The Domestic Life of Thomas Jefferson Compiled From Family Letters and Reminiscences
by Sarah N. Randolph · English · Gutenberg #43331 · 948,342 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Domestic Life of Thomas Jefferson Compiled From Family Letters and Reminiscences
Author: Sarah N. Randolph
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Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DOMESTIC LIFE OF THOMAS JEFFERSON COMPILED FROM FAMILY LETTERS AND REMINISCENCES ***
[Illustration: THOMAS JEFFERSON.
_From Portrait by Gilbert Stuart._]
[Illustration: MONTICELLO:--THE WESTERN FRONT.]
THE DOMESTIC LIFE
OF
THOMAS JEFFERSON.
COMPILED FROM
FAMILY LETTERS AND REMINISCENCES,
BY HIS GREAT-GRANDDAUGHTER,
SARAH N. RANDOLPH.
[Illustration: Jefferson's seal]
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1871.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
PREFACE.
I do not in this volume write of Jefferson either as of the great
man or as of the statesman. My object is only to give a faithful
picture of him as he was in private life--to show that he was, as
I have been taught to think of him by those who knew and loved him
best, a beautiful domestic character. With this view I have collected
the reminiscences of him which have been written by his daughter and
grandchildren. From his correspondence, published and unpublished,
I have culled his family letters, and here reproduce them as being
the most faithful witnesses of the warmth of his affections, the
elevation of his character, and the scrupulous fidelity with which he
discharged the duties of every relation in life.
I am well aware that the tale of Jefferson's life, both public and
private, has been well told by the most faithful of biographers in
"Randall's Life of Jefferson," and that much of what is contained in
these pages will be found in that admirable work, which, from the
author's zealous devotion to truth, and his indefatigable industry
in collecting his materials, must ever stand chief among the most
valuable contributions to American history. I propose, however, to
give a sketch of Jefferson's private life in a briefer form than it
can be found in either the thirteen volumes of the two editions of
his published correspondence, or in the three stout octavo volumes of
his Life by Randall. To give a bird's-eye view of his whole career,
and to preserve unbroken the thread of this narrative, I quote freely
from his Memoir, and from such of his letters as cast any light upon
the subject, filling up the blanks with my own pen.
Jefferson's executor having a few months ago recovered from the
United States Government his family letters and private papers, which
had been exempted from the sale of his public manuscripts, I am
enabled to give in these pages many interesting letters never before
published.
No man's private character has been more foully assailed than
Jefferson's, and none so wantonly exposed to the public gaze, nor
more fully vindicated. I shall be more than rewarded for my labors
should I succeed in imparting to my readers a tithe of that esteem
and veneration which I have been taught to feel for him by the person
with whom he was most intimate during life--the grandson who, as a
boy, played upon his knee, and, as a man, was, as he himself spoke of
him, "the staff" of his old age.
The portrait of Jefferson is from a painting by Gilbert Stuart, in
the possession of his family, and by them considered as the best
likeness of him. The portrait of his daughter, Martha Jefferson
Randolph, is from a painting by Sully. The view of Monticello
represents the home of Jefferson as it existed during his lifetime,
and not as it now is--a ruin.
THE AUTHOR.
JUNE, 1871.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Jefferson's Birthplace.--Sketch of his early Life.--Character
of his Parents.--His Grandfather, Isham Randolph.--Peter
Jefferson's Friendship for William Randolph.--Randolph dies,
and leaves his young Son to the Guardianship of Jefferson.--
His faithful Discharge of the Trust.--Thomas Jefferson's
earliest Recollections.--His Father's Hospitality.--First
Acquaintance with Indians.--Life of the early Settlers of
Virginia: its Ease and Leisure.--Expense of Thomas Jefferson's
early Education.--Death of his Father.--Perils of his
Situation.--Letter to his Guardian.--Goes to William and
Mary College.--Extract from his Memoir.--Sketch of
Fauquier.--Of Wythe Page 17
CHAPTER II.
Intense Application as a Student.--Habits of Study kept up
during his Vacations.--First Preparations made for Building
at Monticello.--Letters to his College Friend, John Page.--
Anecdote of Benjamin Harrison.--Jefferson's Devotion to his
eldest Sister.--He witnesses the Debate on the Stamp
Act.--First Meeting with Patrick Henry.--His Opinion of
him.--His superior Education.--Always a Student.--Wide Range
of Information.--Anecdote.--Death of his eldest Sister.--His
Grief.--Buries himself in his Books.--Finishes his Course of
Law Studies.--Begins to practise.--Collection of Vocabularies
of Indian Languages.--House at Shadwell burnt.--Loss of his
Library.--Marriage.--Anecdote of his Courtship.--Wife's
Beauty.--Bright Prospects.--Friendship for Dabney Carr.--His
Talents.--His Death.--Jefferson buries him at Monticello.--His
Epitaph 31
CHAPTER III.
Happy Life at Monticello.--Jefferson's fine Horsemanship.--Birth
of his oldest Child.--Goes to Congress.--Death of his Mother.--
Kindness to British Prisoners.--Their Gratitude.--His Devotion to
Music.--Letter to General de Riedesel.--Is made Governor of
Virginia.--Tarleton pursues Lafayette.--Reaches Charlottesville.--
The British at Monticello.--Cornwallis's Destruction of Property
at Elk Hill.--Jefferson retires at the End of his Second Term as
Governor.--Mrs. Jefferson's delicate Health.--Jefferson meets with
an Accident.--Writes his Notes on Virginia.--The Marquis de
Chastellux visits Monticello.--His Description of it.--Letter of
Congratulation from Jefferson to Washington.--Mrs. Jefferson's
Illness and Death.--Her Daughter's Description of the Scene.--
Jefferson's Grief 48
CHAPTER IV.
Visit to Chesterfield County.--Is appointed Plenipotentiary to
Europe.--Letter to the Marquis de Chastellux.--Goes North with
his Daughter.--Leaves her in Philadelphia, and goes to
Congress.--Letters to his Daughter.--Sails for Europe.--His
Daughter's Description of the Voyage.--His Establishment and
Life in Paris.--Succeeds Franklin as Minister there.--Anecdotes
of Franklin.--Extracts from Mrs. Adams's Letters.--Note from
Jefferson to Mrs. Smith 67
CHAPTER V.
Jefferson's first Impressions of Europe.--Letter to Mrs.
Trist.--To Baron De Geismer.--He visits England.--Letter to
his Daughter.--To his Sister.--Extract from his Journal kept
when in England.--Letter to John Page.--Presents a Bust of
Lafayette to chief Functionaries of Paris.--Breaks his
Wrist.--Letter to Mrs. Trist.--Mr. and Mrs. Cosway.--
Correspondence with Mrs. Cosway.--Letter to Colonel
Carrington.--To Mr. Madison.--To Mrs. Bingham.--Her Reply 79
CHAPTER VI.
Death of Count de Vergennes.--Jefferson is ordered to Aix by
his Surgeon.--Death of his youngest Child.--Anxiety to have
his Daughter Mary with him.--Her Reluctance to leave
Virginia.--Her Letters to and from her Father.--Jefferson's
Letters to Mrs. and Mr. Eppes.--To Lafayette.--To the Countess
de Tesse.--To Lafayette.--Correspondence with his Daughter
Martha 101
CHAPTER VII.
Increased Anxiety about his youngest Daughter.--Her Aunt's
Letter.--She arrives in England.--Mrs. Adams receives her.--
Letter to Mrs. Eppes.--To Madame de Corny.--To J. Bannister.--
To his Sister.--Letter to Mr. Jay.--To Madame de Brehan.--To
Madame de Corny.--Weariness of Public Life.--Goes to
Amsterdam.--Letter to Mr. Jay.--To Mr. Izard.--To Mrs. Marks.--
To Mr. Marks.--To Randolph Jefferson.--To Mrs. Eppes 124
CHAPTER VIII.
Jefferson asks for leave of Absence.--Character of the Prince
of Wales.--Letters to Madame de Brehan.--Fondness for Natural
History.--Anecdote told by Webster.--Jefferson's Opinion of
Chemistry.--Letter to Professor Willard.--Martha Jefferson.--She
wishes to enter a Convent.--Her Father takes her Home.--He is
impatient to return to Virginia.--Letter to Washington.--To Mrs.
Eppes.--Receives leave of Absence.--Farewell to France.--
Jefferson as an Ambassador.--He leaves Paris.--His Daughter's
Account of the Voyage, and Arrival at Home.--His Reception by
his Slaves 139
CHAPTER IX.
Letters on the French Revolution 154
CHAPTER X.
Washington nominates Jefferson as Secretary of State.--
Jefferson's Regret.--Devotion of Southern Statesmen to Country
Life.--Letter to Washington.--Jefferson accepts the
Appointment.--Marriage of his Daughter.--He leaves for New
York.--Last Interview with Franklin.--Letters to Son-in-law.--
Letters of Adieu to Friends in Paris.--Family Letters. 169
CHAPTER XI.
Jefferson goes with the President to Rhode Island.--Visits
Monticello.--Letter to Mrs. Eppes.--Goes to Philadelphia.--
Family Letters.--Letter to Washington.--Goes to Monticello.--
Letters to his Daughter.--His Ana.--Letters to his Daughter.--
To General Washington.--To Lafayette.--To his Daughter 189
CHAPTER XII.
Anonymous Attacks on Jefferson.--Washington's Letter to him.--
His Reply.--Letter to Edmund Randolph.--Returns to
Philadelphia.--Washington urges him to remain in his
Cabinet.--Letters to his Daughter.--To his Son-in-law.--To
his Brother-in-law.--Sends his Resignation to the President.--
Fever in Philadelphia.--Weariness of Public Life.--Letters
to his Daughters.--To Mrs. Church.--To his Daughter.--Visits
Monticello.--Returns to Philadelphia.--Letter to Madison.--To
Mrs. Church.--To his Daughters.--Interview with Genet.--Letter
to Washington.--His Reply.--Jefferson returns to Monticello.--
State of his Affairs, and Extent of his Possessions.--Letter to
Washington.--To Mr. Adams.--Washington attempts to get
Jefferson back in his Cabinet.--Letter to Edmund Randolph,
declining.--Pleasures of his Life at Monticello.--Letter to
Madison.--To Giles.--To Rutledge.--To young Lafayette 213
CHAPTER XIII.
Description of Monticello and Jefferson by the Duc de la
Rochefoucauld-Liancourt.--Nominated Vice-President.--Letter
to Madison.--To Adams.--Preference for the Office of
Vice-President.--Sets out for Philadelphia.--Reception
there.--Returns to Monticello.--Letters to his Daughter.--Goes
to Philadelphia.--Letter to Rutledge.--Family Letters.--To
Miss Church.--To Mrs. Church 235
CHAPTER XIV.
Jefferson goes to Philadelphia.--Letters to his Daughters.--
Returns to Monticello.--Letters to his Daughter.--Goes back
to Philadelphia.--Family Letters.--Letters to Mrs. and Miss
Church.--Bonaparte.--Letters to his Daughters.--Is nominated
as President.--Seat of Government moved to Washington.--Spends
the Summer at Monticello.--Letters to his Daughter.--Jefferson
denounced by the New England Pulpit.--Letter to Uriah Gregory.--
Goes to Washington 254
CHAPTER XV.
Results of Presidential Election.--Letter to his Daughter.--
Balloting for President.--Letter to his Daughter.--Is
inaugurated.--Returns to Monticelllo.--Letters to his
Daughter.--Goes back to Washington.--Inaugurates the Custom
of sending a written Message to Congress.--Abolishes Levees.--
Letter to Story.--To Dickinson.--Letter from Mrs. Cosway.--
Family Letters.--Makes a short Visit to Monticello.--
Jefferson's Sixtieth Year 271
CHAPTER XVI.
Returns to Washington.--Letters to his Daughters.--Meets with
a Stranger in his daily Ride.--Letters to his Daughter.--To
his young Grandson.--To his Daughter, Mrs. Randolph.--Last
Letters to his Daughter, Mrs. Eppes.--Her Illness.--Letter to
Mr. Eppes.--Goes to Monticello.--Death of Mrs. Eppes.--Account
of it by a Niece.--Her Reminiscences of Mary Jefferson Eppes.--
Letter to Page.--To Tyler.--From Mrs. Adams.--Mr. Jefferson's
Reply.--Midnight Judges.--Letters to his Son-in-law 288
CHAPTER XVII.
Renominated as President.--Letter to Mazzei.--Slanders against
Jefferson.--Sad Visit to Monticello.--Second Inauguration.--
Receives the Bust of the Emperor of Russia.--Letters to and
from the Emperor.--To Diodati.--To Dickinson.--To his
Son-in-law.--Devotion to his Grandchildren.--Letter to
Monroe.--To his Grandchildren.--His Temper when roused.--Letter
to Charles Thompson.--To Dr. Logan.--Anxious to avoid a Public
Reception on his Return home.--Letter to Dupont de Nemours.--
Inauguration of Madison.--Harmony in Jefferson's Cabinet.--Letter
to Humboldt.--Farewell Address from the Legislature of
Virginia.--His Reply.--Reply to an Address of Welcome from
the Citizens of Albemarle.--Letter to Madison.--Anecdote of
Jefferson.--Dr. Stuart says he is quarelling with the Almighty 310
CHAPTER XVIII.
His final Return home.--Wreck of his Fortunes.--Letter to Mr.
Eppes.--To his Grand-daughter, Mrs. Bankhead.--To
Kosciusko.--Description of the Interior of the House at
Monticello.--Of the View from Monticello.--Jefferson's
Grandson's Description of his Manners and Appearance.--
Anecdotes.--His Habits.--Letter to Governor Langdon.--To
Governor Tyler.--Life at Monticello.--Jefferson's Studies
and Occupations.--Sketch of Jefferson by a Grand-daughter.--
Reminiscences of him by another Grand-daughter 329
CHAPTER XIX.
Letter to his Grand-daughter, Mrs. Bankhead.--To Dr. Rush.--
To Duane.--Anxiety to reopen Correspondence with John Adams.--
Letter to Benjamin Rush.--Old Letter from Mrs. Adams.--Letter
from Benjamin Rush.--Letter from John Adams.--The
Reconciliation.--Character of Washington.--Devotion to
him.--Letter to Say.--State of Health.--Labors of
Correspondence.--Cheerfulness of his Disposition.--Baron
Grimour.--Catherine of Russia.--Ledyard.--Letter to Mrs.
Trist.--To John Adams.--Gives Charge of his Affairs to his
Grandson.--Letter to his Grandson, Francis Eppes.--Description
of Monticello by Lieutenant Hall.--Letter to Mrs. Adams.--Her
Death.--Beautiful Letter to Mr. Adams.--Letter to Dr. Utley.--
Correspondence with Mrs. Cosway.--Tidings from Old French
Friends 349
CHAPTER XX.
Letters to John Adams.--Number of Letters written and
received.--To John Adams.--Breaks his Arm.--Letter to Judge
Johnson.--To Lafayette.--The University of Virginia.--Anxiety
to have Southern Young Men educated at the South.--Letters on
the Subject.--Lafayette's Visit to America.--His Meeting with
Jefferson.--Daniel Webster's Visit to Monticello, and
Description of Mr. Jefferson 378
CHAPTER XXI.
Pecuniary Embarrassments.--Letter from a Grand-daughter.--Dr.
Dunglison's Memoranda.--Sells his Library.--Depressed
Condition of the Money Market.--Disastrous Consequences to
Jefferson.--His Grandson's Devotion and Efforts to relieve
him.--Mental Sufferings of Mr. Jefferson.--Plan of Lottery to
sell his Property.--Hesitation of Virginia Legislature to grant
his Request.--Sad Letter to Madison.--Correspondence with
Cabell.--Extract from a Letter to his Grandson, to Cabell.--
Beautiful Letter to his Grandson.--Distress at the Death of his
Grand-daughter.--Dr. Dunglison's Memoranda.--Meeting in
Richmond.--In Nelson County.--New York, Philadelphia, and
Baltimore come to his Relief.--His Gratitude.--Unconscious
that at his Death Sales of his Property would fail to pay his
Debts.--Deficit made up by his Grandson.--His Daughter left
penniless.--Generosity of Louisiana and South Carolina 397
CHAPTER XXII.
Letter to Namesake.--To John Adams.--Declining Health.--Dr.
Dunglison's Memoranda.--Tenderness to his Family.--Accounts
of his Death by Dr. Dunglison and Colonel Randolph.--Farewell
to his Daughter.--Directions for a Tombstone.--It is erected
by his Grandson.--Shameful Desecration of Tombstones at
Monticello 419
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
THOMAS JEFFERSON (From Portrait by Stuart) } _In Front._
MONTICELLO (The Western View) }
JEFFERSON'S SEAL _Title-Page._
JEFFERSON'S COAT OF ARMS _On Cover._
JEFFERSON'S MARRIAGE LICENSE-BOND (Fac-simile) 42
PART OF DRAFT OF DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE (Fac-simile) 52
MARTHA JEFFERSON RANDOLPH (From Portrait by Sully) 65
JEFFERSON'S HORSE-CHAIR (Still preserved at Monticello) 289
MONTICELLO (Plan of the First Floor) 334
THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA (In 1850) 386
JEFFERSON'S GRAVE (Near Monticello) 432
THE
DOMESTIC LIFE OF JEFFERSON.
CHAPTER I.
Jefferson's Birthplace.--Sketch of his early Life.--Character
of his Parents.--His Grandfather, Isham Randolph.--Peter
Jefferson's Friendship for William Randolph.--Randolph dies,
and leaves his young Son to the Guardianship of Jefferson.--His
faithful Discharge of the Trust.--Thomas Jefferson's earliest
Recollections.--His Father's Hospitality.--First Acquaintance
with Indians.--Life of the early Settlers of Virginia: its Ease
and Leisure.--Expense of Thomas Jefferson's early Education.--
Death of his Father.--Perils of his Situation.--Letter to his
Guardian.--Goes to William and Mary College.--Extract from his
Memoir.--Sketch of Fauquier.--Of Wythe.
On a long, gently sloping hill five miles east of Charlottesville,
Virginia, the traveller, passing along the county road of Albemarle,
has pointed out to him the spot where Thomas Jefferson was born,
April 13th, 1743. A few aged locust-trees are still left to mark the
place, and two or three sycamores stretch out their long majestic
arms over the greensward beneath, once the scene of young Jefferson's
boyish games, but now a silent pasture, where cattle and sheep
browse, undisturbed by the proximity of any dwelling. The trees are
all that are left of an avenue planted by him on his twenty-first
birthday, and, as such, are objects of peculiar interest to those who
love to dwell upon the associations of the past.
The situation is one well suited for a family mansion--offering from
its site a landscape view rarely surpassed. To the south are seen
the picturesque valley and banks of the Rivanna, with an extensive,
peaceful-looking horizon view, lying like a sleeping beauty, in the
east; while long rolling hills, occasionally rising into mountain
ranges until at last they are all lost in the gracefully-sweeping
profile of the Blue Ridge, stretch westward, and the thickly-wooded
Southwest Mountains, with the highly-cultivated fields and valleys
intervening, close the scene on the north, and present landscapes
whose exquisite enchantment must ever charm the beholder.
A brief sketch of Jefferson's family and early life is given in the
following quotation from his Memoir, written by himself:
_January 6, 1821._--At the age of 77, I begin to make some
memoranda, and state some recollections of dates and facts
concerning myself, for my own more ready reference, and for the
information of my family.
