Dolley Madison – The Intelligent Collector Magazine

Maybe it’s time for a First Gentleman

A three-piece coin silver coffee set, circa 1855, that belonged to Jefferson and Varina Davis sold for $28,680 at a June 2013 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

When a discussion of First Ladies occurs, the names of Dolley Madison, Eleanor Roosevelt and Jackie Kennedy Onassis are invariably among the first to be named. However, thanks to David McCullough’s splendid book (and TV mini-series) on John Adams, Abigail Adams (wife of one president and mother of a second) has gained long-overdue respect. Her wisdom, wit and persistent advocacy for equal rights for women was both fresh and modern.

The Adams marriage is well-documented due to an abundance of personal correspondence. She is also particularly associated with a March 1776 letter to John and the Continental Congress requesting that they “remember the ladies, and be more generous to them than your ancestors!”

As the first First Lady to reside in the White House, she was in a perfect position to lobby for women’s rights, especially when it came to private property and opportunities for a better education. After all, mothers played a central role in educating the family’s children. The more education she had, the better educated the entire family. It was this type of impeccable logic that made her so persuasive.

Had John won a second term, women’s progress would have been a big beneficiary with four more years of Abigail’s influence on policy-makers.

Abigail Adams is also given full credit for the total reconciliation of two long-time political enemies: Thomas Jefferson and her grouchy husband. They finally resumed their correspondence, which lasted right up until their same-day deaths on July 4, 1826 – the 50th anniversary of the founding of the nation.

That same year (1826), Varina Howell was born in rural Louisiana. Her grandfather, Richard Howell, served with distinction in the American Revolution (1775-1783) and would become governor of New Jersey in the 1790s. Her father fought in the War of 1812 and then settled in Natchez, Miss. Varina would later jokingly call herself a “half-breed” since she was born in a family with deep roots in both the North and South.

Jefferson Davis (1808-1899) was another prominent example of people who had deep ties to both the North and South, both in government and the military. In September 1824, he entered the U.S. Military Academy (West Point). He was in the middle of his class and was an infantryman 2nd Lieutenant in 1828. He married Sarah Taylor, daughter of President Zachary Taylor. However, they both contracted a fever and she died three months later. Deeply depressed, he lived in seclusion on his plantation until elected to Congress.

When the Mexican War started, he joined his ex-father-in-law’s army at Camargo, Mexico. Davis and his Mississippi riflemen did heroic duty. Davis was wounded at the Battle of Buena Vista and returned to the United States to find himself a hero. He was appointed to fill an unexpired U.S. Senate term. He was re-elected in 1850, gained prominence and made an unsuccessful bid to be governor. Newly elected President Franklin Pierce added him to his Cabinet as Secretary of War. Pierce had a problem with alcohol and relied on Davis to substitute when needed.

Inexorably, he was drawn into the vortex over the slavery issue. He spoke often of his love for the Union and even as the moral issues grew, he still felt the Union was safe, despite being fully aware of the growing political storm clouds. Devoted to the nation by lineage, history and patriotism, he was torn by the compact theory of the Union. These tenets held that the states were in fact sovereign, but they had yielded it by joining the Union and had to secede to reclaim it. He argued for stronger states’ rights within the Union, while urging moderation and restraint to save the Republic.

In December 1860, he was appointed to the Senate Committee of Thirteen, charged with finding a solution to the growing crisis. Davis ultimately judged the situation as hopeless and (reluctantly) advised secession and the formation of a Southern Confederacy.

Weary, dejected and ill, Jefferson Davis made a farewell address to the Senate on Jan. 21, 1861, emphasizing the South’s determination to leave the Union. Disunion was finally a stark reality. He and his family left Washington, D.C., and returned to Mississippi. It was there that he learned of his election as president of the Provisional Government of the Confederate States of America.

The Confederate guns began firing at Fort Sumter on April 12, 1861.

War began.

In one of the Civil War’s richest ironies, the second Mrs. Jefferson Davis – his wife of 16 years – was openly critical of secession, calling it foolish and predicting the Confederacy would never survive. As the first First Lady, she characterized her time as the worst four years of her life. She told her mother the South did not have the resources to win and when it was over, “She would run with the rest!”

She did run to Manhattan and supported herself writing columns for Joseph Pulitzer’s New York World. That baby born in 1826 had fallen in love with Jefferson Davis and became Varina Howell Davis. The only First Lady of the Confederacy died in 1906 and her tombstone reads simply “AT PEACE.”

Considering the wisdom of Abigail Adams and Varina Davis, maybe it’s time for a First Gentleman.

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

There were no winners or losers in the War of 1812

Portraits of James and Dolley Madison by Lawrence Williams went to auction in October 2007.

