XXIX
_THE PRESIDENT'S SECRETARY_
The funeral bells of Washington tolled in 1800. President Washingtonwas dead. Napoleon was first Consul of France. The old social systemsof Europe were tottering. The new social system of America wasbuilding. The experiment of self-government had triumphed, and out ofthe storm-tossed seas still grandly rode the Constitution. Out of thebirth of parties and political excitement, Thomas Jefferson came tothe Presidency.
The stately mansion of Monticello was ablaze with light. Candles litup every window. Not only Monticello, but all Charlottesville wasilluminated, with torches, bonfires, tar-barrels. Friends gatheredwith congratulations and greeting.
As Washington had turned with regret from the banks of the Potomac tofill the first presidency, and as Patrick Henry, the gifted, chafed inCongressional halls, so now Jefferson with equal regret left theshades of Monticello.
"No pageant shall give the lie to my democratic principles," he said,as in plain citizen clothes with a few of his friends he repaired tothe Capital and took the oath of office. And by his side, withluminous eyes and powdered hair, sat Aaron Burr, the Vice-President.
Jefferson, in the simplicity of his past, had penned everything forhimself. Now he began to feel the need of a secretary. There were manyapplicants, but the President's eye turned toward the lad who nineyears before had begged to go with Michaux to the West.
"The appointment to the Presidency of the United States has renderedit necessary for me to have a private secretary," he wrote toMeriwether Lewis. "Your knowledge of the western country, of the armyand of all its interests, has rendered it desirable that you shouldbe engaged in that office. In point of profit it has little to offer,the salary being only five hundred dollars, but it would make you knowand be known to characters of influence in the affairs of ourcountry."
Meriwether was down on the Ohio. In two weeks his reply came back fromPittsburg. "I most cordially acquiesce, and with pleasure accept theoffice, nor were further motives necessary to induce my compliancethan that you, sir, should conceive that in the discharge of theduties, I could be serviceable to my country as well as useful toyourself."
As soon as he could wind up his affairs, Captain Lewis, one of thehandsomest men in the army, appeared in queue and cocked hat, silkstockings and knee buckles, at the President's house in wide and windyWashington to take up his duties as private secretary.
From his earliest recollection, Meriwether Lewis had known ThomasJefferson, as Governor in the days of Tarleton's raid, and as aprivate farmer and neighbour at Monticello. After Meriwether's mothermarried Captain Marks and moved to Georgia, Jefferson went to France,and his uncle, Colonel Nicholas Lewis, looked after the finances ofthe great estate at Monticello.
Under the guardianship of that uncle, Meriwether attended the schoolof Parson Maury, the same school where Jefferson had been fitted forcollege.
He remembered, too, that day when Jefferson came back from France andall the slaves at Monticello rushed out and drew the carriage up byhand, crowding around, kissing his hands and feet, blubbering,laughing, crying. How the slaves fell back to admire the young ladiesthat had left as mere children! Martha, a stately girl of seventeen,and little Maria, in her eleventh year, a dazzling vision of beauty.Ahead of everybody ran the gay and sunny Jack Eppes to escort hislittle sweetheart.
Both daughters were married now, and with families of their own, somore than ever Jefferson depended on Meriwether Lewis. They occupiedthe same chamber and lived in a degree of intimacy that perhaps hassubsisted between no other president and his private secretary.
With his favourite Chickasaw horses, Arcturus and Wildair, thePresident rode two hours every day, Meriwether often with him,directing the workmen on the new Capitol, unfinished still amid stoneand masonry tools.
Washington himself chose the site, within an amphitheatre of hillsoverlooking the lordly Potomac where he camped as a youth onBraddock's expedition. Washington, Jefferson, Madison, riding ever toand from Mount Vernon, Monticello, and Montpelier, discussed the plansand set the architects to work. Now it fell to Jefferson to carry onwhat Washington had so well begun.