The tradition in my father's family was, that their ancestor
came to this country from Wales, and from near the mountain of
Snowden, the highest in Great Britain. I noted once a case from
Wales in the law reports, where a person of our name was either
plaintiff or defendant; and one of the same name was Secretary
to the Virginia Company. These are the only instances in which I
have met with the name in that country. I have found it in our
early records; but the first particular information I have of
any ancestor was of my grandfather, who lived at the place in
Chesterfield called Osborne's, and owned the lands afterwards
the glebe of the parish. He had three sons: Thomas, who died
young; Field, who settled on the waters of the Roanoke, and
left numerous descendants; and Peter, my father, who settled on
the lands I still own, called Shadwell, adjoining my present
residence. He was born February 29th, 1708, and intermarried
1739 with Jane Randolph, of the age of 19, daughter of Isham
Randolph, one of the seven sons of that name and family settled
at Dungeness, in Goochland. They trace their pedigree far back
in England and Scotland, to which let every one ascribe the
faith and merit he chooses.
My father's education had been quite neglected; but being of a
strong mind, sound judgment, and eager after information, he
read much, and improved himself; insomuch that he was chosen,
with Joshua Fry, Professor of Mathematics in William and
Mary College, to run the boundary-line between Virginia and
North Carolina, which had been begun by Colonel Byrd, and was
afterwards employed with the same Mr. Fry to make the first map
of Virginia which had ever been made, that of Captain Smith
being merely a conjectural sketch. They possessed excellent
materials for so much of the country as is below the Blue Ridge,
little being then known beyond that ridge. He was the third or
fourth settler, about the year 1737, of the part of the country
in which I live. He died August 17th, 1757, leaving my mother
a widow, who lived till 1776, with six daughters and two sons,
myself the elder.
To my younger brother he left his estate on James River, called
Snowden, after the supposed birthplace of the family; to myself,
the lands on which I was born and live. He placed me at the
English school at five years of age, and at the Latin at nine,
where I continued until his death. My teacher, Mr. Douglas, a
clergyman from Scotland, with the rudiments of the Latin and
Greek languages, taught me the French; and on the death of
my father I went to the Rev. Mr. Maury, a correct classical
scholar, with whom I continued two years.
The talents of great men are frequently said to be derived from the
mother. If they are inheritable, Jefferson was entitled to them on
both the paternal and maternal side. His father was a man of most
extraordinary vigor, both of mind and body. His son never wearied of
dwelling with all the pride of filial devotion and admiration on the
noble traits of his character. To the regular duties of his vocation
as a land-surveyor (which, it will be remembered, was the profession
of Washington also) were added those of county surveyor, colonel of
the militia, and member of the House of Burgesses.
Family tradition has preserved several incidents of the survey of the
boundary-line between Virginia and North Carolina, which prove him to
have been a man of remarkable powers of endurance, untiring energy,
and indomitable courage. The perils and toils of running that line
across the Blue Ridge were almost incredible, and were not surpassed
by those encountered by Colonel Byrd and his party in forcing the
same line through the forests and marshes of the Dismal Swamp in the
year 1728. On this expedition Colonel Jefferson and his companions
had often to defend themselves against the attacks of wild beasts
during the day, and at night found but a broken rest, sleeping--as
they were obliged to do for safety--in trees. At length their supply
of provisions began to run low, and his comrades, overcome by hunger
and exhaustion, fell fainting beside him. Amid all these hardships
and difficulties, Jefferson's courage did not once flag, but living
upon raw flesh, or whatever could be found to sustain life, he
pressed on and persevered until his task was accomplished.
So great was his physical strength, that when standing between two
hogsheads of tobacco lying on their sides, he could raise or "head"
them both up at once. Perhaps it was because he himself rejoiced in
such gigantic strength that it was his frequent remark that "it is
the strong in body who are both the strong and free in mind." This,
too, made him careful to have his young son early instructed in
all the manly sports and exercises of his day; so that while still
a school-boy he was a good rider, a good swimmer, and an ardent
sportsman, spending hours and days wandering in pursuit of game along
the sides of the beautiful Southwest Mountains--thus strengthening
his body and his health, which must otherwise have given way under
the intense application to study to which he soon afterwards devoted
himself.
The Jeffersons were among the earliest immigrants to the colony,
and we find the name in the list of the twenty-two members who
composed the Assembly that met in Jamestown in the year 1619--the
first legislative body that was ever convened in America.[1] Colonel
Jefferson's father-in-law, Isham Randolph, of Dungeness, was a man of
considerable eminence in the colony, whose name associated itself in
his day with all that was good and wise. In the year 1717 he married,
in London, Jane Rogers. Possessing the polished and courteous
manners of a gentleman of the colonial days, with a well-cultivated
intellect, and a heart in which every thing that is noble and true
was instinctive, he charmed and endeared himself to all who were
thrown into his society. He devoted much time to the study of
science; and we find the following mention of him in a quaint letter
from Peter Collinson, of London, to Bartram, the naturalist, then on
the eve of visiting Virginia to study her flora:
When thee proceeds home, I know no person who will make thee
more welcome than Isham Randolph. He lives thirty or forty
miles above the falls of James River, in Goochland, above the
other settlements. Now, I take his house to be a very suitable
place to make a settlement at, for to take several days'
excursions all round, and to return to his house at night....
One thing I must desire of thee, and do insist that thee must
oblige me therein: that thou make up that drugget clothes, to
go to Virginia in, and not appear to disgrace thyself or me;
for though I should not esteem thee the less to come to me in
what dress thou wilt, yet these Virginians are a very gentle,
well-dressed people, and look, perhaps, more at a man's outside
than his inside. For these and other reasons, pray go very
clean, neat, and handsomely-dressed to Virginia. Never mind thy
clothes; I will send thee more another year.
[1] The Jeffersons first emigrated to Virginia in 1612.
In reply to Bartram's account of the kind welcome which he received
from Isham Randolph, he writes: "As for my friend Isham, who I am
also personally known to, I did not doubt his civility to thee. I
only wish I had been there and shared it with thee." Again, after
Randolph's death, he writes to Bartram that "the good man is gone to
his long home, and, I doubt not, is happy."
Such was Jefferson's maternal grandfather. His mother, from whom he
inherited his cheerful and hopeful temper and disposition, was a
woman of a clear and strong understanding, and, in every respect,
worthy of the love of such a man as Peter Jefferson.
Isham Randolph's nephew, Colonel William Randolph, of Tuckahoe, was
Peter Jefferson's most intimate friend. A pleasing incident preserved
in the family records proves how warm and generous their friendship
was. Two or three days before Jefferson took out a patent for a
thousand acres of land on the Rivanna River, Randolph had taken out
one for twenty-four hundred acres adjoining. Jefferson, not finding a
good site for a house on his land, his friend sold him four hundred
acres of his tract, the price paid for these four hundred acres
being, as the deed still in the possession of the family proves,
"Henry Weatherbourne's biggest bowl of arrack punch."
Colonel Jefferson called his estate "Shadwell," after the parish
in England where his wife was born, while Randolph's was named
"Edgehill," in honor of the field on which the Cavaliers and
Roundheads first crossed swords. By an intermarriage between their
grandchildren, these two estates passed into the possession of
descendants common to them both, in whose hands they have been
preserved down to the present day.
On the four hundred acres thus added by Jefferson to his original
patent, he erected a plain weather-boarded house, to which he took
his young bride immediately after his marriage, and where they
remained until the death of Colonel William Randolph, of Tuckahoe, in
1745.
It was the dying request of Colonel Randolph, that his friend
Peter Jefferson should undertake the management of his estates and
the guardianship of his young son, Thomas Mann Randolph. Being
unable to fulfill this request while living at Shadwell, Colonel
Jefferson removed his family to Tuckahoe, and remained there seven
years, sacredly guarding, like a Knight of the Round Table, the
solemn charge intrusted to him, without any other reward than the
satisfaction of fully keeping the promise made to his dying friend.
That he refused to receive any other compensation for his services
as guardian is not only proved by the frequent assertion of his son
in after years, but by his accounts as executor, which have ever
remained unchallenged.[2]
[2] In spite of these facts, however, some of Randolph's
descendants, with more arrogance than gratitude, speak of Colonel
Jefferson as being a paid agent of their ancestor.
Thomas Jefferson was not more than two years old when his father
moved to Tuckahoe, yet he often declared that his earliest
recollection in life was of being, on that occasion, handed up to a
servant on horseback, by whom he was carried on a pillow for a long
distance. He also remembered that later, when five years old, he
one day became impatient for his school to be out, and, going out,
knelt behind the house, and there repeated the Lord's Prayer, hoping
thereby to hurry up the desired hour.
Colonel Jefferson's house at Shadwell was near the public highway,
and in those days of primitive hospitality was the stopping-place for
all passers-by, and, in the true spirit of Old Virginia hospitality,
was thrown open to every guest. Here, too, the great Indian Chiefs
stopped, on their journeys to and from the colonial capital, and
it was thus that young Jefferson first became acquainted with and
interested in them and their people. More than half a century later
we find him writing to John Adams:
I know much of the great Ontasseté, the warrior and orator of
the Cherokees; he was always the guest of my father on his
journeys to and from Williamsburg. I was in his camp when he
made his great farewell oration to his people, the evening
before his departure for England. The moon was in full splendor,
and to her he seemed to address himself in his prayers for his
own safety on the voyage, and that of his people during his
absence; his sounding voice, distinct articulation, animated
action, and the solemn silence of his people at their several
fires, filled me with awe and veneration.
The lives led by our forefathers were certainly filled with ease
and leisure. One of Thomas Jefferson's grandsons asked him, on one
occasion, how the men of his father's day spent their time. He
smiled, and, in reply, said, "My father had a devoted friend, to
whose house he would go, dine, spend the night, dine with him again
on the second day, and return to Shadwell in the evening. His friend,
in the course of a day or two, returned the visit, and spent the same
length of time at his house. This occurred once every week; and thus,
you see, they were together four days out of the seven."
This is, perhaps, a fair picture of the ease and leisure of the life
of an old Virginian, and to the causes which produced this style of
life was due, also, the great hospitality for which Virginians have
ever been so renowned. The process of farming was then so simple
that the labor and cultivation of an estate were easily and most
profitably carried on by an overseer and the slaves, the master only
riding occasionally over his plantation to see that his general
orders were executed.
In the school of such a life, however, were reared and developed the
characters of the men who rose to such eminence in the struggles of
the Revolution, and who, as giants in intellect and virtue, must
ever be a prominent group among the great historical characters of
the world. Their devotion to the chase, to horsemanship, and to all
the manly sports of the day, and the perils and adventures to be
encountered in a new country, developed their physical strength,
and inspired them with that bold and dashing spirit which still
characterizes their descendants, while the leisure of their lives
gave them time to devote to study and reflection.
The city of Williamsburg, being the capital of the colony and the
residence of the governor, was the seat of intelligence, refinement,
and elegance, and offered every advantage for social intercourse.
There it was that those graceful manners were formed which made
men belonging to the old colonial school so celebrated for the
cordial ease and courtesy of their address. As there were no large
towns in the colony, the inducements and temptations offered for
the accumulation of wealth were few, while the abundance of the
good things of the earth found on his own plantation rendered the
Virginian lavish in his expenditures, and hence his unbounded
hospitality. Of this we have ample proof in the accounts which have
been handed down to us of their mode of life. Thomas Mann Randolph,
of Tuckahoe, it is said, consumed annually a thousand barrels of
corn at his family stable; while the princely abode of Colonel Byrd,
of Westover, with its offices, covered a space of two acres. The
prices of corn were what seem to us now fabulously low. The old
chroniclers tell us that one year the price rose to the enormous sum
of thirty-three cents a bushel, and that year was ever after known as
the "ten-shilling year"--ten shillings being the price per barrel.
In looking over Colonel Peter Jefferson's account-books, one can not
refrain from smiling to see the small amount paid for his young son's
school education. To the Rev. William Douglas he paid sixteen pounds
sterling per annum for his board and tuition, and Mr. Maury received
for the same twenty pounds. Colonel Jefferson's eagerness for
information was inherited to an extraordinary degree by his son, who
early evinced that thirst for knowledge which he preserved to the day
of his death. He made rapid progress in his studies, and soon became
a proficient in mathematics and the classics. In after years he used
often to say, that had he to decide between the pleasure derived from
the classical education which his father had given him and the estate
he had left him, he would decide in favor of the former.
Jefferson's father died, as we have seen, when he was only fourteen
years old. The perils and wants of his situation, deprived as he was
so early in life of the guidance and influence of such a father,
were very touchingly described by him years afterwards, in a letter
written to his eldest grandson,[3] when the latter was sent from
home to school for the first time. He writes:
When I recollect that at fourteen years of age the whole
care and direction of myself was thrown on myself entirely,
without a relative or friend qualified to advise or guide me,
and recollect the various sorts of bad company with which I
associated from time to time, I am astonished that I did not
turn off with some of them, and become as worthless to society
as they were. I had the good-fortune to become acquainted very
early with some characters of very high standing, and to feel
the incessant wish that I could ever become what they were.
Under temptations and difficulties, I would ask myself--What
would Dr. Small, Mr. Wythe, Peyton Randolph, do in this
situation? What course in it will insure me their approbation? I
am certain that this mode of deciding on my conduct tended more
to correctness than any reasoning powers I possessed. Knowing
the even and dignified lives they pursued, I could never doubt
for a moment which of two courses would be in character for
them; whereas, seeking the same object through a process of
moral reasoning, and with the jaundiced eye of youth, I should
often have erred. From the circumstances of my position, I was
often thrown into the society of horse-racers, card-players,
fox-hunters, scientific and professional men, and of dignified
men; and many a time have I asked myself, in the enthusiastic
moment of the death of a fox, the victory of a favorite horse,
the issue of a question eloquently argued at the bar, or in
the great council of the nation, Well, which of these kinds
of reputation should I prefer--that of a horse-jockey, a
fox-hunter, an orator, or the honest advocate of my country's
rights? Be assured, my dear Jefferson, that these little returns
into ourselves, this self-catechising habit, is not trifling nor
useless, but leads to the prudent selection and steady pursuit
of what is right.
[3] Thomas Jefferson Randolph.
After leaving Mr. Maury's school, we find him writing the following
letter to a gentleman who was at the time his guardian. It was
written when he was seventeen years old, and is the earliest
production which we have from his pen:
Shadwell, January 14th, 1760.
Sir--I was at Colo. Peter Randolph's about a fortnight ago, and
my Schooling falling into Discourse, he said he thought it
would be to my Advantage to go to the College, and was desirous
I should go, as indeed I am myself for several Reasons. In the
first place as long as I stay at the Mountain, the loss of one
fourth of my Time is inevitable, by Company's coming here and
detaining me from School. And likewise my Absence will in a
great measure, put a Stop to so much Company, and by that Means
lessen the Expenses of the Estate in House-keeping. And on the
other Hand by going to the College, I shall get a more universal
Acquaintance, which may hereafter be serviceable to me; and I
suppose I can pursue my Studies in the Greek and Latin as well
there as here, and likewise learn something of the Mathematics.
I shall be glad of your opinion, and remain, Sir, your most
humble servant,
THOMAS JEFFERSON JR:
To Mr. John Hervey, at Bellemont.
We find no traces, in the above school-boy's letter, of the graceful
pen which afterwards won for its author so high a rank among the
letter-writers of his own, or, indeed, of any day.
It was decided that he should go to William and Mary College, and
thither he accordingly went, in the year 1760. We again quote from
his Memoir, to give a glance at this period of his life:
It was my great good-fortune, and what, perhaps, fixed the
destinies of my life, that Dr. William Small, of Scotland,
was the Professor of Mathematics, a man profound in most
of the useful branches of science, with a happy talent of
communication, correct and gentlemanly manners, and an enlarged
and liberal mind. He, most happily for me, became soon attached
to me, and made me his daily companion, when not engaged in the
school; and from his conversation I got my first views of the
expansion of science, and of the system of things in which we
are placed. Fortunately, the philosophical chair became vacant
soon after my arrival at college, and he was appointed to fill
it _per interim_; and he was the first who ever gave, in that
college, regular lectures in Ethics, Rhetoric, and Belles
Lettres. He returned to Europe in 1762, having previously filled
up the measure of his goodness to me, by procuring for me,
from his most intimate friend, George Wythe, a reception as a
student of law under his direction, and introduced me to the
acquaintance and familiar table of Governor Fauquier, the ablest
man who had ever filled that office. With him and at his table,
Dr. Small and Mr. Wythe, his _amici omnium horarum_, and myself
formed a _partie quarrée_, and to the habitual conversations on
these occasions I owed much instruction. Mr. Wythe continued
to be my faithful and beloved mentor in youth, and my most
affectionate friend through life.
There must indeed have been some very great charm and attraction
about the young student of seventeen, to have won for him the
friendship and esteem of such a profound scholar as Small, and a seat
at the family table of the elegant and accomplished Fauquier.
We have just quoted Jefferson's finely-drawn character of Small, and
give now the following brilliant but sad picture, as drawn by the
Virginia historian, Burke, of the able and generous Fauquier, and of
the vices which he introduced into the colony:
With some allowance, he was every thing that could have been
wished for by Virginia under a royal government. Generous,
liberal, elegant in his manners and acquirements; his example
left an impression of taste, refinement and erudition on the
character of the colony, which eminently contributed to its
present high reputation in the arts. It is stated, on evidence
sufficiently authentic, that on the return of Anson from his
circumnavigation of the earth, he accidentally fell in with
Fauquier, from whom, in a single night's play, he won at cards
the whole of his patrimony; that afterwards, being captivated by
the striking graces of this gentleman's person and conversation,
he procured for him the government of Virginia. Unreclaimed by
the former subversion of his fortune, he introduced the same
fatal propensity to gaming into Virginia; and the example of
so many virtues and accomplishments, alloyed but by a single
vice, was but too successful in extending the influence of
this pernicious and ruinous practice. He found among the
people of his new government a character compounded of the
same elements as his own; and he found little difficulty in
rendering fashionable a practice which had, before his arrival,
already prevailed to an alarming extent. During the recess of
the courts of judicature and of the assemblies, he visited the
most distinguished landholders of the colonies, and the rage of
playing deep, reckless of time, health or money, spread like a
contagion among a class proverbial for their hospitality, their
politeness and fondness for expense. In every thing besides,
Fauquier was the ornament and the delight of Virginia.
Happy it was for young Jefferson, that "the example of so many
virtues and accomplishments" in this brave gentleman failed to give
any attraction, for him at least, to the vice which was such a blot
on Fauquier's fine character. Jefferson never knew one card from
another, and never allowed the game to be played in his own house.
Turning from the picture of the gifted but dissipated royal Governor,
it is a relief to glance at the character given by Jefferson of the
equally gifted but pure and virtuous George Wythe. We can not refrain
from giving the conclusion of his sketch of Wythe, completing, as it
does, the picture of the "_partie quarrée_" which so often met at the
Governor's hospitable board:
No man ever left behind him a character more venerated than
George Wythe. His virtue was of the purest tint; his integrity
inflexible, and his justice exact; of warm patriotism, and,
devoted as he was to liberty, and the natural and equal rights
of man, he might truly be called the Cato of his country,
without the avarice of the Roman; for a more disinterested
man never lived. Temperance and regularity in all his habits
gave him general good health, and his unaffected modesty and
suavity of manners endeared him to every one. He was of easy
elocution; his language chaste, methodical in the arrangement
of his matter, learned and logical in the use of it, and of
great urbanity in debate; not quick of apprehension, but, with a
little time, profound in penetration and sound in conclusion. In
his philosophy he was firm; and neither troubling, nor, perhaps,
trusting, any one with his religious creed, he left the world
to the conclusion that that religion must be good which could
produce a life of such exemplary virtue. His stature was of the
middle size, well formed and proportioned, and the features
of his face were manly, comely, and engaging. Such was George
Wythe, the honor of his own and the model of future times.
CHAPTER II.
