[Transcript]
Hello, and welcome to America’s First Ladies. I’m your host, Risa Weaver-Enion.
Episode 5.7 The War of 1812, Again
We left off last week in the summer of 1812. The United States had just declared war on Great Britain, and James Monroe was serving as President Madison’s Secretary of State. He would rather have been more directly involved in the fighting. He even went so far as to muse to friends whether he could resign from the Cabinet to join the Army, and then re-join the Cabinet after the war.
After General William Hull inexplicably surrendered without a fight to British General Brock at Detroit, James wrote to Jefferson that Hull’s conduct was “weak, indecisive…[and a] most disgraceful event.” He wrote to Kentucky Senator Henry Clay, “I most sincerely wish that the President could dispose of me at this juncture in the military line. … I would, in a very few days, join our forces assembling beyond the Ohio, and endeavor to recover the ground which we have lost.”
But President Madison wasn’t dumb enough to send his much-needed Secretary of State into battle. As a sign of how much Madison needed Monroe, the president wanted to keep America’s “navy,” which was only 12 ships strong, in port in New York, to prevent them from being captured. But Monroe pointed out, “[I]f stationed together…the British would immediately block up [the port]...and then harass our coast and commerce without restraint. … While our frigates are at sea, they would annoy the enemy’s commerce…excite alarm…and even give protection to our own trade by drawing at times the enemy’s squadron off from our own coast.”
The naval captains agreed, and we know from last season that America was surprisingly more successful against the British at sea than on land, even though the reverse should have been true.
The war kept James so busy that he didn’t have time to get away to Highland, but the Loudon County property, which he called Oak Hill, was significantly closer, and he was able to spend time there with Elizabeth and Maria. Eliza, Hortensia, and George Hay visited Oak Hill when they could.
One of James’s interesting duties as Secretary of State consisted of issuing letters of marque. That’s marque spelled m-a-r-q-u-e. I’ve mentioned this in passing before but never explained what it means. A letter of marque was basically a government sanction to be a pirate. A ship with a letter of marque could lawfully engage in privateering, which we have talked about several times.
Privateers would harass and capture enemy ships at sea, seize their cargo, and sell it, distributing the proceeds among the ship’s crew, with the ship’s owner receiving the largest share. You may recall from episode 5.1 that Elizabeth’s father Lawrence had made a good deal of money during the French and Indian War as a privateer.
In his instructions to the commissioned privateers, James told them to attack and seize British ships, “with all the justice and humanity which characterize the nation of which you are members.”
We know from last season that Madison’s war cabinet was not filled with the most competent men. Secretary of War Eustace, in particular, had no military background, and Secretary of the Navy Hamilton was often drunk. It wasn’t exactly a secret that these men were incompetent either. Senator William H. Crawford wrote to James, “The only difficulty I had in declaring war, arose from the incompetency of the men to whom the principal management of it was to be confided.”
Secretary Eustace resigned in December 1812, and then Secretary Hamilton also resigned. Madison appointed William Jones to the Navy Department, and he wanted Monroe to take over War, but that would leave a vacancy at State. Some people suggested that Madison ask Jefferson to come back and serve as Secretary of State, but that would have raised other issues, mostly among Federalists and others who already thought that the Virginians had too strong a hold on American government.
So Madison decided to make James Acting Secretary of War and make Treasury Comptroller Richard Rush Acting Secretary of State. This is the same Richard Rush who will later become Attorney General, in case you remember his name from last season.
Congress outright refused to confirm James permanently as Secretary of War, so he did what he could to reorganize and strengthen the department in the limited time he had. President Madison asked a variety of men to take over the War Department, but he was turned down by everyone until he got to John Armstrong.
Armstrong had fought in the Revolutionary War, and in fact, he had been one of the instigators of the officers’ mutiny in spring 1783. This was the mutiny General George Washington quelled by subtly reminding his officers of all that had been sacrificed to war, telling them, “Gentlemen, you will permit me to put on my spectacles, for I have not only grown gray, but almost blind, in the service of my country.” We discussed this incident way back in episode 1.8.