By Jim O’Neal

The White House was burned to a shell. The previous evening, British soldiers had found the president’s house abandoned and they feasted on the dinner and wine left there untouched due to the hasty exit of Dolley Madison and the entire staff. The date was Aug. 24, 1814, and the War of 1812 came directly to the young country’s capital. There was little doubt about the enemy’s intentions. Public buildings would be destroyed in retribution for the burning of both the legislature and governor’s residence in York (now Toronto), the capital of Upper Canada.

Someone (other than the First Lady) had rescued the Gilbert Stuart painting of George Washington by trimming it from its heavy frame. Executive papers and personal effects, along with silverware, were hurriedly spirited away by carriage for safekeeping. A torrential rain had mercifully helped minimize the damage.

Three days after the British departed, the Madisons returned to the ruins. The torching of the president’s house had mortified the populace, and political enemies accused Madison of cowardice for fleeing days before the incident. Even the press piled on, asserting that Dolley could have saved more, or worse, that the president could have prevented the entire affair. There was malicious gossip that this might finally reduce the excessive social entertaining of the First Lady.

Fortuitously, refuse from the fire had fallen gracefully within the stone walls of the White House and virtually no debris was scattered on the surrounding grounds. The city superintendent commissioned an assessment of all public buildings and the consensus was the White House was damaged more than the Capitol or other executive buildings. Since the blackened shells were shameful symbols of defeat, a debate arose over whether the federal city should be rebuilt. New buildings in a different location could provide an opportunity for a fresh start.

Cincinnati was mentioned as a perfect candidate since it was more central to the country’s westward expansion; the Ohio River and new steamboat connections to St. Louis and New Orleans would facilitate commerce. It would also minimize the need to contend with crossing the mountains, and the re-centering rationale was similar to the arguments used to support the earlier move from Philadelphia to Virginia. Fate intervened just in time with news of victory and the Treaty of Ghent, which ended the War of 1812 between the United States and the United Kingdom.

Congress hastily ratified an appropriation of $500,000 to fund the restoration of all damaged buildings. Jubilant backers of the city implied promises of more money as needed, knowing that once construction was under way, Congress would have no other option than to continue with the restoration. The capital had been saved and that was all that was important.

A few months earlier in September, the formidable British Navy attacked Fort McHenry in Baltimore. The fort’s soldiers were able to withstand 25 hours of bombardment. The next day, they hoisted an enormous American flag, which provided the inspiration of a poem by Francis Scott Key – The Star-Spangled Banner, which became an instant hit and in 1931 became the national anthem of the United States. British forces withdrew from Chesapeake Bay and organized their forces for a campaign against New Orleans. This strategic location would provide access to the Mississippi River and the entire western part of the United States. They still hadn’t abandoned their ambition of establishing a British North America.

Colonel Andrew Jackson was 45 years old when the War of 1812 started – semiretired on his 640-acre plantation the Hermitage – and still with a burning ambition to get involved. His prayers were answered with the assignment to assume command of New Orleans. His ragtag group of free blacks, pirates (including Jean Lafitte) and loyal Tennessee Volunteers cleverly defeated the British. General Jackson was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal and would become a two-term president in 1828.

In a slight twist, the victory at New Orleans occurred a few weeks after the British had already signed the Treaty of Ghent. However, Jackson’s role in the war was absolutely critical to the future expansion of the country. Not only did he spare an almost certain loss of territory in the Southwest, but he also cleared the air over the status of the Gulf Coast. Great Britain did not recognize any American claims about lands included in the Louisiana Purchase. They disputed – correctly – the legality of the treaty. France had no legal right to sell it to the United States since the 1800 Treaty of San Ildefonso between Spain and France specifically stated that France would not sell without offering to return it to Spain. This meant that none of the lower Mississippi or any of the Gulf Coast belonged to the United States.

Their claims were blithely ignored and the Treaty of Ghent was silent on the entire issue. It has been said that there were no winners or losers in the little War of 1812 … except for American Indians. The United States signed 15 different treaties guaranteeing their lands and then proceeded to break every one of them.

After Disaster of 1812, President Madison and First Lady Recovered Their Legacies

james-madison-circa-1812-meissen-saucer — This James Madison Meissen saucer, circa 1812, sold for $13,145 at a November 2011 Heritage auction. Little material culture was produced during Madison’s presidency.

By Jim O’Neal

Three days after the fall of Washington in the War of 1812, James and Dolley Madison returned in the wake of the British departure. They visited the ruins of the capital and White House, which sunk them into melancholy.