Intense Application as a Student.--Habits of Study kept up
during his Vacations.--First Preparations made for Building
at Monticello.--Letters to his College Friend, John Page.--
Anecdote of Benjamin Harrison.--Jefferson's Devotion to his
eldest Sister.--He witnesses the Debate on the Stamp Act.--First
Meeting with Patrick Henry.--His Opinion of him.--His superior
Education.--Always a Student.--Wide Range of Information.--
Anecdote.--Death of his eldest Sister.--His Grief.--Buries
himself in his Books.--Finishes his Course of Law Studies.--
Begins to practise.--Collection of Vocabularies of Indian
Languages.--House at Shadwell burnt.--Loss of his Library.--
Marriage.--Anecdote of his Courtship.--Wife's Beauty.--Bright
Prospects.--Friendship for Dabney Carr.--His Talents.--His
Death.--Jefferson buries him at Monticello.--His Epitaph.
Great as were the charms and delights of the society into which
Jefferson was thrown in Williamsburg, they had not the power to draw
him off from his studies. On the contrary, he seemed to find from
his intercourse with such men as Wythe and Small, fresh incentives
to diligence in his literary pursuits; and these, together with his
natural taste for study, made his application to it so intense, that
had he possessed a less vigorous and robust constitution, his health
must have given way. He studied fifteen hours a day. During the most
closely occupied days of his college life it was his habit to study
until two o'clock at night, and rise at dawn; the day he spent in
close application--the only recreation being a run at twilight to a
certain stone which stood at a point a mile beyond the limits of the
town. His habits of study were kept up during his vacations, which
were spent at Shadwell; and though he did not cut himself off from
the pleasures of social intercourse with his friends and family, yet
he still devoted nearly three-fourths of his time to his books. He
rose in the morning as soon as the hands of a clock placed on the
mantle-piece in his chamber could be distinguished in the gray light
of early dawn. After sunset he crossed the Rivanna in a little
canoe, which was kept exclusively for his own use, and walked up to
the summit of his loved Monticello, where he was having the apex of
the mountain levelled down, preparatory to building.
The following extracts from letters written to his friends while he
was a college-boy, give a fair picture of the sprightliness of his
nature and his enjoyment of society.
To John Page--a friend to whom he was devotedly attached all through
life--he writes, Dec. 25, 1762:
You can not conceive the satisfaction it would give me to have
a letter from you. Write me very circumstantially every thing
which happened at the wedding. Was she[4] there? because
if she was, I ought to have been at the devil for not being
there too. If there is any news stirring in town or country,
such as deaths, courtships, or marriages, in the circle of my
acquaintance, let me know it. Remember me affectionately to
all the young ladies of my acquaintance, particularly the Miss
Burwells, and Miss Potters; and tell them that though that heavy
earthly part of me, my body, be absent, the better half of me,
my soul, is ever with them, and that my best wishes shall ever
attend them. Tell Miss Alice Corbin that I verily believe the
rats knew I was to win a pair of garters from her, or they
never would have been so cruel as to carry mine away. This
very consideration makes me so sure of the bet, that I shall
ask every body I see from that part of the world, what pretty
gentleman is making his addresses to her. I would fain ask the
favor of Miss Becca Burwell to give me another watch-paper of
her own cutting, which I should esteem much more, though it were
a plain round one, than the nicest in the world cut by other
hands; however, I am afraid she would think this presumption,
after my suffering the other to get spoiled.
[4] His lady-love, doubtless--Rebecca Burwell.
A few weeks later, he writes to Page, from Shadwell:
To tell you the plain truth, I have not a syllable to write to
you about. For I do not conceive that any thing can happen in my
world which you would give a curse to know, or I either. All
things here appear to me to trudge on in one and the same round:
we rise in the morning that we may eat breakfast, dinner, and
supper; and go to bed again that we may get up the next morning
and do the same; so that you never saw two peas more alike
than our yesterday and to-day. Under these circumstances, what
would you have me say? Would you that I should write nothing
but truth? I tell you, I know nothing that is true. Or would
you rather that I should write you a pack of lies? Why, unless
they are more ingenious than I am able to invent, they would
furnish you with little amusement. What can I do, then? Nothing
but ask you the news in your world. How have you done since I
saw you? How did Nancy look at you when you danced with her at
Southall's? Have you any glimmering of hope? How does R. B. do?
Had I better stay here and do nothing, or go down and do less?
or, in other words, had I better stay here while I am here, or
go down that I may have the pleasure of sailing up the river
again in a full-rigged flat? Inclination tells me to go, receive
my sentence, and be no longer in suspense; but reason says, If
you go, and your attempt proves unsuccessful, you will be ten
times more wretched than ever.... I have some thoughts of going
to Petersburg if the actors go there in May. If I do, I do not
know but I may keep on to Williamsburg, as the birth-night will
be near. I hear that Ben Harrison [5] has been to Wilton: let me
know his success.
[5] This Ben Harrison afterwards married Miss Randolph, of
Wilton, and was a signer of the Declaration of Independence. He
was fond of the good things of this life, and was a high liver.
Mr. Madison used to tell, with great glee, the following good
story about him: While a member of the first Congress, which
met in Philadelphia, he was on one occasion joined by a friend
as he left the congressional hall. Wishing to ask his friend
to join him in a bumper, he took him to a certain place where
supplies were furnished to the members of Congress, and called
for two glasses of brandy-and-water. The man in charge replied
that liquors were not included in the supplies furnished to
Congressmen.
"Why," asked Harrison, "what is it, then, that I see the New
England members come here and drink?"
"Molasses and water, which they have charged as _stationery_,"
was the reply.
"Very well," said Harrison, "give me the brandy-and-water, and
charge it as _fuel_."
In his literary pursuits and plans for the future, Jefferson found
a most congenial and sympathizing companion, as well as a loving
friend, in his highly-gifted young sister, Jane Jefferson. Three
years his senior, and a woman of extraordinary vigor of mind, we
can well imagine with what pride and pleasure she must have watched
the early development and growth of her young brother's genius and
learning. When five years old, he had read all the books contained in
his father's little library, and we have already found him sought out
by the royal Governor, and chosen as one of his favorite companions,
when but a college-boy. Like himself, his sister was devoted to
music, and they spent many hours together cultivating their taste and
talent for it. Both were particularly fond of sacred music, and she
often gratified her young brother by singing for him hymns.
We have seen, from his letters to his friend Page, that, while a
student in Williamsburg, Jefferson fell in love with Miss Rebecca
Burwell--one of the beauties of her day. He was indulging fond dreams
of success in winning the young lady's heart and hand, when his
courtship was suddenly cut short by her, to him, unexpected marriage
to another.
In the following year, 1765, there took place in the House of
Burgesses the great debate on the Stamp Act, in which Patrick
Henry electrified his hearers by his bold and sublime flights of
oratory. In the lobby of the House was seen the tall, thin figure of
Jefferson, bending eagerly forward to witness the stirring scene--his
face paled from the effects of hard study, and his eyes flashing
with the fire of latent genius, and all the enthusiasm of youthful
and devoted patriotism. In allusion to this scene, he writes in his
Memoir:
When the famous resolutions of 1765 against the Stamp Act were
proposed, I was yet a student of law in Williamsburg. I attended
the debate, however, at the door of the lobby of the House of
Burgesses, and heard the splendid display of Mr. Henry's talents
as a popular orator. They were indeed great; such as I have
never heard from any other man. He appeared to me to speak as
Homer wrote.
It was when on his way to Williamsburg to enter William and Mary
College, that Jefferson first met Henry. They spent a fortnight
together on that occasion, at the house of Mr. Dandridge, in Hanover,
and there began the acquaintance and friendship between them which
lasted through life. While not considering Henry a man of education
or a well-read lawyer, Jefferson often spoke with enthusiasm to his
friends and family of the wonders and beauties of his eloquence, and
also of his great influence and signal services in bringing about
unanimity among the parties which were found in the colony at the
commencement of the troubles with the mother-country. He frequently
expressed admiration for his intrepid spirit and inflexible courage.
Two years before his death we find him speaking of Henry thus:
Wirt says he read Plutarch's Lives once a year. I don't believe
he ever read two volumes of them. On his visits to court, he
used always to put up with me. On one occasion of the breaking
up in November, to meet again in the spring, as he was departing
in the morning, he looked among my books, and observed, "Mr.
Jefferson, I will take two volumes of Hume's Essays, and try to
read them this winter." On his return, he brought them, saying
he had not been able to get half way into one of them.
His great delight was to put on his hunting-shirt, collect
a parcel of overseers and such-like people, and spend weeks
together hunting in the "piny woods," camping at night and
cracking jokes round a light-wood fire.
It was to him that we were indebted for the unanimity that
prevailed among us. He would address the assemblages of the
people at which he was present in such strains of native
eloquence as Homer wrote in. I never heard any thing that
deserved to be called by the same name with what flowed
from him; and where he got that torrent of language from is
inconceivable. I have frequently shut my eyes while he spoke,
and, when he was done, asked myself what he had said, without
being able to recollect a word of it. He was no logician. He was
truly a great man, however--one of enlarged views.
Mr. Jefferson furnished anecdotes, facts, and documents for Wirt's
Life of Henry, and Mr. Wirt submitted his manuscript to him for
criticism and review, which he gave, and also suggested alterations
that were made. We find, from his letters to Mr. Wirt, that when the
latter flagged and hesitated as to the completion and publication of
his work, it was Jefferson who urged him on. In writing of Henry's
supposed inattention to ancient charters, we find him expressing
himself thus: "He drew all natural rights from a purer source--the
feelings of his own breast."[6]
[6] Kennedy's "Life of Wirt," vol. i., p. 367.
In connection with this subject, we can not refrain from quoting from
Wirt the following fine description of Henry in the great debate on
the Stamp Act:
It was in the midst of this magnificent debate, while he (Henry)
was descanting on the tyranny of the obnoxious act, that he
exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, and with the look of a god,
"Cæsar had his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell, and
George the Third--" ("Treason!" cried the Speaker. "Treason!
treason!" echoed from every part of the House. It was one of
those trying moments which are so decisive of character. Henry
faltered not an instant; but rising to a loftier altitude, and
fixing on the Speaker an eye of the most determined fire, he
finished his sentence with the firmest emphasis)--"may profit by
their example. If this be treason, make the most of it."[7]
[7] Wirt's Life of Henry.
When we think of the wonderful powers of this great man, whose
heaven-born eloquence so stirred the hearts of men, how touching
the meekness with which, at the close of an eventful and honorable
career, he thus writes of himself: "Without any classical education,
without patrimony, without what is called the influence of family
connection, and without solicitation, I have attained the highest
offices of my country. I have often contemplated it as a rare and
extraordinary instance, and pathetically exclaimed, 'Not unto me, not
unto me, O Lord, but unto thy name be the praise!'"[8]
[8] Ibid.
Jefferson continued to prosecute his studies at William and Mary, and
we have in the following incident a pleasing proof of his generosity:
While at college, he was one year quite extravagant in his dress, and
in his outlay in horses. At the end of the year he sent his account
to his guardian; and thinking that he had spent more of the income
from his father's estate than was his share, he proposed that the
amount of his expenses should be deducted from his portion of the
property. His guardian, however, replied good-naturedly, "No, no; if
you have sowed your wild oats in this manner, Tom, the estate can
well afford to pay your expenses."
When Jefferson left college, he had laid the broad and solid
foundations of that fine education which in learning placed him head
and shoulders above his contemporaries. A fine mathematician, he was
also a finished Greek, Latin, French, Spanish, and Italian scholar.
He carried with him to Congress in the year 1775 a reputation for
great literary acquirements. John Adams, in his diary for that year,
thus speaks of him: "Duane says that Jefferson is the greatest
rubber-off of dust that he has met with; that he has learned French,
Italian, and Spanish, and wants to learn German."
His school and college education was considered by him as only the
vestibule to that palace of learning which is reached by "no royal
road." He once told a grandson that from the time when, as a boy, he
had turned off wearied from play and first found pleasure in books,
he had never sat down in idleness. And when we consider the vast
fund of learning and wide range of information possessed by him, and
which in his advanced years won for him the appellation of a "walking
encyclopædia," we can well understand how this must have been the
case. His thirst for knowledge was insatiable, and he seized eagerly
all means of obtaining it. It was his habit, in his intercourse with
all classes of men--the mechanic as well as the man of science--to
turn the conversation upon that subject with which the man was best
acquainted, whether it was the construction of a wheel or the
anatomy of an extinct species of animals; and after having drawn
from him all the information which he possessed, on returning home
or retiring to his private apartments, it was all set down by him in
writing--thus arranging it methodically and fixing it in his mind.
An anecdote which has been often told of him will give the reader an
idea of the varied extent of his knowledge. On one occasion, while
travelling, he stopped at a country inn. A stranger, who did not
know who he was, entered into conversation with this plainly-dressed
and unassuming traveller. He introduced one subject after another
into the conversation, and found him perfectly acquainted with each.
Filled with wonder, he seized the first opportunity to inquire of the
landlord who his guest was, saying that, when he spoke of the law, he
thought he was a lawyer; then turning the conversation on medicine,
felt sure he was a physician; but having touched on theology, he
became convinced that he was a clergyman. "Oh," replied the landlord,
"why I thought you knew the Squire." The stranger was then astonished
to hear that the traveller whom he had found so affable and simple in
his manners was Jefferson.
The family circle at Shadwell consisted of six sisters, two brothers,
and their mother. Of the sisters, two married early, and left the
home of their youth--Mary as the wife of Thomas Bolling, and Martha
as that of the generous and highly-gifted young Dabney Carr, the
brilliant promise of whose youth was so soon to be cut short by his
untimely death.
In the fall of the year 1765, the whole family was thrown
into mourning, and the deepest distress, by the death of Jane
Jefferson--so long the pride and ornament of her house. She died in
the twenty-eighth year of her age. The eldest of her family, and a
woman who, from the noble qualities of her head and heart, had ever
commanded their love and admiration, her death was a great blow to
them all, but was felt by none so keenly as by Jefferson himself. The
loss of such a sister to such a brother was irreparable; his grief
for her was deep and constant; and there are, perhaps, few incidents
in the domestic details of history more beautiful than his devotion
to her during her life, and the tenderness of the love with which
he cherished her memory to the last days of his long and eventful
career. He frequently spoke of her to his grandchildren, and even in
his extreme old age said that often in church some sacred air which
her sweet voice had made familiar to him in youth recalled to him
sweet visions of this sister whom he had loved so well and buried so
young.
Among his manuscripts we find the following touching epitaph which he
wrote for her:
"Ah, Joanna, puellarum optima,
Ah, ævi virentis flore prærepta,
Sit tibi terra lævis;
Longe, longeque valeto!"
After the death of his sister Jane, Jefferson had no congenial
intellectual companion left in the family at Shadwell; his other
sisters being all much younger than himself, except one, who was
rather deficient in intellect. It is curious to remark the unequal
distribution of talent in this family--each gifted member seeming to
have been made so at the expense of one of the others.
In the severe affliction caused by the death of his sister, Jefferson
sought consolation in renewed devotion to his books. After a five
years' course of law studies, he was, as we have seen from his
Memoir, introduced to its practice, at the bar of the General Court
of Virginia, in the year 1767, by his "beloved friend and mentor,"
George Wythe. Of the extent of his practice during the eight years
that it lasted, we have ample proof in his account-books. These show
that during that time, in the General Court alone, he was engaged
in nine hundred and forty-eight cases, and that he was employed
as counsel by the first men in the colonies, and even in the
mother-country.
An idea of the impression made by him as an advocate in the
court-room is given in the following anecdote, which we have from
his eldest grandson, Mr. Jefferson Randolph. Anxious to learn how his
grandfather had stood as a pleader, Mr. Randolph once asked an old
man of good sense who in his youth had often heard Jefferson deliver
arguments in court, how he ranked as a speaker, "Well," said the old
gentleman, in reply, "it is hard to tell, because he always took
the right side." Few speakers, we imagine, would desire a greater
compliment than that which the old man unconsciously paid in his
reply.
The works which Jefferson has left behind him as his share in the
revision of the laws of the State, place his erudition as a lawyer
beyond question, while to no man does Virginia owe more for the
preservation of her ancient records than to him. In this last work
he was indefatigable. The manuscripts and materials for the early
history of the State had been partially destroyed and scattered
by the burning of State buildings and the ravages of war. These
Jefferson, as far as it was possible, collected and restored, and it
is to him that we owe their preservation at the present day.
While in the different public offices which he held during his life,
Jefferson availed himself of every opportunity to get information
concerning the language of the Indians of North America, and to
this end he made a collection of the vocabularies of all the Indian
languages, intending, in the leisure of his retirement from public
life, to analyze them, and see if he could trace in them any likeness
to other languages. When he left Washington, after vacating the
presidential chair, these valuable papers were packed in a trunk and
sent, with the rest of his baggage, around by Richmond, whence they
were to be sent up the James and Rivanna Rivers to Monticello. Two
negro boatmen who had charge of them, and who, in the simplicity
of their ignorance, took it for granted that the ex-President was
returning from office with untold wealth, being deceived by the
weight of the trunk, broke into it, thinking that it contained gold.
On discovering their mistake, the papers were scattered to the wind;
and thus were lost literary treasures which might have been a rich
feast to many a philologist.
[Illustration: Marriage Licene-Bond (Fac-simile)]
In the year 1770 the house at Shadwell was destroyed by fire, and
Jefferson then moved to Monticello, where his preparations for
a residence were sufficiently advanced to enable him to make it
his permanent abode. He was from home when the fire took place at
Shadwell, and the first inquiry he made of the negro who carried him
the news was after his books. "Oh, my young master," he replied,
carelessly, "they were all burnt; but, ah! we saved your fiddle."
In 1772 Jefferson married Martha Skelton, the widow of Bathurst
Skelton, and the daughter of John Wayles, of whom he speaks thus in
his Memoir
Mr. Wayles was a lawyer of much practice, to which he was
introduced more by his industry, punctuality, and practical
readiness, than by eminence in the science of his profession.
He was a most agreeable companion, full of pleasantry and
humor, and welcomed in every society. He acquired a handsome
fortune, and died in May, 1773, leaving three daughters. The
portion which came on that event to Mrs. Jefferson, after the
debts were paid, which were very considerable, was about equal
to my own patrimony, and consequently doubled the ease of our
circumstances.
The marriage took place at "The Forest," in Charles City County.
The bride having been left a widow when very young, was only
twenty-three when she married a second time.[9] She is described as
having been very beautiful. A little above middle height, with a
lithe and exquisitely formed figure, she was a model of graceful and
queenlike carriage. Nature, so lavish with her charms for her, to
great personal attractions, added a mind of no ordinary calibre. She
was well educated for her day, and a constant reader; she inherited
from her father his method and industry, as the accounts, kept in
her clear handwriting, and still in the hands of her descendants,
testify. Her well-cultivated talent for music served to enhance
her charms not a little in the eyes of such a musical devotee as
Jefferson.
[9] The license-bond for the marriage, demanded by the laws of
Virginia, of which a fac-simile is given on the opposite page,
written by Jefferson's own hand, is signed by him and by Francis
Eppes, whose son afterwards married Jefferson's daughter. It
will be noticed that the word "spinster" is erased, and "widow"
inserted in another hand-writing.
So young and so beautiful, she was already surrounded by suitors
when Jefferson entered the lists and bore off the prize. A pleasant
anecdote about two of his rivals has been preserved in the tradition
of his family. While laboring under the impression that the lady's
mind was still undecided as to which of her suitors should be the
accepted lover, they met accidentally in the hall of her father's
house. They were on the eve of entering the drawing-room, when the
sound of music caught their ear; the accompanying voices of Jefferson
and his lady-love were soon recognized, and the two disconcerted
lovers, after exchanging a glance, picked up their hats and left.
