by Chris DeRose
With the major questions decided and the fine print completed, Congress issued the Articles of Confederation to the state legislatures. The letter sent along with the plan reads more like an apology than anything else. The Articles were “the best which could be adapted to the circumstances of all.”37 In desperation and out of necessity, the states were slipping on a straitjacket that would nearly suffocate the new government. The Articles of Confederation were utterly unequal to the task of peace, and similarly unequal to the task of war. As one member pointed out, “a time of peace and tranquility” was the only “proper time for agitating so important a concern.”38 Peace and tranquility, however, were nowhere to be found.
As the Articles were presented to the states, Madison and Monroe both saw their fortunes improve. Monroe was promoted to major in November of 1777. And in the same month, Madison—his intellect and hard work recognized by his peers—was chosen to fill a vacancy on the Council of State. This body served as an advisory board for the governor and shared his executive authority. On the first ballot “James Madison, the younger, of Orange,” received thirty votes to the twenty-one for his next closest competitor. On the second ballot he received sixty-one votes and achieved the needed majority.
Madison arrived in Williamsburg on January 14 to join the Council of State; Governor Patrick Henry administered the oath of office.39 The wartime governor and Council, overwhelmed with work, wasted little time on formalities. Madison was immediately charged with responding to a letter from the Continental Congress. The suffering at Valley Forge was beyond imagination. Without an immediate infusion of supplies, the troops would “starve, dissolve, or disperse.”
The Council agreed that the governor should appoint someone to purchase “pork, beef, and bacon” in northwestern Virginia and to obtain wagons to deliver these and other necessities, such as salt, to Washington’s headquarters.40 Though removed from the fighting, Madison was worried about his brother Ambrose, who was in the thick of the war, and about his many other friends whose lives depended on the honest and faithful service of public servants, including himself.
In Williamsburg, Madison lodged with his cousin, the Reverend James Madison, who had been appointed president of the College of William and Mary just a few months earlier. The Reverend Madison, only two years older than his cousin, was a well-educated and experienced college instructor who had been put in charge of the college when his predecessor was removed for loyalist sympathies.41 The cousins lived together in the President’s House, a Georgian red-brick mansion built in 1733. It has been the home of every William and Mary president except one.42
Monroe’s quarters at the end of 1777 contrasted starkly with Madison’s. Washington chose winter headquarters for his army in the most defensible position close to the enemy in Philadelphia. Valley Forge has been “a name associated with suffering since the winter of 1777–1778.”43 The terrible conditions there perhaps contributed to Monroe’s disillusionment. “The principles on which the war is carried on now [are] entirely different from what it was at first,” he wrote. “Patriotism, public spirit, and disinterestedness have almost vanished, and honor and virtue are empty names.”44
Washington and his army of eleven thousand had arrived at Valley Forge on December 21, 1777. The nearest drinkable water was a mile away, and there were no accommodations. Shelter had to be built from scratch.45 After miles of marching in polar temperatures, wearied from months of combat, and with stomachs that were completely empty, the fatigued soldiers at Valley Forge set about building a place to live. Without nails, wooden planks had to be notched to build their fourteen-by-sixteen-foot huts, where the soldiers would live in groups of twelve. Construction would not be completed until January 13.
On February 6, 1778, the Treaty of Alliance brought the French formally into the war. When the Americans at Valley Forge learned the news three months later, Washington proclaimed a day of jubilee for the entire army. There were military exercises, eating, drinking, and dancing to a band. As the worst winter of the soldiers’ lives came to an end, there was hope that the worst of the war was behind them as well.
Monroe the warrior passed much of the time at Valley Forge reading books of poetry, which he eagerly shared with his friends. “’Tis the summit of fortitude and heroism to prevail over the views of this transitory life,” he wrote, “and turn the mind on the more lasting happiness of that to come.... But while life remains, it is necessary you should have something more than mere repentance to amuse your thoughts on.”46
Meanwhile, back in Virginia, Madison stayed busy on the Council, managing the state’s wartime affairs. Gunboats were purchased, repairs to barracks were ordered,47 and rum, wine, and sugar were sent to the army.48 Rifles were sent to the Monongalia County Militia to fend off Indian attacks, and a prisoner of war camp was established in Charlottesville. The pardon power, which the Council exercised jointly with the governor, was used to grant a reprieve to two criminals previously set to be executed.49 Correspondence went back and forth between the Council and House of Delegates in Virginia and the Virginia delegates in Congress, coordinating their efforts as best they could.
A bounty of five hundred dollars was placed on the head of Josiah Phillips, a laborer in Princess Anne County who had taken advantage of the war to lead an insurgency, stealing, pillaging, and committing murder against his countrymen. A bill of attainder (essentially a criminal conviction handed down by a legislature) was successfully sponsored by Jefferson, then serving in the House of Delegates; Phillips was ordered killed should he fail to surrender.50
On June 1, Thomas Jefferson was elected the second governor of the state of Virginia, commencing his first professional collaboration with Madison.51 Friendship with Jefferson would be important in the lives of both Madison and Monroe; eventually the author of the Declaration of Independence would be instrumental in bringing these two close friends of his own together. But Madison may not have made the best impression on Jefferson at this time.
