Episode 5.8 President and Mrs. Monroe

[Transcript]

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

Episode 5.8 President and Mrs. Monroe

Last week we left off just as James was inaugurated as the fifth president of the United States. His first order of business was to name his Cabinet members, which he had actually started working on weeks before.

He started by asking Richard Rush to stay in his post as Attorney General and Benjamin Crowninshield to stay in his as Secretary of the Navy. He also retained William Crawford, the man who had ultimately decided not to challenge him for the presidency, as Secretary of the Treasury. Crawford wanted the State Department, but James had other ideas for that position. 

Two days after his inauguration, he wrote to John Quincy Adams, serving in London as minister to Great Britain, and offered the post to him. James was trying to put together a geographically balanced Cabinet, and John Quincy was a New Englander. As James explained to Jefferson, “I have thought it advisable to select a person from the Eastern States, in consequence of which my attention has been turned to Mr. Adams, who by his age, long experience in our foreign affairs, and adoption into the republican party, seems to have superior pretensions to any there.” The partnership between Monroe and Adams would prove quite fruitful, as we’ll hear.

Secretary of War was a difficult post to fill. His first choice was Henry Clay, but Clay thought the post was beneath him and preferred to stay in Congress as the powerful Speaker of the House. After next offering the post to Kentucky governor Isaac Shelby, who declined on account of his age (he was 67) and then South Carolina Congressman William Lowndes, who took four months before finally declining, James offered the post to another South Carolinian, John Calhoun, currently in the House of Representatives. He accepted the post, believing that it would add to his influence in Washington. We’re going to hear a lot more about John Calhoun as we get closer to the Civil War.

Shortly after the Senate confirmed James’s Cabinet choices, Congress adjourned for the spring/summer recess. James decided to take the opportunity to do what no president had done since George Washington in his first term; namely, to make a tour of the country. By 1817, the United States had grown from 13 states to 19, and one more would be added before the end of the year. It was unrealistic to expect to be able to visit all 19 states in one trip—travel was still very difficult in this age, and roads were not well maintained. So James decided to start with the Northern states, much like Washington had, because both of them were Southerners.

Except for the few people who knew a president because they were from the same part of the country as him, or because they lived in Washington, most Americans had never actually seen a U.S. president in person. According to John Quincy Adams, James’s purpose was “to become acquainted with the people and learn their wants…and inform himself in regard to the resources of the country, and the means necessary to develop them. He likewise desired…to discover the vulnerable points on the sea-coast, and decide how…to provide for their security.”

James intended to travel as a private citizen and pay his own way. To raise the necessary funds though, he made a deal with Congress to sell the government his personal furnishings from France to be used in the new President’s House during his presidency and his successors’. The house was still being reconstructed after being burned by the British in 1814. Congress advanced him $6000 as part of the deal.

He did not intend to subject his family to the arduous travels. They were to return to Highland for the summer and enjoy the peaceful mountain retreat. James set out from Washington on May 31, heading first for Baltimore. By this point, much like when George Washington set out from Mount Vernon to be inaugurated as the first president, the newspapers had published James’s expected route, so crowds greeted him everywhere he went.

He traveled to Delaware and then Philadelphia, and being back in that region brought back many memories of the Revolution and his time in Congress when Philadelphia was still the capital. His reception in Trenton, where he had almost died in the Christmas night raid against the Hessians, was beyond anything he could have anticipated. Cannons were fired, church bells pealed, a military escort was called out, and the citizens gathered and cheered. Veterans of the war lined up to meet the president and shake his hand. He visited the spot where he was shot and almost bled to death.

By June 9 he was in New York City, greeted by thousands of cheering citizens. From there he took a steamship up the Hudson to visit West Point, and then continued on to New England. You might expect the land of the Federalists to have a less than warm welcome for the Republican president, but they turned out in droves as well. They were impressed to see how plainly he dressed and how down to earth he was. The New Haven Herald wrote this description:

“The dress of the President has been deservedly noticed in other papers for its neatness and simplicity. He wore a plain blue coat, a buff under dress, and a hat and cockade of the revolutionary fashion. It comported with his rank, was adapted to the occasion, well calculated to excite in the minds of the people, the remembrance of the day which ‘tried men’s souls.’ It was not the sound of artillery, the ringing of bells, nor the splendid processions alone, from which we are to judge the feelings and sentiments of the people on this occasion—It was the general spirit of hilarity which appeared to manifest itself in every countenance, that evinced the pride and satisfaction with which the Americans paid the voluntary tribute of respect to the ruler of their own choice—to the magistrate of their own creation. The demon of party for a time departed, and gave place for a general burst of National Feeling.”

