Watching events from afar, some decided party rancor had disappeared, others that Federalists had lit upon disingenuousness as their most promising approach to regaining power. The Lexington Gazette noted that no Republican had been more reviled by the Federalists from 1796 until the end of the War of 1812, with Harrison Gray Otis, Josiah Quincy, and the rest of their Essex Junto leading the way—but now the Federalist Massachusetts Senate, led by the same Otis and Quincy, had appointed a committee to propose measures for welcoming Monroe to the state, and Otis chaired a separate committee with a similar purpose. Federalists must have their eye on appointed office.3 Other Republicans, however, saw this domestic political tranquility as of a kind with the perfect peace America enjoyed at this time with every nation in the world.4

  After a grand procession of Monroe’s party and Boston’s carriage-bound elite, Monroe was escorted into the Exchange Coffee-House, where he was to stay, by Colonel Rogers and the Independent Cadets. A lengthy address was read to him on behalf of the local Committee of Arrangements by attorney Charles Bulfinch, whom Monroe would soon appoint Benjamin Henry Latrobe’s successor as architect of the U.S. Capitol.5 Bulfinch invoked George Washington’s visit to the Massachusetts capital as precedent for Monroe’s, as well as bringing up the “principles of an elevated and impartial policy” which Monroe had “been pleased to promulgate.” So too did he mention Monroe’s service during the Revolution, in which Monroe had been “distinguished.”6

  Monroe developed Bulfinch’s reference to Washington, rejoiced that the new government had been successful through nearly three decades, and closed by saying, “Let us, then, unite in grateful acknowledgements to the Supreme Author of all good for extending to us so great a blessing. Let us unite in fervent prayers that He will be graciously pleased to continue that blessing to us, and our latest posterity.” He expressed “confidence” in “the firm and generous support of [his] fellow citizens throughout” the United States.7

  Bostonians took Monroe on tours of numerous military and other sites, treated him to several public meals, presented numerous addresses, and heard his answers to those speeches. On Independence Day the president was taken to the Old South Meeting House to hear the annual address marking the occasion. Although the state legislature had adjourned, a number of legislators tendered an appreciative message, which included both plaudits for his past services and what had by this point on his trip become the obligatory observation that unlike that of a European monarch, “the personal safety of the Chief Magistrate of a Republican Government requires no other protection than what arises from the affections of his fellow citizens.”8 He then feasted with some six hundred locals, and when it came his turn to offer a toast, Monroe said, “The Commonwealth of Massachusetts—Whose Sons so eminently contributed to the Independence we this day celebrate.” As Monroe retired, the governor led the assemblage in nine cheers.9 Before going to bed Monroe sent a letter to John Adams accepting his invitation to dinner.10 As Christopher Gore summarized the situation, “The President is here, he rides hard, visits everything, and in so rapid a manner that it is utterly impossible he should burden his mind with any superfluous knowledge.” As for the president’s remaining Boston itinerary, Gore said, “To-morrow he visits the Navy yard, seventy-four gun ship, reviews Middlesex militia, dines with the Governor, and spends the evening with Senator Otis. So we go, and the sooner he goes the sooner will the town and its neighborhood be at rest.”11 As for Monroe himself, he answered a query whether “he was not completely worn out” by saying, “o no—a little flattery will support a man through great fatigue.…”12