The New-year and wedding festivities being over, the happy bridal
couple left for Monticello. Their adventures on this journey of more
than a hundred miles, made in the dead of the winter, and their
arrival at Monticello, were, years afterwards, related as follows, by
their eldest daughter, Mrs. Randolph,[10] who heard the tale from her
father's lips:
They left The Forest after a fall of snow, light then, but
increasing in depth as they advanced up the country. They were
finally obliged to quit the carriage and proceed on horseback.
Having stopped for a short time at Blenheim, where an overseer
only resided, they left it at sunset to pursue their way through
a mountain track rather than a road, in which the snow lay
from eighteen inches to two feet deep, having eight miles to
go before reaching Monticello. They arrived late at night, the
fires all out and the servants retired to their own houses for
the night. The horrible dreariness of such a house at the end
of such a journey I have often heard both relate.
[10] The manuscript from which I take this account, and from
which I shall quote frequently in the following pages, was
written by Mrs. Randolph at the request of Mr. Tucker, who
desired to have her written reminiscences of her father when he
wrote his life.
Too happy in each other's love, however, to be long troubled by the
"dreariness" of a cold and dark house, and having found a bottle
of wine "on a shelf behind some books," the young couple refreshed
themselves with its contents, and startled the silence of the night
with song and merry laughter.
Possessing a fine estate and being blessed with a beautiful and
accomplished wife, Jefferson seemed fairly launched upon the great
ocean of life with every prospect of a prosperous and happy voyage.
We find from his account-books that his income was a handsome one
for that day, being three thousand dollars from his practice and two
thousand from his farms. This, as we have seen, was increased by the
receipt of his wife's fortune at her father's death.
Of the many friends by whom he was surrounded in his college days
Dabney Carr was his favorite; his friendship for him was strengthened
by the ties of family connection, on his becoming his brother-in-law
as the husband of his sister Martha. As boys, they had loved each
other; and when studying together it was their habit to go with their
books to the well-wooded sides of Monticello, and there pursue their
studies beneath the shade of a favorite oak. So much attached did
the two friends become to this tree, that it became the subject of a
mutual promise, that the one who survived should see that the body of
the other was buried at its foot. When young Carr's untimely death
occurred Jefferson was away from home, and on his return he found
that he had been buried at Shadwell. Being mindful of his promise,
he had the body disinterred, and removing it, placed it beneath that
tree whose branches now bend over such illustrious dead--for this was
the origin of the grave-yard at Monticello.
It is not only as Jefferson's friend that Dabney Carr lives in
history. The brilliancy of the reputation which he won in his
short career, has placed his name among the men who stood first for
talent and patriotism in the early days of the Revolution. Jefferson
himself, in describing his first appearance in the Virginia House of
Burgesses, pays a warm and handsome tribute to his friend. He says:
I well remember the pleasure expressed in the countenance and
conversation of the members generally on this débût of Mr. Carr,
and the hopes they conceived as well from the talents as the
patriotism it manifested.... His character was of a high order.
A spotless integrity, sound judgment, handsome imagination,
enriched by education and reading, quick and clear in his
conceptions, of correct and ready elocution, impressing every
hearer with the sincerity of the heart from which it flowed.
His firmness was inflexible in whatever he thought was right;
but when no moral principle stood in the way, never had man
more of the milk of human kindness, of indulgence, of softness,
of pleasantry of conversation and conduct. The number of his
friends and the warmth of their affection, were proofs of his
worth, and of their estimate of it.
We have again from Jefferson's pen a charming picture of the domestic
character of Carr, in a letter to his friend John Page, written in
1770:
He (Carr) speaks, thinks, and dreams of nothing but his young
son. This friend of ours, Page, in a very small house, with a
table, half a dozen chairs, and one or two servants, is the
happiest man in the universe. Every incident in life he so takes
as to render it a source of pleasure. With as much benevolence
as the heart of man will hold, but with an utter neglect of
the costly apparatus of life, he exhibits to the world a new
phenomenon in life--the Samian sage in the tub of the cynic.
The death of this highly-gifted young Virginian, whose early life
was so full of promise, took place on the 16th of May, 1773, in
the thirtieth year of his age. His wife, a woman of vigorous
understanding and earnest warmth of heart, was passionately devoted
to him, and his death fell like a blight on her young life. She
found in her brother a loving protector for herself and a fatherly
affection and guidance for her six children--three sons and three
daughters--who were received into his family as his adopted children.
Among Jefferson's papers there was found, after his death, the
following, written on a sheet of note-paper:
INSCRIPTION ON MY FRIEND D. CARR'S TOMB.
Lamented shade, whom every gift of heaven
Profusely blest; a temper winning mild;
Nor pity softer, nor was truth more bright.
Constant in doing well, he neither sought
Nor shunned applause. No bashful merit sighed
Near him neglected: sympathizing he
Wiped off the tear from Sorrow's clouded eye
With kindly hand, and taught her heart to smile.
MALLET'S _Excursion_.
Send for a plate of copper to be nailed on the tree at the foot of
his grave, with this inscription:
Still shall thy grave with rising flowers be dressed
And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast;
There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow,
There the first roses of the year shall blow,
While angels with their silver wings o'ershade
The ground now sacred by thy reliques made.
On the upper part of the stone inscribe as follows:
Here lie the remains of
DABNEY CARR,
Son of John and Jane Carr, of Louisa County,
Who was born ----, 1744.
Intermarried with Martha Jefferson, daughter of Peter
and Jane Jefferson, 1765;
And died at Charlottesville, May 16, 1773,
Leaving six small children.
To his Virtue, Good Sense, Learning, and Friendship
this stone is dedicated by Thomas Jefferson, who, of all men living,
loved him most.
CHAPTER III.
Happy Life at Monticello.--Jefferson's fine Horsemanship.--Birth
of his oldest Child.--Goes to Congress.--Death of his Mother.--
Kindness to British Prisoners.--Their Gratitude.--His
Devotion to Music.--Letter to General De Riedesel.--Is made
Governor of Virginia.--Tarleton pursues Lafayette.--Reaches
Charlottesville.--The British at Monticello.--Cornwallis's
Destruction of Property at Elk Hill.--Jefferson retires at the
End of his Second Term as Governor.--Mrs. Jefferson's delicate
Health.--Jefferson meets with an Accident.--Writes his Notes on
Virginia.--The Marquis De Chastellux visits Monticello.--His
Description of it.--Letter of Congratulation from Jefferson to
Washington.--Mrs. Jefferson's Illness and Death.--Her Daughter's
Description of the Scene.-- Jefferson's Grief.
Following the course which I have laid down for myself, I shall give
but a passing notice of the political events of Jefferson's life,
and only dwell on such incidents as may throw out in bold relief the
beauties and charms of his domestic character. Except when called
from home by duties imposed upon him by his country, the even tenor
of his happy life at Monticello remained unbroken. He prosecuted
his studies with that same ardent thirst for knowledge which he had
evinced when a young student in Williamsburg, mastering every subject
that he took up.
Much time and expense were devoted by him to ornamenting and
improving his house and grounds. A great lover of nature, he found
his favorite recreations in out-of-door enjoyments, and it was his
habit to the day of his death, no matter what his occupation, nor
what office he held, to spend the hours between one and three in the
afternoon on horseback. Noted for his bold and graceful horsemanship,
he kept as riding-horses only those of the best blood of the old
Virginia stock. In the days of his youth he was very exacting of
his groom in having his horses always beautifully kept; and it is
said that it was his habit, when his riding-horse was brought up for
him to mount, to brush his white cambric handkerchief across the
animal's shoulders and send it back to the stable if any dust was
left on the handkerchief.
The garden-book lying before me shows the interest which he took in
all gardening and farming operations. This book, in which he began
to make entries as early as the year 1766, and which he continued to
keep all through life, except when from home, has every thing jotted
down in it, from the date of the earliest peach-blossom to the day
when his wheat was ready for the sickle. His personal, household,
and farm accounts were kept with the precision of the most rigid
accountant, and he was a rare instance of a man of enlarged views
and wide range of thought, being fond of details. The price of his
horses, the fee paid to a ferryman, his little gifts to servants,
his charities--whether great or small--from the penny dropped into
the church-box to the handsome donation given for the erection of a
church--all found a place in his account-book.
In 1772 his eldest child, Martha, was born; his second daughter, Jane
Randolph, died in the fall of 1775, when eighteen months old. He was
most unfortunate in his children--out of six that he had, only two,
Martha and Mary, surviving the period of infancy.
In the year 1775 Jefferson went to Philadelphia as a member of the
first Congress.[11] In the year 1776 he made the following entry in
his little pocket account-book: "_March 31._ My mother died about
eight o'clock this morning, in the 57th year of her age." Thus she
did not live to see the great day with whose glory her son's name is
indissolubly connected.[12]
[11] A gentleman who had been a frequent visitor at Monticello
during Mr. Jefferson's life gave Mr. Randall (Jefferson's
biographer) the following amusing incident concerning this
venerated body and Declaration of Independence: "While the
question of Independence was before Congress, it had its meetings
near a livery-stable. The members wore short breeches and silk
stockings, and, with handkerchief in hand, they were diligently
employed in lashing the flies from their legs. So very vexatious
was this annoyance, and to so great an impatience did it arouse
the sufferers, that it hastened, if it did not aid, in inducing
them to promptly affix their signatures to the great document
which gave birth to an empire republic. "This anecdote I had from
Mr. Jefferson at Monticello, who seemed to enjoy it very much, as
well as to give great credit to the influence of the flies. He
told it with much glee, and seemed to retain a vivid recollection
of an attack, from which the only relief was signing the paper
and flying from the scene."
[12] On the opposite page is given a fac-simile of a portion
of the original draft of the Declaration of Independence; the
greater portion of this paragraph was omitted in the document as
finally adopted. The interlineations in this portion are in the
handwriting of John Adams.
The British prisoners who were surrendered by Burgoyne at the battle
of Saratoga were sent to Virginia and quartered in Albemarle, a
few miles from Monticello. They had not, however, been settled
there many months, before the Governor (Patrick Henry) was urged
to have them moved to some other part of the country, on the plea
that the provisions consumed by them were more necessary for our
own forces. The Governor and Council were on the eve of issuing the
order for their removal, when an earnest entreaty addressed to them
by Jefferson put a stop to all proceedings on the subject. In this
address and petition he says, in speaking of the prisoners,
Their health is also of importance. I would not endeavor to
show that their lives are valuable to us, because it would
suppose a possibility that humanity was kicked out of doors in
America, and interest only attended to.... But is an enemy so
execrable, that, though in captivity, his wishes and comforts
are to be disregarded and even crossed? I think not. It is for
the benefit of mankind to mitigate the horrors of war as much
as possible. The practice, therefore, of modern nations, of
treating captive enemies with politeness and generosity, is not
only delightful in contemplation, but really interesting to all
the world--friends, foes, and neutrals.
This successful effort in their behalf called forth the most earnest
expressions of gratitude from the British and German officers
among the prisoners. The Baron De Riedesel, their commander, was
comfortably fixed in a house not far from Monticello, and he and
the baroness received every attention from Jefferson. Indeed, these
attentions were extended to young officers of the lowest rank. The
hospitalities of her house were gracefully and cordially tendered to
these unfortunate strangers by Mrs. Jefferson, and her husband threw
open to them his library, whence they got books to while away the
tedium of their captivity. The baroness, a warm-hearted, intelligent
woman, from her immense stature, and her habit of riding on horseback
_en cavalier_, was long remembered as a kind of wonder by the good
and simple-hearted people of Albermarle. The intercourse between her
household and that at Monticello was that of neighbors.
[Illustration: Part of Draft of Declaration of Independence
(Fac-simile)]
When Phillips, a British officer whom Jefferson characterized as "the
proudest man of the proudest nation on earth," wrote his thanks to
him for his generous kindness, we find Jefferson replying as follows:
The great cause which divides our countries is not to be decided
by individual animosities. The harmony of private societies
can not weaken national efforts. To contribute by neighborly
intercourse and attention to make others happy, is the shortest
and surest way of being happy ourselves. As these sentiments
seem to have directed your conduct, we should be as unwise as
illiberal, were we not to preserve the same temper of mind.
He also had some pleasant intercourse and correspondence with young
De Ungar, an accomplished officer, who seems to have had many
literary and scientific tastes congenial with Jefferson's. He thus
winds up a letter to this young officer:
When the course of human events shall have removed you to
distant scenes of action, where laurels not moistened with the
blood of my country may be gathered, I shall urge my sincere
prayers for your obtaining every honor and preferment which may
gladden the heart of a soldier. On the other hand, should your
fondness for philosophy resume its merited ascendency, is it
impossible to hope that this unexplored country may tempt your
residence, by holding out materials wherewith to build a fame,
founded on the happiness and not the calamities of human nature?
Be this as it may--a philosopher or a soldier--I wish you
personally many felicities.
The following extract from a letter, written in 1778 to a friend in
Europe, shows Jefferson's extreme fondness of music:
If there is a gratification which I envy any people in this
world, it is, to your country, its music. This is the favorite
passion of my soul, and fortune has cast my lot in a country
where it is in a state of deplorable barbarism. From the line
of life in which we conjecture you to be, I have for some time
lost the hope of seeing you here. Should the event prove so, I
shall ask your assistance in procuring a substitute, who may be
a proficient in singing, etc., on the harpsichord. I should be
contented to receive such an one two or three years hence, when
it is hoped he may come more safely, and find here a greater
plenty of those useful things which commerce alone can furnish.
The bounds of an American fortune will not admit the indulgence
of a domestic band of musicians, yet I have thought that a
passion for music might be reconciled with that economy which we
are obliged to observe.
From his correspondence for the year 1780 I take the following
pleasantly written letter to General De Riedesel. I have elsewhere
alluded to the pleasant intercourse between his family and
Jefferson's, when he was a prisoner on parole in the neighborhood of
Monticello.
_To General De Riedesel._
Richmond, May 3d, 1780.
Sir--Your several favors of December 4th, February 10th, and
March 30th, are come duly to hand. I sincerely condole with
Madame De Riedesel on the birth of a _daughter_,[13] but
receive great pleasure from the information of her recovery,
as every circumstance of felicity to her, yourself or family,
is interesting to us. The little attentions you are pleased
to magnify so much, never deserved a mention or thought. My
mortification was, that the peculiar situation in which we
were, put it out of our power to render your stay here more
comfortable. I am sorry to learn that the negotiations for
the exchange of prisoners have proved abortive, as well from
a desire to see the necessary distresses of war alleviated in
every possible instance, as I am sensible how far yourself and
family are interested in it. Against this, however, is to be
weighed the possibility that we may again have a pleasure we
should otherwise, perhaps, never have had--that of seeing you
again. Be this as it may, opposed as we happen to be in our
sentiments of duty and honor, and anxious for contrary events, I
shall, nevertheless, sincerely rejoice in every circumstance of
happiness or safety which may attend you personally; and when a
termination of the present contest shall put it into my power to
declare to you more unreservedly how sincere are the sentiments
of esteem and respect (wherein Mrs. Jefferson joins me) which I
entertain for Madame De Riedesel and yourself, and with which I
am, sir, your most obedient and most humble servant,
TH. JEFFERSON.
[13] Jefferson himself had no son.
Jefferson was made Governor of Virginia in 1779; and when Tarleton,
in 1781, reached Charlottesville, after his famous pursuit of "the
boy" Lafayette, who slipped through his fingers, it was expected that
Monticello, as the residence of the Governor, would be pillaged. The
conduct of the British was far different.
Jefferson, on being informed that the enemy were close at hand, put
Mrs. Jefferson and her children in a carriage and sent them to a
neighbor's, where they would be out of harm's way. Having sent his
horse to the blacksmith's to be shod, he ordered him to be taken to a
certain point of the road between Monticello and Carter's Mountain,
while he remained quietly at home collecting his most valuable
papers. Two hours after the departure of his family, a gentleman
rode up and told him that the British were on the mountain. He then
left the house and walked over to Carter's Mountain, whence he had
a full view of Charlottesville. He viewed the town through a small
telescope which he took with him, and seeing no "red-coats," thought
their coming was a false alarm, and turned with the intention of
going back to the house. He had not gone far, however, when he found
his light sword-cane had dropped from its sheath. He retraced his
steps, found the weapon, and, on turning around again, saw that
Charlottesville was "alive with British." He then mounted his horse
and followed his family.
Captain McLeod commanded the party of British soldiers who were sent
to Monticello to seize the Governor, and he went with "strict orders
from Tarleton to allow nothing in the house to be injured." When he
found that the bird had flown, he called for a servant of the house,
asked which were Mr. Jefferson's private apartments, and, being shown
the door which led to them, he turned the key in the lock and ordered
that every thing in the house should be untouched.
Unprepared for this generous conduct on the part of the British,
two faithful slaves, Martin and Cæsar, were busy concealing their
master's plate under a floor, a few feet from the ground, when the
red-coats made their appearance on the lawn at Monticello. A plank
had been removed, and Cæsar, having slipped down through the cavity,
stood below to receive the plate as it was handed down by Martin.
The last piece had been handed down when the soldiers came in sight.
There was not a moment to lose, and Martin, thinking only of his
master's plate and not of Cæsar's comfort, clapped the plank down on
top of the poor fellow, and there he remained in the dark and without
food for three days and three nights. Martin himself on this occasion
gave a much more striking proof of fidelity. A brutal soldier placed
a pistol to his breast and threatened to fire unless he disclosed his
master's retreat. "Fire away then!" was the slave's ready and defiant
reply.
The handsome conduct of the British at Monticello afforded a striking
contrast to that of their forces under the command of Cornwallis,
who visited Elk Hill--Jefferson's James River estate. The commanding
general, Cornwallis, had his head-quarters for ten days at the house
on the estate. This house, though not often occupied by Jefferson
and his family, was furnished, and contained a library. The following
is the owner's account of the manner in which the estate was laid
waste:
I had time to remove most of the effects out of the house, He
destroyed all my growing crops of corn and tobacco; he burned
all my barns containing the same articles of the last year,
having first taken what corn he wanted; he used, as was to be
expected, all my stock of cattle, sheep, and hogs, for the
sustenance of his army, and carried off all the horses capable
of service; of those too young for service he cut the throats;
and he burned all the fences on the plantation, so as to render
it an absolute waste. He carried off, also, about thirty slaves.
Had this been to give them freedom he would have done right, but
it was to consign them to inevitable death from the small-pox
and putrid fever then raging in his camp. This I knew afterwards
to be the fate of twenty-seven of them. I never had news of the
remaining three, but suppose they shared the same fate. When I
say that Lord Cornwallis did all this, I do not mean that he
carried about the torch in his own hands, but that it was all
done under his eye--the situation of the house in which he was
commanding a view of every part of the plantation, so that he
must have seen every fire.[14]
[14] Jefferson to Dr. Gordon.
Again he writes:
History will never relate the horrors committed by the British
army in the Southern States of America. They raged in Virginia
six months only, from the middle of April to the middle of
October, 1781, when they were all taken prisoners; and I give
you a faithful specimen of their transactions for ten days of
that time, and on one spot only.[15]
[15] Ibid.
At the end of the second year of his term Jefferson resigned his
commission as Governor. The state of Mrs. Jefferson's health was at
this time a source of great anxiety to him, and he promised her, when
he left public life on this occasion, that he would never again leave
her to accept any office or take part in political life. Saddened
by the deaths of her children, and with a constitution weakened by
disease, her condition was truly alarming, and wrung the heart of
her devoted husband as he watched her failing day by day. He himself
met with an accident about this time--a fall from his horse--which,
though not attended with serious consequences, kept him, for two or
three weeks, more closely confined in the house than it was his habit
to be.
