James and Dolley Madison

by Bruce Chadwick

  Dolley went out of her way to remember the faces and names of all the people who visited the White House, whether they were foreign diplomats, politicians, merchants, artists, or friends. There is no evidence that she wrote down lists of names, sat people at particular tables, or spent hours trying to put names with faces. She just had a good memory and put it to use. Dolley also remembered where people were from and always tried to establish some connection with her life and theirs. She remembered people's favorite plays, concerts, and books; she knew the favorite taverns of people, knew where they liked to sit and stand at horse races, and often recalled the names of their children. The president was not good at this; she was.

  By the spring of 1812, Dolley had accrued, in twelve years in Washington, all the skills of a master politician. She had also picked up the greatest political skill there is—to make people believe you are not a politician at all.

  Some of the politicking that went on in Washington disgusted her, though. In the spring of 1812, Vice President Clinton became very sick. Politicians, sure he would die, began circling his office like vultures, trying to get Madison to give them the job. “The Vice President lies dangerously ill, and electioneering for this office goes on beyond description—the world seems to be running mad,” Dolley wrote.18

  As the war approached, and people's anger against England and France increased, Dolley attracted more enemies. Residents of New England, especially, who were so opposed to the war, targeted Dolley as well as her husband. She was too regal, too royal, too rich, too elegant. Her defenders said she had a wonderful personality? Her critics then brayed that she talked too much. She was criticized by women for her daring display of cleavage, which seemed to go lower and lower as the years went by, and for the emeralds on her turban (too European). She was seen by critics as Madison's protector and, behind closed doors, his political director.

  Dolley did not care.

  “She is the greatest blessing of my life,” the president wrote during those years.19

  More and more senators and congressmen began to feel that only a war could end Britain's harsh sea policy toward America. Senator Samuel Smith of Maryland denounced all critics of the embargo and all who did not think a war would be necessary. He scolded Massachusetts senator Thomas Pickering in a speech and then said, referring to President Madison, “Great God! Mr. President, can that man [Pickering] feel for American seamen who can say and write that the impressment of five thousand of our seamen by Great Britain is no cause for pretext only?”20

  The American political parties hurled insults at each other and tried, month after month, to show that the other was guilty not only of libel, slander, and bad form, but of treason, too. The Philadelphia Aurora, the Republican paper, wrote in 1809 about the recently repealed embargo that “we are informed by the debates in the English parliament, that their friends, the Federalists, in America assured them that their party would be brought into power at the next general election and that…if they held out a little longer, the embargo would be taken off.”21

  American newspapers had sneered at the British reasons for impressing seamen and searching ships for years. Three years before the war began, the Aurora editor wrote “whilst Great Britain is fighting for the liberties of the world by enslaving our seamen, and making it a forfeiture of ship and cargo (and worse than death)…” Other papers, such as the Baltimore American, advocated a lengthy campaign to seize British ships and their sailors when found in American waters.22

  Various congressmen had urged the raising of a new and much larger army to start a war against Great Britain. Some of the new army proposals were so comprehensive that they even included monthly pay schedules. Madison raised his eyebrows every time he read a story like that because he knew, they all knew, that the navy's gunboats were rotting, the army was quite small, and Congress had not appropriated funds to expand it. Hundreds of soldiers were also sick and not getting better. Fight a war? With what?23

  Many newspapers had eagerly reprinted copies of letters sent from James Monroe and William Pinkney to Madison in the winter of 1806 assuring him that they had a deal with England, but history soon showed that they did not. Madison now cringed at the publication of the letters.24

  One indirect consequence of the constant debates between citizens and legislators over the continuing crisis with England, in its third year when Madison took office, was that so much time was spent arguing about Great Britain and its sea policy that little time was left to discuss other foreign and all domestic matters. The government slowed down and then ground to a near halt by the end of 1809 as the British crisis mounted.

  That crisis had grown in intensity throughout 1810. At the end of that year, his fury growing, Madison blasted Britain in his Annual Message to Congress. He called for more funds for the army, more ships, and the revival of the Non-Intercourse Act against England, and he announced that America might soon occupy West Florida, a piece of land that it thought had come with the Louisiana Purchase but that Spain declared still belonged to her. The president also leaked secret letters from foreign ministers that insulted him and the American government. Madison was getting tough; the people liked that. Somebody, nobody knew who, continually planted stories in American newspapers about the enormous sums of money Napoleon was sending to Betsy Patterson Bonaparte, the wife of his brother. Why? Was Napoleon thinking of raising an heir in America? A prince? To take over America?25