  The next day, pioneering nurseryman John Kenrick of Newton wrote Monroe enclosing a pamphlet he had recently written, The Horrors of Slavery. Kenrick lamented to Monroe that “the unhappy system of Slavery … still exist[ed] in this land of freedom.” The pamphlet, Kenrick said, had been “lately compiled with a view to awaken public attention to an evil so obviously inconsistent with moral right, and our professed attachment to equal liberty.” The author would “be unspeakably happy” in case his correspondent used his “influence in favour of any judicious & honorable plan for restoring the degraded African slaves of [America] to those natural & civil rights we all so dearly prize.” As we have seen, then-Governor Monroe had determined that slavery in Virginia must end, and as will be detailed hereafter, President Monroe took steps that set American slavery on a course to extinction—steps Mr. Kenrick lived to see.13 The day after Kenrick wrote his letter, the president received communion at Christ’s Church in Boston, which had been the site of Paul Revere’s famous signal of two lit lanterns for under a minute on the night of April 18, 1775.14 The following day Monroe sat for a portrait by Gilbert Stuart, went to Harvard College to receive an honorary LLD, and reviewed two thousand militiamen on Boston Common.15 Afterward he dined with John Adams in Quincy.16 It was in its account of the dinner that the Boston Columbian Centinel coined the term “Era of Good Feelings,” which has ever since been used in reference to the Monroe administration.17 The sentiment of universal fellow feeling was promoted by Monroe in his evenhanded dealings with all whom he encountered on his trip, perhaps particularly in response to a communication from Republicans in the Massachusetts legislature. “[P]resented an address” by two of them on behalf of their caucus, “[h]e instantly replied (as is said) that He knew no Party. They then said it was from the Minority of the Legislature.”18 Monroe wrote them a note saying he looked for what we now would call bipartisan cooperation, or even the disappearance of partisanship, in pursuit of measures all knew to be desirable. As “our principal dangers and difficulties have passed,” he hoped “that the character of the deliberations, and the course of the government itself, will become more harmonious and happy, than it has heretofore been. Satisfied, as I am, that the union of the whole community in support of our republican government, by all wise and proper measures, will effectually secure it from danger, that union is an object, to which I look with the utmost solicitude.” He, for his part, would work in “support of our republican government” as his “sole object”—which is to say, he would not act for party purposes.19

  Monroe’s attempt to prevent this address, coupled with his tepid response, seemed to some to have “mortified, if not offended, the democracy of N. England.”20 As he told Jefferson later in his tour, “In all the towns thro’ which I passed there was an union between the parties, except in the case of Boston. I had suppos’d that that union was particularly to be desir’d by the republican party, since as it would be founded exclusively on their own principles, every thing would be gain’d by them.” Some Republicans disagreed, and even presented their own address. “This form’d the principal difficulty, that I have had to meet to guard against any injury arising from the step taken to the republican cause, to the republican party, or the persons individually.” Having seen the address and Monroe’s response, Jefferson would understand.21

  The Republican Boston Patriot expressed unease over the evident disappearance of parties. It conceded that “appearance of concord is valuable,” adding that “Little more is required to remove the prejudices against each other entertained by partisans of opposite sides than free, social and personal intercourse. It is soon found that there is about an equal share of talents, virtue and good fellowship on both sides—in comparison with which difficulties of opinion are of minor importance and even these will generally in such cases be found to be much less than was before supposed.” On the other hand, however, what was happening in America went beyond this. “I have heard it suggested,” the editor continued, “that the federalists have consented to suspend hostilities against the republicans, because the republicans have adopted the federal creed—‘You come over,’ say they, ‘to our measures—we go over to your men.’ I am not able to say how general this opinion is, but as I have heard it myself from two or three persons, it appears to me entitled to a little attention.” He went on to say that the chief difference between the parties was that between aristocrats (the Federalists having, for example, always preferred the British to the American constitution) and proponents of “a purely popular government.” If the two sides had converged, he insisted it was the Federalists who had changed. He reasoned similarly in regard to the need for some kind of permanent military establishment, and he denied that favoring a federally chartered bank amounted to Republicans’ having abandoned their position regarding “too great license … in interpreting the general phrases used in the Constitution in favor of the government.” “The truth is,” he concluded, “the parties are founded on the natural division of Aristocracy and Democracy—a division which … nothing can ever thoroughly reconcile.”22

