James left Highland under the watchful eye of a former Monticello overseer, and he departed for Washington without his family in April 1811. When he arrived, he took a room at a boarding house and got to work.

Both the British and the French ministers to the United States were surprised to now be dealing with a firm hand at the State Department. They had gotten used to Robert Smith’s lackadaisical approach to enforcing America’s rights. James nearly shouted at the French minister, Louis Sérurier, “your government abandons us to the attacks of its enemies and ours…[the U.S. government’s patience] is exhausted and…it is determined to make itself respected.”

James was unhappy to be separated from Elizabeth and Maria, and he and Elizabeth exchanged letters that are now lost to us. He decided to spruce up the Loudon County property he had inherited from his uncle so that the family could be based there instead of Highland, which was much further away.

With Congress in recess for the summer, Monroe and Madison rode home to Virginia together after Monroe had been in Washington for only a couple of months. Monroe returned to Highland and his family, but he visited Madison at Montpelier and Jefferson at Monticello throughout the summer. The three statesmen, along with Dolley and Elizabeth, enjoyed a social dinner at Monticello in September, before the two Jameses returned to Washington.

Monroe decided to take Elizabeth and Maria with him back to Washington. During his absence earlier in the year, Eliza and Hortensia had stayed with them at Highland, but they now returned to Ashfield. James rented a three-story brick home on I Street between 20th and 21st streets. Elizabeth decorated the home with furniture they had brought back from France. The Monroes often attended Dolley’s drawing room receptions.

The Monroes also hosted dinners in their I Street home, and they were apparently a success. Congressman (and future Navy Secretary) Benjamin Crowninshield’s wife wrote to her mother after one dinner, 

“Mrs. Monroe is a very elegant woman. [It was] the most stylish dinner I have been at. The serving dishes were silver and set round [a silver waiter in the center of the table], the plates were handsome china, the forks silver, and so heavy I could hardly lift them to my mouth, dessert knives silver, and spoons, very heavy…Mrs. Monroe…was dressed in a very fine muslin worked in front and lined with pink, and a black turban close and spangled. Her daughter Mrs. Hay, a red silk sprigged in colors, white lace sleeves and a dozen strings of coral round her neck. Her little girl…dressed in plaid. The drawing room lighted—transparent lamps I call them: three windows, crimson damask curtains, tables, chairs and all the furniture French.”

Despite her elegant appearance and the success of her dinner parties, Elizabeth was still suffering from rheumatoid arthritis, and sometimes her pain was so bad, she was confined to bed. In those instances, Eliza traveled from Ashfield to host in her mother’s place.

When Congress reconvened in November, they needed to take up James’s appointment as Secretary of State. Madison had made the move as a recess appointment, and the Senate still needed to approve him. There was some push-back, but in the end, he was unanimously confirmed.

The year 1811 closed out with two tragedies. First, there was a fire in the Richmond Theater, which killed 72 people, including the governor and his wife. This was the former lieutenant governor who had replaced James when he went to Washington. If James had remained governor, he and Elizabeth very well could have perished in that fire.

The second tragedy was more personal—Eliza suffered a miscarriage, likely in her second trimester. Her husband George wrote to James that a letter from him would do much to make her feel better, writing, “I do not think that you are fully Sensible of the value which we both put on a line from Washington.”

As we know from last season, the winter of 1811-12 did nothing to ease tensions between America and Britain or between America and France. James had previously been of the opinion that a diplomatic solution could be achieved with Britain—and he had tried hard in his time as minister there to make that happen. But he gradually changed his mind and became convinced that war was going to be the only way out. He wrote to a friend of his in London, Lord Auckland, 

“War, dreadful as the alternative is, could not do us more injury than the present state of things and would certainly be more honorable to the nation and gratifying to the public feelings. … I came into the office which I now hold with the best disposition to promote…an accommodation of all differences between our two countries…but under the instructions of your minister here, it has been utterly impossible to succeed. … Instead of the insults and injuries which are so constantly offered to the United States…treat us as a nation having rights, possessing power, and much sensibility to national honor, and the result could not fail to be satisfactory.”

But again, as we know, it would take nearly three years of war to get Britain to treat the U.S. the way James outlined in this letter.

The current American chargé d’affaires in Britain, John Spear Smith, reported to the Secretary of State, “England is not disposed to pay that respect and attention to the rights of the United States.”

Throughout the spring of 1812, Madison and Monroe built the case for war. Monroe wrote seven essays that were published in the National Intelligencer. Here’s a sample: “If the reports we now hear are true, that with England all hope of honorable accomplishment is at an end…let war be forthwith proclaimed against England. … [While] it is said that we are not prepared for war…our preparations are adequate to every essential object.”

Hmm, are they though?

In June 1812, ready or not, America declared war on Britain. Don’t worry, we’re not going to do another deep dive into the War of 1812. I think we pretty well covered that last season. But we will revisit some aspects of it from Monroe’s perspective, instead of from Madison’s.

But before we get to that, James had to deal with a family war at Highland. While James and Elizabeth were in Washington, Eliza and George Hay would periodically check in on Highland. I haven’t talked much about James’s brothers, but they were both pretty much useless. His brother Joseph, a widower with three children, was temporarily staying at Highland, until a position in the Mississippi Territory opened up for him. 

Eliza could be very high-handed, and apparently, when she and Hortensia arrived at Highland in July 1812, she was not pleased to find her uncle Joseph doing nothing useful at the plantation. As George Hay put it in his letter to James, suggesting he come to Highland at once, “Eliza seems very much opposed to be her uncle’s guest in her father’s house.”

James and Elizabeth made the trip back to Highland to mediate the dispute, and James made it clear that Eliza was in charge in their absence. Joseph stormed off in a huff, abandoning his three daughters. I don’t know how old any of them were, but James made clear that he would help them out financially as best he could, but that they would have to live elsewhere. And so, as with every other family we’ve discussed on this podcast, the Monroes had their own family drama to deal with while also dealing with important national matters.

Next week, we’ll blow through the War of 1812 in only one episode, as opposed to the three episodes we spent on it last season.

Thanks for listening to this episode. It was produced by me, and the music is by Matt Dull. Please leave a rating or review on your podcast player so I can reach more people. Thanks!