Thomas Jefferson was a social man, and loved a throng about him. Thevast and vacant halls of the White House would have been dreary butfor the retinue of guests. Eleven servants had been brought fromMonticello, and half-a-dozen from Paris,--Petit, the butler, M.Julien, the cook, a French _chef_, Noel, the kitchen boy, and JosephRapin, the steward. Every morning Rapin went to the Georgetown market,and Meriwether Lewis gave him his orders.
"For I need you, Meriwether, not only for the public, but as well forthe private concerns of the household," said the Presidentaffectionately. "And I depend on you to assist in entertaining."
"At the head of the table, please," said the President, handing inMrs. Madison. "I shall have to request you to act as mistress of theWhite House."
In his own youth Jefferson had cherished an affection for DollyMadison's mother, the beautiful Mary Coles, so it became not difficultto place her daughter in the seat of honour.
There were old-style Virginia dinners, with the art of Paris, for everafter his foreign experience Jefferson insisted on training his ownservants in the French fashion. At four they dined, and sat and talkedtill night, Congressmen, foreigners, and all sorts of people, with theever-present cabinet.
James Madison, Secretary of State, was a small man, easy, dignified,and fond of conversation, with pale student face like a youngtheologian just out of the cloister. Dolly herself powdered his hair,tied up his queue, and fastened his stock; very likely, too,prescribed his elegant knee breeches and buckles and black silkstockings, swans' down buff vest, long coat, and lace ruffles. "A verytasty old-school gentleman," said the guests of the White House.
Albert Gallatin, Secretary of the Treasury, born and bred a scholar,was younger than either Madison or Jefferson, well read, with aslightly Genevan accent, and a prominent nose that marked him a man ofaffairs.
But everything revolved about Jefferson, in the village of Washingtonand in the country at large. Next to General Washington he filled thelargest space in public esteem.
Slim, tall, and bony, in blue coat faced with yellow, green velveteenbreeches, red plush waist-coat and elaborate shirt frill, longstockings and slippers with silver buckles,--just so had he been eversince his Parisian days, picturesquely brilliant in dress and speech,talking, talking, ever genially at the White House.
Before the "Mayflower" brought the first Puritans to New England theJeffersons had settled in Virginia. The President's mother was aRandolph of patrician blood. A hundred servants attended in IshamRandolph's, her father's house. Peter Jefferson, his father, was ademocrat of democrats, a man of the people. Perhaps Thomas had feltthe sting of Randolph pride that a daughter had married a homelyrawboned Jefferson, but all the man in him rose up for that Jeffersonfrom whom he was sprung. Thomas Jefferson, the son, was just such athin homely rawboned youth as his father had been. Middle age broughthim good looks, old age made him venerable, an object of adoration toa people.
Always up before sunrise, he routed out Meriwether. There weremessages to send, or letters to write, or orders for Rapin before theround disk of day reddened the Potomac.
No woman ever brushed his gray neglected hair tied so loosely in aclub behind; it was Jeffersonian to have it neglected and tumbled allover his head. Everybody went to the White House for instruction,entertainment; and Jefferson--was Jefferson.
Of course he had his enemies, even there. Twice a month Colonel Burr,the Vice-President, the great anti-Virginian, dined at the WhiteHouse. Attractive in person, distinguished in manner, all looked uponColonel Burr as next in the line of Presidential succession. He cameriding back and forth between Washington and his New York residence atRichmond Hill, and with him the lovely Theodosia, the intimate friendof Dolly Madison and Mrs. Gallatin.
Lewis understood some of the bitter and deadly political controversiesthat were smothered now under the ever genial
conversation of thePresident, for Jefferson, the great apostle of popular sovereignty,could no more conceal his principles than he could conceal hispersonality. Everything he discussed,--science, politics, philosophy,art, music. None there were more widely read, none more travelled thanthe President.
But he dearly loved politics. Greater, perhaps, was Jefferson intheory than in execution. His eye would light with genius, as hepropounded his views.
