“The derangement occasioned by the visit of the enemy to this place is much greater than I had supposed. The destruction of the public buildings and papers produces serious inconvenience,” he wrote.
Though he didn’t explicitly say that Mrs. Madison was depressed, he took pity on her because many people had accused the administration of misconduct and condemned them for it. Mason also informed his wife of the political fallout on relocating the capital.
“The expectation of a removal to Philadelphia gains strength. It will be determined in a few days in the House of Representatives,” he observed, though doubtful of the outcome.
“The discussion has created a most violent excitement among the people of this district and vicinity.”
With all of the diplomats assigned to America relocating to Philadelphia, it was no wonder that people in Pennsylvania were confident of eventually becoming the state to hold the nation’s capital once again. What better way to ensure it than to show how inept and undeserving the residents of Washington were to host the capital? What better way to do this than to highlight the many failures of the fiasco?
An observer for Philadelphia’s Democratic Press went to Bladensburg and Washington City and reported his findings. He concluded that there were at least thirty commanding points along the road between Washington and Bladensburg that could have been used to defend the nation’s capital. “How it has been permitted that this ground should be marched over in solid column by the British is now undergoing a serious investigation by a committee in the House of Representatives.”
Indeed. He was correct. Congress’s investigation was wide and far reaching. They asked every military commander, cabinet member, and even the president to submit letters and explanations of their actions to a special committee.
“There is a determination to probe to the bottom, and hold up to public exertion, if not public execution.”
Some thought treason was behind Bladensburg and the invasion of Washington. But treasury, not treason, was the reason. A lack of funds and a failure of the War Department to prepare were among the reasons behind the fiasco.
This observer also told the people of Philadelphia the news they wanted to hear as a capital city in waiting.
“The removal of the seat of government is talked of by everybody.”
Noting that the loss of public and private buildings was estimated at $2 million, he simply couldn’t believe that anyone still believed that Washington City should be the nation’s capital. The people there didn’t deserve it. Indeed, “if you were to see the ground which was shamefully abandoned, and thus the capital left at the mercy of the enemy, and if you were to see the black and desolate ruins of the public buildings, which cost millions, you would stand astonished that any member not personally interested should hesitate to remove the seat of government.”
Albeit tempered, he put forth his belief and hope for Philadelphia’s return as the capital seat. “There is said to be a very large majority in the House of Representatives in favor of removal; the opinion in the Senate is more doubtful.”
Three days later, on October 9, John Van Ness knew what he had to do. He rushed the report to Joseph Gales so it could be published the next day in the newspaper.
Van Ness absolutely could not let politics finish the job that the British military had started. Though Armstrong had failed the militia and military, he could not let Washington City die. And so he held a meeting with other concerned citizens. Together they nominated seven to form a committee to protest those in the House of Representatives who wanted to relocate the capital city. As chairman, he wrote a summary of their discussion and gave it to Gales.
“Resolved, that we view with deep concern the agitation of the question now under consideration in the House of Representatives to remove the seat of government from the city of Washington.”
They considered the measure “repugnant to the Constitution and laws, subversive of public faith, injurious to the community at large, and ruinous to our private interest.”
Mayor James Blake, Charles Carroll, and several other local leaders rallied with him. As a banker, Van Ness knew that Congress didn’t have what Washington most needed to keep the seat of government. But he did. Money. How much would it cost to rebuild the U.S. Capitol and White House? Perhaps the answer to those questions mattered more than any of the others.
News about the peace negotiations came in October, and it wasn’t good, nor was it what Senator King had long expected.
“Enclosed I send you the President’s message of yesterday communicating the late dispatches from Ghent,” King informed Senator Gore. “It would appear from the dispatch of the 19th of August that the negotiation has failed.”
He couldn’t have been more shocked or disappointed in Parliament. For so long he’d been certain that the British wanted peace. Yet, not only had they invaded and burned the capitol, but they had also put forward ridiculous terms for peace. It was as if they were trying to goad the American negotiators into calling off the peace talks. One major sticking point was a desire by the British to create a zone set aside for native tribes between British and U.S. territory.
King ranted two days later in a letter to his friend Mr. Morris, “The enemy now demand that the whole of this region should constitute an Indian reservation or barrier, between their and our territories.”
Not even the pro-British King could reconcile this demand. He could see its implications, particularly if the neutral zone ran along the Mississippi River and affected the Missouri and Mississippi area tribes. Such barriers “would in effect deprive Congress of the power of admitting new states, since these territories alone remained out of which to form them!!!”
His frustration continued unabated. “Our rulers can neither make war, nor conclude peace. What are the minority to do?” he asked.
