by Chris DeRose
In Albemarle, Ball believed that Madison would lose only a few votes, while in Amherst he would receive only a few. Louisa was likely to split down the middle again, as it had in the election for the Ratification Convention. “Thus, sir, on Culpepper it is generally thought the decision will depend.” Ball felt that Orange would be secure, but he worried that Strother’s influence would extend to Charles Porter, the man who had defeated Madison for the legislature in 1776. Porter, as a former Delegate, could be a beachhead for the Anti-Federalists in Madison’s backyard.
Ball also knew that the road to Congress led through the critical community of the Baptists. “Upon the whole, the Baptist interest seems everywhere to prevail . . . I think upon such an occasion, I would even solicit their interest through some friends in a proper manner.”
Ball closed the letter with more sad news. Madison’s devoted friend James Gordon had fallen victim to a mental breakdown, though there were hopes of a speedy recovery. The cause was thought to be the ferocious combat of the previous legislative session.
Chapter Fourteen
THE FIRST ELECTION
“The present crisis is the most important that will probably ever happen in this country . . . on the choice of these persons depends our future well-being and prosperity.”
—THE VIRGINIA CENTINEL
These were the very first elections for Congress under the new Constitution. And no residents of a U.S. congressional district have ever had a better selection of candidates since the 5th District of Virginia in the election of 1789.
Both candidates had long records of public service—each had served with great distinction in the House of Delegates, the Council of State, the Congress of the Confederation, and the Virginia Ratification Convention. Madison was the more prominent public figure, the chief architect of the Constitution, and perhaps the greatest political thinker in American history. But he was running as a Federalist in an overwhelmingly Anti-Federalist district that had been drawn deliberately to exclude him from Congress. Monroe was also a prominent, popular, and respected Virginia statesman; a lawyer with a successful private practice; and a Revolutionary War hero.
Both candidates were highly motivated to win the election. James Madison’s shining career of public service had not been interrupted since Charles Porter’s bribery of the voters with meat and drink had cost Madison a place in the first Virginia House of Delegates. And James Monroe much preferred public service to the law practice he had had to resort to when he failed to return to Virginia to campaign in person for the 1786 House of Delegates election—and lost it by four votes. But each man believed, and they were right in so believing, that much more was at stake than their personal careers. The future of the Constitution and the new government it established hung in the balance.
Both candidates bore the scars of their previous electoral losses.
Madison had been defeated in the election to hold his seat when the 1776 Virginia Convention became the first House of Delegates. He surely did not regret complying with the law, which forbade bribing the voters with food and drink. But Madison may have regretted not making an issue of his opponent’s breaking that law. He had relied on the voters to prioritize his public service over full bellies, and they had disappointed him. This time, Madison would brave long distance, rough roads, and frigid temperatures to confront his opposition directly. The Anti-Federalists were claiming that Madison believed the Constitution was perfect as written; he would spare no pains to answer this distortion of his words and beliefs.
Monroe had been defeated in King George’s County in the legislative elections of 1786. His manager had pleaded with him to campaign in person, predicting that an in-person campaign would prevail, while an absentee candidate would go down to defeat. This prophecy proved correct, by four votes. Monroe, occupied with business in Congress and newly married, did not travel to Virginia for the canvass. This defeat meant nearly a year without the opportunity to serve. If this weren’t bad enough for a man who chafed whenever he found himself not engaged in public service, it meant a life practicing law, something Monroe dreaded. Monroe was resolved never to lose again, certainly not for lack of hard work. Despite his initial hesitancy to run, Monroe poured himself into the campaign with frenetic energy, determined to campaign everywhere, to personally engage voters, and to make liberal use of his pen to correspond with community leaders. From the first days of the race, Monroe wrote letter after letter to voters and mailed them to a county’s prominent Anti-Federalists, who would then distribute them personally to the intended recipients.
In this crucial race, both Madison and Monroe would engage in a style of retail campaigning that was rare in the eighteenth century.
George Lee Turberville, a young supporter of Madison from Amherst and a former member of the House of Delegates and the Virginia’s ratification convention, had also served with Monroe in the Revolution. Turberville witnessed the Anti-Federalist machine in action and was alarmed.1 Monroe’s letters addressed to William Cabell were filling the Amherst post office. Cabell was as powerful as any one man could be in a county. The county seat, Cabellsville, was named for his family. Cabell would soon run as a presidential elector, receiving 270 votes in Amherst for himself to absolutely zero for his opponent. Cabell was taking Monroe’s letters and distributing them to other men of influence.
Tuberville heard first hand the relentless message of the opposition: Madison was a friend to direct taxation and a believer that “not a letter of the Constitution could be spared.” The first charge was misleading; the second, flatly false. The Constitution did give Congress the power to lay direct taxes on individuals. Madison argued that the power of direct taxation was necessary. His defense of this power did not mean, however, that he intended to support its exercise. Madison believed that simply having the power to raise money for defense would deter nations such as Spain from acts of hostility. If war could not be avoided, Madison believed the tax would be essential. Madison was not running for Congress in order to raise taxes on individuals. As to the second charge, it is simply counterfactual to suggest that Madison believed the Constitution to be perfect. He had always said otherwise.
