Founding Rivals

by Chris DeRose

  The Board was financially strapped, and in order to raise desperately needed funds they finally convinced Congress to order a Boston-based ship filled with sugar and rum to Philadelphia, where the goods could be sold at considerably higher prices. The trip put the ship and its cargo at significant risk of capture—a necessary risk, given the sorry state of the Board’s financial affairs.12 With no apparent irony, the Board designed a seal for the Admiralty with a Latin motto which translated means “Upholding and Upheld.”13

  On June 21, 1780, the Virginia legislature appointed Madison to a full term in Congress, meaning he would get to continue this kind of work for at least another year. The Virginia legislature wrote to its delegates in Congress to inquire where the state’s requisition had gone, and Jefferson wrote a personal letter to Madison trying to clear up confusion about where three thousand new draftees from Virginia were to be sent.

  Monroe would soon be receiving a more exciting assignment. Governor Jefferson and the Council of State wrote him stating their need “to employ a gentleman in a confidential business, requiring great discretion, and some acquaintance with military things. . . . It will call you off some weeks, to the distance of a couple hundred miles. . . . Will you be so good as to attend us immediately for further communications?”14

  Six days later, Monroe received his mission.

  The British invasion of the South had overwhelmed any resistance, and the city of Charleston, South Carolina, had fallen. Governor Jefferson anticipated that Virginia would be the next target. Jefferson assigned riders to Monroe, who would proceed to the front lines of the war in the Carolinas. Every forty miles Monroe was to station couriers who, riding by night, would convey information back to Virginia. Jefferson wanted to know of any troop movements as well as “the state and resources of our friends, their force, the disposition of the people, the prospect of provisions, ammunition, arms, and other circumstances, the force and condition of the enemy. . . . ” Lines of communication were to be established with the governors of the Carolinas and the commander of the American forces. Jefferson was clearly on edge; he asked Monroe to send a message every fortnight whether or not there was any news.15

  Monroe arrived in North Carolina on June 22 and met with Governor Abner Nash and General Richard Caswell. He wrote to Jefferson that six thousand men had embarked for Charleston under British General Sir Henry Clinton, leaving four thousand cavalry and six hundred infantry under Colonel Tarleton and Lord Cornwallis in North Carolina. Clinton had announced an amnesty for anyone who swore allegiance to the crown, but sentenced to death those who wouldn’t. The rules of war respecting prisoners and civilians would not be honored in the Southern campaign.16

  When Monroe’s intelligence-gathering mission ended, he was not content to let it be the last of his military service. He continued to try to find a place for himself at the front so long as there was a war to be won. Even his former position as an aide-de-camp started to look better than missing further action altogether. Monroe wrote Lafayette inquiring whether he needed an aide, and if not, whether he would recommend Monroe to General Benjamin Lincoln.17 But Monroe’s heroic efforts to get back into the war were frustrated at every turn.

  He had also tried unsuccessfully to sell some of his land to finance a trip to Europe, where he was considering finishing his studies. Despite these setbacks, Monroe was coming into his own and feeling good about the future. When he had last failed to gain a command—in the time between his recovery from Trenton and his rejoining the army before Brandywine—Monroe had contemplated retiring to private life. This time he was determined on public service, in politics if not in the army. Monroe stayed the course, he said, largely because of Jefferson’s influence: “Your kindness and attention to me in this and a variety of other instances has really put me under such obligations to you that I fear I shall hardly ever have it in my power to repay them. But believe me in whatever situation of life the chance of fortune may place me, no circumstance can happen which will give me such pleasure or make me so happy . . . whatever I am at present in the opinion of others or whatever I may be in the future has greatly [arisen] from your friendship. My plan of life is now fixed, has a certain object for its view.”18

  While the main front of the war had moved south, Philadelphia was still subject to shocks and alarms. In September of 1780 an epidemic terrorized Congress and the people of the city. “The Flux” had a mortality rate that “exceed[ed] anything ever remembered,” and took the wife of Joseph Reid, president of Congress.19 The government was further shaken by the defection of General Benedict Arnold to the British. An effigy of Arnold was paraded through Philadelphia holding a mask while a man dressed as the devil followed shaking a purse of coins. Ultimately, the mock Arnold was burnt to the delight of all. “Thus with one act faded the laurels of a hero,” observed Madison of Arnold’s treachery, “and the appellations of Arnold must be everlastingly changed for a representative of the blackest infamy.”20

  During this period Madison for the first time took on an issue that would consume his career for a decade and constantly threaten to break apart the nation. He was chosen as chairman of a committee to elaborate on previous instructions given to John Jay, the Ambassador to Spain. That country had joined the war against Great Britain as an ally of France. Congress hoped to create a direct alliance with Spain, to prevent Spain from making a separate peace with England, and perhaps to obtain a loan from the Spanish government. The difficulty was that Spain possessed New Orleans and wanted exclusive control of the Mississippi River.