James then went to Hartford, New London, several stops in Rhode Island, and Boston, where he was the guest of honor at a dinner hosted by the governor and attended by John and Abigail Adams. Even his old nemesis Timothy Pickering attended.

It was a brutal schedule. One local wrote, “I fear the good people of Boston will kill the President with kindness.” Attorney General Rush, who was traveling with James, wrote him a note that said, “Such incessant occupation, such throngs, such excitement, may prostrate. I pray you to consider this and steal rest upon some, upon any terms. … Is there no country tavern at which, giving notice to no one, you can stop, and hide yourself for a few days?”

Leaving Boston on July 8, he visited New Hampshire, traveling all around to various towns. He made it all the way out to Kennebunk and Portland, Maine, before circling back to New Hampshire and through Vermont. Then it was through the northeastern-most point in New York, across Lake Ontario to Fort Niagara, as far west as Detroit, and then into Ohio, stopping in Sandusky and then the small town of Delaware.

Then it was down to southern Ohio, across to Pittsburgh, spending two weeks in western Pennsylvania and finally Maryland. He returned to Washington on September 17, more than three months after setting out. James wrote to George Hay in August, “I have been compelled to answer four or five addresses in a day…I was seldom more than five or six hours in bed. … The committees of arrangement…kept me always in a crowd. … The heat was great, the dust excessive…I knew that if I failed, or even stopped, on account of fatigue, that reports would get into circulation respecting my ill health, which would distress my family, and injure my political standing; I therefore continued to make the greatest exertions in my power.”

Some things never change. But James had pulled off a heroic tour. In 110 days he covered almost 3000 miles, and visited more than 120 cities, towns, and settlements. Some of these places had never seen a president and wouldn’t see another one for decades. 

Just a few days after James returned to Washington, his new Secretary of State, John Quincy Adams, arrived in town after his long journey from London. He had first stopped in Massachusetts to see his parents and introduce them to his wife, Louisa.

Upon his arrival in Washington, Adams met with James and Attorney General Richard Rush, who was going to replace Adams as minister to Britain. They had much to discuss and debrief each other on. James’s primary concern was the budding independence movement in the South American colonies, most of which belonged to Spain. 

Chile was heading quickly toward independence under Bernardo O’Higgins. The country didn’t actually declare independence until February 1818, still a few months away, but Chile had written to James shortly after his inauguration, asking him to establish commercial relations between the U.S. and Chile.

The country we now know as Bolivia was also heading toward independence from Spain. During its colonial days, it was known as either Upper Peru or Charcas. The independence fight had been going on since 1809 under the leadership of Simón Bolívar, for whom the new nation would be named. 

If you want to know more about the various South American independence revolutions, I will once again direct you to Mike Duncan’s excellent podcast titled Revolutions. Season 5 covers South America.

Once Adams was installed at State and Rush had the information he needed to head off to Britain, James was finally able to go to Highland and reunite with his family. He stayed for about a month before bringing them back to Washington on October 20. And the good news was that the restored President’s House was ready to receive the First Family, even though it wasn’t technically finished.

The restoration team had called in the original architect of the President’s House, Irish-American James Hoban, to oversee restoration, which was really more like reconstruction. Although the fires didn’t destroy the exterior of the building, it was heavily damaged. And as we know from last season, the interior was completely destroyed. Tim McGrath describes the amount of work that went into the project in his book James Monroe: A Life:

“For two and a half years, Hoban directed, cajoled, pleaded, finagled, and at times ‘exaggerated’ to get what was needed: Maryland sandstone, English copper and slate, Italian marble, San Domingo mahogany, and American timber. The same went for workers: New York stonecutters, Baltimore and Philadelphia lumbermen, carpenters, bricklayers, blacksmiths, and tinsmiths from everywhere. Work crews included white laborers, indentured servants, and enslaved persons.”

The roof had been one of the first things to be repaired, allowing craftsmen to set up mini workshops inside the house. The walls had enough coats of white paint applied to hide the burn marks. But the interior floors were untreated, wallpaper had not yet been hung, plastering was still wet, and the porticoes were unfinished. The downstairs kitchen was ready for use, but the wings were not, because they still didn’t have roofs.

