Here's Where It Gets Interesting - Elizabeth Monroe’s Journey from Parisian Prison to White House

Episode Date: August 29, 2022

Join us on Here's Where It Gets Interesting today as we dive into the First Ladyship of Elizabeth Monroe. As the reserved wife of 5th President, James Monroe, Elizabeth added a more formal feel to entertaining in the White House. She was raven-haired and regal, and kept the public at arms length, which wasn’t always a popular decision. She modeled her social engagements after Parisian customs, a city she loved deeply. Stay tuned to learn about her heroic act that once saved the life of a well-known French aristocrat. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hello, friends. Welcome. Welcome to another episode in our series about the hidden lives of First Ladies. And today I want to talk to you about a woman who was often overshadowed by the stories of her predecessors. Though she was reserved and introverted, she managed to experience many moments of excitement throughout her life, including the time she took dramatic action to save the life of a well-known French aristocrat. Keep listening, because here's where it gets interesting. I'm Sharon McMahon, and welcome to the Sharon Says So podcast. If you've been following along with our First Lady series, you may very well know who's next in the lineup, but maybe you don't. Elizabeth Monroe doesn't usually make many top 10 lists,

and while she and her husband James Monroe occupied the White House during a time of national prosperity, historians call the era of good feelings. They were not a flashy couple and really didn't participate in flashy, divisive politics. In fact, this was during a time period when the Federalist Party leaders like John Adams, Alexander Hamilton had retired or died off. And there was really only one political party left in the country, the Democratic Republicans. And during this time, James Monroe went on a national tour to sort of welcome all of the Federalists into the Democratic Republican Party to create a wider umbrella under which more Americans could rest. So historians call this the era of good feelings. Did it mean that everybody had good feelings?

No. But Elizabeth was born Elizabeth Courtright in 1768, the youngest daughter of an old money New York family. Her father Lawrence was a merchant and a founding member of the New York Chamber of Commerce. Lawrence made some of his large profits during the French and Indian War as a privateer. He co-owned several private ships that operated on behalf of the colonies during wartime. Elizabeth had four older siblings, a brother

and three sisters. Her mother died when Elizabeth was nine from what was listed in the records as childbed, a general term that would have been used to mean she died in labor or shortly thereafter. Sometimes called childbed fever, it usually indicates some kind of a maternal infection. There was no mention of a baby, so it probably didn't survive childbirth either. Another sibling, an unnamed toddler, died at just 13 months old a few days later and was buried alongside Elizabeth's mother. And Elizabeth's father, Lawrence, never remarried. The household did rely on the work of at least four enslaved servants, though, and it's probable that they helped in raising the motherless Courtright children. They were raised to be refined, and Elizabeth would have been they helped in raising the motherless Courtright children. They were

raised to be refined, and Elizabeth would have been schooled in the social graces befitting a daughter from a wealthy New York family. During the Revolutionary War, Lawrence Courtright was not able to repeat his past privateering successes, and he and his children began facing financial difficulties. But debt to a well-established family in the 1790s was more of a suggestion than a reason to consider a drastic lifestyle change. So one evening in the spring of 1785, 16-year-old Elizabeth and her three sisters donned their gowns and attended the theater. The girls turned heads. Elizabeth stood no more than five feet tall, but she had a quiet grace. She was dark haired and blue eyed

and caught the attention of a few continental congressmen who were in New York at the time. I can't help but picture the Schuyler sisters, right? Like these lovely court-right sisters dressed up attending the theater. And James Monroe's cousin and fellow congressman described Elizabeth and her sisters that evening as having made so brilliant and lovely an appearance as to depopulate all the other boxes of all genteel male people therein. In other words, in today's terms, the men were tripping over themselves to get as close to the attractive sisters as they could. James Monroe himself was particularly captivated by Elizabeth. He was 26 at the time, about 10 years older than she was. He was a thoughtful sort of

man, unpretentious and always ready with a kind word. He would become the last of what we call the Virginia dynasty. Of the first five men who served as president, four of them, Washington, Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe, were born in Virginia and had family roots in Virginia plantations. Of course, John Adams was the lone New Englander, the first five presidents. James and Elizabeth married in February of the following year, a few months after Elizabeth turned 17. James Monroe wrote to his friend Thomas Jefferson in 1786 saying that he had married the daughter of a gentleman who was injured in his fortunes. Monroe didn't marry Elizabeth under any pretense that she would come to the match with money or land. After a brief honeymoon on Long Island, the newlyweds returned to New York to live with her father until Congress adjourned.