  The report of Madison’s committee, written in his hand, asserted the claim of the United States to that river, citing the 1763 Treaty of Paris, Article VII, which had ended the French and Indian War: “That part of the world, shall be fixed irrevocably by a line drawn along the middle of the River Mississippi . . . provided that the navigation of the river Mississippi shall be equally free, as well to the subjects of Great Britain and those of France, in its whole breadth and length, from its source to the sea . . . vessels belonging to the subjects of either nation shall not be stopped, visited, or subjected to the payment of any duty whatsoever.” The committee report deemed the United States to be the successor in interest to British rights under the treaty.

  The committee further recognized the claims of numerous states to parts of the Mississippi; it simply was not Congress’s river to bargain away. Additionally, the law of nations required the innocent passage of troops and individuals through nations at peace. “If the right to a passage by land through other countries may be claimed for troops which are employed in the destruction of mankind,” Madison wrote, “how much more may a passage by water be claimed for commerce which is beneficial to all nations.”21

  On October 25, Madison’s friend David Jameson in Virginia wrote to him with the news he had been dreading: “We are invaded.” The British had landed at Newport News and taken the city of Hampton. The invaders had fortified Portsmouth and made incursions down the river to Suffolk, easily taking possession of that city.22 Even with the state legislature still short of a quorum, Virginia rallied to repel the attack.23 A bounty was raised for enlistments, and militia were deployed to halt the advance. In Congress, Madison was added to the committee to correspond with the commander of the American forces in the South.

  In a November 10, 1780, letter to Madison from Richmond, Joseph Jones took the opportunity to brag on his nephew, Colonel James Monroe—perhaps bringing him to Madison’s attention for the first time. Monroe was commanding a three hundred-volunteer horse and infantry unit in defense of Virginia. At the time, Madison could not have guessed the significance that this young officer would have for his political career and the future of America.24

  But a volunteer unit such as the one Monroe was serving with mobilized in response to an immediate threat and disbanded just as suddenly. A permanent command of regular forces could be obtained only with substantial resources from himself or Virginia. Monroe, apart from volunteering where
he could, would continue to search vainly for a role in the war and spend most of his time in idleness.

  At a juncture when the states desperately needed unity, the Mississippi issue could be counted on to be divisive. On November 18, 1780, Georgia delegates moved to empower John Jay, Congress’s Ambassador to Spain, to yield the Mississippi if no separate peace would be made between Spain and Britain, and if the deal could be used to gain a substantial grant or loan to finance the war effort.25

  Georgia and South Carolina, which were largely controlled by the enemy, were terrified by the doctrine of uti possidetis, or “as you possess,” which holds that each side keeps the territory it has at the end of a conflict unless otherwise spelled out by treaty. If peace came without a decisive American victory, the two southernmost states might remain under British control. And bringing in Spain as an ally of the United States, not only of France, would all but guarantee independence—whereas Spain’s quitting the war entirely could well doom the American cause. The British were actively negotiating a separate peace with Spain, dangling the Mississippi as a reward.

  But Madison did not believe that peace should be bought with the territorial rights of the states. He suggested that states eager to sell out others for their perceived immediate self-interest would find no one standing with them when their own rights were challenged.26

  Throughout the Southern campaign, Madison’s attention drifted to his native land. In his first known statement on slavery, Madison criticized Virginia’s proposal to enlist soldiers by paying them in slaves, asking, “Would it not be just as well to liberate and make soldiers at once of the blacks themselves as to make them instruments for enlisting white soldiers? It would certainly be more consonant to the principles of liberty which ought never to be lost sight of in a contest for liberty.”27 Madison’s idea went nowhere; it would still prove controversial nearly a century later when blacks were mustered to fight in the Civil War.

  On New Year’s Day, 1781, Washington was instructed by Congress to distribute his forces to defend against the Southern invasion.28 The same day, American soldiers mutinied in Morristown, Pennsylvania, killing two of their own officers. They were starving, inadequately clothed, and unpaid and had been forcibly kept beyond their enlistment.

  Madison received frightening news from Virginia. Jefferson informed the delegates in Philadelphia that the British had burned five tons of gunpowder. Virginia had already sent gunpowder south; stores were getting perilously low.29 The government fled Richmond, barely before the traitor Arnold marched in with fifteen hundred men, destroying the public buildings of the city as well as foundries for producing arms, munitions, and rum.30 Virginia was in a state of terror. No one knew when the British would strike, or where, or what their objectives were. Nor could Virginians always tell friend from enemy. A traitorous state militia colonel was caught just in time to prevent him from delivering his thousand men to the British.31

  On January 2, 1781, the Virginia legislature had voted to maintain the American states’ rights to the Mississippi.32 But in desperation Congress voted to revise Jay’s instructions. He could now cede the Mississippi below the thirty-first degree of northern latitude (just north of New Orleans, the area controlled by Spain), but only at the insistence of Spain, and only if Spain would grant permission for navigation above that latitude. Jay was further instructed to get a free port below the thirty-first from which Americans could ship goods into the Gulf of Mexico.33

  On February 3, Madison introduced a measure to create an impost, a tax on imports, which would require the unanimous consent of every state legislature. He argued that it was “indispensably necessary to the support of public credit and the prosecution of the war.” The measure, which would take effect on May 1, would assess a tax of 5 percent of the value of all items imported into the states. Congress would be empowered to collect and appropriate the impost.34 If Madison’s tax passed in the states, the revenue would come not a moment too soon. Britain, Congress learned, was planning to borrow sixteen million pounds sterling and deploy ninety-two thousand marines to finish the war.