That the president of the United States had been burned out of his house mortified America, and the symbolic impact transcended the sad reality. Madison was accused of cowardice because he had fled, and the press claimed Dolley could have saved more than she did … a lot more. A Washington newspaper even stated angrily that a positive result of burning the White House was that it ended her queenly entertaining.

These difficult times came to a sudden, happy ending with the news of the Battle of New Orleans and the return of the American delegation from Ghent with a peace treaty. The president jubilantly proclaimed the war was at an end. While the glory of the hour went to General Andrew Jackson, both the president and first lady recovered their legacies and good names.

The White House had been burned to a shell, but it was the neatest of fires as the refuse had fallen precisely within the stone walls and no debris was scattered on the grounds. Crews dug for salvage in the deep bed of ashes and rubble that filled the basement, however not much was worth saving. The refuse was simply thrown into a nearby gully and attention turned to rebuilding (an important distinction).

A bill for rebuilding was rammed through Congress in two days to make sure Washington, D.C., remained the capital – and not some more-centralized area beyond the mountains, like Cincinnati, as some had proposed. Any “Phoenix” would rise from these ashes. As President Madison carefully pointed out, “the bill specifically stated ‘rebuilding’ not relocation.”

Considering that it took nearly 10 years to build the first WH, reconstruction moved along quickly, but not fast enough for the man who occupied the unfinished White House in October 1817.

A tall, blush-faced Virginian who looked all of his 58 years, James Monroe was the last luminary of the Revolutionary generation to occupy the presidency. Like George Washington, he had fought in the War of Independence and had been wounded at Trenton. Years later, he served as a delegate in negotiations with France for the Louisiana Purchase. During the Madison administration, he had been Secretary of State and Secretary of War, always with an eye on the presidency.

When he finally reached his goal, he knew exactly what he wanted to accomplish. Refusing to act as head of his party, he instead insisted that the war had united all Americans into one and that political parties were no longer needed! He proceeded to usher in “The Era of Good Feelings.”

We miss him.

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is President and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as Chairman and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

President Tyler’s Extreme Use of His Veto Alienated Political Leaders

By Jim O’Neal

The election year of 1844 found President John Tyler in the awkward position of having no political party willing to nominate him for re-election. Tyler’s extreme use of his veto pen had alienated the Whigs, who were exasperated with his stubbornness and unwillingness to negotiate.

Earlier in February, the president, his cabinet members and several hundred prominent individuals (including Dolley Madison) were on the new steam-powered warship the USS Princeton when a gun’s celebratory shot exploded. When the smoke cleared, eight men lay dead, including Secretary of State Abel Upshur, Secretary of the Navy Thomas Gilmer and ex-New York Senator David Gardiner.

Tyler ordered the bodies taken to the White House and laid in state in the East Room, where the funerals were held before burial in the Congressional Cemetery. Gardiner’s daughter Julia had been carried from the ship by President Tyler and chose to stay on at the White House to fully recuperate. Tyler’s first wife Letitia was the first First Lady to die in the White House and the president struck up a relationship with (the now-wealthy) Julia Gardiner. They were married four months later on June 16, 1844, causing quite a stir in the social circles of Washington. Tyler was 54 and Julia was 30 years younger. Over the years, she would bear seven children to join the eight from the earlier marriage.

Meanwhile, the Democratic National Convention in Baltimore was deadlocked between Martin Van Buren and Lewis Cass of Michigan. Then they received word that James Knox Polk was former President Andrew Johnson’s choice and so “Young Hickory” Polk was picked unanimously on the ninth ballot. When Polk’s nomination was flashed from Baltimore to Washington by Samuel F.B. Morse’s telegraph – the first official use of this new communication tool – Washington observers were sure the instrument had failed because the news was not plausible. Henry Clay, the Whig nominee, sarcastically asked, “Who is James K. Polk?”

It was a close contest, but Polk became the first “Dark Horse” candidate to win and the only Speaker of the House (ever) to be elected president. The 49-year-old Polk was also the youngest man to ever become president – to that time – when he took the oath of office on a rainy March 4, 1845. However, three days earlier on March 1, Congress passed a joint House-Senate resolution approving the annexation of Texas and Tyler signed it. And on his last day in office, Tyler also signed legislation admitting Florida as the 27th state.

On the same day, March 3, Congress mustered enough votes (two-thirds in each house) to override one of Tyler’s vetoes … the first time in history a presidential veto had been overridden. Immediately after Polk’s inauguration, Tyler and his family left for Virginia. Two days later, the Mexican minister to Washington filed a protest, calling the annexation of Texas an “act of aggression.” Mexico broke off diplomatic relations and the Mexican War soon followed.

Welcome to Washington, Mr. President.