It was during this confinement that he wrote the principal part of
his "Notes on Virginia." He had been in the habit of committing to
writing any information about the State which he thought would be
of use to him in any station, public or private; and receiving a
letter from M. De Marbois, the French ambassador, asking for certain
statistical accounts of the State of Virginia, he embodied the
substance of the information he had so acquired and sent it to him in
the form of the "Notes on Virginia."
A charming picture of Monticello and its inmates at that day is found
in "Travels in North America, by the Marquis De Chastellux." This
accomplished French nobleman visited Jefferson in the spring of 1782.
After describing his approach to the foot of the southwest range of
mountains, he says:
On the summit of one of them we discovered the house of Mr.
Jefferson, which stands pre-eminent in these retirements; it
was himself who built it, and preferred this situation; for
although he possessed considerable property in the neighborhood,
there was nothing to prevent him from fixing his residence
wherever he thought proper. But it was a debt Nature owed to a
philosopher, and a man of taste, that in his own possessions he
should find a spot where he might best study and enjoy her. He
calls his house _Monticello_ (in Italian, Little Mountain), a
very modest title, for it is situated upon a very lofty one, but
which announces the owner's attachment to the language of Italy;
and, above all, to the fine arts, of which that country was the
cradle, and is still the asylum. As I had no further occasion
for a guide, I separated from the Irishman; and after ascending
by a tolerably commodious road for more than half an hour we
arrived at Monticello. This house, of which Mr. Jefferson was
the architect, and often one of the workmen, is rather elegant,
and in the Italian taste, though not without fault; it consists
of one large square pavilion, the entrance of which is by two
porticoes, ornamented with pillars. The ground-floor consists
of a very large lofty saloon, which is to be decorated entirely
in the antique style; above it is a library of the same form;
two small wings, with only a ground-floor and attic story, are
joined to this pavilion, and communicate with the kitchen,
offices, etc., which will form a kind of basement story, over
which runs a terrace.
My object in this short description is only to show the
difference between this and the other houses of the country;
for we may safely aver that Mr. Jefferson is the first American
who has consulted the fine arts to know how he should shelter
himself from the weather.
But it is on himself alone I ought to bestow my time. Let me
describe to you a man, not yet forty, tall and with a mild
and pleasing countenance, but whose mind and understanding
are ample substitutes for every exterior grace. An American,
who, without ever having quitted his own country, is at once a
musician, skilled in drawing, a geometrician, an astronomer,
a natural philosopher, legislator, and statesman. A Senator
of America, who sat for two years in that body which brought
about the Revolution; and which is never mentioned without
respect, though unhappily not without regret, a Governor of
Virginia, who filled this difficult station during the invasions
of Arnold, of Phillips, and of Cornwallis; a philosopher, in
voluntary retirement from the world and public business because
he loves the world, in as much only as he can flatter himself
with being useful to mankind, and the minds of his countrymen
are not yet in a condition either to bear the light or suffer
contradiction. A mild and amiable wife, charming children, of
whose education he himself takes charge, a house to embellish,
great provisions to improve, and the arts and sciences to
cultivate; these are what remain to Mr. Jefferson, after having
played a principal character on the theatre of the New World,
and which he preferred to the honorable commission of Minister
Plenipotentiary in Europe.
The visit which I made him was not unexpected, for he had
long since invited me to come and pass a few days with him in
the centre of the mountains; notwithstanding which, I found
his appearance serious--nay even cold, but before I had been
two hours with him, we were as intimate as if we had passed
our whole lives together; walking, books, but above all, a
conversation always varied and interesting, always supported
by the sweet satisfaction experienced by two persons, who, in
communicating their sentiments and opinions, are invariably in
unison, and who understand each other at the first hint, made
four days pass away like so many minutes.
This conformity of opinions and sentiments on which I insist
because it constitutes my own eulogium (and self-love must
somewhere show itself), this conformity, I say, was so perfect,
that not only our taste was similar, but our predilections
also; those partialities which cold methodical minds ridicule
as enthusiastic, while sensible and animated ones cherish and
adopt the glorious appellation. I recollect with pleasure that
as we were conversing over a bowl of punch, after Mrs. Jefferson
had retired, our conversation turned on the poems of Ossian. It
was a spark of electricity which passed rapidly from one to the
other; we recollected the passages in those sublime poems which
particularly struck us, and entertained my fellow-travellers,
who fortunately knew English well, and were qualified to judge
of their merits, though they had never read the poems. In our
enthusiasm the book was sent for, and placed near the bowl,
where, by their mutual aid, the night far advanced imperceptibly
upon us.
Sometimes natural philosophy, at others politics or the arts,
were the topics of our conversation, for no object had escaped
Mr. Jefferson; and it seemed as if from his youth he had placed
his mind, as he has done his house, on an elevated situation,
from which he might contemplate the universe.[16]
[16] Chastellux's Travels in America, pp. 40-46.
Mr. Jefferson--continues the Marquis--amused himself by raising a
score of these animals (deer) in his park; they are become very
familiar, which happens to all the animals of America; for they are
in general much easier to tame than those of Europe. He amuses
himself by feeding them with Indian corn, of which they are very
fond, and which they eat out of his hand. I followed him one evening
into a deep valley, where they are accustomed to assemble towards the
close of the day, and saw them walk, run, and bound; but the more I
examined their paces, the less I was inclined to annex them to any
particular species in Europe. Mr. Jefferson being no sportsman, and
not having crossed the seas, could have no decided opinion on this
part of natural history; but he has not neglected the other branches.
I saw with pleasure that he had applied himself particularly to
meteorological observation, which, in fact, of all the branches of
philosophy, is the most proper for Americans to cultivate, from the
extent of their country and the variety of their situation, which
gives them in this point a great advantage over us, who, in other
respects, have so many over them. Mr. Jefferson has made with Mr.
Madison, a well-informed professor of mathematics, some correspondent
observations on the reigning winds at Williamsburg and Monticello.[17]
[17] Vol. ii., p. 48.
But--says the Marquis--I perceive my journal is something like
the conversation I had with Mr. Jefferson; I pass from one object
to another, and forget myself as I write, as it happened not
unfrequently in his society. I must now quit the friend of nature,
but not Nature herself, who expects me, in all her splendor, at
the end of my journey; I mean the famous Bridge of Rocks, which
unites two mountains, the most curious object I ever beheld, as its
construction is the most difficult of solution. Mr. Jefferson would
most willingly have conducted me thither, although this wonder is
upward of eighty miles from him, and he had often seen it, but his
wife being expected every moment to lie in, and himself being as good
a husband as he is an excellent philosopher and virtuous citizen, he
only acted as my guide for about sixteen miles, to the passage of
the little river Mechum, when we parted, and, I presume to flatter
myself, with mutual regret."[18]
[18] Vol. ii., p. 55.
The following warm letter of congratulation to General Washington
shows the affection felt for him by Jefferson:
_To General Washington._
Monticello, October 28th, 1781.
Sir--I hope it will not be unacceptable to your Excellency to
receive the congratulations of a private individual on your
return to your native country, and, above all things, on the
important success which has attended it.[19] Great as this has
been, however, it can scarcely add to the affection with which
we have looked up to you. And if, in the minds of any, the
motives of gratitude to our good allies were not sufficiently
apparent, the part they have borne in this action must amply
convince them. Notwithstanding the state of perpetual solicitude
to which I am unfortunately reduced,[20]
I should certainly have done myself the honor of paying my respects
to you personally; but I apprehend that these visits, which are meant
by us as marks of our attachment to you, must interfere with the
regulations of a camp, and be particularly inconvenient to one whose
time is too precious to be wasted in ceremony.
[19] At Yorktown.
[20] On account of Mrs. Jefferson's health.
I beg you to believe me among the sincerest of those who subscribe
themselves your Excellency's most obedient and most humble servant,
TH. JEFFERSON.
The delicate condition of Mrs. Jefferson's health, alluded to in the
preceding letter, continued to be such as to excite the alarm of her
friends, and their worst apprehensions were soon realized. After
the birth of her sixth child she sank so rapidly that it was plain
there was no hope of her recovery. During her illness Jefferson was
untiring in his attentions to her, and the devotion he showed her was
constant and touching. The following account of the closing scenes of
this domestic tragedy I take from Mrs. Randolph's manuscript:
During my mother's life he (Jefferson) bestowed much time
and attention on our education--our cousins, the Carrs,
and myself--and after her death, during the first month of
desolation which followed, I was his constant companion while we
remained at Monticello....
As a nurse no female ever had more tenderness nor anxiety.
He nursed my poor mother in turn with aunt Carr and her own
sister--sitting up with her and administering her medicines and
drink to the last. For four months that she lingered he was
never out of calling; when not at her bedside, he was writing in
a small room which opened immediately at the head of her bed.
A moment before the closing scene, he was led from the room in
a state of insensibility by his sister, Mrs. Carr, who, with
great difficulty, got him into the library, where he fainted,
and remained so long insensible that they feared he never would
revive. The scene that followed I did not witness, but the
violence of his emotion, when, almost by stealth, I entered his
room by night, to this day I dare not describe to myself. He
kept his room three weeks, and I was never a moment from his
side. He walked almost incessantly night and day, only lying
down occasionally, when nature was completely exhausted, on a
pallet that had been brought in during his long fainting-fit.
My aunts remained constantly with him for some weeks--I do not
remember how many. When at last he left his room, he rode out,
and from that time he was incessantly on horseback, rambling
about the mountain, in the least frequented roads, and just as
often through the woods. In those melancholy rambles I was his
constant companion--a solitary witness to many a burst of grief,
the remembrance of which has consecrated particular scenes of
that lost home[21] beyond the power of time to obliterate.
[21] Mrs. Randolph wrote this after Monticello had been sold and
passed into the hands of strangers.
Mrs. Jefferson left three children, Martha, Mary, and Lucy
Elizabeth--the last an infant. As far as it was possible, their
father, by his watchful care and tender love, supplied the place of
the mother they had lost. The account of her death just given gives
a vivid description of his grief, and so alarming was the state
of insensibility into which he fell, that his sister, Mrs. Carr,
called to his sister-in-law, who was still bending over her sister's
lifeless body, "to leave the dead and come and take care of the
living."
Years afterwards he wrote the following epitaph for his wife's tomb:
To the Memory of
MARTHA JEFFERSON,
Daughter of John Wayles;
Born October 19th, 1748, O. S.;
Intermarried with
THOMAS JEFFERSON
January 1st, 1772;
Torn from him by Death
September 6th, 1782:
This Monument of his Love is inscribed.
* * * * *
If in the melancholy shades below,
The flames of friends and lovers cease to glow,
Yet mine shall sacred last; mine undecayed
Burn on through death and animate my shade.[22]
[22] These four lines Mr. Jefferson left in the Greek in the
original epitaph.
[Illustration: MARTHA JEFFERSON RANDOLPH.
_From Portrait by Sully._]
CHAPTER IV.
Visit to Chesterfield County.--Is appointed Plenipotentiary
to Europe.--Letter to the Marquis de Chastellux.--Goes North
with his Daughter.--Leaves her in Philadelphia, and goes to
Congress.--Letters to his Daughter.--Sails for Europe.--His
Daughter's Description of the Voyage.--His Establishment and
Life in Paris.--Succeeds Franklin as Minister there.--Anecdotes
of Franklin.--Extracts from Mrs. Adams's Letters.--Note from
Jefferson to Mrs. Smith.
A short time after Mrs. Jefferson's death, Jefferson went with
his children to Ampthill, in Chesterfield County, the residence
of Colonel Archibald Cary. This gentleman had kindly offered his
house to him, that he might there have his children inoculated
for the small-pox. While engaged as their chief nurse on this
occasion, he received notice of his appointment by Congress as
Plenipotentiary to Europe, to be associated with Dr. Franklin and
Mr. Adams in negotiating peace. Twice before the same appointment
had been declined by him, as he had promised his wife never again to
enter public life while she lived. Mr. Madison, in alluding to his
appointment by Congress, says:
The reappointment of Mr. Jefferson as Minister Plenipotentiary
for negotiating peace, was agreed to unanimously, and without a
single adverse remark. The act took place in consequence of its
being suggested that the death of Mrs. Jefferson had probably
changed the sentiments of Mr. Jefferson with regard to public
life.[23]
[23] Madison Papers.
Jefferson himself, in speaking of this appointment, says in his
Memoir:
I had, two months before that, lost the cherished companion of
my life, in whose affections, unabated on both sides, I had
lived the last ten years in unchequered happiness. With the
public interests the state of my mind concurred in recommending
the change of scene proposed; and I accepted the appointment.
Writing to the Marquis de Chastellux, he says:
Ampthill, November 26th, 1782.
Dear Sir--I received your friendly letters of ---- and June
30th, but the latter not till the 17th of October. It found me a
little emerging from the stupor of mind which had rendered me as
dead to the world as was she whose loss occasioned it.... Before
that event my scheme of life had been determined. I had folded
myself in the arms of retirement, and rested all prospects of
future happiness on domestic and literary objects. A single
event wiped away all my plans, and left me a blank which I had
not the spirits to fill up. In this state of mind an appointment
from Congress found me, requiring me to cross the Atlantic.
Having accepted the appointment, Mr. Jefferson left his two youngest
children with their maternal aunt, Mrs. Eppes, of Eppington, and
went North with his daughter Martha, then in her eleventh year. Some
delay in his departure for Europe was occasioned by news received
from Europe by Congress. During the uncertainty as to the time of
his departure he placed the little Martha at school in Philadelphia,
under the charge of an excellent and kind lady, Mrs. Hopkinson. From
this time we find him writing regularly to his daughters during every
separation from them, and it is in the letters written on those
occasions that are portrayed most vividly the love and tenderness
of the father, and the fine traits of character of the man. That
the reader may see what these were, I shall give a number of these
letters, and, as far as possible, in their chronological order.
The original of the first of the following letters is now in the
possession of the Queen of England. Mr. Aaron Vail, when Chargé
d'Affaires of the United States at the Court of St. James, being
requested by Princess Victoria to procure her an autograph of
Jefferson, applied to a member of Mr. Jefferson's family, who sent
him this letter for the princess. Mr. Jefferson was at this time
again a member of Congress, which was then holding its sessions in
Annapolis.
_Thomas Jefferson to Martha Jefferson._
Annapolis, Nov. 28th, 1783.
My dear Patsy--After four days' journey, I arrived here without
any accident, and in as good health as when I left Philadelphia.
The conviction that you would be more improved in the situation
I have placed you than if still with me, has solaced me on my
parting with you, which my love for you has rendered a difficult
thing. The acquirements which I hope you will make under the
tutors I have provided for you will render you more worthy of
my love; and if they can not increase it, they will prevent
its diminution. Consider the good lady who has taken you under
her roof, who has undertaken to see that you perform all your
exercises, and to admonish you in all those wanderings from what
is right or what is clever, to which your inexperience would
expose you: consider her, I say, as your mother, as the only
person to whom, since the loss with which Heaven has pleased to
afflict you, you can now look up; and that her displeasure or
disapprobation, on any occasion, will be an immense misfortune,
which should you be so unhappy as to incur by any unguarded
act, think no concession too much to regain her good-will. With
respect to the distribution of your time, the following is what
I should approve:
From 8 to 10, practice music.
From 10 to 1, dance one day and draw another.
From 1 to 2, draw on the day you dance, and write a letter next
day.
From 3 to 4, read French.
From 4 to 5, exercise yourself in music.
From 5 till bed-time, read English, write, etc.
Communicate this plan to Mrs. Hopkinson, and if she approves of
it, pursue it. As long as Mrs. Trist remains in Philadelphia,
cultivate her affection. She has been a valuable friend to you,
and her good sense and good heart make her valued by all who
know her, and by nobody on earth more than me. I expect you
will write me by every post. Inform me what books you read,
what tunes you learn, and inclose me your best copy of every
lesson in drawing. Write also one letter a week either to your
Aunt Eppes, your Aunt Skipwith, your Aunt Carr, or the little
lady[24] from whom I now inclose a letter, and always put the
letter you so write under cover to me. Take care that you never
spell a word wrong. Always before you write a word, consider
how it is spelt, and, if you do not remember it, turn to a
dictionary. It produces great praise to a lady to spell well. I
have placed my happiness on seeing you good and accomplished;
and no distress which this world can now bring on me would equal
that of your disappointing my hopes. If you love me, then strive
to be good under every situation and to all living creatures,
and to acquire those accomplishments which I have put in your
power, and which will go far towards ensuring you the warmest
love of your affectionate father,
TH. JEFFERSON.
P.S.--Keep my letters and read them at times, that you may
always have present in your mind those things which will endear
you to me.
[24] Her little sister, Mary Jefferson.
_Thomas Jefferson to Martha Jefferson._--[_Extract._][25]
[25] We find the key to this and the letter following it in the
following paragraph of a letter from Mrs. Trist to Mr. Jefferson:
"Patsy is very hearty; she now and then gives us a call. She
seems happy, much more so than I expected. When you write, give
her a charge about her dress, which will be a hint to Mrs. H. to
be particular with her. De Simitière complains that his pupil
is rather inattentive. You can be particular to these matters
when you write, but don't let her know you heard any complaints.
I fancy the old lady is preparing for the other world, for she
conceits the earthquake we had the other night is only a prelude
to something dreadful that will happen."
Annapolis, Dec. 11th, 1783.
I hope you will have good sense enough to disregard those
foolish predictions that the world is to be at an end soon.
The Almighty has never made known to any body at what time he
created it; nor will he tell any body when he will put an end
to it, if he ever means to do it. As to preparations for that
event, the best way is for you always to be prepared for it. The
only way to be so is, never to say or do a bad thing. If ever
you are about to say any thing amiss, or to do any thing wrong,
consider beforehand you will feel something within you which
will tell you it is wrong, and ought not to be said or done.
This is your conscience, and be sure and obey it. Our Maker has
given us all this faithful internal monitor, and if you always
obey it you will always be prepared for the end of the world; or
for a much more certain event, which is death. This must happen
to all; it puts an end to the world as to us; and the way to be
ready for it is never to do a wrong act.
_Thomas Jefferson to Martha Jefferson._--[_Extract._]
Annapolis, Dec. 22d, 1783.
I omitted in that letter to advise you on the subject of dress,
which I know you are a little apt to neglect. I do not wish you
to be gaily clothed at this time of life, but that your wear
should be fine of its kind. But above all things and at all
times let your clothes be neat, whole, and properly put on. Do
not fancy you must wear them till the dirt is visible to the
eye. You will be the last one who is sensible of this. Some
ladies think they may, under the privileges of the _déshabillé_,
be loose and negligent of their dress in the morning. But be
you, from the moment you rise till you go to bed, as cleanly
and properly dressed as at the hours of dinner or tea. A lady
who has been seen as a sloven or a slut in the morning, will
never efface the impression she has made, with all the dress
and pageantry she can afterwards involve herself in. Nothing is
so disgusting to our sex as a want of cleanliness and delicacy
in yours. I hope, therefore, the moment you rise from bed, your
first work will be to dress yourself in such style, as that you
may be seen by any gentleman without his being able to discover
a pin amiss, or any other circumstance of neatness wanting.
_Thomas Jefferson to Martha Jefferson._
Annapolis, Jan. 15th, 1783.