"Science, did you say? The main object of all science is the freedomand happiness of man, and these are the sole objects of all legitimategovernment. Why, Washington himself hardly believed that so liberal agovernment as this could succeed, but he was resolved to give theexperiment a trial. And now, our people are throwing aside themonarchical and taking up the republican form, with as much ease aswould have attended their throwing off an old and putting on a newsuit of clothes. I am persuaded that no Constitution was ever beforeso well calculated as ours for extensive empire."
To Jefferson it had fallen to overthrow church establishment andentail and primogeniture in Virginia, innovations that were followedby all the rest of the States.
"At least," pleaded an opponent, "if the eldest may no longer inheritall the lands and all the slaves of his father, let him take a doubleshare."
"No," said Jefferson, "not until he can eat a double allowance offood and do a double allowance of work. Instead of an aristocracy ofwealth, I would make an opening for an aristocracy of virtue andtalent."
"But see to what Mr. Jefferson and his levelling system has broughtus," cried even John Randolph of Roanoke, as one after another of theestates of thousands of acres slid into the hands of the people.
He prohibited the importation of slaves, and, if he could have doneit, would have abolished slavery itself before it became the despairof a people.
"Franklin a great orator? Why, no, he never spoke in Congress morethan five minutes at a time, and then he related some anecdote whichapplied to the subject before the House. I have heard all thecelebrated orators of the National Assembly of France, but there wasnot one equal to Patrick Henry."
And then, confidentially, sometimes he told a tale of the Declarationof Independence. "I shall never cease to be grateful to John Adams,the colossus of that debate. While the discussion was going on,fatherly old Ben Franklin, seventy years old, leaning on his cane, satby my side, and comforted me with his jokes whenever the criticismswere unusually bitter. The Congress held its meetings near a liverystable. The members wore short breeches and thin silk stockings, andwith handkerchief in hand they were diligently employed in lashing theflies from their legs. So very vexatious was the annoyance, and to sogreat impatience did it arouse the sufferers, that they were only tooglad to sign the Declaration and fly from the scene."
Two visits every year Jefferson made to his little principality of twohundred inhabitants at Monticello, a short one early in the Spring anda longer one in the latter part of Summer, when he always took hisdaughter Martha and family from Edge Hill with him, for it would notseem home without Martha to superintend.
Here Jefferson had organised his slaves into a great industrialschool, had his own carpenters, cabinet-makers, shoe-makers, tailors,weavers, had a nail forge and made nails for his own and neighbouringestates,--his black mechanics were the best in Virginia. Even thefamily coach was made at Monticello, and the painting and the masonryof the mansion were all executed by slaves on the place.
On the Rivanna Jefferson had a mill, where his wheat was manufacturedinto flour and sent down to Richmond on bateaux to be sold for a goodprice, and cotton brought home to be made into cloth on theplantation. No wonder, when the master was gone, so extensive anindustrial plant ceased to be remunerative.
Jefferson was always sending home shrubbery and trees fromWashington,--he knew every green thing on every spot of his farm; andBacon, the manager, seldom failed to send the cart back laden withfruit from Monticello for the White House.
While the President at Monticello was giving orders to Goliah, thegardener, to Jupiter, the hostler, to Bacon and all the head men ofthe shops, Lewis would gallop home to visit his mother at Locust Hilljust out of Charlottesville.
Before the Revolution, Meriwether's father, William Lewis, hadreceived from George III. a patent for three thousand acres of choiceIvy Creek land in Albemarle, commanding an uninterrupted view of theBlue Ridge for one hundred and fifty miles. Here Meriwether was born,and Reuben and Jane.
"If Captain John Marks courts you I advise you to marry him," saidColonel William Lewis to his wife, on his death-bed after thesurrender of Cornwallis. In a few years she did marry Captain Marks,and in Georgia were born Meriwether's half brother and sister, Johnand Mary Marks.
