At the end of the War
of 1812, Monroe was perfectly positioned to become
the next president of the United States. Two of his best friends, Thomas Jefferson and
James Madison, had directly preceded him in the office. He knew
well the inner-workings of government. And while not incredibly
popular, Monroe was at least very well respected by his countrymen.
He had widespread support within his party. Monroe was ready for
the next step.
Early on in the race, he received key endorsements and
the Virginia caucus selected delegates sympathetic to Monroe. He
overcame what amounted to almost token opposition from William
H. Crawford, who had succeeded Monroe as secretary of war. Crawford,
a popular and handsome but little-known Congressman, felt that
he could wait until after Monroe's term to run for president and
so never vigorously campaigned for the post. The Federalists, too,
mounted only token opposition. Their party's failure to support
the War of 1812 had permanently wounded the party and it dwindled
off. What opposition remained rehashed tired scandals and innuendo
involving Monroe's first term as minister to France and others
whined about the "Virginia influence" in the nation's politics,
since every president but John Adams had come from that state.
The election of James Monroe to the presidency, by 193 electoral
votes to 34 for the Federalist Senator Rufus King, was perhaps the
first time since Washington that the presidency had been awarded
for honorable public service instead of going to the winner of
a drawn-out and bitter political campaign.
Monroe's vice president, for both terms as it would turn
out, was Daniel D. Tompkins, the governor of New York. Tompkins
had a strong reputation as a reformer and cultivated a popular
image as a "farmer's boy." Throughout his career in government,
he supported public education and various reform movements, most notably
improved government treatment of Indians. While he was governor,
New York had passed a law outlawing slavery by 1827.
Monroe chose his cabinet carefully. He wanted to balance
the interests of a nation but did not want to unduly aid the dying
Federalist party. He selected John Quincy Adams as secretary of
state and asked Crawford to remain as secretary of the treasury–for alienating
Crawford might give rise to a strong opposition. Adams was a relative
unknown in Washington circles, having just completed nearly a decade
overseas on diplomatic tours, but was highly qualified and, perhaps
more importantly, a New Englander. Adams headed up the moderate
remnants of the Federalist Party, and as the son of the Federalist
leader John
Adams, served to bridge the ideological divide in
government. Monroe appeared to have chosen his cabinet masterfully–all
but one, Secretary of the Navy Benjamin W. Crowninshield, would
remain with him for his entire eight years as president. John C.
Calhoun served as secretary of state and William Wirt served as
attorney general.
Before the luster and excitement of the new president
wore off, Monroe took off on a tour of North and the New England
states–hoping that some attention to the northern states would
alleviate concerns over the "Virginia influence" and help mend
fences with the remaining federalists. At Trenton, the newspapers
relished in his address proclaiming that city as a turning point
in the Revolution and numerous accounts were given of the wound
the "hero" had received in its streets during his "brave" service
in the Revolution. He continued on to New York and West Point,
and his tour of Boston and New England was unlike just about any
presidential visit before or since. Cannons and parades followed
him wherever he traveled and there was no sign of the earlier animosity
towards the Virginian son. Masterfully, Monroe finished his tour
in Boston, a former hotbed of Federalism, on July 4. The glorious
Independence Day celebrations were never to be forgotten. At Harvard
he was awarded an honorary Doctor of Laws degree. Ending on a very
personal note in Vermont, Monroe met the woman who had dressed his
wound at Trenton.
The president's tour, however, did more than just gloss
over past disputes. In Monroe's fifteen-week tour, more Americans
saw him personally than any previous president and the executive
visits helped instill in America what a Boston newspaper termed
the "Era of Good Feelings," a sense of prosperity and wealth that
stemmed from the booming economy, the successful war, and the decline
of organized opposition to the president. Monroe had seemingly united
the United States. The peace was at best only temporary, but Monroe
encouraged the feeling for as long as it would last.