Monroe did not have—and would never have had—anything to do with dishonest campaigning, especially against his friend. Monroe was an honest person who would campaign on his political differences with Madison. His surrogates and allies, however—Cabell, Strother, Henry, and others—did not feel similarly constrained.
Tuberville was not the only Federalist concerned about the state of the campaign. With their candidate still in New York, Madison’s anxious supporters began the race without him. In December, a pamphlet written by “A True Federalist” was distributed and published throughout the district, and even picked up by newspapers in New York and Philadelphia. This essay defined the message of the Federalists for the rest of the campaign. According to “A True Federalist,” this election for Congress was not about whether the Constitution should be amended, but how and by whom.
The writer of the pamphlet took exception to the negative campaigning of the other side and asked the public to consider “whose conduct has been the most temperate, consistent, and dignified, and best adapted to the attainment of the great end—the amendments which we all think necessary.” James Madison possessed “the most patriotic and unblemished character, whose life had been an uninterrupted series of great and useful services; whose virtues stand only equaled by his talents, which to the last ages will be the boast of his native land, as they are at present the admiration of America and the world.”
The essay complained of Madison’s exclusion from the Senate, because, it said, “he had appeared the firm and able advocate of the new system and because one man [Henry] thought this . . . a crime so black, as to obliterate the remembrance of his former services, to make him the victim of his country’s censure; and above all, to banish his virtues and talents from that council where they would have been most signally useful.” “Show yourself th
e generous protectors of personal virtue,” the essayist exhorted in his closing. These false allegations were the “last effort of a disappointed party, which attempted to clog the operations of a government, the establishment of which it could not prevent.”
It was summer when Madison had last traveled from Virginia to New York. He had come from the successful Ratification Convention, buoyed on the wave of his native state’s support for the Constitution. Virginia had agreed to join with her sister states in the new government.
It was winter when Madison took the same road again, returning to Virginia. The Anti-Federalists’ resolve had not been broken by their initial defeat; they had dug in and redoubled their efforts. New York, later joined by Virginia, had called for a second constitutional convention.
Madison expected defeat at the hands of Monroe, but he wasn’t giving up yet. By December 18, he had arrived in Alexandria and written to request that his father send a carriage to take him and his belongings to Montpelier. His decision to return, he noted, was “rather of a recent date.”
Perhaps the greatest enemy of any political campaign is time—a finite but critical resource. Madison had a lot of ground to cover before the February 2 election, and not a minute to spare. His supporters offered suggestions to help him fill his schedule.
George Nicholas was particularly helpful with scheduling, as well as with campaign strategy: “Every art has been used to prejudice the minds of people against you,” he warned. Nicholas advised Madison to publish his address in newspapers that would be delivered to “every freeholder’s fireside.” Because freezing temperatures and snow would limit attendance at January “Court Days,” during which legal proceedings and other events important to the community were held, newspaper publicity would become especially important. Still, Nicholas encouraged Madison to attend every Court Day he could. No opportunity to meet even a few voters could be ignored.2
Nicholas also suggested campaigning at polling places on January 7, the day set for the election of the Electoral College—even though the presidential election, he believed, would be poorly attended, too, not only because of the weather but because the election of George Washington as president was a foregone conclusion.
Nicholas pointed out that Fluvanna and Amherst Counties would not have another Court Day before the election and suggested specific influential people in those places and others that Madison should write to personally. Like Burgess Ball, Nicholas suggested Baptist Minister John Leland, whose reach extended into Louisa and Goochland Counties.3
Nicholas also impressed upon Madison that he was so intrinsically tied to the Constitution in public opinion that his defeat would be perceived across the continent as a rejection of his great work. For Madison, the stakes—both political and professional—could not have been higher.
Newspapers were a significant source of information for voters during the election of 1789; both sides made use of them. An “Appeal for the Election of James Monroe” ran in January.4 The Constitution, the author of the “Appeal” argued, “in its present form has not the hearts and affections of the people: their fears and apprehensions are greatly alarmed and in my opinion very justly.” If “proper men are elected...the amendments will take place and thereby the minds of people quieted and I hope peace and happiness secured.” James Monroe, the author pointed out, is a man of character, integrity, and experience, having served as a member of Congress, House of Delegates, and Council of State.
The “Appeal” painted Monroe as a defender of the liberty America had been blessed with: “Nine tenths of the habitable globe are immersed in and groaning under the most dreadful oppressions of tyranny, and that never was the design of providence . . . it is only by a strange and unaccountable perversion of His benevolent intention to mankind that they were ever deprived of liberty.”