the newlyweds returned to New York to live with her father until Congress adjourned. James was a lawyer by trade, and he and Elizabeth soon moved to the much smaller city of Fredericksburg, Virginia, so he could set up his practice. We don't know exactly how Elizabeth felt about this change in location. There's no surviving letters or anything like that penned to her family or friends. Maybe she liked it. Maybe she reveled in the quieter life away from the hustle and bustle of New York City. Or maybe she missed the noise, the society, and her family. The couple started their family while in Fredericksburg. Elizabeth gave birth to a baby girl in late 1786, and they named her Eliza. Little Eliza was around seven years old when James

Monroe was asked by George Washington to serve as the United States ambassador to France. The three Monroes set sail in 1794. And I know we've talked about a number of prominent founders who spent time in France in the late part of the 18th century, but the Monroes served in the role after many Americans had left the country. The French Revolution was in full swing, and France was not the most safe place to be. It was Elizabeth's first trip overseas. She was 25 at the time, still young. Maybe she was up for a bit of adventure. And she was immediately taken with Paris, its customs, and its people. As a child, she probably would have been given a basic education in French and Latin, which would have made her transition to

Paris easier than it was for Abigail Adams, who did not understand French. She quickly adapted to her role as a diplomat's wife and cultivated a public persona that endeared her to the city's elite. They loved her so much that they called her La Belle Americaine. She also understood the importance of nuance. Although Elizabeth was a practicing Protestant, while in France, she enrolled Eliza in a French school, adopted a French style of dressing, and often wore a topaz necklace with a large cross pendant on it. Christians of many denominations wear crosses as religious symbols today, but in Europe in the 1700s, it was a common accessory of high-class Catholics in France and Spain, wearing it signified to them that Elizabeth and James Monroe fit in. The United States had come a very long way

since they sent Benjamin Franklin to France as an ambassador. He was seen in his plain, rumpled style of dress by the French aristocracy as a novelty, and the United States, by extension, was a plain and humble land asking for France's help. The Monroes, in contrast, needed to appear to the French as dignified, respectful, and quietly powerful. This image would secure France's acceptance in the establishment of the young country and view it as sophisticated and devoted to the principles of democracy. During the last days of the reign of terror, Elizabeth Monroe made a daring choice that would solidify the Monroe's success in retaining France as an American ally. Without going into the entire history of the French

Revolution, which would take a little more time than we have in this episode, I'll give you just a very brief background. Though the Monroes and many French aristocrats moved through Paris freely, they did so very carefully. The revolution had started four years earlier with the storming of the Bastille, which was a French prison situated on the outskirts of Paris. Afterward, the government was in a constant state of change. And by 1773, the revolutionaries maintained a very shaky control. France was engaged in military conflicts with several countries, including Great Britain and Austria, and civil war had already devastated many cities and villages. Radicals called the Jacobins stepped into power, established the Committee of Public

Safety, and started the Reign of Terror. They began to persecute anyone they deemed traitorous through their revolutionary tribunal. The court made only two verdicts. The accused was either innocent or they were put to death. During the reign of terror, which lasted around 10 months, over 17,000 people were executed, many by beheading via the guillotine, and thousands more either died in prisons or from being beaten to death by enforcers in the streets. Marie Antoinette was one of the first people to be executed during the Reign of Terror. Another woman well-known and much loved by Americans, sat in jail waiting for execution. Adrienne de Lafayette was the wife of the Marquis de Lafayette. Lafayette was a celebrated

Revolutionary War hero who famously commanded the victorious American troops in the Battle of Yorktown and several other skirmishes with the British. He was a great personal friend of George Washington's. He named his son George Washington and was France's fiercest supporter of American independence. In 1795, Lafayette was being held as a prisoner of war by the Austrians and had no way to come to the aid of his wife, who was imprisoned in Paris by the radical Jacobin government. It was Elizabeth Monroe who stepped in. I'm Jenna Fisher. And I'm Angela Kinsey. We are best friends. And together we have the podcast Office Ladies, where we rewatched every single episode of The Office with insane

behind-the-scenes stories, hilarious guests, and lots of laughs. Guess who's sitting next to me? Steve! It's my girl in the studio! Every Wednesday, we'll be sharing even more exclusive stories from The Office and our friendship with brand new guests. And we'll be digging into our mailbag to answer your questions and comments. So join us for brand new Office Lady 6.0 episodes every Wednesday. Plus, on Mondays, we are taking a second drink. You can revisit all the Office Ladies rewatch episodes every Monday with new bonus tidbits before every episode. Well, we can't wait to see you there.