Armstrong had also been a Senator, had been minister to France after Livingston and Monroe negotiated the Louisiana Purchase, and had been commissioned as a Brigadier General when the War of 1812 began. He had presidential ambitions, and so did James. By bringing Armstrong into the Cabinet, Madison was imperiling Monroe’s chances to succeed him to the presidency, but he felt that he had no choice. Armstrong had military experience and was someone Congress would confirm. We know from last season that Madison would greatly regret this decision. In fact, if Armstrong hadn’t been in charge of the War Department, it’s possible that the British would not have been able to reach Washington and burn it. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
James returned to his post as Secretary of State. As such, he was the one to receive the communiqué from minister to Russia, John Quincy Adams, that the Russian tsar would like to offer his mediation services to help end the war. But as we know from last season, the British ultimately rejected that suggestion, referring to the war as a “family matter.”
In the summer of 1813, President Madison was deathly ill for over a month, which we discussed in detail last season. Vice President Elbridge Gerry was also ill at the same time, so when reports started arriving of a British squadron of ships at the mouth of the Potomac, it fell to James and General Armstrong to deal with the threat.
As he would the following summer, Armstrong denied that the British were any threat to Washington, but James wanted to see for himself. He rode out with a detachment of soldiers and militiamen into Maryland. He came across some British soldiers attacking mostly unarmed Maryland militiamen, and Monroe with his soldiers drove off the British. He wrote to the president asking for more men, writing, “I will take charge of this little expedition if carried into effect.” But it was not to be. Madison ordered Monroe back to Washington, and the British eventually disappeared back into the Chesapeake Bay. It turns out the Potomac was too shallow for their frigates. Washington was safe. For now.
Elizabeth and Maria seem to have been at Highland for most of the summer. James made a visit there to see them in September. Likely they were escaping the oppressive humidity of a Washington summer. James wrote to his old friend Fulwar Skipwith, “Our two daughters are everything to us which we could desire. Mrs. Hay, whom you knew to be remarkably gay & lively, when a girl, is now…delighted only in her own family, & the society of her mother and sister. Maria, now in her 11th year, delicate in her health…is at her age like her sister.” The Monroes spent Christmas 1813 in Washington.
In early 1814, after rejecting Russia’s mediation offer, Britain suggested that the two sides meet on their own to negotiate peace. But with Napoleon’s surrender (his first surrender) after the Battle of Leipzig, the British really had no reason to give in to any of the Americans’ demands. Albert Gallatin, one of the peace commissioners in London, wrote to Monroe, “[the British] mean to inflict on America a chastisement that will teach her that war is not to be declared with impunity against Great Britain.”
President Madison met with his Cabinet to put together instructions for the peace commissioners. In his book, James Monroe: A Life, Tim McGrath explains what happened next. “For two days, cabinet members argued whether to have the commissioners insist on keeping impressment at the forefront. They decided to drop it, to be negotiated later. In other words, Madison, as president, would accept the terms Monroe and William Pinkney had wrought from the British in 1806 that Madison, as secretary of state, would not. Monroe, realizing this tacit vindication came during wartime, refrained from any public or private comment.”
But seriously, how strong must the urge to say “I told you so!” have been for James Monroe?
In the summer of 1814, it became apparent that the British were once again in a position to threaten Washington. And once again, Secretary of War Armstrong scoffed at the reports. James prepared a report on the city’s defenses, but Madison refused to let him publish it in the local newspaper, fearing it would cause the citizens to panic. Monroe just wanted them to be prepared.
On August 18, 1814, James received a note from the British Commander in Chief of the fleet that had just appeared on the Chesapeake Bay, Alexander Cochrane. Remember last season when the Americans burned the capital of Upper Canada, York—now called Toronto, Ontario? Well as proof that the burning of Washington was payback, one needs only read the note from Cochrane:
“Having been called on by the Governor General of the Canadas to aid him in carrying into effect measures of retaliation against the Inhabitants of the United States, for the wanton destruction committed by their Army in Upper Canada it has become imperiously my duty…to issue to the Naval Force under my Command an order to destroy and lay waste such Towns and Districts upon the Coast as may be found available.”
Monroe was once again proved right, even though Armstrong continued to deny that the British threatened Washington. James sent Elizabeth and Maria to the safety of Oak Hill and packed all the papers of the State Department along with the contents of his house onto some boats and sent them upriver. And then, with Madison’s permission, he put together a scouting party. He stationed men every 10-12 miles along the route back to Washington so that messages between him and the president could be transmitted as quickly as possible.