My dear Martha--I am anxious to know what books you read, what
tunes you play, and to receive specimens of your drawing. With
respect to your meeting M. Simitière[26] at Mr. Rittenhouse's,
nothing could give me more pleasure than your being much with
that worthy family, wherein you will see the best examples of
rational life, and learn to esteem and copy them. But I should
be very tender of intruding you on the family; as it might,
perhaps, be not always convenient for you to be there at your
hours of attending M. Simitière. I can only say, then, that
if it has been desired by Mr. and Mrs. Rittenhouse, in such a
manner as that Mrs. Hopkinson shall be satisfied that they will
not think it inconvenient, I would have you thankfully accept
it; and conduct yourself with so much attention to the family
as that they may never feel themselves incommoded by it. I hope
Mrs. Hopkinson will be so good as to act for you in this matter
with that delicacy and prudence of which she is so capable. I
have much at heart your learning to draw, and should be uneasy
at your losing this opportunity, which probably is your last.
[26] M. Simitière was a Frenchman, from whom, as his letters
show, Mr. Jefferson was anxious for his daughter to take drawing
lessons.
_Thomas Jefferson to Martha Jefferson._--[_Extract._]
Annapolis, February 18th, 1784.
I am sorry M. Simitière can not attend you, because it is
probable you will never have another opportunity of learning
to draw, and it is a pretty and pleasing accomplishment. With
respect to the payment of the guinea, I would wish him to
receive it; because if there is to be a doubt between him and me
which of us acts rightly, I would wish to remove it clearly off
my own shoulders. You must thank Mrs. Hopkinson for me for the
trouble she gave herself in this matter; from which she will be
relieved by paying M. Simitière his demand.
In the spring of this year (1784) Mr. Jefferson received definite
orders from Congress to go to Europe as Minister Plenipotentiary, and
act in conjunction with Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams in negotiating
treaties of commerce with foreign nations. He accordingly sailed
in July, taking with him his young daughter Martha. The following
description of his voyage, establishment in Paris and life there, is
from her pen. The other two children, Mary and Lucy Elizabeth, were
left with their good aunt, Mrs. Eppes. Mrs. Randolph says, in her
manuscript:
He sailed from Boston in a ship of Colonel Tracy's (the Ceres,
Capt. St. Barbe); the passengers--only six in number--of whom
Colonel Tracy himself was one, were to a certain degree select,
being chosen from many applying. The voyage was as pleasant as
fine weather, a fine ship, good company, and an excellent table
could make it. From land to land they were only nineteen days,
of which they were becalmed three on the Banks of Newfoundland,
which were spent in cod-fishing. The epicures of the cabin
feasted on fresh tongues and sounds, leaving the rest of the
fish for the sailors, of which much was thrown overboard for
want of salt to preserve it. We were landed at Portsmouth, where
he was detained a week by the illness of his little travelling
companion, suffering from the effects of the voyage. Nothing
worthy of note occurred on the voyage or journey to Paris.
On his first arrival in Paris he occupied rooms in the Hôtel
d'Orléans, _Rue des Petits Augustins_, until a house could
be got ready for him. His first house was in the Cul-de-sac
Têtebout, near the Boulevards. At the end of the year he removed
to a house belonging to M. le Comte de L'Avongeac, at the
corner of the Grande Route des Champs Elysées and the Rue Neuve
de Berry, where he continued as long as he remained in Paris.
Colonel Humphreys, the secretary of legation, and Mr. Short, his
private secretary, both lived with him. The house was a very
elegant one even for Paris, with an extensive garden, court, and
outbuildings, in the handsomest style.
He also had rooms in the Carthusian Monastery on Mount Calvary;
the boarders, of whom I think there were forty, carried their
own servants, and took their breakfasts in their own rooms. They
assembled to dinner only. They had the privilege of walking in
the gardens, but as it was a hermitage, it was against the rules
of the house for any voices to be heard outside of their own
rooms, hence the most profound silence. The author of Anacharsis
was a boarder at the time, and many others who had reasons for
a temporary retirement from the world. Whenever he had a press
of business, he was in the habit of taking his papers and going
to the hermitage, where he spent sometimes a week or more till
he had finished his work. The hermits visited him occasionally
in Paris, and the Superior made him a present of an ivory broom
that was turned by one of the brothers.
His habits of study in Paris were pretty much what they were
elsewhere. He was always a very early riser and the whole
morning was spent in business, generally writing till one
o'clock, with the exception of a short respite afforded by the
breakfast-table, at which he frequently lingered, conversing
willingly at such times. At one o'clock he always rode or walked
as far as seven miles into the country. Returning from one of
these rambles, he was on one occasion joined by some friend, and
being earnestly engaged in conversation he fell and broke his
wrist. He said nothing at the moment, but holding the suffering
limb with the other hand, he continued the conversation until he
arrived near to his own house, when, informing his companion of
the accident, he left him to send for the surgeon. The fracture
was a complicated one and probably much swollen before the
arrival of the surgeon; but it was not set, and remained ever
after weak and stiff. While disabled by this accident he was in
the habit of writing with his left hand, in which he soon became
tolerably expert--the writing being well-formed but stiff. A few
years before his death another fall deprived him in like manner
of the use of his left hand, which rendered him very helpless in
his hands, particularly for writing, which latterly became very
slow and painful to him.... He kept me with him till I was sent
to a convent in Paris, where his visits to me were daily for the
first month or two, till in fact I recovered my spirits.
Nothing could have been more congenial or delightful to him than the
society in which Jefferson moved in Paris. At the head of an elegant
establishment, as an American and the friend of Lafayette, his house
was the favorite resort of all the accomplished and gallant young
French officers who had enthusiastically taken up arms in defense of
the great cause of liberty in the New World; while as a philosopher
and the author of the "Notes on Virginia," his society was sought for
and enjoyed by the most distinguished savants and men of science,
who thronged from all parts of Europe to the great French capital.
Nor were the ease and grace of his address, the charms of his
eloquent conversation, and the varied extent of his learning, lost
upon the witty and handsome women who were found at the court of
the amiable young Louis the Sixteenth and of his queen, the lovely
Marie Antoinette--so sadly pre-eminent for beauty and misfortune. His
social intercourse with them, and the pleasant friendships formed for
many, we discover in his gracefully-written letters to them.
Mr. and Mrs. John Adams were in Paris with Jefferson, and Mrs. Adams
pays a graceful tribute to his talents and worth in her letters home,
and in one of them speaks of him as being one of the "choice ones of
the earth." His intercourse with his two colleagues, Dr. Franklin
and Mr. Adams, was of the most delightful character, and by both he
was sincerely loved and esteemed. The friendship then formed between
Mr. Adams and himself withstood, in after years, all the storms and
bitterness of political life, at a time when, perhaps, party feeling
and prejudice ran higher than ever before.
When Franklin returned home, loaded with all the honors and love that
the admiration of the French people could lavish on him, Jefferson
was appointed to take his place as Minister from the United States at
the Court of St. Germains. "You replace Dr. Franklin," said Count de
Vergennes, the French Premier, to him--"I _succeed_ him; no one could
replace him," was Jefferson's ready reply. Perhaps no greater proof
of Jefferson's popularity in Paris could be given, than the fact that
he so soon became a favorite in that learned and polished society in
which the great Franklin had been the lion of the day. I quote from
Jefferson's writings the following anecdotes of Franklin, which the
reader will not find out of place here:
When Dr. Franklin went to France on his revolutionary mission,
his eminence as a philosopher, his venerable appearance, and the
cause on which he was sent, rendered him extremely popular--for
all ranks and conditions of men there entered warmly into the
American interest. He was, therefore, feasted and invited to
all the court parties. At these he sometimes met the old Duchess
of Bourbon, who being a chess-player of about his force, they
very generally played together. Happening once to put her king
into prise, the Doctor took it. "Ah," says she, "we do not take
kings so." "We do in America," said the Doctor.
At one of these parties the Emperor Joseph II., then at Paris
_incog._ under the title of Count Falkenstein, was overlooking
the game in silence, while the company was engaged in animated
conversations on the American question. "How happens it, M.
le Comte," said the Duchess, "that while we all feel so much
interest in the cause of the Americans, you say nothing for
them?" "I am a king by trade," said he.
The Doctor told me at Paris the following anecdote of the Abbé
Raynal: He had a party to dine with him one day at Passy, of
whom one half were Americans, the other half French, and among
the last was the Abbé. During the dinner he got on his favorite
theory of the degeneracy of animals and even of man in America,
and urged it with his usual eloquence. The Doctor, at length
noticing the accidental stature and position of his guests at
table, "Come," says he, "M. l'Abbé, let us try this question
by the fact before us. We are here, one half Americans and one
half French, and it happens that the Americans have placed
themselves on one side of the table, and our French friends are
on the other. Let both parties rise, and we will see on which
side nature has degenerated." It happened that his American
guests were Carmichael, Harmer, Humphreys, and others of the
finest stature and form; while those of the other side were
remarkably diminutive, and the Abbé himself, particularly, was a
mere shrimp. He parried the appeal, however, by a complimentary
admission of exceptions, among which the Doctor himself was a
conspicuous one.
The following interesting quotations from Mrs. Adams's letters, in
which she alludes to Mr. Jefferson, will be found interesting here.
To her sister she writes:
There is now a court mourning, and every foreign minister,
with his family, must go into mourning for a Prince of eight
years old, whose father is an ally to the King of France. This
mourning is ordered by the Court, and is to be worn eleven days
only. Poor Mr. Jefferson had to hie away for a tailor to get a
whole black silk suit made up in two days; and at the end of
eleven days, should another death happen, he will be obliged to
have a new suit of mourning of cloth, because that is the season
when silk must be left off.
To her niece Mrs. Adams writes:
Well, my dear niece, I have returned from Mr. Jefferson's.
When I got there I found a pretty large company. It consisted
of the Marquis and Madame de Lafayette; the Count and Countess
de ----; a French Count who had been a general in America, but
whose name I forget; Commodore Jones; Mr. Jarvis, an American
gentleman lately arrived (the same who married Amelia B----),
who says there is so strong a likeness between your cousin and
his lady, that he is obliged to be upon his guard lest he should
think himself at home, and commit some mistake--he appears a
very sensible, agreeable gentleman; a Mr. Bowdoin, an American
also; I ask the Chevalier de la Luzerne's pardon--I had like
to have forgotten him; Mr. Williams, of course, as he always
dines with Mr. Jefferson; and Mr. Short--though one of Mr.
Jefferson's family, as he has been absent some time I name him.
He took a resolution that he would go into a French family at
St. Germain, and acquire the language; and this is the only way
for a foreigner to obtain it. I have often wished that I could
not hear a word of English spoken. I think I have mentioned Mr.
Short before, in some of my letters; he is about the stature
of Mr. Tudor; a better figure, but much like him in looks and
manners; consequently a favorite of mine.
They have some customs very curious here. When company are
invited to dine, if twenty gentlemen meet, they seldom or never
sit down, but are standing or walking from one part of the room
to the other, with their swords on, and their _chapeau de bras_,
which is a very small silk hat, always worn under the arm. These
they lay aside while they dine, but reassume them immediately
after. I wonder how the fashion of standing crept in among a
nation who really deserve the appellation of polite; for in
winter it shuts out all the fire from the ladies; I know I have
suffered from it many times.
At dinner, the ladies and gentlemen are mixed, and you converse
with him who sits next you, rarely speaking to two persons
across the table, unless to ask if they will be served with
any thing from your side. Conversation is never general as
with us; for, when the company quit the table, they fall into
_tête-à-tête_ of two and two, when the conversation is in a
low voice, and a stranger unacquainted with the customs of the
country, would think that every body had private business to
transact.
Mrs. Adams writes to her sister:
We see as much company in a formal way as our revenues will
admit; and Mr. Jefferson, with one or two Americans, visits us
in the social, friendly way. I shall really regret to leave
Mr. Jefferson; he is one of the choice ones of the earth. On
Thursday, I dine with him at his house. On Sunday he is to dine
here. On Monday we all dine with the Marquis.
The intimate and friendly relations which existed between Mr.
Jefferson and Mrs. Adams's family is seen from the following playful
note from him to her daughter, Mrs. Smith:
Mr. Jefferson has the honor to present his compliments to Mrs.
Smith and to send her the two pair of corsets she desired. He
wishes they may be suitable, as Mrs. Smith omitted to send her
measure. Times are altered since Mademoiselle de Sanson had the
honor of knowing her; should they be too small, however, she
will be so good as to lay them by a while. There are ebbs as
well as flows in this world. When the mountain refused to come
to Mahomet, he went to the mountain. Mr. Jefferson wishes Mrs.
Smith a happy new-year, and abundance of happier ones still
to follow it. He begs leave to assure her of his esteem and
respect, and that he shall always be happy to be rendered useful
to her by being charged with her Commands.
Paris, Jan. 15, 1787.
CHAPTER V.
Jefferson's first Impressions of Europe.--Letter to Mrs.
Trist.--To Baron De Geismer.--He visits England.--Letter to his
Daughter.--To his Sister.--Extract from his Journal kept when
in England.--Letter to John Page.--Presents a Bust of Lafayette
to chief Functionaries of Paris.--Breaks his Wrist.-- Letter
to Mrs. Trist.--Mr. and Mrs. Cosway.--Correspondence with Mrs.
Cosway.--Letter to Colonel Carrington.--To Mr. Madison.--To Mrs.
Bingham.--Her Reply.
Jefferson's first impressions of Europe and of the French are found
in the following extracts from his letters written to America at that
time:
_Extract from a Letter to Mrs. Trist._
Paris, August 18th, 1785.
I am much pleased with the people of this country. The
roughnesses of the human mind are so thoroughly rubbed off
with them, that it seems as if one might glide through a
whole life among them without a jostle. Perhaps, too, their
manners may be the best calculated for happiness to a people
in their situation, but I am convinced they fall far short of
effecting a happiness so temperate, so uniform, and so lasting
as is generally enjoyed with us. The domestic bonds here are
absolutely done away, and where can their compensation be
found? Perhaps they may catch some moments of transport above
the level of the ordinary tranquil joy we experience, but they
are separated by long intervals, during which all the passions
are at sea without a rudder or a compass. Yet, fallacious as
the pursuits of happiness are, they seem, on the whole, to
furnish the most effectual abstraction from the contemplation
of the hardness of their government. Indeed, it is difficult
to conceive how so good a people, with so good a king, so
well-disposed rulers in general, so genial a climate, so
fertile a soil, should be rendered so ineffectual for producing
human happiness by one single curse--that of a bad form of
government. But it is a fact in spite of the mildness of their
governors, the people are ground to powder by the vices of
the form of government. Of twenty millions of people supposed
to be in France, I am of opinion there are nineteen millions
more wretched, more accursed, in every circumstance of human
existence, than the most conspicuously wretched individual
of the whole United States. I beg your pardon for getting
into politics. I will add only one sentiment more of that
character--that is, nourish peace with their persons, but war
against their manners. Every step we take towards the adoption
of their manners is a step to perfect misery.
In a fit of homesickness, he writes to the Baron de Geismer, Sept. 6:
_To Baron de Geismer._
I am now of an age which does not easily accommodate itself to
new modes of living and new manners; and I am savage enough to
prefer the woods, the wilds and independence of Monticello,
to all the brilliant pleasures of this gay capital. I shall,
therefore, rejoin myself to my native country with new
attachments and exaggerated esteem for its advantages; for
though there is less wealth there, there is more freedom, more
ease, and less misery. I should like it better, however, if it
could tempt you once more to visit it; but that is not to be
expected. Be this as it may, and whether fortune means to allow
or deny me the pleasure of ever seeing you again, be assured
that the worth which gave birth to my attachment, and which
still animates it, will continue to keep it up while we both
live, and that it is with sincerity I subscribe myself, etc.,
etc.
Early in the month of March of the following year (1786) Mr.
Jefferson went for a short while to England. Before leaving, he wrote
a letter of adieu to his daughter Martha, then at school in a convent
in Paris. The following is an extract from this letter:
_To Martha Jefferson._--[_Extract._]
Paris, March 6th, 1786.
I need not tell you what pleasure it gives me to see you
improve in every thing useful and agreeable. The more you learn
the more I love you; and I rest the happiness of my life on
seeing you beloved by all the world, which you will be sure
to be, if to a good heart you join those accomplishments so
peculiarly pleasing in your sex. Adieu, my dear child; lose no
moment in improving your head, nor any opportunity of exercising
your heart in benevolence.
The following letter to his sister proves him to have been as devoted
and thoughtful a brother as father:
_To Ann S. Jefferson._
London, April 22d, 1786.
My dear Nancy--Being called here for a short time, and finding
that I could get some articles on terms here of which I thought
you might be in want, I have purchased them for you. They are
two pieces of linen, three gowns, and some ribbon. They are done
up in paper, sealed, and packed in a trunk, in which I have
put some other things for Colonel Nicholas Lewis. They will of
course go to him, and he will contrive them to you. I heard
from Patsy a few days ago; she was well. I left her in France,
as my stay here was to be short. I hope my dear Polly is on
her way to me. I desired you always to apply to Mr. Lewis for
what you should want; but should you at any time wish any thing
particular from France, write to me and I will send it to you.
Doctor Currie can always forward your letters. Pray remember
me to my sisters Carr and Bolling, to Mr. Bolling and their
families, and be assured of the sincerity with which I am, my
dear Nancy, your affectionate brother,
TH. JEFFERSON.
While in England, Jefferson visited many places of interest there,
and kept a short journal, of which we give the heading, and from
which we make one quotation:
_Extract from Journal._
A TOUR TO SOME OF THE GARDENS OF ENGLAND.
_Memorandums made on a Tour to some of the Gardens in England,
described by Whately in his Book on Gardening._
While his descriptions, in point of style, are models of perfect
elegance and classical correctness, they are as remarkable for
their exactness. I always walked over the gardens with his book
in my hand, examined with attention the particular spots which
he described, found them so justly characterized by him as to be
easily recognized, and saw with wonder that his fine imagination
had never been able to seduce him from the truth. My inquiries
were directed chiefly to such practical things as might enable
me to estimate the expense of making and maintaining a garden
in that style. My journey was in the months of March and April,
1786....
_Blenheim._--Twenty-five hundred acres, of which two hundred
is garden, one hundred and fifty water, twelve kitchen-garden,
and the rest park. Two hundred people employed to keep it in
order, and to make alterations and additions. About fifty of
these employed in pleasure-grounds. The turf is mowed once in
ten days. In summer, about two thousand fallow-deer in the park,
and two or three thousand sheep. The palace of Henry II. was
remaining till taken down by Sarah, widow of the first Duke of
Marlborough. It was on a round spot levelled by art, near what
is now water, and but a little above it. The island was a part
of the high-road leading to the palace. Rosamond's Bower was
near where now is a little grove, about two hundred yards from
the palace. The well is near where the bower was. The water here
is very beautiful and very grand. The cascade from the lake
is a fine one; except this the garden has no great beauties.
It is not laid out in fine lawns and woods, but the trees are
scattered thinly over the ground, and every here and there small
thickets of shrubs, in oval raised beds, cultivated, and flowers
among the shrubs. The gravelled walks are broad; art appears
too much. There are but a few seats in it, and nothing of
architecture more dignified. There is no one striking position
in it. There has been great addition to the length of the river
since Whately wrote.
In a letter written, after his return to Paris, to his old friend,
John Page, of Virginia, Mr. Jefferson speaks thus of England:
_To John Page._
I returned but three or four days ago from a two months' trip
to England. I traversed that country much, and must own both
town and country fell short of my expectations. Comparing it
with this, I have found a much greater proportion of barrens, a
soil, in other parts, not naturally so good as this, not better
cultivated, but better manured, and therefore more productive.
This proceeds from the practice of long leases there, and short
ones here. The laboring people are poorer here than in England.