Follow and listen to Office Ladies on the free Odyssey app and wherever you get your podcasts. The day before Adrienne Lafayette was scheduled to be beheaded, Elizabeth Monroe climbed into the American Embassy's carriage and rode through the streets to the prison where Adrian was being held. She not only provided comfort to the imprisoned Adrian, she made a clear message. The Americans are watching. Before she left, she loudly announced her plan to return the next day, the morning of the execution.

to return the next day, the morning of the execution. The government took notice, and France, who was already very depleted from years of fighting, could not afford to anger an ally by executing the Marquis de Lafayette's wife. The Lafayette family had been ceremoniously granted U.S. citizenship after the Revolutionary War, and while their status as French citizens took precedence, the government really did not want to be held under the critical eye of America. They played it safe by releasing Adrien Lafayette, and both Americans and Parisians celebrated Elizabeth's bravery. While they were in France, the Monroes also gave safe haven to the English-born American immigrant Thomas Paine in the Paris embassy. Paine had been in prison for a year after he publicly opposed the execution of King Louis XVI.

James Monroe's diplomacy secured Paine's freedom. But this time, the Monroe's involvement came at a cost. Just a smidge bitter that he was being left to sit in prison without help from the U.S. for so long, Paine wrote and published an open letter that accused George Washington of being an elitist. He wrote, Monopolies of every kind marked your administration almost in the moment of its commencement. The lands obtained by the revolution were lavished upon partisans. The interest of the disbanded soldier was sold to the speculator.

In what fraudulent light must Mr. Washington's character appear in the world when his declarations and his conduct are compared together? This is a man accusing George Washington of being a fraud. James Monroe didn't share Thomas Paine's low opinion of Washington, but Congress did decide that he was getting a little too cozy in France after Monroe publicly supported the country during treaty matters. This was in direct contradiction with the strict neutrality policy Washington wanted enforced, and so Washington pulled the plug. He told James to get his butt home. When Monroe was elected governor of Virginia in 1799, Elizabeth Monroe began traveling between the capital city of Richmond and Charlottesville,

where the Monroes had settled on a small plantation called Oak Hill. She gave birth to a son, whom they named James Spence, but the boy died before his second birthday. It was a rough season of life for Elizabeth. She lost her young son, as well as her father, with whom she'd always maintained a close relationship. And when James and Elizabeth left France to return to Virginia, they made the decision to leave their daughter Eliza behind in France to continue her education. Elizabeth began to develop some serious health problems. She had collapsing bouts that were probably what we'd now diagnose as epileptic seizures. They would continue for the rest of her life. And while Elizabeth was an accomplished hostess, perhaps not in the same grand way as her predecessor, Dolly Madison,

she brought a notably elegant flair to her entertaining, which had always been well-received. But Elizabeth's poor health made it necessary for her to get strategic about her public appearances, and she began limiting her social engagements. In 1802, Elizabeth gave birth to her third child, a daughter named Maria. And in 1803, President Jefferson appointed James as the U.S. Minister to Great Britain and Spain. Elizabeth and baby Maria sailed to London with James. The social climate in London was much different than it had been in France. Great Britain was not super happy with the U.S.'s refusal to get involved as an ally between England and France at the time, and London's society snubbed

the Monroes. But Elizabeth had old friends from Paris that she was eager to see, and her oldest daughter Eliza had grown into an accomplished and refined socialite. Eliza had become fast friends with many European women of high social standing, including Napoleon Bonaparte's stepdaughter, who would later become the Queen Consort of Holland. In fact, the Moreau family was invited as guests of honor to witness Napoleon's coronation as the new emperor of France. But Elizabeth was nevertheless relieved when James finished his term as minister and they sailed home. This time they returned to Virginia with both of their daughters by their side. Monroe served as Secretary of State under James Madison for six years between 1811 and 1817,

but he and Elizabeth spent very little social time in Washington, D.C. Oak Hill was in the countryside outside of the capital, and they preferred to use it as their home base, away from the busy center of the city. And while Elizabeth attended official functions with James, she rarely made social appearances and did not reciprocate house calls that were made to her by the wives of other officials. This meant by the time James Monroe took office as president in March of 1817, she had already earned a reputation as a bit of a snob. It sounds harsh, but after Dolly Madison left, the Capitol Society had such high expectations about what it meant to be a First

Lady, and they weren't sure that Elizabeth Monroe was up to the task. And she began her tenure by proving them right. Because the White House was still undergoing renovations after it was burned down by the British in 1814, the public reception that traditionally followed the president's swearing-in ceremony needed to be held somewhere else. Elizabeth agreed to open up their temporary private home to the public, but she did not attend the inauguration, nor did she greet guests when they arrived at the reception. People were not amused. What was her deal? Did she think she was too good for everyone? Yes and no. Elizabeth had been deeply influenced by her time in Europe and held the traditions of the courts

of both England and France in high regard. Her White House dinners were served English style with one servant attending each guest. And in the privacy of their home, the Monroe family spoke only French. Elizabeth was big on formality, which was in direct contrast to the way Dolly had done things. Dolly was a social butterfly who was really an all-in entertainer, whereas Elizabeth was more reserved and highly valued rules and boundaries. And while Elizabeth changed the traditions of the White House to be more formal, her goal with limiting social engagements would have been twofold. One, to establish a more exclusive European-inspired standard, and two, to preserve her health. Her seizures had not subsided, and it must have been extremely stressful for Elizabeth,

wondering if she would have an episode in public. She worked hard to mitigate the chances of that happening. But when Elizabeth refused to engage in the practice of initiating social calls with new legislators' wives, the women of Washington society rebelled against her and complained to their husbands. The new customs and social engagement rules were confusing, and they felt slighted. When Elizabeth did appear at receptions and other events, she took great care to appear youthful and capable, but she was often accompanied and protected by a circle of her female relatives, those who knew her best, her sisters, her daughters, and her nieces. Formally, the Monroe administration did not share any information about Elizabeth's health. It would have been seen as a weakness.