The house was still not officially called The White House, but it had colloquially been known as the “White House” since around 1811, according to White House historian William Seale. Even before it was painted white after the 1814 burning, it had been constructed of white sandstone, so it had always been fairly white. In addition to the term I use, the President’s House, it was also known as the President’s Mansion, President’s Palace, or Executive Mansion. I will be sticking with President’s House until we get to 1901 when President Theodore Roosevelt officially designates it as The White House via executive order.

Anyway, James and Elizabeth moved back into the President’s House upon their return to Washington in October 1817. The Hay family also moved into the house, and George Hay served as unofficial counsel to James. His wayward brother Joseph was brought on as James’s personal secretary, and their nephew Samuel L. Gouverneur, the son of Elizabeth’s sister Hester, joined the family as an unpaid presidential secretary.

Elizabeth’s illnesses seem to have been getting worse at this point of her life, and living in an unfinished house can’t have been helpful. Maria was 15 at this point, so she was enrolled in a boarding school in Philadelphia (and actually had been for some time, I just haven’t had a chance to mention it). But with Eliza living in the President’s House with her parents, she was on hand to help Elizabeth with whatever she needed.

Redecorating the mansion was going to be a tall order. As I mentioned earlier, the Monroes sold their French furniture to the government to be used as official residence furniture, but the vastness of the rooms of the mansion somewhat dwarfed the fine furnishings. Much more was needed to fill out the house and make it feel appropriately decorated. Congress allocated $20,000 for furniture, which Elizabeth and James used to purchase both American and French pieces. 

James took a leading role in the redecorating process, presumably because Elizabeth was too ill to handle the job herself. In a letter to the Commissioner of Public Buildings, James wrote, “We shall want for the Eastern room one chandelier, and perhaps silk to make curtains, if not to cover the chairs. These articles had better be sent for to Mr. Russell. It may perhaps be better, to send them the height, and size of the windows, and have the curtains made in France for them. On these points Mrs. Monroe will decide. … The carpets must be obtained from Mr. Yard, for the bed rooms and East room. … The chairs for the East room, and tables, and any other articles for that room, and the mahogany benches, small tables, and chairs for the hall, will be made by Mr. Worthington and Mr. King.”

James went so far as to stipulate that some brass clocks ordered from France be adorned with clothed figures instead of the traditional nudes. The American public was far more prudish than the French. In the end, Congress had to allocate an additional $30,000 for the redecoration project, but it was worth it, because some of those pieces are still in the White House today, more than 200 years later.

James held his first official Cabinet meeting on October 25, 1817. Richard Rush attended this meeting, but he would soon leave for Britain and be replaced by William Wirt, a Virginia lawyer. Tim McGrath writes, “The stocky, full-faced Wirt…was appointed by Monroe for his talents as a lawyer; unfortunately, Wirt’s skills were offset by sporadic laziness.”

Secretary of State Adams, Secretary of the Treasury Crawford, and acting Secretary of War George Graham were also in attendance. John Calhoun wouldn’t arrive in Washington until December. The two main topics of discussion were (1) the South American revolutions and whether the U.S. should recognize the new countries as they declared independence, and (2) what to do about smugglers in Amelia Island and Galveston. James established what would be the typical style of his Cabinet meetings going forward: he would present the topic of discussion and let each Cabinet member have his say, but eventually get them to some sort of consensus.

Again quoting from Tim McGrath’s book, “Having recalled the days when George Washington could not get even a basic agreement between his own cabinet (usually due to Hamilton and Jefferson), Monroe wanted his administration unified behind every position taken.”

It took more than one meeting, but the Cabinet finally came to an agreement to remain neutral as concerned the South American revolutions, and to take military action to expel the smugglers.

Much like his father, John Quincy Adams was a faithful diarist, so we have lots of first-hand accounts of the Monroe Administration from his perspective. Here’s what he had to say about the Cabinet: “Wirt and Crowninshield will always be of the President’s opinion, [while] Crawford’s point d’honneur is to differ from me, and to find no weight in any reason assigned by me. [Calhoun has] sound judgment, quick discrimination, and keen observation.”

On December 2, James delivered his first annual message to Congress. Also, I should pause here to note something. I often say that the president delivered this annual message to Congress, but that doesn’t mean he got up in front of Congress and gave a speech, like presidents today do. At this time period, the annual state of the union message was written down and literally delivered as a parcel to Congress, where it was read out loud by someone else, not the president, or just read among various groups of Congressmen. So I just wanted to clarify that little historical point.