  Besides ignoring the impulse of partisanship, Monroe also resisted the temptation to allow the various parades, musters, addresses, and displays of pomp to which he was subjected along his way to affect his ego. So when on July 12th he received a laudatory address from a town elder in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, the president replied, in part, “Fellow citizens—Accept my best thanks for your kind reception, which is characterized by so many interesting circumstances. This general movement of my fellow-citizens, and the expression of their regard, for the Chief Magistrate of the Nation, is not directed to me personally. My humble services give me no such claim. I see in it the strongest evidence of their attachment to the free government under which we live, and of an enlightened and expanded patriotism.…” He would respond similarly to other such addresses, on this trip and in the future, and he knew that his fellow Americans could only come to fair conclusions concerning his merits “when [he] retired from public life.”23

  Monroe, on stage all the while, said this politely. On the other hand the Richmond Enquirer found the whole spectacle disgusting:

  So much parade—such bombastic accounts of who he breakfasted or dined with; his cortege, and coteries, and collations, and balls; mixed up with such ridiculous and parasitical accounts of “Mrs. Harrison Gray Otis’s mansion,” “The splendid mansion of Mr. Speaker Bigelow,” &c. &c. that we turn away with disgust and ask ourselves: Is this America? Are these the manners of republican citizens? Is this the description of the trip of an American officer in the discharge of his Executive duties? Or are we in England, where ‘the great man’ scarcely moves without a herald at his heels? James Monroe is an honest man … one of the plainest men that ever sat in the chair of any state. But these descriptions suit not him, nor the office which he fills, nor the people, whose agent he is.24

  At Kennebunk, Maine District, Massachusetts, Monroe explained that he had intended on his journey “to have devoted my attention exclusively to … public and national objects,” but “when I found a disposition so generally manifesting itself, to improve the occasion for a personal interview of the people with the Citizen whom their voluntary suffrages had elevated to the highest office in their gift, and the high value which they entertain for its republican form, I cheerfully yielded to their wishes.” Having accepted the modification, he learned “how much we are one people; how strongly the ties, by which we are united, do in fact bind us together; how much we possess, in reality, a community, not only of interest, but of sympathy and affection.” He told the Kennebunkers how happy he was to see that “you are pleased to express a confident hope that a spirit of mutual conciliation may be one of the blessings which may result from my administration. This, indeed,” he continued, “would be an eminent blessing, and I pray it may be realized.” He thought that

  Nothing but union is wanting to make us a great people. The present time affords the happiest presages that this union is fast consummating. It cannot be otherwise. I daily see greater proofs of it. The further I advance in my progress through the country, the more I perceive that we are all Americans.… Nothing could give me greater satisfaction than to behold a perfect union among ourselves—an union which, as I before observed, is all we can want to make us powerful and respected—an union, also, which is necessary to restore to social intercourse its former charms and to render our happiness, as a nation, unmixed and complete.

  Lest his audience think that Monroe intended simply that his past political foes should accept the rightness of Republicans’ program, he hastened to correct them. “To promote this desirable result,” he instructed, “requires no compromise of principles; and I promise to give to it my continued attention.…”25

  As in previous stages of his trip, Monroe in Maine encountered official welcomes in each town he entered. One typical specimen is the brief message from Biddeford, whose leading men said that although their town included neither natural nor artificial attractions worth his time, yet its citizenry wanted to express its respect and pleasure at his visit.26 To similar sentiments the residents of neighboring Saco added praise for his role in the Madison administration and hope that he would support Maine’s statehood movement.27 In planning their visit Portlanders held that even if they could not “give him a reception of such gorgeous show and imposing splendor as he found in New York and as he is likely to meet at Boston—we are sure that it will not be less cordial.”28 Afterward a local woman wrote of her town’s experience with Monroe that, “There appeared to be an entire oblivion of party spirit, and all hearts seem’d to harmonize in the honours paid to the President.”29

  As Monroe made his way from one little New Hampshire town to another, he received a notice from Governor William Plumer, the former U.S. senator, that the two would not be able to meet. “I am still confined to my chamber & bed,” Plumer wrote, “by a severe attack of the typhus fever, which has not yet, I fear, reached its crisis.” Though no longer a Federalist, this official was not one on whose support Monroe could confidently count—as we shall see.30 Plumer’s omission to prepare a fancy reception for the president elicited public criticism of him, whatever his state of health.31