We’ve already done the blow-by-blow of the British attack on Washington, so I won’t rehash it this season. We even incidentally covered much of what Monroe was doing in the days just before the attack. His scouting was undoubtedly useful to the president, even if there was little that could be done to protect Washington.
As we know, the president himself eventually rode out to meet up with Monroe, Armstrong, General Winder, and others. Madison and Monroe were both perilously close to the British army, probably not the best place for the president and secretary of state. One fun fact for fans of military history: this was the first use of the Congreve rocket on American soil. This was British artillery designed in 1808 by inventor Sir William Congreve. Tim McGrath describes the rocket this way:
“Launched from tripod-mounted cylinders, the rockets could reach two hundred miles per hour, belching fire and smoke from their tails with banshee-like screams. The rockets were not meant to inflict casualties but to terrify the enemy. On this day they did.”
With these rockets literally screaming overhead, General Winder suggested that the president should withdraw from the field. Monroe later wrote, “After some pause, the President remarked to the Secretary of War and myself, that it would now be proper for us to retire in the rear, leaving the movement to military men, which we did.” Wise move.
Later that night, as the president, attorney general, and others rode across the river to Virginia, James stayed behind in Washington. But as the British entered and started putting everything to the torch, he realized it was pointless to stay, so he also retreated to Virginia. He ended up, coincidentally, at the same house where Dolley Madison was staying. He assured her that Madison had safely escaped the capital, but we know that Dolley would not be reunited with her husband until the next day.
When Monroe and Madison toured the torched city a few days later, after the British had withdrawn, Monroe said, “Never was there a time when greater promptitude, decision, & energy were necessary.” At a Cabinet meeting a few days later, Commodore John Rodgers summed up what had happened, “The late disaster is the result of a desperate enterprise of the enemy and a too confident security on our part.” And no one bore more blame for the “too confident” portion of that statement than Secretary of War Armstrong.
Armstrong resigned, finally, and President Madison once again named Monroe as Acting Secretary of War. As Harlow Giles Unger writes in, The Last Founding Father: James Monroe and a Nation’s Call to Greatness, “Now in full command, Monroe acted swiftly and deliberately, calling in militia from other states, ordering and distributing supplies, and setting up an intelligence system and teams of riders to transmit intelligence to his headquarters. … He was everywhere, immersing himself in every detail of the city’s defense… His was an inspiring presence that rallied citizen spirits—bound the best of them as one to save their city from further assault.”
By September 14, the British had completely withdrawn from the Chesapeake Bay, after their unsuccessful shelling of Fort McHenry near Baltimore. The government slowly returned to Washington, and most of it had to set up in temporary quarters. The Monroes were able to move back into their house, because it had not been burned. On September 26, the Senate voted to confirm Monroe as permanent Secretary of War, by a vote of 24 to 2. Madison had some difficulty finding someone to replace Monroe as Secretary of State, so Monroe kept that position as Acting Secretary of State, essentially swapping his two titles.
As we learned last season, the peace treaty ending the war was signed at the end of December 1814, but the news didn’t reach America until February 1815, shortly after the news of Andrew Jackson’s decisive victory at the Battle of New Orleans in early January. And as we also learned last season, the war accomplished very little. Under the terms of the peace treaty, relations between the United States and Great Britain were returned to the status quo ante bellum: the state of things before war. Harlow Giles Unger sums up the futility of the war in a manner that will sound familiar to us in 2026:
“On paper at least, the war had been a total waste: it left 1,877 Americans dead and 4,000 wounded and had cost millions of dollars in war materiel. It had cost tens of millions of dollars in lost domestic and foreign trade and provoked the collapse of the economy and national bankruptcy—and the United States had failed to achieve any of the goals for which it went to war.” Too bad no one in our current government knows the first thing about history.
Naturally, the Madison Administration had an overly rosy view of what the war had accomplished. Monroe wrote to Jefferson, “This treaty has been extorted from the British ministry. The late victory at New Orleans terminates this contest, with peculiar advantage, & even splendour, to the United States.” He was more circumspect in his personal writings covering this time period. He wrote “our Union has gained strength…by the contest” but he also felt that the war “made trial of the strength and efficiency of our government.” Meaning, the inefficiency of the U.S. government was almost its undoing.
By the end of the war, the Monroe family’s health was a mess. James had been working around the clock for months, and he had spent more time in the saddle than any other time in his life. At one point, he supposedly wore the same clothes for 10 days straight, not having enough time to even change. Friends thought he was ill because he had lost so much weight.