What King didn’t know was that at about this same time, the U.S. peace commissioners learned of the destruction of Washington. Horrified, John Quincy Adams soon suggested that they offer a plan to the British negotiators to return to the ways things were before the war—including the U.S.-Canadian border. The issue of impressment could be negotiated after a peace treaty in the form of a commerce treaty.
Because an antebellum position violated their current instructions from President Madison, the other commissioners were reluctant to agree to suggest it. But they decided it was worth the risk and tried it. The British accepted, and the two sides began a back-and-forth process to create a treaty. Fortunately, Madison had also come to the conclusion that antebellum was an option and had sent the commissioners permission. They received his new instructions a few weeks after they made the offer to the British.
Though King had no knowledge of these negotiations, he was awakening to the fact that Congress hadn’t done enough to support the war. It was time to step up and do more until peace came. Instead of opposing Madison at every opportunity, King began to seek common ground.
He wrote, “The country is invaded; it is threatened with waste and destruction—must we not unite to defend it, must we not join in granting supplies; ought we not to hold a language firm and which cannot be misunderstood concerning the rights and honor of the nation?”
By this point King had concluded that England’s refusal to make peace was vindictive animosity. The burning of the U.S. Capitol was all the evidence this lawyer needed to justify putting party politics aside and work together with the Republicans for the common good.
King was not the only Federalist in Congress who had awakened to the need to work together and take action. Both members of the House and Senate attended a meeting and agreed to an action plan. The character of the war had changed from futile attempts to invade Canada into a need to defend the east coast. In addition to deciding whether to relocate the capital city and conducting an investigation into why Washington wasn’t better protected, they recognized the need to be proactive. King wrote of the meeting: “It has become the duty of all to unite in the adoption of
vigorous measures to repel the invaders of the country and to protect its essential rights and honor.”
They agreed to the following plan: “Congress should therefore grant supplies of both men and money, provided the same be done pursuant to the provisions of the Constitution, and according to an impartial estimate of the relative ability of the several states.”
Because public credit was destroyed, they agreed on the need to raise taxes, especially indirect taxes, to pay for supplies and resources to fund the war. “The Federalists have at all times been ready and at every hazard to defend, and will be the last to consent to give up, the rights of soil and sovereignty belonging to the Nation. They will therefore concur in the grant of supplies upon equal and constitutional principles.”
One more item of business attracted King’s attention, and all of Washington City’s, that October.
“The subject of removal will I hear be called up again on Monday,” he wrote. “Whether an adjournment to Philadelphia will take place is uncertain. A majority is believed to exist in favor of removal, but they are not united in the place.”
New York was out of the question. There wasn’t enough support for it. “Unless we go to Philadelphia, we might as well remain where we are.”
On October 14, 1814, Gales promptly published the latest debate in the House of Representatives over removing the seat of government. The day before, they had read the bill a second time. If it passed, the act would authorize the removal of the seat of government to another city and tie the return to the city of Washington only after the war had ended and peace was in place.
Mr. Rhea of Tennessee objected to the second reading of the bill because he believed the House ought to concern itself with matters that were more pressing to the nation as a whole, including recent dispatches from Europe that updated the Congress on the status of the peace negotiations.
Congressman Grosvenor of New York regretted the timing of the bill. Too many members of Congress were still absent, he felt, so they should wait until all had returned. Still another congressman believed that they should be focusing on funding the war. This bill delayed them from providing supplies to the army. A waste of time, it was.
Though expecting the measure to pass, Mr. Fisk, the bill’s author, argued: “The increase of expense thus incurred amounted to a greater sum than would the cost of removal of the public officers to Philadelphia or New York.”
Fisk had no sympathy for John Van Ness or other Washington residents. “To brave all these inconveniences merely in consideration of the interests of the people of this district, would be to pervert the constitutional provision which gives Congress exclusive legislation over the district and, instead of that would be giving to the district control over Congress.”
Considering the interests of Washington residents to be the same as those of other Americans, Fisk believed that other citizens had “too much good sense and patriotism to ask Congress merely out of regard to their personal views to compromise the national interests.”
Then he mocked those who had said that the enemy wouldn’t come to Washington. He failed to mention that the man who most doubted the British would come to Washington was Armstrong—a New Yorker, not a local Washingtonian.
Knowing that those who supported removal were from the North and East and those who opposed it were from the South, Fisk put forward perhaps the real reason he had authored the bill: money. He favored monied men, as some described the banking class. He believed that the bankers of the North who’d loaned the government money deserved to know that their investment was safe. In Washington it wasn’t, in his view. “Should not the creditors of the government be satisfied of the safety of Congress?” Yes, they should. Philadelphia and New York City offered better protection for Congress.