James opened with, “At no period of our political existence had we so much cause to felicitate ourselves at the prosperous and happy condition of our country.” In fact, the Treasury was in such good shape, that James recommended repealing all of the internal taxes that had been passed to help fund the War of 1812. He also outlined the challenges still facing the country, including deteriorating relations with Spain and the question of what to do about recognizing the new countries in South America.

He closed by reminding Congress of the number of Revolutionary War veterans who were in dire financial straits, writing, “These men have a claim on the gratitude of their country, and it will do honor to their country to provide for them. The lapse of a few years more, and the opportunity will be lost forever.”

Presumably the Monroes and Hays spent the year-end holidays in Washington at the President’s House. James had promised to hold the traditional New Year’s Day Open House in the not-quite-but-getting-there renovated mansion. This would be Elizabeth’s first major social event as the president’s wife, and right away, people could see that things would be done differently.

You may recall from last season how informal Dolley Madison’s drawing room receptions and open houses were. One of my favorite quotes came from Benjamin Latrobe when he described the guests at one reception as “a perfect rabble in beards and boots.” There would be none of that at Elizabeth’s receptions.

To start with, the diplomatic corps would have their own private reception on New Year’s Day, before the public was allowed in. I’m sure you remember from last season how Jefferson tried to do away with all protocol, getting into a lot of diplomatic trouble in the process. James had suffered the direct consequences of that while serving in Britain, and he was going to make corrections.

At 11:30 am, the diplomats and their wives were welcomed to the President’s House with all the appropriate deference. James and the Cabinet welcomed the ministers, who were all dressed in full regalia, while the wives were shown to the Oval Drawing Room, where Elizabeth greeted them. She wore a shimmering white silk dress with a white plumed hat, and while she was almost certainly in pain, because it seems she was in constant pain at this stage of her life, she greeted the ministers’ wives with grace.

At noon, the diplomatic corps departed, and the doors were opened to the public, but not just anyone could get in. Soldiers guarded the door and only allowed entry to guests who met the standard of dress set for the day. This meant that the majority of the guests were Congressmen, department heads, high-level government officials, and all their wives. James, Elizabeth, and Eliza formed a receiving line, greeting guests as they entered. James wore a very dark blue, possibly even black, suit with a white ruffled shirt. There’s no word on what Eliza wore.

Elizabeth was described as looking younger than her years (she was 49 at this point), with one guest writing that Elizabeth was “the most beautiful woman of her age I have ever seen.” One new Congressman wrote that she was “certainly the finest looking woman I saw,” but a foreign minister noted, “[she] did not seem especially to enjoy this affair.” Again, imagine having to host a grand public reception while in so much pain you can hardly stand, and you’ll probably have some idea of how Elizabeth was feeling. 

Congressman Louis McLane of Delaware described the event in a letter to his wife back home, writing:

“The splendor of this scene could not easily be surpassed and it fully gratified the curiosity of all. Large and capacious as were the rooms allotted for the company, they were well filled. … The large hall into which was the entrance, was the space for sauntering, and lounging, and taking breath after the ceremonies in the other apartments had been gone through. Here too was a band of excellent music which played during the day. Immediately back of the hall were four rooms magnificently furnished. The taste and splendor of Europe have contributed to decorate and enrich these rooms: and have given them a splendour which is really astonishing. It would be difficult to pronounce which part of the furniture was most beautiful, though I think the mirrors and chairs were certainly most striking. … [The President was] the same plain honest gentlemanly looking personage, which he at all times appears to be, and in the midst of the splendour by which he was surrounded, inspired every one with admiration for his country and a love for its Chief Magistrate.”

The band he spoke of was the Marine Band, playing for the first time, according to Harlow Giles Unger. At 3 pm the Monroes retired to their private quarters, the servants removed the food and drink, and the guests took the hint that it was time to depart.

The formality of the New Year’s Day Open House wasn’t the only thing that the Monroes were going to change about the President’s social calendar. James would host no more than two formal dinners per week and only when Congress was in session, Elizabeth would neither make nor return social calls, the drawing room receptions would be held every other week instead of every week, formal balls were kept to a minimum, and guests would only be welcome to call on Elizabeth in the morning. If she were too ill to receive them, Eliza stepped in on her behalf. 