Instead, when Elizabeth had to stay out of the public eye, her daughter Eliza, married by then to Virginia Judge George Hay, stepped in and took on the responsibilities of first lady. Elizabeth relied on Eliza to serve as hostess, and Eliza, well, she too was a bit of a snob. She made no apologies for her attempts to establish a more exclusive social circle in Washington, and they, in return, found her abrasive and rude. When her younger sister Maria got engaged, Eliza set about to make sure the wedding was an elite and private event. It was the first White House wedding. But only 42 personal friends and family members were invited to attend, and the Monroes

asked that officials and diplomats refrain from acknowledging the wedding by sending gifts, like let's pretend this did not happen. Eventually, the put-out Washington society got used to the refrained social style of Elizabeth and Eliza, and the women who proved their devotion to the refrained social style of Elizabeth and Eliza and the women who proved their devotion to the capital city in other ways. Elizabeth was instrumental in choosing new furniture for the White House when its refurbishment was completed. The year before, as she accompanied Dolly Madison on a walk around the grounds of the White House, they spotted large shards of glass in a trench where workers were dumping debris. Hating to see it go to waste, the two women asked workers to retrieve the pieces and store them for

safekeeping. Years later, Elizabeth had the glass put into frames to function as a pair of shaving mirrors. She felt that the two mirrors represented both the new and old eras of the White House. And for all of Eliza Monroe Hayes' outspoken rudeness and apparent snobbery, our friend Margaret Bayard Smith, I mentioned her last week, wrote in her column that Eliza, with great compassion, ignored the threat to her own health by volunteering to care for the sick and suffering Washington residents during a large malaria outbreak. A guest at the Monroe's last presidential social engagement on New Year's Day 1825 described Elizabeth Monroe as regal-looking, saying that her dress was superb black velvet,

her neck and arms bare and beautifully formed, her hair in puffs and dressed high on the head and ornamented with white ostrich plumes. Around her neck, an elegant pearl necklace. Though no longer young, she is still a very handsome woman. By this account, Elizabeth had successfully spent her time as First Lady, keeping up the appearance that she was in good health. But in fact, she was in such poor health that she and James had to remain at the White House for three weeks after his term ended before she felt well enough to travel the short-distance home. Together, they retired to Oak Hill and Elizabeth took time to rest. Unlike the First Ladies before her, she did not continue to entertain guests or attend

public functions. She journeyed only to New York on occasion to visit her youngest daughter Maria and her family. About a year after leaving the White House, Elizabeth suffered a particularly bad seizure and collapsed near an open fireplace. She sustained severe burns and had a very difficult recovery. She died at Oak Hill in 1830 at the age of 62. After her death, James Monroe predicted that he would not live long. He said of his wife, It is a remark which it would be unpardonable to withhold, that it was improbable for any female to have fulfilled all the duties of the partner of such cares, and of a wife and parent with more attention, delicacy,

and propriety than she had done. James Monroe died 10 months later. Before I leave you, I'll give you one more tidbit. Eliza, the Monroe's daughter, as I mentioned, was married to George Hay. And because all roads lead back to Hamilton and Burr, George Hay was the man who served as prosecutor in the trial of Aaron Burr, the treason trial of Aaron Burr. Aaron Burr, as I have mentioned in previous episodes, was never charged for killing Hamilton, but he was put on trial for treason. He was acquitted. I love Elizabeth's story. I love that she saved Adrienne de Lafayette. And her story is not one that's shared very often. I hope you enjoyed getting to know a little bit more about

Elizabeth Monroe. I'll see you soon. Thank you so much for listening to the Sharon Says So podcast. I am truly grateful for you. And I'm wondering if you could do me a quick favor. Would you be willing to follow or subscribe to this podcast or maybe leave me a rating or a review? Or if you're feeling extra generous, would you share this episode on your Instagram stories or with a friend? All of those things help podcasters out so much. This podcast was written and researched by Sharon McMahon and Heather Jackson. It was produced by Heather Jackson, edited and mixed by our audio producer Jenny Snyder, and hosted by me, Sharon McMahon. I'll see you next time.