Washington, D.C.

December 1809

CHAPTER VI

* * *

Matthew reached to grasp the thin, small hand of President James Madison while his mind recoiled from the shock of the appearance of the little man.

Haggard—white—eyes haunted—something’s gone wrong—he’s in trouble—England?—France?—war?

Madison shook Matthew’s hand warmly, but his smile was wooden and his voice lacked vitality. “Welcome, Mister Dunson, welcome to my new home. Such as it is.”

The Executive Mansion was less than half finished. Of the more than thirty rooms, less than half had been plastered, and of those, only a few were painted. Piles of stones for fireplaces were heaped about at random, and discarded bits and pieces of boards mingled with chunks of dried plaster and sawdust were swept into corners. The hardwood floors showed a thin spread of dust. Outside, in the clearing surrounding the huge, square structure, great piles of accumulated construction trash were scattered wherever the workmen had found it convenient.

“Won’t you please come in,” Madison continued, and stepped back to allow Matthew and John to enter. The room was large, square, plastered, and painted, and the fireplace that dominated one wall was finished nearly to the ceiling. There was nothing—no paintings, no murals, no draperies—to break the stark, white plainness of the room. Temporary bookshelves lined one wall, with books carefully arranged. A large leather upholstered chair stood behind a massive oak desk, with four matching upholstered chairs facing it. On the desk were papers and files, neatly stacked. Directly in the center were two huge ledgers with a bound document three inches thick. Both John and Matthew recognized them instantly as the ledgers John had brought back from Eastport and the report he had written.

Madison gestured. “I take it this is your son John?”

There was a light in Matthew’s eyes. “It is. John, it is my honor to present you to President James Madison.”

John bowed slightly and thrust out his hand. “I am honored, sir. You are a legend in our household.”

There was genuine pleasure in Madison’s face as he seized the hand and shook it warmly. “Being a legend is wonderful, but it begs the question, a legend for what? I have lately worried that my so-called legend is for bumbling and mismanagement. I can only hope you see it otherwise.”

“I do, sir.”

“I take it you have a son named James?”

“I do, sir.”

“Is it possible I have the honor of his being named after myself?”

“You do.”

“When I get to Boston next, I trust you will allow me the blessed privilege of meeting the little fellow.”

“It will be my pleasure.”

Madison gestured. “Let us be seated.”

Facing Matthew and John across the desk, Madison gave no time for pleasantries or inquiries about his wife, Dolley, or conditions in the chaotic sprawl that was called Washington, D.C., or his election to the presidency of the United States, or the events of his inauguration. He tapped the file resting on the two great, battered, worn ledgers and spoke to John.

“I doubt you know what you did for me—and your country—by bringing these ledgers and making this report. I knew generally what was happening in the north, but I had no concept of the . . . massive . . . extent of it, or who was involved. I was appalled—frankly, stunned—with what those ledgers contain. Extending my thanks is far too little to make you understand what you have done. The United States stands in your debt, sir.”

John nodded but remained silent, and Madison went on.

“I requested you be here with your father because you are the one who must answer a critical question. Should it become necessary, would you be willing to appear before the United States Congress to testify as to where you obtained these documents?”

John stiffened, caught by surprise, mind frozen for a moment. “Yes, sir. I would be willing to do that.”

Madison raised a finger in warning. “Appearing before Congress is a very unique experience. Some senators on the committee will attempt to discredit you, and the rules of such inquiries do not provide much protection for the witness. It is not like a courtroom where objections can be made and a judge can maintain some semblance of order and fair play. Are you ready for that?”

“I’ll answer their questions. Their conduct is up to them.”

“Well said.” Madison turned to Matthew.

“I need help, and I need it from other than these . . . politicians . . . who have difficulty rising above their paralyzing compulsion for power and position. I do not wish to get into the endless clash between the Republicans and the Federalists on just about everything. Most of it is rhetoric for public consumption, not a plan to resolve the problems of this country. Am I clear on why I invited you here?”

Matthew shifted in his chair, eyes locked with Madison’s. “You are.”