They pay about one half of their produce in rent, the English
in general about one third. The gardening in that country is
the article in which it excels all the earth. I mean their
pleasure-gardening. This, indeed, went far beyond my ideas. The
city of London, though handsomer than Paris, is not so handsome
as Philadelphia. Their architecture is in the most wretched
style I ever saw, not meaning to except America, where it is
bad, nor even Virginia, where it is worse than any other part
of America which I have seen. The mechanical arts in London are
carried to a wonderful perfection.
His faithful little pocket account-book informs us that he paid,
"for seeing house where Shakspeare was born, 1_s._; seeing his tomb,
1_s._; entertainment, 4_s._ 2_d._; servants, 2_s._"
In the fall of this year Jefferson, on behalf of the State of
Virginia, presented to the city authorities of Paris a bust of his
distinguished friend, the Marquis de Lafayette, which was inaugurated
with all due form and ceremony and placed in the Hôtel de Ville. A
few months later he wrote the following letter:
_To Mrs. Trist._
Dear Madam--I have duly received your friendly letter of
July 24, and received it with great pleasure, as I do all
those you do me the favor to write me. If I have been long in
acknowledging the receipt, the last cause to which it should
be ascribed would be want of inclination. Unable to converse
with my friends in person, I am happy when I do it in black
and white. The true cause of the delay has been an unlucky
dislocation of my wrist, which has disabled me from writing
three months. I only begin to write a little now, but with
pain. I wish, while in Virginia, your curiosity had led you
on to James River. At Richmond you would have seen your old
friends, Mr. and Mrs. Randolph, and a little farther you would
have become acquainted with my friend, Mrs. Eppes, whom you
would have found among the most amiable women on earth. I doubt
whether you would ever have got away from her. This trip would
have made you better acquainted too with my lazy and hospitable
countrymen, and you would have found that their character has
some good traits mixed with some feeble ones. I often wish
myself among them, as I am here burning the candle of life
without present pleasure or future object. A dozen or twenty
years ago this scene would have amused me; but I am past the
age for changing habits. I take all the fault on myself, as
it is impossible to be among a people who wish more to make
one happy--a people of the very best character it is possible
for one to have. We have no idea in America of the real French
character; with some true samples we have had many false ones....
Living from day to day, without a plan for four-and-twenty hours
to come, I form no catalogue of impossible events. Laid up in
port for life, as I thought myself at one time, I am thrown out
to sea, and an unknown one to me. By so slender a thread do all
our plans of life hang! My hand denies itself farther, every
letter admonishing me, by a pain, that it is time to finish, but
my heart would go on in expressing to you all its friendship.
The happiest moments it knows are those in which it is pouring
forth its affections to a few esteemed characters. I will pray
you to write to me often. I wish to know that you enjoy health
and that you are happy. Present me in the most friendly terms to
your mother and brother, and be assured of the sincerity of the
esteem with which I am, dear madam, your affectionate friend and
humble servant,
TH. JEFFERSON.
Among the many pleasant friendships formed by Jefferson in Paris,
there was none that he prized more than that of Mr. and Mrs. Cosway.
Both were artists; but the husband was an Englishman, while the
wife was born under the more genial skies of Italy. Possessing all
that grace and beauty which seem to be the unfailing birthright of
an Italian, she united to a bright and well-cultivated intellect
great charms of manner and sweetness of disposition. Her Southern
warmth of manner, and the brilliancy of her wit and conversation,
were fascinations which few could resist, and which made her one of
the queens of Parisian society. In Jefferson she found a congenial
friend, and held his worth, his genius, and his learning in the
highest estimation. When her husband and herself left Paris, she
opened a correspondence with him, and it was at the beginning of this
correspondence that he addressed to her that beautiful and gracefully
written letter, called the "Dialogue between the Head and Heart,"
which is found in both editions of his published correspondence. Mrs.
Cosway's own letters are sprightly and entertaining. I have lying
before me the originals of some that she wrote to Jefferson, from
which I give the following extracts, only reminding the reader that
they are written in a language which to her was foreign, though the
Italian idiom adds grace and freshness to the sweet simplicity of
these letters. Many of them are without date.
_Mrs. Cosway to Thomas Jefferson._
Paris, ----, 1786.
You don't always judge by appearances, or it would be much to
my disadvantage this day, without deserving it; it has been the
day of contradiction. I meant to have seen you twice, and I have
appeared a monster for not having sent to know how you were the
whole day.[27] I have been more uneasy than I can express. This
morning my husband killed my project I had proposed to him, by
burying himself among pictures and forgetting the hours. Though
we were near your house, coming to see you, we were obliged
to come back, the time being much past that we were to be at
St. Cloud, to dine with the Duchess of Kingston. Nothing was
to hinder us from coming in the evening, but, alas! my good
intentions proved only a disturbance to your neighbors, and just
late enough to break the rest of all your servants, and perhaps
yourself. I came home with the disappointment of not having
been able to make my apologies _in propria persona_. I hope you
feel my distress instead of accusing me; the one I deserve,
the other not. We will come to see you to-morrow morning, if
nothing happens to prevent it. Oh! I wish you were well enough
to come to us to-morrow to dinner, and stay the evening. I
won't tell you what I shall have; temptations now are cruel
for your situation. I only mention my wishes. If the executing
them should be possible, your merit will be greater, as my
satisfaction the more flattered. I would serve you and help you
at dinner, and divert your pain after with good music. Sincerely
your friend,
MARIA COSWAY.
[27] Mr. Jefferson, the reader will remember, was at this time
suffering with his broken wrist.
_Mrs. Cosway to Thomas Jefferson._
I am very sorry indeed, and blame myself for having been the
cause of your pains in the wrist. Why would you go, and why was
I not more friendly to you, and less so to myself by preventing
your giving me the pleasure of your company? You repeatedly said
it would do you no harm. I felt interested and did not insist.
We shall go, I believe, this morning. Nothing seems ready, but
Mr. Cosway seems more disposed than I have seen him all this
time. I shall write to you from England; it is impossible to
be wanting to a person who has been so excessively obliging. I
don't attempt to make compliments--there can be none for you,
but I beg you will think us sensible to your kindness, and that
it will be with exquisite pleasure I shall remember the charming
days we have passed together, and shall long for next spring.
You will make me very happy if you would send a line to the
_poste restante_ at Antwerp, that I may know how you are.
Believe me, dear sir, your most obliged, affectionate servant,
MARIA COSWAY.
The letter from Mr. Jefferson to Mrs. Cosway containing the
"Dialogue between the Head and Heart," though too long to be
given here in full, is too beautiful to be omitted altogether. I
accordingly give the following extracts:
_Thomas Jefferson to Mrs. Cosway._
Paris, October 12, 1786.
My dear Madam--Having performed the last sad office of handing
you into your carriage at the Pavillon de St. Denis, and seen
the wheels get actually in motion, I turned on my heel and
walked, more dead than alive, to the opposite door, where my
own was awaiting me. M. Danguerville was missing. He was sought
for, found, and dragged down stairs. We were crammed into the
carriage like recruits for the Bastile, and not having soul
enough to give orders to the coachman, he presumed Paris our
destination, and drove off. After a considerable interval,
silence was broken, with a "_Je suis vraiment affligé du depart
de ces bons gens_." This was a signal for a mutual confession of
distress. He began immediately to talk of Mr. and Mrs. Cosway,
of their goodness, their talents, their amiability; and though
we spoke of nothing else, we seemed hardly to have entered into
the matter, when the coachman announced the Rue St. Denis,
and that we were opposite M. Danguerville's. He insisted on
descending there and traversing a short passage to his lodgings.
I was carried home. Seated by my fireside, solitary and sad, the
following dialogue took place between my Head and my Heart.
_Head._ Well, friend, you seem to be in a pretty trim.
_Heart._ I am, indeed, the most wretched of all earthly beings.
Overwhelmed with grief, every fibre of my frame distended beyond
its natural powers to bear, I would willingly meet whatever
catastrophe should leave me no more to feel, or to fear....
_Head._ It would have been happy for you if my diagrams and
crotchets had gotten you to sleep on that day, as you are
pleased to say they eternally do.... While I was occupied with
these objects, you were dilating with your new acquaintances,
and contriving how to prevent a separation from them. Every soul
of you had an engagement for the day. Yet all these were to be
sacrificed, that you might dine together. Lying messages were to
be dispatched into every quarter of the city, with apologies for
your breach of engagement. You, particularly, had the effrontery
to send word to the Duchess Danville, that on the moment we were
setting out to dine with her, dispatches came to hand which
required immediate attention. You wanted me to invent a more
ingenious excuse, but I knew you were getting into a scrape,
and I would have nothing to do with it. Well; after dinner to
St. Cloud, from St. Cloud to Ruggieri's, from Ruggieri's to
Krumfoltz; and if the day had been as long as a Lapland summer
day, you would still have contrived means among you to have
filled it.
_Heart._ Oh! my dear friend, how you have revived me, by
recalling to my mind the transactions of that day! How well
I remember them all, and that when I came home at night, and
looked back to the morning, it seemed to have been a month
agone. Go on, then, like a kind comforter, and paint to me the
day we went to St. Germains. How beautiful was every object!
the Pont de Renilly, the hills along the Seine, the rainbows of
the machine of Marly, the terras of St. Germains, the chateaux,
the gardens, the statues of Marly, the pavilion of Lucienne.
Recollect, too, Madrid, Bagatelle, the King's Garden, the
Dessert. How grand the idea excited by the remains of such a
column. The spiral staircase, too, was beautiful....
_Heart._ God only knows what is to happen. I see nothing
impossible in that proposition:[28] and I see things wonderfully
contrived sometimes, to make us happy. Where could they find
such objects as in America for the exercise of their enchanting
art? especially the lady, who paints landscapes so inimitably.
She wants only subjects worthy of immortality to render her
pencil immortal. The Falling Spring, the Cascade of Niagara,
the Passage of the Potomac through the Blue Mountains, the
Natural Bridge; it is worth a voyage across the Atlantic to see
these objects; much more to paint, and make them, and thereby
ourselves, known to all ages. And our own dear Monticello--where
has Nature spread so rich a mantle under the eye?--mountains,
forests, rocks, rivers. With what majesty do we ride above the
storms! How sublime to look down into the workhouse of Nature,
to see her clouds, hail, snow, rain, thunder, all fabricated
at our feet! and the glorious sun, when rising as if out of
a distant water, just gilding the tops of the mountains, and
giving life to all nature! I hope in God no circumstance may
ever make either seek an asylum from grief!... Deeply practiced
in the school of affliction, the human heart knows no joy which
I have not lost, no sorrow of which I have not drunk! Fortune
can present no grief of unknown form to me! Who, then, can so
softly bind up the wound of another as he who has felt the same
wound himself?...
[28] That is, Mr. and Mrs. Cosway to visit America.
I thought this a favorable proposition whereon to rest the issue of
the dialogue. So I put an end to it by calling for my night-cap.
Methinks I hear you wish to Heaven I had called a little sooner, and
so spared you the ennui of such a sermon.... We have had incessant
rains since your departure. These make me fear for your health, as
well as that you had an uncomfortable journey. The same cause has
prevented me from being able to give you an account of your friends
here. This voyage to Fontainebleau will probably send the Count de
Moustier and the Marquis de Brehan to America. Danguerville promised
to visit me but has not done it yet. De la Tude comes sometimes to
take family soup with me, and entertains me with anecdotes of his
five-and-thirty years' imprisonment. How fertile is the mind of man,
which can make the Bastile and dungeon of Vincennes yield interesting
anecdotes! You know this was for making four verses on Madame De
Pompadour. But I think you told me you did not know the verses. They
were these:
"Sans ésprit, sans sentiment,
Sans être belle, ni neuve,
En France on peut avoir le premier amant:
Pompadour en est l'épreuve."
I have read the memoir of his three escapes. As to myself, my health
is good, except my wrist, which mends slowly, and my mind, which
mends not at all, but broods constantly over your departure. The
lateness of the season obliges me to decline my journey into the
South of France. Present me in the most friendly terms to Mr. Cosway,
and receive me into your own recollection with a partiality and
warmth, proportioned not to my own poor merit, but to the sentiments
of sincere affection and esteem, with which I have the honor to be,
my dear Madam, your most obedient, humble servant,
TH. JEFFERSON.
The following letter, written in a sprightly and artless style, will
be found more than usually interesting, from the allusion in it to
Sheridan's great speech in the trial of Warren Hastings--that scene
of which Macaulay's enchanted pen has left so brilliant a picture. A
few awkward expressions in this charming letter remind us that its
author wrote in a foreign language.
_Mrs. Cosway to Thomas Jefferson._
London, February 15th, 1788.
I have the pleasure of receiving two letters from you, and
though very short I must content myself, and lament much
the reason that deprived me of their usual length. I must
confess that the beginning of your correspondence has made me
an _enfant-gâtée_. I shall never learn to be reasonable in
my expectations, and shall feel disappointed whenever your
letters are not as long as the first was; thus you are the
occasion of a continual reproaching disposition in me. It is a
disagreeable one, and it will tease you into a hatred towards
me, notwithstanding the partiality you have had for me till now,
for nothing disobliges more than a dissatisfied mind, and that
my fault is occasioned by yourself you will be the most distant
to allow. I trust your friendship would wish to see me perfect
and mine to be so, but defects are, or are not, most conspicuous
according to the feelings which we have for the objects which
possess them....
I feel at present an inclination to make you an endless letter,
but have not yet determined what subject to begin with. Shall I
continue this reproaching style, quote all the whats and whys
out of Jeremiah's Lamentations, and then present you with some
outlines of Job for consolation? Of all torments, temptations,
and wearinesses, the female has always been the principal and
most powerful, and this is to be felt by you at present from my
pen. Are you to be painted in future ages, sitting solitary and
sad on the beautiful Monticello, tormented by the shadow of a
woman, who will present you a deformed rod, broken and twisted,
instead of the emblematical instrument belonging to the Muses,
held by Genius, inspired by Wit; and with which all that is
beautiful and happy can be described so as to entertain a mind
capable of the highest enjoyments?...
I have written this _in memoria_ of the many pages of scrawls
addressed to you by one whose good intentions repay you for your
beautiful allegories with such long, insipid chit-chat.[29]...
Allegories, however, are always far-fetched, and I don't like to
follow the subject, though I might find something which would
explain my ideas.
[29] An allusion to the "Dialogue between the Head and Heart."
Suppose I turn to the debates of Parliament? Were I a good
politician, I could entertain you much. What do you think of a
famous speech Sheridan has made, which lasted four hours, which has
astonished every body, and which has been the subject of conversation
and admiration of the whole town? Nothing has been talked of for
many days but this speech. The whole House applauded him at the
moment, each member complimented him when they rose, and Pitt made
him the highest encomiums. Only poor Mr. Hastings suffered for the
power of his eloquence, though nothing can be decided yet. Mr. H.
was with Mr. Cosway at the very moment the trial was going on; he
seemed perfectly easy--talking on a variety of subjects with great
tranquillity and cheerfulness. The second day he was the same, but
on the third seemed very much affected and agitated. All his friends
give him the greatest character of humanity, generosity, and feeling;
amiable in his manner, he seems, in short, totally different from the
disposition of cruelty they accuse him of. Turning from parliamentary
discussions, it is time to tell you that I have been reading with
great pleasure your descriptions of America;[30] it is written
by _you_, but Nature represents all the scenes to me in reality,
therefore do not take any thing to yourself; I must refer to your
name to make it the more valuable to me, but _she_ is your rival--you
her usurper. Oh! how I wish myself in those delightful places! those
enchanted grottoes! those magnificent mountains, rivers, etc., etc.,
etc.! Why am I not a man, that I might set out immediately, satisfy
my curiosity, and indulge my sight with wonders?
[30] Meaning, doubtless, his "Notes on Virginia."
I go to very few parties. I have a dislike for them, and I have grown
so excessively indolent that I do not go out for months together. All
the morning I paint whatever presents itself most pleasing to me.
Sometimes I have beautiful objects to paint from, and add historical
characters to make them more interesting. Female and infantine
beauty is the most perfect to see. Sometimes I indulge in those
melancholy subjects in which History often represents herself--the
horrid, the grand, the sublime, the sentimental, or the pathetic. I
attempt, I exercise in them all, and end by being witness of my own
disappointment and incapacity for executing the Poet, the Historian,
or the conceptions of my own imagination. Thus the mornings are spent
regretting they are not longer, to have more time to attempt again
in search of better success, or thinking they have been too long, as
they have afforded me many moments of uneasiness and anxiety, and a
testimony of my not being able to do any thing.
I devote my evenings to music, and then I am much visited by the
first Professors, who come to play, often every evening, something
new, and are all perfect in their kind. To complete the pleasure, a
small society of agreeable friends frequently come to see me, and
in this manner you see that I am more attached to my home than to
going in search of amusement out, where there are nothing but crowded
assemblies, uncomfortable heat, and not the least pleasure in meeting
any body, not being able to enjoy any conversation. The Operas are
very bad, tho' Zubenelli and Madame Mosa are the first singers; the
dancers, too, are very bad; all this I say from report, as I have not
been yet. Pray tell me something about Madame De Polignac; they make
a great deal about it here; we hardly hear any thing else, and the
stories are so different from one another that it is impossible to
guess the real one. She is expected in England.
I send this letter by a gentleman whom I think you will like. He
is a Spaniard. I am partial to that nation, as I know several who
are very agreeable. He is going to Paris as Secretary of Embassy at
that Court. He has travelled much, and talks well. If I should be
happy enough to come again in the summer to Paris, I hope we shall
pass many agreeable days. I am in a million fears about it; Mr.
Cosway still keeps to his intentions, but how many chances from our
inclinations to the gratification of our wishes. Poor D'Ancarville
has been very ill. I received a long letter from him appointing
himself my _correspondent_ at Paris. I know a gentleman who causes my
faith to be weak on this occasion, for _he_ flattered me with hopes
that I have seen fail; nevertheless I have accepted this offer, and
shall see if I find a second disappointment.
Is it not time to finish my letter? Perhaps I might go on, but I must
send this to the gentleman who is to take it.
I hope you are quite well by this time, and that your hand will tell
me so by a line. I must be reasonable, but give me leave to remind
you how much pleasure you will give by remembering sometimes with
friendship one who will be as sensible and grateful of it as is,
yours sincerely,
MARIA COSWAY.
In a letter to Colonel Edward Carrington, written early in January,
1787, Jefferson thus notices the meeting of the Notables:
_To Colonel Carrington._
In my letter to Mr. Jay I have mentioned the meeting of the
Notables, appointed for the 29th instant. It is now put off to
the 7th or 8th of next month. This event, which will hardly
excite any attention in America, is deemed here the most
important one which has taken place in their civil line during
the present century. Some promise their country great things
from it, some nothing. Our friend De Lafayette was placed on the
list originally. Afterwards his name disappeared; but finally
was reinstated. This shows that his character here is not
considered as an indifferent one; and that it excites agitation.
His education in our school has drawn on him a very jealous eye
from a court whose principles are the most absolute despotism.
But I hope he has nearly passed his crisis. The King, who is a
good man, is favorably disposed towards him; and he is supported
by powerful family connections, and by the public good-will. He
is the youngest man of the Notables, except one whose office
placed him on the list.
In a letter written to Madison a few days later, he gives a few
sketches of character which we quote, only reminding the reader of
Jefferson's great intimacy with Madison, to whom he consequently
wrote more freely of men and measures than to any one else.
_To James Madison._
Paris, January 30th, 1787.
As you have now returned to Congress, it will become of
importance that you should form a just estimate of certain
public characters, on which, therefore, I will give you such
notes as my knowledge of them has furnished me with. You will
compare them with the materials you are otherwise possessed of,
and decide on a view of the whole.
You know the opinion I formerly entertained of my friend Mr.