Monroe, the essayist argued, was the only choice for voters who wanted to amend the Constitution to make their liberty secure. While “A True Federalist” had conceded that amendments were necessary but claimed that Madison was the best man for the job, the author of the “Appeal” could point out that his candidate had been a leading proponent of amending the Constitution at a time when Madison was its chief defender. The choice, he argued, was between one candidate who had been “uniformly in favor of [amendments], or one who has been uniformly against them . . . the object of amendments can alone be promoted by one who feels a desire for their introduction.”
The Anti-Federalists were determined to make this race a referendum on amendments—to convince voters that a vote for Monroe was a vote for amendments; a vote for Madison, against them.
American politicos today obsess over electoral results, believing they can use them to divine the future. Things were no different on January 7, 1789, when Virginia held its first elections for the Electoral College. Since both candidates were pledged to Washington, the race became a test between the candidates’ positions on the Constitution. General Edward Stevens, a Revolutionary War hero who supported the Constitution, faced off against William Cabell, the Anti-Federalist.
The electoral districts and congressional districts were not exactly coextensive, there being twelve of the former and only ten of the latter. But six of the counties in the 5th Congressional District were in the same electoral district, and the vote in them held out some hope to Madison.5
Stevens Cabell
Albemarle 109 71
Amherst 0 270
Culpepper 177 26
Fluvanna 15 66
Orange 113 4
Spotsylvania 268 10
The Federalist Stevens had beaten the Anti-Federalist Cabell by 682 to 447 in those counties which were in the 5th Congressional District. Monroe’s residence in Spotsylvania, however, meant that he would probably fare better there than Cabell had, and perhaps even do as well as Stevens. Also, Stevens hailed from Culpepper, the population center of the district. Louisa and Goochland were part of a different Electoral College district, where the exact tallies are unknown. The results of this election meant only that the race between Madison and Monroe was close; either side could take the win.
On January 12, Jefferson sent Madison copies of various declarations of rights circulating in Europe, which everyone seemed to be “trying their hands at forming.” He also thanked Madison for a previous letter including samples of the Mohican language. Jefferson was comparing Mohican to the languages of Asia and trying to detect a common ancestry. While Madison much preferred natural science and political theory to a winter of difficult campaigning, he preferred public service to both. And he knew that he would have nothing but time to study were he to lose.
Both candidates courted critical constituency groups. No group of this kind was more numerous, or more politically motivated, than Virginia’s religious dissenters. Baptists and other dissenters had been motivated by something experienced by such minority sub-groups throughout history—political intolerance and abuse by their government.
Monroe was planning to attend a meeting of Baptist preachers in Louisa. Ben Johnson, a Madison supporter, caught wind of this meeting and told Monroe that he would find out where and when the meeting was to be held and forward the information on by special messenger at his own expense. It is likely that even this message was delivered by special messenger while Madison was campaigning in Louisa.
Though Madison had supported their rights to religious liberty in the past, the Baptists were not an easy sell. Back on March 7, 1788, in the run-up to Virginia’s ratification convention, the Baptist General Committee had had its regular meeting in Goochland County. There they had unanimously resolved that the Constitution did not “make sufficient provision for the secure enjoyment of religious liberty.” This resolution was an easy decision for them. (A more contentious issue—whether to call for the “yoke of slavery to be made more tolerable”—was a topic they held over until the next session.)
The Baptists were the most consequential voting bloc in the 5th District, and they probably had no leade
r more important than George Eve. Born in 1748, Eve was raised in Culpepper County. He first professed faith and joined the Baptists at the age of twenty-four when an itinerant preacher visited the community. At thirty years old, Eve became a minister, creating the “Ragged Mountain Baptist Society” in his home county. In order to avoid religious persecution, the group met secretly in an orchard of beech trees.6
Because there were few Baptist ministers at the time, it was not uncommon for a man like Eve to serve multiple congregations. In addition to his duties to Ragged Mountain, he was the pastor of Blue Run and Rapidan Churches. Eve himself may have been present in the latter church when its pastor, Elijah Craig, was arrested at the pulpit. Adam Banks, another member of Rapidan, was arrested in a private residence simply because of the content of a prayer. The owner of the home, who was not a Baptist, was jailed as well for permitting such an offense .7 Between Ragged Mountain, Rapidan, and Blue Run, Eve had hundreds of congregants in the 5th Congressional District and was recognized as a leader in the broader Baptist community.
It was to George Eve, then, that Madison, much to the relief of his supporters, began to explain his true beliefs. And Madison’s letter didn’t arrive in Eve’s hands a moment too soon.
On January 17, 1789, Eve presided over a worship service at Rapidan Church, in Culpepper. Adam Banks, the same man who had been jailed for worship in a private home, made a motion that the congregation should debate the upcoming election for Congress. He further moved that the church unite its formidable voting bloc behind a single candidate.8