Madison drew and exhaled a great breath and paused for a moment to arrange his thoughts with the simple logic of the genius that had elevated him to the Executive Mansion.

“Let’s start at the beginning. The Rule of ’56.”

Matthew’s eyes narrowed for a moment, recalling the British policy regarding commercial shipping on the high seas. The British had declared it in 1756, the year after they entered the Seven Years’ War with France for possession of the thirteen American colonies. With it they meant to cripple French shipping and wreak havoc with the French treasury.

Madison spoke rapidly. “The rule declared that trade closed to a neutral sovereign during times of peace could not be reopened in a time of war. The British meant it to stop American ships from carrying cargoes from France to her colonies in the West Indies at times when French ships could not do it.”

Madison paused for a moment. “The policy was pretty much a failure because shipping companies found too many ways to avoid it, and for a time the British weren’t diligent in enforcing it.”

Matthew nodded understanding, and Madison went on.

“Then Napoleon Bonaparte rose to threaten the entire political and economic structure of Europe. That man intended becoming Emperor of the world! He established what is now called his Continental System, which was his plan to bring England to her knees by destroying her economically. The first step was Napoleon’s Berlin Decree of 1806. It was a blockade of the British Isles altogether! Simply close down all shipping to and from the British Isles! It banished all ships that had touched a British harbor from entering a French harbor, and anything made in the British Isles was subject to seizure, no matter where it was found, even in ships of neutral nations. That included the United States!”

Madison’s face was showing color as he continued.

“As you no doubt know, in 1807, the British retaliated with several of their infamous ‘Orders in Council.’ Collectively, those Orders declared a blockade of all ports that were closed to British trade, and required any neutral country that wished to trade in such ports to first stop in England and pay transit duties. Transit duties? Tribute! If American ships wanted to trade with France, they had to pay tribute to England for the privilege! Outrageous!”

For a moment Madison paused to collect his thoughts.

“Bonaparte retaliated. His ‘Milan Decree.’ Any neutral vessel submitting to the British Orders in Council was subject to seizure by any French vessel, wherever found. If American ships complied with the British Orders, they could be seized by the French. It left no choice for American ships. To obey the policy of either country laid them open to seizure by the other.”

Madison stopped. For a moment he stared at his hands on the desk before him, and then leaned forward, eyes alive.

“Both of them—England and France—confessed that their decrees and orders were illegal—violated established maritime law—but each insisted they were only protecting their own interests from the ravages of the other. Both of them have attempted to minimize the devastation they’re bringing down on the rest of the world with small concessions, but it isn’t working.”

He settled back in his chair. “We tried to strike back. Congress passed the Non-Importation Act of 1806, which wasn’t enforced until 1807, and it was followed by the Non-Exportation Embargo that prevented all American cargoes bound for foreign trade from leaving American ports. It was a desperate measure, but President Jefferson signed it. We soon learned that it was being ignored. We passed the Enforcement Act of 1809 to enforce it, and gave unheard-of powers to our customs officials, including the use of the army and navy to enforce it, if necessary.”

He paused to shake his head. “Imagine. Using our own military to enforce our own embargo against our own commercial trade.”

He stopped to open a file and point to the top paper.

“Do you know what all these orders and embargoes have done to the United States? In 1807, two years ago, our exports were valued at one-hundred-eight million dollars. Last year, 1808, our exports were valued at twenty-two million dollars. It has cost us eighty-six million dollars in exports in one year! One year!”

He paused for only a moment and then went on. “In the midst of all this, do you know how many American ships have been seized by the two of them? Over seven hundred, as of now, with no end of it in sight!”

John sat bolt upright in his chair, shocked, wide-eyed. Matthew turned to look at him but remained silent. Madison peered at him, nodded his head slowly, then went on.

“This year we repealed both the Non-Importation Act and the embargo, and passed a non-trade act against both Britain and France. American ships can deal with all foreign ports except the ones belonging to those two countries. It has been of some small help but has fallen woefully short of being any real solution.”

He cleared his throat, reflected for a moment, then continued.