Madison’s hat, which the style of the era required for public appearances, had recently been stolen; and like almost everything else during the war, hats were in short supply. The hatless Madison stayed in his room at the President’s House for two days before finally paying a tailor an exorbitant sum for a hat because Williamsburg had no haberdasher. The hat was enormously large for him, and the 5’4” Madison attended the Council of State looking like a little boy playing dress-up, much to the merriment of his colleagues.52
In the summer of 1778, the king’s peace commission, led by Lord Carlisle, arrived to offer terms to Congress. After the embarrassment of Saratoga, the trials of the Philadelphia campaign, and their plans to evacuate that city, the British decided to press now for the best terms they thought they could get. They offered the repeal of all the offensive acts that had followed the French and Indian War—in exchange for which America would make peace and remain under British dominion. But despite the war (the hardships, the inconveniences, the violence and life-threatening deprivation) Congress would insist on nothing less than independence. Carlisle and the rest of the delegation returned to London, but two important events resulted from their visit.
The arrival of the peace commission caused Howe’s resignation and replacement by Sir Henry Clinton. The peace commission told Clinton that a settlement would be impossible. He was authorized to fight the most brutal war he could to force American submission.
Clinton was willing. He was ready to fight a different kind of war. He began by preparing to leave Philadelphia. What was the point in holding the capital if the Congress kept moving? As Clinton prepared to leave the city, Washington and his generals planned their attack. General Charles Lee was put in charge of the assault, which would be carried out as the British were leaving the area near Monmouth Courthouse.
The fighting that followed was not only a missed opportunity for the Americans, but a near total calamity. Lee would end up court martialed for his lack of any apparent plan and failure to give orders. After an initia
l engagement through the pine trees of Monmouth, the Americans retreated. The American pursuers became the pursued as the British under Cornwallis turned and counterattacked.
Lord Stirling and James Monroe, temporarily serving as Stirling’s adjutant general, were positioned on the left side of the American line and received the first blow of the counterattack. Stirling kept his men together and repulsed the British.
Monroe led a scouting party as close to the enemy lines as he could get. Around four in the afternoon he issued a critical dispatch to Washington. The British were regrouping and preparing to hit the Americans on the right, where Washington himself was positioned. Thanks to Monroe’s timely warning, Washington was prepared and repelled the offensive.53 And although he didn’t know it yet, Monroe had just taken part in the last major combat he would see in the war he had joined in college.
When not thinking of war, Monroe had begun to spend more time thinking of women. Theodosia Prevost, whose husband had abandoned her to support the British, lived close to Philadelphia at the Hermitage, which had become a popular gathering place for American soldiers. James Monroe became one of her friends. In November, he wrote to her seeking guidance in pursuing a woman who had caught his attention. (In light of Mrs. Prevost’s later marriage to Aaron Burr, her judgment in this arena is open to question.)
Monroe wrote, “A young lady who either is or pretends to be in love is, you know my dear Mrs. Prevost, the most unreasonable creature in existence.” He complained of the numerous ways he might inadvertently give offense and took note of how easy it was for women to lose interest. Monroe asked Prevost to talk him up to the object of his affection on her upcoming trip to the Hermitage.54
In November of 1778, Governor Jefferson and the Virginia Council of State, including Madison, turned their attention from resupplying distant forces to preparing for invasion. The British had taken significant parts of Georgia, beginning the Southern Campaign that would define the remainder of the war. To that end, governor and Council agreed on an embargo against exporting meats. The food would be needed at home.55
Monroe, again serving as aide-de-camp to Stirling, never lost his desire for a battlefield command. On December 20 he tendered his resignation from the army effective January 12, 1779. He would return to Virginia in the hopes of obtaining a military command there. At Philadelphia Monroe obtained letters of recommendation from Stirling and Washington to present to the Virginia legislature in furtherance of his military career back home.56 In August he was commissioned a lieutenant colonel of the State Line stationed in Williamsburg. But he was still without men, and neither Virginia nor Monroe himself had the resources to acquire them.
“I . . . desire as I began almost with the war, to serve to the end of it,” he wrote. “They ordered me down in apprehension of an invasion which I believe will not happen.” While Monroe waited, he enjoyed his private lodgings, spent time with the family of Colonel Dudley Digges, and enjoyed socializing with the women in town. Reading in the college library “forms the principal part of my amusement,” he said.57
The restless Monroe began to feel that he was going nowhere fast. But he soon formed a connection that would change his life in ways he never imagined. As Madison had done beginning almost two years before, Monroe became close to Thomas Jefferson. Governor Jefferson, seeing promise in the young man, offered him a pupilage to study law. In this endeavor Monroe was joined by John Mercer, a William and Mary classmate who had been with him for much of the war. Mercer, like Monroe, had been promoted into the surplus of officers without men to command. Since Jefferson was not an active lawyer, his students were spared the drudgery of clerical work. Instead they served as his political aides and read thick treatises on law and the works of philosophers from antiquity to modernity.
