Before the end of the year the failure of the embargo was patent to every fair-minded observer. Men might differ ever so much as to the harm wrought by the embargo abroad; but all agreed that it was not bringing either France or England to terms, and that it was working real hardship at home. Federalists in New England, where nearly one-third of the ships in the carrying trade were owned, pointed to the schooners "rotting at their wharves," to the empty shipyards and warehouses, to the idle sailors wandering in the streets of port towns, and asked passionately how long they must be sacrificed to the theories of this charlatan in the White House. Even Southern Republicans were asking uneasily when the President would realize that the embargo was ruining planters who could not market their cotton and tobacco. And Republicans whose pockets were not touched were soberly questioning whether a policy that reduced the annual value of exports from $108,000,000 to $22,000,000, and cut the national revenue in half, had not been tested long enough.
Indications multiplied that "the dictatorship of Mr. Jefferson" was drawing to a close. In 1808, after the election of Madison as his successor, he practically abdicated as leader of his party, partly out of an honest conviction that he ought not to commit the President-elect by any positive course of action, and partly no doubt out of a less praiseworthy desire not to admit the defeat of his cherished principle. His abdication left the party without resolute leadership at a critical moment. Madison and Gallatin tried to persuade their party associates to continue the embargo until June, and then, if concessions were not forthcoming, to declare war; but they were powerless to hold the Republican majority together on this programme. Setting aside the embargo and returning to the earlier policy of non-intercourse, Congress adopted a measure which excluded all English and French vessels and imports, but which authorized the President to renew trade with either country if it should mend its ways. On March 1, 1809, with much bitterness of spirit, Thomas Jefferson signed the bill which ended his great experiment. Martha Jefferson once said of her father that he never gave up a friend or an opinion. A few months before his death, he alluded to the embargo, with the pathetic insistence of old age, as "a measure, which, persevered in a little longer... would have effected its object completely."
CHAPTER IX. THE LAST PHASE OF PEACEABLE COERCION
Three days after Jefferson gave his consent to the repeal of the embargo, the Presidency passed in succession to the second of the Virginia Dynasty. It was not an impressive figure that stood beside Jefferson and faced the great crowd gathered in the new Hall of Representatives at the Capitol. James Madison was a pale, extremely nervous, and obviously unhappy person on this occasion. For a masterful character this would have been the day of days; for Madison it was a fearful ordeal which sapped every ounce of energy. He trembled violently as he began to speak and his voice was almost inaudible. Those who could not hear him but who afterward read the Inaugural Address doubtless comforted themselves with the reflection that they had not missed much. The new President, indeed, had nothing new to say—no new policy to advocate. He could only repeat the old platitudes about preferring "amicable discussion and reasonable accommodation of differences to a decision of them by an appeal to arms." Evidently, no strong assertion of national rights was to be expected from this plain, homespun President.
At the Inaugural Ball, however, people forgot their President in admiration of the President's wife, Dolly Madison. "She looked a queen," wrote Mrs. Margaret Bayard Smith. "She had on a pale buff-colored velvet, made plain, with a very long train, but not the least trimming, and beautiful pearl necklace, earrings, and bracelets. Her head dress was a turban of the same colored velvet and white satin (from Paris) with two superb plumes, the bird of paradise feathers. It would be ABSOLUTELY IMPOSSIBLE for any one to behave with more perfect propriety than she did. Unassuming dignity, sweetness, grace. Mr. Madison, on the contrary," continued this same warm-hearted observer, "seemed spiritless and exhausted. While he was standing by me, I said, 'I wish with all my heart I had a little bit of seat to offer you.' 'I wish so too,' said he, with a most woebegone face, and looking as if he could hardly stand. The managers came up to ask him to stay to supper, he assented, and turning to me, 'but I would much rather be in bed,' he said." Quite different was Mr. Jefferson on this occasion. He seemed to be in high spirits and "his countenance beamed with a benevolent joy." It seemed to this ardent admirer that "every demonstration of respect to Mr. M. gave Mr. J. more pleasure than if paid to himself." No wonder that Mr. Jefferson was in good spirits. Was he not now free from all the anxieties and worries of politics? Already he was counting on retiring "to the elysium of domestic affections and the irresponsible direction" of his own affairs. A week later he set out for Monticello on horseback, never again to set foot in the city which had witnessed his triumph and his humiliation.
The election of Madison had disclosed wide rifts in his party. Monroe had lent himself to the designs of John Randolph and had entered the list of candidates for the Presidency; and Vice-President Clinton had also been put forward by other malcontents. It was this division in the ranks of the opposition which in the end had insured Madison's election; but factional differences pursued Madison into the White House. Even in the choice of his official family he was forced to consider the preferences of politicians whom he despised, for when he would have appointed Gallatin Secretary of State, he found Giles of Virginia and Samuel Smith of Maryland bent upon defeating the nomination. The Smith faction was, indeed, too influential to be ignored; with a wry face Madison stooped to a bargain which left Gallatin at the head of the Treasury but which saddled his Administration with Robert Smith, who proved to be quite unequal to the exacting duties of the Department of State.
The Administration began with what appeared to be a great diplomatic triumph. In April the President issued a proclamation announcing that the British orders-in-council would be withdrawn on the 10th of June, after which date commerce with Great Britain might be renewed. In the newspapers appeared, with this welcome proclamation, a note drafted by the British Minister Erskine expressing the confident hope that all differences between the two countries would be adjusted by a special envoy whom His Majesty had determined to send to the United States. The Republican press was jubilant. At last the sage of Monticello was vindicated. "It may be boldly alleged," said the National Intelligencer, "that the revocation of the British orders is attributable to the embargo."
Forgotten now were all the grievances against Great Britain. Every shipping port awoke to new life. Merchants hastened to consign the merchandise long stored in their warehouses; shipmasters sent out runners for crews; and ships were soon winging their way out into the open sea. For three months American vessels crossed the ocean unmolested, and then came the bitter, the incomprehensible news that Erskine's arrangement had been repudiated and the over-zealous diplomat recalled. The one brief moment of triumph in Madison's administration had passed.
Slowly and painfully the public learned the truth. Erskine had exceeded his instructions. Canning had not been averse to concessions, it is true, but he had named as an indispensable condition of any concession that the United States should bind itself to exclude French ships of war from its ports. Instead of holding to the letter of his instructions, Erskine had allowed himself to be governed by the spirit of concession and had ignored the essential prerequisite. Nothing remained but to renew the NonIntercourse Act against Great Britain. This the President did by proclamation on August 9, 1809, and the country settled back sullenly into commercial inactivity.