Elizabeth wasn’t much better off. The news of the burning of Washington had sent her into a deep depression that even the antics of 13-year-old Maria couldn’t combat. At Ashfield, Eliza collapsed after hearing about the destruction of Washington, fearing that her father had died. Even after being assured that James was alive and mostly well, Eliza was despondent.
On March 15, 1815, James relinquished the Secretary of War appointment, turning it over temporarily to Treasury Secretary Alexander Dallas. Madison intended to replace Monroe at the War Department with William Crawford, but he was still on his way home from France, where he had been serving as minister. James returned to being Secretary of State, but first took a desperately needed vacation.
First he went to Oak Hill to reunite with Elizabeth and Maria, then they all went to Highland to recuperate. At some point they went to Ashfield to see Eliza, whose spirits revived somewhat upon seeing her parents in person. After briefly returning to Washington to take care of some government business, James and the entire family, the Hays included, went to Highland for the summer. By late July James was still looking haggard, so his doctor recommended a visit to the warm springs of Virginia. He and Elizabeth visited three springs over the course of a month, their first getaway as a couple since their honeymoon way back in 1786.
Upon their return from the warm springs, James was feeling and looking much better. There’s no word on whether the springs may have helped Elizabeth’s rheumatoid arthritis, but it certainly seems possible. James had by then officially decided to run for president in the 1816 election, and he asked his son-in-law George Hay to be his campaign manager.
Up to this point, the Republican nominating process had been mostly a formality. It had gone without saying that Jefferson would be their nominee in the election of 1800, and then Madison faced only marginal opposition (from Monroe, no less) for the 1808 nomination. But Monroe was not going to simply be anointed by the Republicans. For starters, three of the first four presidents had hailed from Virginia. There was definitely a sense of Virginia fatigue in the nation. One Vermont newspaper ran this satirical list of reasons to vote for Monroe:
“1st. He was born in Virginia. 2nd. He was educated in Virginia. 3rd. He lives in Virginia. 4th. Washington, Jefferson, and Madison were and are of Virginia. 5th. He is a friend of Virginia. 6th. The last two Presidents lived in Virginia.”
James had to contend with three other potential candidates: DeWitt Clinton of New York, who had unsuccessfully challenged Madison in 1812; New York governor Daniel Tomkins; and William Crawford, who had been born in Virginia but raised in Georgia, and who had replaced James as Secretary of War.
Clinton had no real support, and Tomkins was well liked in New York, but not well known outside of it. Crawford was the most serious challenger to Monroe, but then he withdrew from the race. He was still fairly young at 44 years old, and he could afford to wait out two potential Monroe terms and run for president in 1824. He was afraid that if he challenged Monroe now and lost, it would forever damage his political career.
As part of his effort to win over Congressmen, the Monroes courted the most influential citizens of Washington: the Congressional wives. They threw a steady stream of dinner parties at their I Street home, and their invitations were never declined. As Tim McGrath writes, “Jefferson’s lack of tradition and Dolley Madison’s freewheeling chatter were replaced by an understated elegance: not cold, by any means, but reflecting European class mixed with American openness.”
Guests arrived at 5 o’clock and dinner was served promptly at 6. Men’s fashions had changed in the new century, and most men wore evening trousers with a stirrup that extended underneath the shoe or boot, but Monroe continued to wear his old-fashioned knee breeches. You’ve seen this look in every painting of George Washington ever. Ladies wore colorful gowns with lots of lace ruffles and garlands of flowers. Turbans and other headdresses were still popular.
One socialite left this recollection of a dinner at the Monroes: “With Mrs. Munroe [sic] I am really in love. If I was a Washingtonian you might say I worshipped the rising sun—but as I am not, you will believe my admiration sincere. She is charming and very beautiful. She did me the honor of asking to be introduced to me and saying ‘she regret’d very much she was out when I called’ &c and, tho’ we did not believe all these kinds of things it is gratifying to the vanity to hear them. It would not however have flatter’d me half so much from Mrs. Madison.”
By the way, this woman who claimed she was not a Washingtonian lived in Georgetown, which today is very much part of Washington, D.C.