Another spot almost as dear to Meriwether Lewis was the plantation ofhis uncle Nicholas Lewis, "The Farm," adjoining Monticello. It washere he saw Hamilton borne by, a prisoner of war, on the way toWilliamsburg, and here it was that Tarleton made his raid and stolethe ducks from Aunt Molly's chicken yard.
A strict disciplinarian, rather severe in her methods, and veryindustrious was Aunt Molly, "Captain Molly" they called her. "EvenColonel 'Nick,' although he can whip the British, stands in wholesomeawe of Captain Molly, his superior in the home guards," said thegossiping neighbours of Charlottesville.
As a boy on this place, Meriwether visited the negro cabins, followedthe overseer, or darted on inquiry bent through stables, coach-house,hen-house, smoke-house, dove cote, and milk-room, the ever-attendinglesser satellites of every mansion-house of old Virginia.
"Bless your heart, my boy," was Aunt Molly's habitual greeting, "to bea good boy is the surest way to be a great man."
A tender heart had Aunt Molly, doctress of half the countryside, whocame to her for remedies and advice. Her home was ever open tocharity. As friends she nursed and cared for Burgoyne's men, theSaratoga prisoners.
"Bury me under the tulip tree on top of the hill overlooking theRivanna," begged one of the sick British officers. True to her word,Aunt Molly had him laid under the tulip tree. Many generations ofLewises and Meriwethers lie now on that hill overlooking the redRivanna, but the first grave ever made there was that of the Britishprisoner so kindly cared for by Meriwether Lewis's Aunt Molly.
"Meriwether and Lewis are old and honoured names in Virginia. I reallybelieve the boy will be a credit to the family," said Aunt Molly whenthe President's secretary reined up on Wildair at the gate. TheCaptain's light hair rippled into a graceful queue tied with a ribbon,and his laughing blue eyes flashed as Maria Wood ran out to greet herold playfellow. Aunt Molly was Maria's grandmother.
"Very grand is my cousin Meriwether now," began the mischievous Maria."Long past are those days when as a Virginia ranger he prided himselfon rifle shirts faced with fringe, wild-cat's paws for epaulettes, andleathern belts heavy as a horse's surcingle." Lifting her hands inmock admiration Maria smiled entrancingly, "Indeed, gay as Jeffersonhimself is our sublime dandy, in blue coat, red velvet waistcoat,buff knee breeches, and brilliant buckles!" and Meriwether answeredwith a kiss.
Maria Wood was, perhaps, the dearest of Meriwether's friends, althoughrumour said he had been engaged to Milly Maury, the daughter of thelearned Parson. But how could that be when Milly married whileMeriwether was away soldiering on the Ohio? At any rate, now he rodewith Maria Wood, danced with her, and took her out to see his motherat Locust Hill.
The whole family relied on Meriwether at Locust Hill. While only a boyhe took charge of the farm, and of his own motion built a carriage anddrove to Georgia after his mother and the children upon the death ofCaptain Marks.
Back through the Cherokee-haunted woods they came, with othertravellers journeying the Georgia route. One night campfires wereblazing for the evening meal, when "Whoop!" came the hostile messageand a discharge of arms.
"Indians! Indians!"
All was confusion. Paralysed mothers hugged their infants and childrenscreamed, when a boy in the crowd threw a bucket of water on the fireextinguishing the light. In a moment all
was still, as the men rushedto arms repelling the attack. That boy was Meriwether Lewis.
"No brother like mine," said little Mary Marks. "Every noble trait ishis,--he is a father to us children, a counsellor to our mother, andmore anxious about our education than even for his own!"
Charles de St. Memin, a French artist, was in Washington, engraving oncopper.
"May I have your portrait as a typical handsome American?" he said tothe President's secretary.
Meriwether laughed and gave him a sitting. The same hand that had solately limned Paul Revere, Theodosia Burr, and the last profile ofWashington himself, sketched the typical youth of 1801. Lewis sent thedrawing to his mother, the head done in fired chalk and crayon, withthat curious pink background so peculiar to the St. Memin pictures.