“Rumors and wild stories began coming in that vessels of all flags were operating in the north, with smuggling and black-market trade reaching astronomical proportions. I asked for and received reports from various governmental sources. The reports came in, some from Republicans, some from Federalists, and badly inconsistent. Useless. I had to know first-hand from someone involved in maritime shipping—someone without a political agenda—what the truth is.”

He reached to place a hand on John’s report. “That’s when I turned to you, and you turned to your son.” He faced John. “Perhaps now you can begin to understand the value of these ledgers and your report. From them we know that all the embargoes and the orders issued to keep the seas open for free trade have done little more than make thousands of criminals.”

He turned back to Matthew. “You know that during Jefferson’s presidency, the war hawks in Congress raised a great hue and cry for war against England or France or both, as the means to restore our foreign trade. Jefferson refused, and we suffered. We are still suffering. When I assumed the presidency earlier this year, I likewise determined to find a resolution to this . . . disaster . . . on the seas, without war. I abhor the thought. Surely there has to be a way to restore common sense and civility to international trade without the evils of shedding blood in an all-out war.”

Again Madison paused to clear his throat and wipe at his mouth with a handkerchief. “You have an advantage over me, Matthew. You have experienced war—seen what it does to men—the shedding of blood, the scarring of their lives. I have not. I have never borne arms against an enemy, never taken life, never seen men destroyed by musket or cannon.”

Madison paused again, and Matthew shifted his weight in his chair with his mind moving ahead. We’re there—here it comes.

Madison interlaced his fingers and leaned forward, forearms on his desk, eyes boring in. His words came spaced, quiet.

“Tell me. Were Jefferson and I wrong? Have we reached such a pass that war is necessary to preserve the Republic? Is it worth declaring war to restore sanity to our international trade?”

For a time the only sound in the room was the ticking of a carved clock on the mantel of the half-finished fireplace. Matthew’s voice sounded oddly loud as it broke the silence.

“I think you’re asking the wrong question.”

Madison’s eyebrows arched. “Explain.”

“I think the right question is, can the Republic be saved and free trade be restored without war.”

Madison’s eyes half closed for a few seconds while he pondered the thought. “You think it is that simple? We live with what we have, or we go to war to change it?”

Matthew did not hesitate. “Yes. That simple.”

“And what is your answer to that question?”

“No. I do not think free trade can be restored without war.”

“You propose the United States declare war on England? Or France? Or both?”

“No, not yet. I think the United States has an obligation to two duties before it considers war.”

Madison sat silent, waiting, and Matthew went on.

“First, do everything possible to settle our differences with the foreign powers. Exhaust every possibility. Pass whatever laws Congress thinks will restore free trade without bloodshed, and make it known to the world that you have done it. I think we’re deep into a test of our morality. Our first test. The survival of the Constitution rests on the issue of whether we are a decent, moral people. We have a duty.”

Madison’s voice was scarcely above a whisper. “Go on.”

“Second, prepare. If it must be war, we’ve got to prepare to protect our people in all circumstances. We have the duty to spare as many as we can, and that is best done by being prepared.”

John sat mesmerized, speechless at what he was hearing between his president and his father.

Madison asked, “Do you think we can succeed by negotiating?”

Matthew shook his head. “I doubt it.” He paused and for a time stared at the floor, then raised his head. “I know the evils of war. Men killed, maimed, crippled, blinded, lives shattered. Memories in their hearts and their minds that sicken them for the rest of their lives. Mothers, wives, children left alone. I detest it. It is an evil thing.” He paused for a few moments to select his words. “But, finally, if evil is to be defeated, war will be necessary. I think we must be certain it is the last resort, and we must prepare.”

Madison stared at his hands for a moment before asking, “In your opinion, why have negotiations failed so badly?”

“Because both England and France see us as more of a nuisance than a sovereign nation. Napoleon intends conquering England. England means to stop him. We’re three thousand miles away and are going through the throes of learning to take our place among nations. They’re never going to give us respect just because we’re here. We’re going to have to get it the same way they did. Stand up for ourselves. It usually takes a bloody nose to get respect from a bully.”