  In March of 1781 the Articles of Confederation, first recommended to the states in 1777, were finally ratified by all thirteen states. Maryland, the last holdout, had participated in the Continental Congress but had waited to ratify. The urgency of war pushed them toward formal ratification. The Continental Congress was now the Congress of the Confederation. As the former had already adhered to the rules proposed in the Articles, nothing would change. Meet the new government: same as the old government.

  Samuel Huntingdon of Connecticut was the president of Congress when the Articles were ratified and remained in that position for nearly four more months. But the president of Congress had less power than the average colonial Speaker of the House. In July, Thomas McKean became the first president elected after the Articles went into effect. McKean would soon resign to resume a much more important position: associate justice of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court.

  On March 13, 1781, twelve days after Maryland’s ratification, Madison introduced a radical amendment to the Articles. Madison’s amendment would have required states that ignored their federal responsibilities or refused to be bound by decisions of Congress to be compelled to do so by use of the army or navy or by the seizure of exported goods. Noncompliant states would also be subject to trade sanctions.35 The entire war effort had been jeopardized by states refusing to pay their share. “Without such powers,” Madison wrote Jefferson, “the whole confederacy may be insulted and the most salutary measures frustrated by the most inconsiderable state in the union.”36 However necessary, this measure would get nowhere with the states.

  French ships and guns headed to reinforce Virginia. They would carry twelve thousand troops to join another twelve thousand under the command of Lafayette.37 All sides, it seemed, were converging on the birthplace of British America for the final act of the war.

  In April, Jefferson wrote the Virginia delegation in Congress that at least four thousand British soldiers were at Portsmouth. The war in Virginia, he noted, had put a complete stop to any sort of commercial activity.38 Supplies were desperately needed: “It is impossible to give you an idea of the distress we are in for want of lead. Should this army from Portsmouth come forth and become active (and as we have no reason to believe they came here to sleep) our affairs will assume a very disagreeable aspect.”

  Meanwhile, Massachusetts had rejected Madison’s 5 percent impost on the ground that it was too high. Madison sat on a committee to hear their petition.39 When the hostilities had been confined to Massachusetts, that state had eagerly accepted the assistance of the others. Now that the focus of the war had shifted to other states, funding the effort had ceased to be a priority in Massachusetts.

  On April 28, the British troops took the city of Williamsburg.40 On May 14, Jefferson informed his delegates to Congress that the Virginia assembly had fled from Richmond to Charlottesville. As spring turned to summer, the latest in a list of shifting Virginia capitals fell to the British.

  On June 4, Jack Jouett arrived in Charlottesville after riding through the night with an urgent message for Governor Jefferson. He had spotted the British forty miles away—and closing in. Jefferson and all but the lieutenant governor and seven legislators escaped just in time, avoiding a tremendous setback for the defense of Virginia. Richard Henry Lee, Speaker of the House, described the situation: “Without either executive or legislative authority,” he wrote, “everything in the greatest possible confusion. . . . ”41

  And the push into Virginia continued. Six thousand British soldiers were serving under Cornwallis and Arnold. But Lafayette’s army was in Orange and Culpepper counties, waiting to link up with General Wayne. When their joint forces marched toward the British lines, Cornwallis fell back to Williamsburg.

  Madison was disgusted with the conduct of the British. “Every outrage which humanity could suffer has been committed by them,” he wrote a friend. “Desolation rather than
conquest seems to have been their object. They have acted more like desperate bands of robbers or buccaneers than like a nation making war for dominion.” British soldiers had committed “rapes, murders, and the whole catalogue of individual cruelties.” Madison considered this “a daily lesson to the people of the United States of the necessity of perseverance in the contest.”42

  The Virginia legislature managed to reassemble in Staunton and elected Thomas Nelson as governor to replace Jefferson, whose term had expired during the legislature’s relocation. On August 1, Madison shipped a barrel of sugar and a bag of coffee to his father, and a number of books to his sister “Miss Fanny.” He had been gone from Virginia for over a year now and certainly must have been concerned for them. Perhaps this small gesture would provide them some comfort in a time of troubles.

  On August 3, Governor Nelson notified the congressional delegation that the enemy had landed on the York and Gloucester shores. The two towns border the York River close to where it meets Chesapeake Bay, Gloucester on the north side of the river and York on the south side. The British had dug in and begun to build fortifications. It was here that they would make their stand.

  On September 4, Madison and the members of Congress reviewed French troops in the command of Generals Washington and Rochambeau as they marched past the Pennsylvania State House on their way to Virginia. British Admiral Hood sailed with thirteen ships from the West Indies to New York, which was still held by the British, joined up with eight other ships there, and put out to sea again. Madison noted somberly that “there is little doubt that this activity is directed against the mediated junction.”43 Events were coming quickly to a head.