Such talk infuriated Mr. Wright of Maryland. Rising and speaking with vigor, he demanded that they vote and put the matter to rest. “Even the savages destroy their victim the same day they begin to inflict the deadly tortures on him.” He hoped the “decision would then put eternally to rest the question of removal, and that this city, established by Washington, would never be broken up on the pretence that monied men would not lend their money here.”
But the final vote didn’t come that day. Not yet. By exercising his freedom to publish the proceedings, Gales knew the record might influence public opinion and the final vote.
Dolley and James Madison sent a strong signal to the people of Washington in October of that year. While Congress debated whether to relocate the capital city, the president and his wife showed their intentions of staying. They moved into the Octagon, the finest private mansion in Washington City, only a short block west of the south grounds of the White House. By moving into this three-story red-brick residence with an oval or bow-shaped front, the Madisons demonstrated that they had no intention of going anywhere.
They also sent Congress another strong signal by entertaining again. The Boston Commercial Gazette took notice, too, reporting that “Mrs. Madison’s levees have recommenced at Washington, not with the splendor of the former ones but apparently with unabated good cheer and hilarity.”
Though a far cry from the stage they had created at the White House, the Octagon, owned by Colonel John Tayloe and designed by William Thornton, gave them a pleasant environment to entertain guests nonetheless.
By resuming entertaining the autumn of 1814, the Madisons showed that they’d been down, but they were not out. They wouldn’t let the loss of the White House keep them from living life. Grief would not defeat them. They would make the most of the two years James had left in his term.
The Madisons put the past behind them by resuming their normal activities. Dolley invited Ruth Barlow for a more intimate dinner. She inscribed a kind note to the Russian diplomat’s wife. She offered to help Elizabeth Bonaparte, the American sister-in-law of the deposed Napoleon, to obtain discreet passage to Europe.
Deciding to honor the brave in the Battle of Fort McHenry and Baltimore, she sent a very special gift to Minerva Rodgers, the wife of Commodore Rodgers, who lived in Havre de Grace.
“I beg you and my estimable friend, your husband, to accept a dimijohn of pure wine saved from the President’s House the morning of its destruction.”
Together James and Dolley were leading Washington back to normal.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Presidents’ Club
As Madison emerged with determination in the autumn of 1814, he received direct and indirect strength from the three presidents who had preceded him. He also unknowingly directed the destiny of the three presidents to follow him.
“It is very long since I troubled you with a letter,” Jefferson began, “but in the late events at Washington, I have felt so much for you that I cannot withhold the expression of my sympathies.”
When he read Jefferson’s letter a month after the destruction of the capital, Madison immediately detected the spirit of friendship and camaraderie that he’d long enjoyed with the bookish Jefferson. Years earlier the pair had selected books that should be part of a Library of Congress. Though initially rejecting Jefferson’s books, Congress had established a library, which was lost to the fire.
Through Jefferson’s letter that fall of 1814, Madison also experienced the unique fraternity found among presidents. Regardless of their differences, Madison, Jefferson, and Adams were members of the unofficial presidents’ club. Jefferson knew what Adams also knew, and now Madison. Leadership was a lonely place. Much is beyond a president’s control.
Jefferson put it this way in his letter, “For although every reasonable man must be sensible that all you can do is to order, that execution must depend on others, and failures be immutable to them alone, yet I know that when such failures happen, they afflict even those who have done everything they could to prevent them.”
Then he invoked the most comforting words he could have mustered. “Had General Washington himself been now at the head of our affairs the same event would probably have happen
ed.” With such a statement, Jefferson humanized George Washington and tried to make Madison feel better.
Then Jefferson offered Madison solace by referring to recent victories, such as Fort McHenry. “While our enemies cannot but feel shame for their barbarous achievements at Washington, they will be shamed to the soul by these repeated victories over them on that element on which they wish the world to think them invincible.”
Just as Jefferson gave Madison the gift of encouragement from someone who had walked in his buckled shoes, so he also gave him another gift, something more tangible and politically beneficial to keeping the capital in Washington, which may have been part of his motivation. “Learning by the papers the loss of the Library of Congress, I have sent my catalogue . . . to make their library committee the offer of my collection, now of about 9 or 10,000 volumes which may be delivered to them instantly, on a valuation by persons of their own naming, and be paid for in any way, and at any term they please.”
Because they were personal friends and neighbors whose estates were located fairly close to one another, Jefferson knew that Madison could vouch for his collection. “I believe you are acquainted with the condition of these books should they wish to be ascertained of this.”
Replacing the library was a gift to Congress and the public. “I have long been sensible that my library would be an interesting possession for the public, and the loss Congress has recently sustained, and the difficulty of replacing it, while our intercourse with Europe is so obstructed, renders this the proper moment for placing it at their service.”
The Burning of the White House Page 31
