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._]