The drawing room receptions were as tightly controlled as the New Year’s Day Open House had been. Guests were admitted at 9 o’clock, where James, Elizabeth, and Eliza once again greeted them in a receiving line. The servants offered coffee, tea, and little cakes at 10. And at 11, the Monroes retired to their private quarters and guests were expected to depart. There was generally a band playing quietly, but there was no raucous dancing or card-playing, as there had been at Dolley Madison’s drawing rooms. You can see why a certain kind of person would compare Elizabeth unfavorably to Dolley. But I can also imagine that a fair number of people welcomed the more reserved, understated form of entertaining undertaken by Elizabeth.

But it also proved impossible to keep out the “rabble in beards and boots” from all of the entertainments. Baron Axel Klinkowstrom, a Swede sent to America to evaluate the newly developed steamship, left this account of one of the drawing rooms:

“I judge, every free American that owns ground or carries on his business has the right to appear at the courts of the President’s wife. I noticed some farmers or other men in stained clothes, uncombed hair, unbrushed and muddy boots. Mrs. Monroe’s courts are very interesting for one who…can make a comparison with the court etiquette of the Old World. From the entrance hall below one comes…into a large and attractive rotunda; a little to left of the center…stood Mrs. Monroe. … On arriving all go up to her and bow, and she answers the greeting with a little nod of the head. Mrs. Monroe was very elegantly dressed at the first court; her costume consisted of a white gown of India mull embroidered with gold, her hair braided with pearls and adorned with a lovely diadem of gold set with pearls, and ornaments of pearls adorned her throat, arms, and ears. She seemed to be between thirty and forty years old, medium sized, her face set off to advantage by her beautiful hair.”

As I just said, Elizabeth was actually 49 for the first half of 1818, but show me a 49-year-old woman who wouldn’t be quite happy to be mistaken for between 30 and 40 years old. And some context for her outfit—India mull was a fine sheer fabric, made of either silk or cotton, and a diadem is an ornamental headband or small crown, often jeweled.

One guest left this account of a dinner at the President’s House: 

“I have never seen anything as splendid as the table—a superb gilt plateau in the center with gilt baskets filled with artificial flowers. All of the serving dishes were solid silver, the dessert spoons and forks were silver-gilt. The plates were fine French porcelain. … Mrs. Monroe gave me the most flattering reception; she does the honors with much grace and dignity. She is a charming woman, much superior to the last President’s wife. She is from one of the better families and received an excellent education. She spent several years in France and England when Mr. Monroe was ambassador. Her older daughter, who is married, was educated in Paris and couldn’t be nicer.”

This was written by Rosalie Stier Calvert, whose family had emigrated from Antwerp to Maryland during the French Revolution and who was one of the wealthiest women in America. So for her to say she had never seen a more splendid table is really saying something. I think it also comes through in that quote that she was a huge snob.

And her praise of Eliza can probably be summed up as “game recognize game,” because by all accounts, Eliza was also a huge snob. As Tim McGrath writes, “For all her reserve, Elizabeth was no snob. Her daughter Eliza, who possessed both beauty and a rapier-like wit, was. While many of Madame Campan’s students had gone to meet their maker, some by Madame Guillotine, Eliza had no problem taking what she had learned as a child, flaunting her airs at White House functions, and insisting she be treated with the same honors as her mother when acting in her stead. Harriet Taylor Upton believed Eliza put ‘the social world of Washington’ in ‘a state of elemental earthquake.’ She engaged in a private war with ministers’ wives, insisting they call on her first as with her mother, although Eliza bore no diplomatic rank at all. John Quincy Adams grew to loathe her, while his wife believed Eliza’s ‘love of scandal’ guaranteed ‘that no reputation is safe in her hands.’”

A Boston pastor had this to say about Elizabeth, “Yesterday I visited the palace. Mrs. Monroe…is not as imposing as I expected, her conversation was easy, intelligent and well chosen. She is affable, without being familiar, she does not appear to unbend and yet is not stiff. … She is not particularly interesting in her tout ensemble, but becomes much more so by the action of her mind and manners.” By “tout ensemble” he means her overall impression. But it’s a complimentary report, nonetheless.

And I hope you enjoyed all these first-hand quotes about Elizabeth and her receptions, because that’s the last real information we’re going to get about her.

Next week, we’ll cover the remainder of James’s first term, including a pretty deep rabbit hole surrounding the Missouri Compromise.

Thanks for listening to this episode. It was produced by me, and the music is by Matt Dull.