  Meanwhile, in describing the popular turnout for the president’s passing, the Concord New Hampshire Patriot picked up on the by now common metaphor of “the red rose and white” being “literally united—party considerations were buried”—denoting a surprisingly peaceful outcome, as the Wars of the Roses had ended only in the destruction of both the House of York and the House of Lancaster, respectively the House of the White Rose and the House of the Red Rose. (This heraldic imagery was known to Americans of the Jeffersonian era from David Hume’s famous The History of England.) This paper too invoked a bipartisan “era of good feelings” coincident with Monroe’s administration.32 The Charleston, South Carolina, Southern Patriot, which struck a Madisonian note in insisting that parties would always exist where there were “free institutions” alongside “occasions that nourish party agitations” and that it was undesirable party should pass away, because “our government is upheld by these checks and jealousies of party, which eminently characterize free commonwealths,” seems to have been decidedly in the minority in looking upon President Monroe’s efforts to tamp down party disputation skeptically.33

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  We have, unfortunately, no word from Monroe about his reaction to visiting the most famous denizens of Enfield, New Hampshire, in the “Habitation of the Shaken community”: the Shakers. This celibate religious sect, whose name recognized that dancing was part of their religious practice, had attained a position of considerable notoriety, not only for its unusual religion, but for its fine woodworking. A newspaper account said of the visit that “[Monroe] was received with the simplicity which distinguishes the sect.” After a stilted welcome from the group’s elder, “The President examined the institution and their manufactures, was also welcomed by the women, and having remained about an hour, he retired very much pleased with his visit.”1 How exactly this attraction made its way onto Monroe’s itinerary is unclear.

  Monroe’s impression of Hanover, New Hampshire, may have been expected by one and all to be dominated by the local Dartmouth University, whose trustees unanimously voted to confer the degree of Doctor of Laws (LLD) upon the president,2 but things did not turn out that way. Rather, one evening at a social gathering, “A most interesting interview between the President and Mrs. Wheelock, widow of the late [Dartmouth] President Wheelock, was witnessed with great pleasure. Mrs. W.,” the Concord (N.H.) Gazette account said, “had officiated as nurse to Lt. Monroe when he was wounded at Trenton, during the revolution, and thrown into the house where she then resided. A recollection of the fact, and rehearsal of the circumstance, made a great impression on the assemblage, and the sentiments expressed on the occasion cannot be forgotten by any who were present.”3

  In fifteen days in New York, Monroe visited places in or associated with over a dozen towns. He was fêted in each, besides which special mention was made by the locals in their formal addresses to him of nearby sites of military events in the recent war (for example, Sacketts Harbor). As in other places on his tour, Monroe attended church services when convenient.4

  At Ogdensburg in northernmost New York on August 1st, a local eminence was chosen to deliver Monroe an address in which he said that people in that part of the country had special reason to endorse the president’s mission, as they had before found themselves under attack from the powerful enemy to the north and could expect in case of future hostilities to endure the same problem again. In his response the president said that “[h]e perfectly agreed that a time of peace was the best time to prepare for defence,” but he observed that he “had much pleasure in stating that the best understanding prevailed between our government and that of Great Britain, and was persuaded we had every reason to look for a permanent peace.”5 The accuracy of Monroe’s appraisal of the situation was reflected in a polite letter from Colonel Lewis Grant, commander of His Britannick Majesty’s Troops on the Niagara Frontier, inviting the president to cross over into Canada and either be officially welcomed or not, whichever he might prefer.6 The British minister to the United States forwarded to Foreign Secretary Viscount Castlereagh Grant’s subsequent letter explaining that Grant’s invitation to the president had arrived too late, Monroe already having boarded a ship to continue his trip when he received it.7