  When 1811 dawned, Madison found himself in a political dilemma. Spain continued to insist that it owned West Florida, but thousands of Americans lived there. Madison consulted many cabinet members and congressmen and finally made up his mind on what to do—nothing. He would wait to see what happened, knowing, of course, that something would. By early 1811, disputes arose between Americans and Spaniards in that area, and local, irregular militia forces began to seize Spanish properties. Madison then declared that he had to move American troops into Florida in order to protect American national merchant interests and the lives of Americans living there. It was a clever use of executive power, power he could wield without approval from Congress and power he could wield in 1811 because of the politics of the era. He knew that and did so. West Florida soon seemed secure and Madison then announced that he might as well do the same thing with the rest of Florida, too. He said he might seize Spanish-held Cuba as well and told one of his ministers that these steps were necessary to prevent Great Britain from doing the same thing. He needed to protect American interests and, in so doing, was acting legitimately as the national leader. It was a huge stretch of presidential powers, but nobody objected.26

  In the fall of 1810, Madison received numerous signals from French and American ministers that Napoleon was agreeable to stopping French searches and seizures of American ships, but the agreement lay somewhere in the middle of many lengthy and convoluted documents. Madison ignored his ministers’ insistence that Napoleon was really doing nothing and made a public announcement that the two nations had an agreement and applauded Napoleon for his understanding. Then Madison swung around and invoked the Non-Intercourse Act (no trade with England), taking war with France out of the equation. He wrote Jefferson, “We hope from the step the advantage at least of having but one contest [England] on our hands at one time.”27

  The threat against just England in the fall of 1810 started a chain of political events that led House leader Henry Clay to say in the summer of 1811 that war with England was “inevitable.” Clay's views were important because he led what came to be known as the War Hawk Congress, a body full of members bent on war if Britain's shipping policy did not change. In addition to those members, there were many more who were simply tired of the country's vacillating position on war and wanted to “draw the sword,” as one member put it. They all recognized that in Clay, too, they had a powerful Speaker and somebody who did not take abuse from anyone. One of Clay's first orders when he took over leadership of the House was to tell John Randolph to take his dogs out of the house chamber a
nd never bring them back. Everyone applauded that order and a chastened Randolph kept his dogs at home.28

  Clay, and other War Hawks such as Calhoun, wanted a conflict and an end to America's six years of submitting to British bullying. Clay was such a forceful leader and adept politician that he managed to get lopsided votes, such as 117 to 11, for prowar bills submitted by Madison. Ironically, one very important bill, to increase the strength of the navy with construction of a dozen ships and building a stockpile of lumber in navy yards for further construction, was defeated by congressmen who were landlocked and congressmen who hated the New Englanders, who made huge profits off sea businesses that would be helped by a large navy. The defeat of the navy bill left President Madison with a tiny navy to go up against England's, the greatest navy in the world, with more than six times as many vessels as the United States in North American waters alone.

  Madison remained furious over Britain's sea policy for months and was certain that war lay ahead. He told William Reynolds of Rhode Island that “the violent and unprovoked conduct of the principal belligerents towards the United States justifies the feelings which it has excited in all good citizens. The readiness to maintain the honor and essential interests of the nation, of which you have communicated an example, is as seasonable as it is laudable.”29

  The president told Ambassador Pinkney, as he had told Jackson earlier, in heated language, what little faith he had in Britain. “It appears that the British govt. continues to be equally ignorant of our character and of what it owes to its own…. How can a nation expect to retain the respect of mankind whose govt. descends to so ignoble a career?”30

  State after state and politician after politician complained to Madison about British sea policy and demanded that something be done to stop them from continuing it. By 1811, the British had impressed or jailed nearly five thousand American sailors. An example of national outrage can be found in a lengthy letter sent to the president by the Vermont General Assembly at the end of 1809; in it, the assembly claimed that “our territorial jurisdiction has been violated, the hospitality of our ports and harbors abused, our citizens murdered whilst in the peaceable spirit of domestic concerns, our national flag insulted, the blood of our seamen wantonly shed and the perpetrators of these horrible acts have been protected.”31

  Criticism of Britain came from everywhere, even Monticello, where Jefferson fumed about the growing crisis. “The infatuation of the British government & nation is beyond everything imaginable. A thousand circumstances announced that they are on the point of being blown up & yet they still proceed with the same madness & increased wickedness,” he wrote Madison in early winter of 1809.32

  What to do now, though? William Duane, the editor of the Aurora in Philadelphia, was, like all Americans, frustrated and angry. “That course which is best adapted to the interests and policy of the United States, tho it cannot be very well mistaken by men of sober minds, is not so easily pursued directly as it would be were the attacks upon the nation open instead of insidious,” he lamented in a long letter to the president.33

  The crisis with England had built to a crescendo by the end of November 1809, when Madison sent his annual message to Congress. In it, he blasted the British. “In the state which has been presented of our affairs with the great parties to a disastrous and protracted war, carried on in a mode equally injurious and unjust to the U.S. as a neutral nation, the wisdom of the National Legislature, will be again summoned to the important decision on the alternatives before them. That these will be met in a spirit, worthy the councils of a nation, conscious both of its rectitude and of its rights and careful as well of its honor, as of its peace, I have an entire confidence,” he told Congress.34