Adams.... A seven months' intimacy with him here, and as many
weeks in London, have given me opportunities of studying him
closely. He is vain, irritable, and a bad calculator of the
force and probable effect of the motives which govern men. This
is all the ill which can possibly be said of him. He is as
disinterested as the Being who made him; he is profound in his
views and accurate in his judgment, except where knowledge of
the world is necessary to form a judgment. He is so amiable,
that I pronounce you will love him if ever you become acquainted
with him. He would be, as he was, a great man in Congress....
The Marquis de Lafayette is a most valuable auxiliary to me. His
zeal is unbounded, and his weight with those in power great. His
education having been merely military, commerce was an unknown
field to him. But, his good sense enabling him to comprehend
perfectly whatever is explained to him, his agency has been
very efficacious. He has a great deal of sound genius, is well
remarked by the king, and is rising in popularity. He has
nothing against him but a suspicion of republican principles. I
think he will one day be of the ministry. His foible is a canine
appetite for popularity and fame; but he will get over this.
The Count de Vergennes is ill. The possibility of his recovery
renders it dangerous for us to express a doubt of it; but he is
in danger. He is a great minister in European affairs, but has
very imperfect ideas of our institutions, and no confidence in
them. His devotion to the principles of pure despotism renders
him unaffectionate to our governments. But his fear of England
makes him value us as a make-weight. He is cool, reserved
in political conversations, but free and familiar on other
subjects, and a very attentive, agreeable person to do business
with. It is impossible to have a clearer, better organized head;
but age has chilled his heart.
Nothing should be spared on our part to attach this country to
us. It is the only one on which we can rely for support under
every event. Its inhabitants love us more, I think, than they
do any other nation on earth. This is very much the effect of
the good dispositions with which the French officers returned.
In a former letter I mentioned to you the dislocation of my
wrist. I can make not the least use of it except for the single
article of writing, though it is going on five months since the
accident happened. I have great anxieties lest I should never
recover any considerable use of it. I shall, by the advice of
my surgeons, set out in a fortnight for the waters of Aix, in
Provence. I chose these out of several they proposed to me,
because if they fail to be effectual, my journey will not be
useless altogether. It will give me an opportunity of examining
the canal of Languedoc, and of acquiring knowledge of that
species of navigation, which may be useful hereafter.... I shall
be absent between two and three months, unless any thing happens
to recall me here sooner; which may always be effected in ten
days, in whatever part of my route I may be.
In speaking of characters, I omitted those of Rayneval and
Hennin, the two eyes of the Count de Vergennes. The former is
the most important character, because possessing the most of
the confidence of the Count. He is rather cunning than wise,
his views of things being neither great nor liberal. He governs
himself by principles which he has learned by rote, and is fit
only for the details of execution. His heart is susceptible of
little passions, but not of good ones. He is brother-in-law to
M. Gerard, from whom he received disadvantageous impressions of
us which can not be effaced. He has much duplicity. Hennin is
a philosopher, sincere, friendly, liberal, learned, beloved by
every body; the other by nobody. I think it a great misfortune
that the United States are in the department of the former. As
particulars of this kind may be useful to you in your present
situation, I may hereafter continue the chapter. I know it will
be safely lodged in your discretion. I send you by Colonel
Franks your pocket-telescope, walking-stick, and chemical-box.
The two former could not be combined together. The latter could
not be had in the form you referred to. Having a great desire
to have a portable copying-machine, and being satisfied, from
some experiments, that the principle of the large machine might
be applied in a small one, I planned one when in England, and
had it made. It answers perfectly. I have since set a workman
to making them here, and they are in such demand that he has
his hands full. Being assured that you will be pleased to have
one, when you shall have tried its convenience, I send you one
by Colonel Franks. The machine costs ninety-six livres, the
appendages twenty-four livres, and I send you paper and ink for
twelve livres; in all one hundred and thirty-two livres. There
is a printed paper of directions; but you must expect to make
many essays before you succeed perfectly. A soft brush like a
shaving-brush is more convenient than the sponge. You can get
as much paper and ink as you please from London. The paper
costs a guinea a ream. I am, dear sir, with sincere esteem and
affection, your most humble and obedient servant,
TH. JEFFERSON.
The following charmingly written letter to one of his lady friends
gives a spirited picture of the life of a Parisian belle:
_To Mrs. Bingham._
Paris, February 7th, 1787.
I know, Madam, that the twelvemonth is not yet expired; but
it will be, nearly, before this will have the honor of being
put into your hands. You are then engaged to tell me, truly
and honestly, whether you do not find the tranquil pleasures
of America preferable to the empty bustle of Paris. For to
what does the bustle tend? At eleven o'clock it is day,
_chez madame_. The curtains are drawn. Propped on bolsters
and pillows, and her head scratched into a little order, the
bulletins of the sick are read, and the billets of the well. She
writes to some of her acquaintances, and receives the visits
of others. If the morning is not very thronged, she is able to
get out and hobble around the cage of the Palais Royal; but
she must hobble quickly, for the coiffeur's turn is come; and
a tremendous turn it is! Happy if he does not make her arrive
when dinner is half over! The torpitude of digestion a little
passed, she flutters for half an hour through the streets,
by way of paying visits, and then to the spectacles. These
finished, another half-hour is devoted to dodging in and out
of the doors of her very sincere friends, and away to supper.
After supper, cards; and after cards, bed--to rise at noon the
next day, and to tread, like a mill-horse, the same trodden
circle over again. Thus the days of life are consumed, one by
one, without an object beyond the present moment; ever flying
from the ennui of that, yet carrying it with us; eternally in
pursuit of happiness, which keeps eternally before us. If death
or bankruptcy happen to trip us out of the circle, it is matter
for the buzz of the evening, and is completely forgotten by the
next morning. In America, on the other hand, the society of
your husband, the fond cares for the children, the arrangements
of the house, the improvements of the grounds, fill every
moment with a useful and healthy activity. Every exertion is
encouraging, because to present amusement it joins the promise
of some future good. The intervals of leisure are filled by
the society of real friends, whose affections are not thinned
to cobweb, by being spread over a thousand objects. This is
the picture, in the light it is presented to my mind; now let
me have it in yours. If we do not concur this year, we shall
the next; or if not then, in a year or two more. You see I am
determined not to suppose myself mistaken.
To let you see that Paris is not changed in its pursuits since
it was honored with your presence, I send you its monthly
history. But this relating only to the embellishments of their
persons, I must add, that those of the city go on well also. A
new bridge, for example, is begun at the Place Louis Quinze; the
old ones are clearing of the rubbish which encumbered them in
the form of houses; new hospitals erecting; magnificent walls of
inclosure, and custom-houses at their entrances, etc., etc. I
know of no interesting change among those whom you have honored
with your acquaintance, unless Monsieur de Saint James was of
that number. His bankruptcy, and taking asylum in the Bastile,
have furnished matter of astonishment. His garden at the Pont
de Neuilly, where, on seventeen acres of ground, he had laid
out fifty thousand louis, will probably sell for somewhat less
money. The workmen of Paris are making rapid strides towards
English perfection. Would you believe that, in the course of the
last two years, they have learned even to surpass their London
rivals in some articles? Commission me to have you a phaeton
made, and if it is not as much handsomer than a London one as
that is than a fiacre, send it back to me. Shall I fill the
box with caps, bonnets, etc.?--not of my own choosing, but--I
was going to say--of Mademoiselle Bertin's, forgetting for the
moment that she too is bankrupt. They shall be chosen, then,
by whom you please; or, if you are altogether nonplused by her
eclipse, we will call an Assemblée des Notables, to help you out
of the difficulty, as is now the fashion. In short, honor me
with your commands of any kind, and they shall be faithfully
executed. The packets now established from Havre to New York
furnish good opportunities of sending whatever you wish.
I shall end where I began, like a Paris day, reminding you of
your engagement to write me a letter of respectable length,
an engagement the more precious to me, as it has furnished me
the occasion, after presenting my respects to Mr. Bingham, of
assuring you of the sincerity of those sentiments of esteem and
respect with which I have the honor to be, dear Madam, your most
obedient and most humble servant,
TH. JEFFERSON.
_Mrs. Bingham to Thomas Jefferson._
June 1st, 1787.
I am too much flattered by the honor of your letter from Paris
not to acknowledge it by the earliest opportunity, and to assure
you that I am very sensible of your attentions. The candor with
which you express your sentiments merits a sincere declaration
of mine. I agree with you that many of the fashionable pursuits
of the Parisian ladies are rather frivolous, and become
uninteresting to a reflective mind; but the picture you have
exhibited is rather overcharged; you have thrown a strong
light upon all that is ridiculous in their characters, and you
have buried their good qualities in the shade. It shall be my
task to bring them forward, or at least to attempt it. The
state of society in different countries requires corresponding
manners and qualifications. Those of the French women are by
no means calculated for the meridian of America, neither are
they adapted to render the sex so amiable or agreeable in the
English acceptation of those words. But you must confess that
they are more accomplished, and understand the intercourse of
society better, than in any other country. We are irresistibly
pleased with them, because they possess the happy art of making
us pleased with ourselves. Their education is of a higher cast,
and by great cultivation they procure a happy variety of genius,
which forms their conversation to please either the fop or the
philosopher.
In what other country can be found a Marquise de Coigny, who,
young and handsome, takes a lead in all the fashionable
dissipations of life, and at more serious moments collects at
her house an assembly of the literati, whom she charms with her
knowledge and her _bel esprit_. The women of France interfere
with the politics of the country, and often give a decided turn
to the fate of empires. Either by the gentle arts of persuasion,
or the commanding force of superior attractions and address,
they have obtained that rank and consideration in society which
the sex are entitled to, and which they in vain contend for in
other countries. We are therefore bound in gratitude to admire
and revere them for asserting our privileges, as much as the
friends of the liberties of mankind reverence the successful
struggles of the American patriots.
The agreeable resources of Paris must certainly please and
instruct every class of characters. The arts of elegance are
there considered as essential, and are carried to a state of
perfection, and there the friend of art is continually gratified
by the admiration for works of taste. I have the pleasure of
knowing you too well to doubt of your subscribing to this
opinion. With respect to my native country, I assure you that
I am fervently attached to it, as well as to my friends and
connections in it; there, perhaps, there is more sincerity in
professions, and a stronger desire of rendering real services,
and when the mouth expresses the heart speaks.
I am sensible that I shall tire you to death with the length of
this letter, and had almost forgotten that you are in Paris,
and that every instant of your time is valuable, and might be
much better employed than I can possibly do it. However, I shall
reserve a further examination of this subject to the period when
I can have the happiness of meeting you, when we will again
resume it. I feel myself under many obligations for your kind
present of _les modes de Paris_. They have furnished our ladies
with many hints for the decoration of their persons, and I have
informed them to whom they are indebted. I shall benefit by your
obliging offer of service, whenever I shall have occasion for
a fresh importation of fashions; at present I am well stocked,
having lately received a variety of articles from Paris.
Be so kind as to remember me with affection to Miss Jefferson.
Tell her she is the envy of all the young ladies in America,
and that I should wish nothing so much as to place my little
girl under her inspection and protection, should she not leave
Paris before I revisit it. I shall hope for the pleasure of
hearing from you, and if you accompany another book of fashions
with any new operas or comedies you will infinitely oblige me.
It is quite time I bade you adieu; but remember this first of
June I am constant to my former opinion, nor can I believe that
any length of time will change it. I am determined to have some
merit in your eyes, if not for taste and judgment, at least for
consistency. Allow me to say, my dear sir, that I am sincerely
and respectfully yours,
A. BINGHAM.
CHAPTER VI.
Death of Count de Vergennes.--Jefferson is ordered to Aix by
his Surgeon.--Death of his youngest Child.--Anxiety to have his
Daughter Mary with him.--Her Reluctance to leave Virginia.-- Her
Letters to and from her Father.--Jefferson's Letters to Mrs.
and Mr. Eppes.--To Lafayette.--To the Countess de Tesse.-- To
Lafayette.--Correspondence with his Daughter Martha.
In a letter written to Mr. Jay on the 23d of February, 1787, Mr.
Jefferson says:
The event of the Count de Vergennes's death, of which I had
the honor to inform you in a letter of the 4th instant, the
appointment of the Count Montmorin, and the propriety of my
attending at his first audience, which will be on the 27th, have
retarded the journey I proposed a few days.
The journey above mentioned was a trip to Aix, whither he was ordered
by his surgeon, in order to try the effect of its mineral-waters on
his dislocated wrist. In the letters which he wrote to his daughter
Martha, while absent on this occasion, he alludes frequently to his
youngest daughter, Mary, or Polly, as she was sometimes called. As I
have before mentioned, she and her younger sister, Lucy, were left
by their father in Virginia, with their kind uncle and aunt, Mr. and
Mrs. Eppes. Lucy died in the fall of the year 1784, and her death was
announced to her father in a letter from Mr. Eppes, who writes:
I am sorry to inform you that my fears about the welfare of our
children, which I mentioned in my last, were too well founded.
Yours, as well as our dear little Lucy, have fallen sacrifices
to the most horrible of all disorders, the whooping-cough. They
both suffered as much pain, indeed more than ever I saw two
of their ages experience. We were happy in having had every
experience this country afforded; however, they were beyond the
reach of medicine.[31]
[31] With the tender sensibility of a mother, Mrs. Eppes
announced this event to Jefferson in the following touching
letter:
Eppington, October 13th, 1784.
Dear Sir--It is impossible to paint the anguish of my heart on
this melancholy occasion. A most unfortunate whooping-cough has
deprived you and us of two sweet Lucys within a week. Ours was
the first that fell a sacrifice. She was thrown into violent
convulsions, lingered out a week, and then died. Your dear angel
was confined a week to her bed, her sufferings were great, though
nothing like a fit; she retained her senses perfectly, called me
a few minutes before she died and asked distinctly for water.
Dear Polly has had it most violently, though always kept about,
and is now quite recovered.... Life is scarcely supportable
under such severe afflictions. Be so good as to remember me
most affectionately to my dear Patsy, and beg she will excuse
my not writing till the gloomy scene is a little forgotten. I
sincerely hope you are both partaking of every thing that can in
the smallest degree entertain and make you happy. Our warmest
affections attend you both.
Your sincere friend, E. EPPES.
The death of this child was felt keenly by Jefferson. After
getting established in Paris, he became impatient to have his
little daughter Mary with him. She did not join him, however,
until the year 1787, her uncle and aunt being loath to part with
her, and no good opportunity occurring for getting her across
the Atlantic. The child herself could not bear the thought of
being torn from the kind uncle and aunt, whom she had learned to
love so devotedly, to go to a strange land. I have lying before
me a package of her letters to her father, whose sweet, childish
prattle must be excuse enough for their appearing here, trivial
though they seem. The first was written for her by her aunt. The
others are in the huge, grotesque-looking letters of a child just
beginning to write. The following was written before her father
had left Philadelphia:
_Mary Jefferson to Thomas Jefferson._
EPPINGTON, APRIL 11TH, 1784.
My dear Papa--I want to know what day you are going to come and
see me, and if you will bring sister Patsy and my baby with you.
I was mighty glad of my sashes, and gave Cousin Bolling one. I
can almost read.
Your affectionate daughter,
POLLY JEFFERSON.
It is touching to see how gently her father tries to reconcile her,
in the following letter, to her separation from her good uncle and
aunt, and how he attempts to lure her to France with the promise that
she shall have in Paris "as many dolls and playthings" as she wants.
_Thomas Jefferson to Mary Jefferson._
Paris, Sept. 20th, 1785.
My dear Polly--I have not received a letter from you since
I came to France. If you knew how much I love you and what
pleasure the receipt of your letters gave me at Philadelphia,
you would have written to me, or at least have told your aunt
what to write, and her goodness would have induced her to take
the trouble of writing it. I wish so much to see you, that I
have desired your uncle and aunt to send you to me. I know, my
dear Polly, how sorry you will be, and ought to be, to leave
them and your cousins; but your sister and myself can not live
without you, and after a while we will carry you back again to
see your friends in Virginia. In the mean time you shall be
taught here to play on the harpsichord, to draw, to dance, to
read and talk French, and such other things as will make you
more worthy of the love of your friends; but above all things,
by our care and love of you, we will teach you to love us
more than you will do if you stay so far from us. I have had
no opportunity since Colonel Le Maire went, to send you any
thing; but when you come here you shall have as many dolls and
playthings as you want for yourself, or to send to your cousins
whenever you shall have opportunities. I hope you are a very
good girl, that you love your uncle and aunt very much, and are
very thankful to them for all their goodness to you; that you
never suffer yourself to be angry with any body, that you give
your playthings to those who want them, that you do whatever any
body desires of you that is right, that you never tell stories,
never beg for any thing, mind your books and your work when
your aunt tells you, never play but when she permits you, nor
go where she forbids you; remember, too, as a constant charge,
not to go out without your bonnet, because it will make you very
ugly, and then we shall not love you so much. If you always
practice these lessons we shall continue to love you as we do
now, and it is impossible to love you any more. We shall hope to
have you with us next summer, to find you a very good girl, and
to assure you of the truth of our affection for you. Adieu, my
dear child. Yours affectionately,
TH. JEFFERSON.
_Mary Jefferson to Thomas Jefferson._
Dear Papa--I long to see you, and hope that you and sister Patsy
are well; give my love to her and tell her that I long to see
her, and hope that you and she will come very soon to see us. I
hope that you will send me a doll. I am very sorry that you have
sent for me. I don't want to go to France, I had rather stay
with Aunt Eppes. Aunt Carr, Aunt Nancy and Cousin Polly Carr are
here. Your most happy and dutiful daughter,
POLLY JEFFERSON.
Dear Papa--I should be very happy to see you, but I can not go
to France, and hope that you and sister Patsy are well. Your
affectionate daughter. Adieu.
MARY JEFFERSON.
Dear Papa--I want to see you and sister Patsy, but you must come
to Uncle Eppes's house.
POLLY JEFFERSON.
Mr. Jefferson's anxieties about his little daughter crossing the
ocean, and his impatience to fold her once more in his arms, are
vividly portrayed in the following letter:
_Thomas Jefferson to Mrs. Eppes._
Paris, Sept. 22d, 1785.
Dear Madam--The Mr. Fitzhughs having staid here longer than they
expected, I have (since writing my letter of Aug. 30, to Mr.
Eppes) received one from Dr. Currie, of August 5, by which I
have the happiness to learn you are all well, and my Poll also.
Every information of this kind is like gaining another step, and
seems to say we "have got so far safe." Would to God the great
step was taken and taken safely; I mean that which is to place
her on this side of the Atlantic. No event of your life has put
it into your power to conceive how I feel when I reflect that
such a child, and so dear to me, is to cross the ocean, is to
be exposed to all the sufferings and risks, great and small, to
which a situation on board a ship exposes every one. I drop my
pen at the thought--but she must come. My affections would leave
me balanced between the desire to have her with me, and the fear
of exposing her; but my reason tells me the dangers are not
great, and the advantages to her will be considerable.
I send by Mr. Fitzhugh some garden and flower seed and bulbs;
the latter, I know, will fall in your department. I wish the
opportunity had admitted the sending more, as well as some
things for the children; but Mr. Fitzhugh being to pass a long
road both here and in America, I could not ask it of him. Pray
write to me, and write me long letters. Currie has sent me one
worth a great deal for the details of small news it contains. I
mention this as an example for you. You always know facts enough
which would be interesting to me to fill sheets of paper. I pray
you, then, to give yourself up to that kind of inspiration, and
to scribble on as long as you recollect any thing unmentioned,
without regarding whether your lines are straight or your
letters even. Remember me affectionately to Mr. Skipwith, and
to the little ones of both houses; kiss dear Polly for me, and
encourage her for the journey. Accept assurances of unchangeable
affection from, dear Madam, your sincere friend and servant,
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