Madison nodded. “What of the Chesapeake affair? I’ve demanded satisfaction, and they are paying no attention. Do I drop it?”

“No. They were wrong in that matter, and a dozen others. I would not yield on matters where they’re wrong and we are right.”

“That was my conclusion.” Madison took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, thoughtfully, before going on. “We spoke once before about Canada. In my view, taking Canada would accomplish two things. It would cut off an indispensable source of lumber and other commodities that England must have, and it would bring the British to the bargaining table to get Canada back. My question of you is, am I right?”

For several seconds Matthew closed his eyes in deep concentration before he spoke. “I doubt it. Our army is unprepared for a major engagement. And we don’t know what to expect from the Indians. Worse, I doubt that taking Canada would stop the shipping trade from there to England. I think the smuggling would continue. It’s too profitable, and there are too many people up there on both sides who have higher regard for wealth than anything else. I don’t think taking Canada would stop what’s going on.”

“You think it would be a mistake, then?”

“I do.”

“You mentioned the Indians. What of them? Should we consider them an enemy and engage them in war?”

“I would not. The Indians are only interested in getting back the land we have taken from them. They will side with the British so long as they believe the British can help them do it, and the British are using that as leverage to raise the Indians against us. The British have no intention of giving them the land. They will use the Indians against us, and if they win, that will be the end of it.”

A puzzled look crossed Madison’s small, heart-shaped face. “Are the Indians so blind they can’t see that?”

Matthew answered slowly. “In times like these most of us get lost in anger over the injustices and insanity of lust for power and treasure. We lose sight of the violations of the fundamentals that caused it all. England and France each want to rule the world. Americans want lands rightfully belonging to the Indians. It’s all wrong, but we all find justification for it, and the result is conflict. War. I don’t think we can expect it to stop. We can only try to rectify our mistakes and move on. Maybe that’s what America is all about. Maybe that’s what the Constitution you created intended. Am I right?”

For a time Madison sat silent, without moving. “Before the Almighty, I hope you are. I hope you are.”

John was frozen, his mind reeling with the depths into which it had been plunged. He glanced at his father, seeing a man he never knew existed.

Madison eased back in his chair. “Is there anything else you think I should hear? Anything at all?”

Matthew nodded his head. “Only one thing, Mister President. I would ask you to be certain there is no other option before you declare war. Some of us have much to lose.”

Madison turned to look at John. The three of them remained silent, but none of them missed the portent in Matthew’s request.

Madison looked back at Matthew. “You have my solemn promise.” He rose. “I think I’ve covered the matters I intended. As always, I stand in your debt. We will talk again, I’m sure.”

He walked around his desk and grasped John’s hand, then Matthew’s. “You will give my best regards to your wives and families? I think of you people often.”

“We shall. Carry our regards to your wife.”

Madison smiled and started for the door with Matthew and John following. “I shall. She is just becoming acquainted with Washington society. Seems to enjoy it, but she seems to enjoy society wherever she is.”

There was genuine warmth and sincerity in his voice and a sense of relief as he reached for the large brass door handle.

“Have a safe journey home.”

Notes

In the time period framed in this chapter, there were a great number of policies, embargoes, Orders in Council, and decrees issued by France, England, the United States, Russia, and other sovereigns, many of them illegal, most of them aimed at establishing superiority in the commercial trade at sea at the expense of all other nations. It would not be possible to list all of them in this chapter, or even in the remainder of this book. For that reason, only those most critical to an understanding of the commercial war then existing on the high seas have been referred to. The impact of this horrendous conflict resulted in the loss of eighty-six million American dollars in export trade from 1807 to 1808. For an explanation of these decrees and embargoes, as they are set forth in this chapter, see Hickey, The War of 1812, pp. 10, 18–21, with the loss figures to America’s export trade appearing on p. 21; Stagg, Mister Madison’s War, pp. 22, 28–29; Wills, James Madison, pp. 80–88; Roosevelt, The Naval War of 1812, p. 5.

James Madison was inaugurated president in March, 1809, Wills, James Madison, p. 80.