  By then, the president realized that Americans were so interested in the conflict between England and France that they did not really understand that a war between America and England was possible. “Public attention would be more animated if the situation in which we are kept by the war…and incidents growing out of it among ourselves did not divert the public feelings and resources,” he told a diplomat.35

  Others felt differently. Henry Clay was certain, by 1812, that America had to declare war on England. He told a friend he expected hostilities to begin shortly “whether against one or both belligerents the only point on which I find any diversity of opinion.”36

  Everyone seemed to worry about Madison's resolve for no good reason. He had been a strident opponent of the sea policies of both England and France for years, had been tough with ambassadors, and had never backed down from his beliefs. He had even fired Robert Smith, his inefficient secretary of state, and replaced him with Monroe in 1811. He acted, and he acted quickly. The president was his own man, too. He wrote Jefferson constantly, seeking advice but often ignoring his counsel. The firing of Smith was a good example. Jefferson had lobbied for the return of Monroe to Washington for over a year but was surprised that Madison dismissed Smith to make Monroe secretary of state. He told Madison that Smith's friends in Washington would now conspire to give Madison trouble because of the secretary's ouster. Madison paid no attention to Jefferson's feelings.

  By the middle of June 1812, state legislatures, local politicians, and newspaper editors were certain that war would be declared. In Virginia, Thomas Jefferson wrote that “everybody in this quarter expects the declaration of war as soon as the season will permit the entrance of militia into Canada.” During the second week of June, the state legislature of Maryland went into special session and appointed a committee to study the quick raising of a state militia. Newspapers reported that “within a few days” the “final question” of war would be decided in Congress.1 All were nervous. Members of Congress remained at their posts, waiting for the war message, and would not leave the capital until they received it. “Congress will not adjourn…from the idea that it will make a bad impression,” wrote Mrs. Madison.2

  News came quickly.

  Congress received a very strong message from President Madison declaring war on Great Britain on June 1. “The conduct of their government presents a series of acts hostile to the U.S. as an independent and neutral nation,” he wrote, adding that “not content with these occasional expedients for laying waste our neutral trade, the cabinet of Great Britain resorted at length to the sweeping system of blockades, under the name of Order in Council, which has been molded and managed as might best suit its political views, its commercial jealousies or the avidity of British cruisers,” he said.3

  Several months later, in his first war message to Congress, Madison, in tough language, told the people not only that was war necessary but also that to avoid one at that point would be unthinkable and indefensible. America had been pushed too far. “To have shrunk from it…would have struck us from the high rank where the virtuous struggles of our fathers had placed us, and have betrayed the magnificent legacy which we hold in trust for future generations…would have acknowledged that the American people were not an independent people, but colonists and vassals.”4

  On June 4, the House of Representatives approved of the war, and the Senate followed on June 17. The House's Council on Foreign Relations issued a long, detailed report backing Madison on his war at the same time. Congress decreed that “the President of the United States is hereby authorized to use the whole land and naval force of the United States to carry the same into effect.”5

  Nobody realized more than President Madison that this war with England was an uphill conflict. The American army had but a few thousand men and very few of them had ever been in battle. There were few men left who had been officers in the American Revolution. Congress still insisted on its right to appoint generals, overriding the president, and would pick them based on politics and not on military experience. Congress, even after listening to Madison plead for more money for the army for years, had not appropriated anywhere near enough funding to fight a war. The navy was tiny compared to the vast British fleet. Even though Britain was heavily engaged in its war with Na
poleon, it would have no trouble dispatching tens of thousands of troops to fight against the United States. Even that auxiliary army was much larger, and far better trained, than American forces.

  Some of the War Hawks themselves, so eager for a battle with the British, shook their heads at the prospect of Madison becoming America's first-ever president to also serve as commander in chief. He lacked military experience and he had not shown the administrative experience necessary to lead a large army and fight a war against the globe's premier military power. John Calhoun wrote that “our President, although a man of amiable manners and great talents, has not I fear those commanding talents which are necessary to control those about him. He permits division in his cabinet…there is a great want of military knowledge and the whole of our system has to be commenced and organized.”6

  But Madison had enjoyed strong support for a war from a number of reputable sources, such as veterans of the American Revolution. One of them, John Keemle of Pennsylvania wrote him of soldiers who fought with Washington that “in ’76 they risked their lives & fortunes for the independence of their country & though now less able to do it, still you will perceive by the expression of their sentiments…that they are again determined to make any remaining sacrifices on the same later & many of them have sons who would glory in joining their fathers in the offering.” In the attached address, he said the men “will rally round the standard of the government as we did in the time that tried men's souls, determined to die as freemen, rather than live as slaves, under some imperious tyrant, whose will is law.”7

  The veterans of the revolution told Madison that they hated the British as much now as they had during the armed conflict of the 1770s. Former soldier John Stark wrote him that “I found them treacherous and ungenerous as friends and dishonorable as enemies.”8