In the end, as you know, Monroe won both the Republican nomination and the election of 1816. The Federalist party was all but disintegrated, but Rufus King appeared on the ballot opposite Monroe. He knew it was futile, writing that the result was so certain, there was no point in the newspapers even mentioning that there was a Federalist candidate. The electoral college vote was 183 for Monroe and 34 for King. The only states Monroe lost were Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Delaware. New York Governor Tompkins easily won the vice-presidential nomination on Monroe’s ticket, and therefore the vice presidency itself.
One of the final things James did as Secretary of State was to recommend to Congress that it hire John Trumbull, Revolutionary War veteran turned painter, to paint four large paintings. These four paintings, Declaration of Independence, Surrender of General Burgoyne, Surrender of General Cornwallis, and General George Washington Resigning His Commission, still hang in the Capitol Rotunda. Each one measures 12 feet by 18 feet, and Trumbull was paid $32,000 for their completion, about $756,000 today.
James Monroe was only the second (and last) Revolutionary War veteran to be elected President. The first, of course, was Washington. Monroe also had held the most government positions of any of his predecessors. Adams had been a Continental Congressman, minister to France and Great Britain, and Vice President. Jefferson had been a Continental and Confederation Congressman, governor of Virginia, minister to France, Secretary of State, and Vice President. Madison had been a Continental and Confederation Congressman, a prominent member of the Constitutional Convention, a member of the new U.S. House of Representatives, and Secretary of State. Monroe had been a Confederation Congressman, a U.S. Senator, minister to France, Great Britain, and Spain, Secretary of State, and Secretary of War. And the War of 1812 had greatly increased his national stature.
On March 4, 1817, James was inaugurated as the fifth president of the United States. He was the first president to take the oath of office fully outdoors. Previous inaugurations had been held inside the Capitol Building, but it was still being rebuilt after its 1814 destruction by the British. So the inauguration was held in front of the building temporarily housing Congress, because organizers were afraid the building could not withstand the number of people who would want to cram inside. Technically, George Washington and John Adams were inaugurated outdoors, but they were on the balcony of Federal Hall in Philadelphia.
Close to 8000 people were in the audience for Monroe’s inauguration. Thankfully, it was a beautiful day. One senator’s wife commented that Pennsylvania Avenue was “crowded as far as the eye could extend with carriages of every description, the sidewalks with foot passengers men women and children fiddles fifes and drums altogether a scene picturesque and animating.”
The Monroes departed from their house on I Street at 11:30 in the morning, accompanied by a large number of citizens on horseback. The Madisons were waiting at the inaugural site already, along with all the justices of the Supreme Court. James wore a black suit of “very good homespun.” There’s no record of what Elizabeth wore. It’s also unclear whether Eliza, Hortensia, and Maria Hester were in attendance. I’d venture a guess that they were, but no one mentions it.
In his inaugural address, James said, “I should be destitute of feeling if I was not deeply affected by the strong proof which my fellow citizens have given me of their confidence, in calling me to the high office, whose functions I am about to assume. …It is particularly gratifying to me to enter on the discharge of these duties at a time when the United States are blessed with peace.” He also called for increased harmony among the states, saying, “Discord does not belong to our system. … The American people…constitute one great family with a common interest. … [H]armony among Americans…will be the object of my constant and zealous attentions.”
And then, James’s longtime friend John Marshall administered the oath of office. Afterwards, the Monroes returned home to host a reception. The same woman who had admired the picturesque scene of men, women, and children crowding the sidewalks at the inauguration was less sanguine about the crowd at the Monroes’ home. She wrote, “It was nearly an hour before we could get to the door and then pushing our way through all the scavengers and wash women of the city who were laying hands on the waiters of cake and refreshments.”
Later that evening, an inaugural ball was held at Davis’s Hotel. Unfortunately, there’s no description of what Elizabeth wore. When the ball was over, the exhausted Monroes returned to I Street. It would be another month before the Madisons vacated Octagon House—the official residence of the president while the mansion was being repaired and rebuilt. As we learned last season, the city of Washington was loath to let go of Dolley Madison, so there were many parties and send-offs before the Madisons were finally able to escape home to Montpelier.
Next week, we’ll cover James’s presidency and learn a lot more about foreign relations.
Thanks for listening to this episode. It was produced by me, and the music is by Matt Dull. Thanks to everyone who has left a rating or review, or recommended the podcast to someone. I really appreciate it!