Meanwhile, Madison had once again impressed his fellow public servants. On December 14, 1779, the Virginia legislature voted jointly to select their representatives to the Continental Congress. Madison and Joseph Jones, Monroe’s uncle, were elected to fill vacancies in the state’s delegation.
The twenty-eight-year-old sent his eager acceptance to Benjamin Harrison, Speaker of the Virginia House and the ancestor of two future U.S. presidents. Madison assured the Speaker that “as fidelity and zeal can supply the place of abilities the interests of my country shall be punctually promoted.”58 At a critical hour in the war for independence, Madison would assume his first role on the national stage.
Chapter Three
THE WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN
“If these severe doses of ill fortune do not cool the frenzy and relax the pride of Britain, it would seem as if heaven had in reality abandoned her to her folly and her fate.”
—JAMES MADISON
On his first trip to the North since leaving Princeton, Madison spent twelve days traversing bad roads under heavy rain.1 He would shortly be making his debut in national politics, representing Virginia in the Continental Congress.
After arriving in Philadelphia on March 18, 1780, Madison found quarters at the home of Eliza Trist at the corner of Fifth and Market Streets.2 Eliza ran a warm and convivial boarding house popular with many members of Congress. The Trists would become like a family to Madison. As his work continued to take him to Philadelphia, he never stayed anywhere else.
In preparation to represent Virginia in Congress, Madison had done his homework, undertaking a serious study of the nation’s finances. The results were appalling. Congress had solved the problem of having no money by printing millions of dollars of worthless paper. Congress’s credit was exhausted. Any future issue of currency would now have to be backed by the states.3
Upon arrival in Philadelphia, Madison wrote to Jefferson, offering a synopsis of his findings: “Our army threatened with an immediate alternative of disbanding or living on free quarter; the public treasury empty; public credit exhausted,” as well as the private credit of patriotic purchasing agents; “Congress complaining of the extortion of the people; the people of the improvidence of Congress, and the army of both.”
Madison thought that Congress was lacking in statesmen. Members voted for requisitions they knew their home states would never pay. The army was out of bread and would soon be out of meat, “without a shilling for the purpose, and without credit for a shilling.” The only hope was for states to acquire the worthless paper money and reissue a new currency backed by their own resources. Or else, in Madison’s estimation, “we are undone.”4
As Madison struggled to cope with Congress’s ruinous finances, the state government he had left behind in Virginia was preparing for a move. Williamsburg’s proximity to the sea left it hopelessly vulnerable to the attack that would be coming at any minute. So Governor Jefferson and the rest of the Virginia government were moving inland to Richmond, the new capital.
And James Monroe was considering moving to Richmond at Governor Jefferson’s personal invitation to complete his legal studies there. Joseph Jones strongly urged his nephew to do just that. Jefferson, Jones told Monroe, was “as proper a man as can be put into the office having the requisites of ability, firmness, and diligence. You would do well to cultivate his friendship.” Jones also cautioned his protégé to get ready. The war was moving south.5
The practice of law was a dream that Monroe’s father and uncle had shared for him, but it was a career in which Monroe himself had little interest. And not every adult advisor in his life agreed with his uncle’s safe, practical advice. Charles Lee, the general at Monmouth, to whom Monroe had grown close during his service in the army, was entirely in sympathy with Monroe’s preference for a career in public service: “There are few young men for whom I have a higher esteem and affection. I am extremely concerned that fortune has been so unkind as not to admit of your cultivating the talents which nature has bestowed on you to a greater advantage than your present situation seems to promise.” Lee thought the law “a most horrid narrower of the mind.”6
But Jones and practicality won out, for the present. Monroe ha
d no hope of an immediate battlefield command. But if Virginia could raise a new regiment, proximity to Jefferson might be critical in securing one. Monroe, always in search of a mentor, had found in Jefferson someone worthy of his admiration. And what better place for an aspiring politician than the new seat of government? It was settled. Monroe was headed to Richmond.
Meanwhile, as a newly minted congressman in Philadelphia, Madison was elected by his colleagues to the Board of Admiralty, the committee charged with overseeing American naval efforts .7 The Board’s official actions reflected the impotence of the federal government. Having neither the money to buy goods nor boats to transport them, the Board denied navy Captain Abraham Whipple’s three-month-old request for bread and flour. They did, however, commend his service and encourage him to keep up the good work.8 The Board then recommended that Congress order the Continental agent in Boston to sell as much sugar and rum as he possessed to pay to finish building ships sitting unfinished in Portsmouth and Connecticut. (Congress ignored the report, and the ships were not finished until 1782 and 1783, respectively.)9 Meanwhile, the eighteen-gun Saratoga sat idle for want of final riggings, and the frigate Trumbull, completely finished and with 120 men aboard, needed only additional food and cannon before it could be employed in the fight against the British.10
In a Christmas raid, a group of common criminals broke into a warehouse and stole all but three bolts of the national supply of canvas. The Board had previously directed that the canvas be sent where it was needed, but these orders had not been obeyed. The warehouse workers, for their part, apologized to the Board but proudly reported that they had found and killed two of the three thieves and had an excellent chance of finding the third.11 The Board responded that, while this was nice, all they really wanted was their canvas back.
