James Madison: A Life Reconsidered (59 page)

After the British attack, Madison named his former rival James Monroe to head the War Department.

This enormous flag, which flew over Fort McHenry on the morning of September 14, 1814, inspired “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Each star is two feet wide. 

Finding the White House uninhabitable when they returned to Washington, President and Mrs. Madison moved into the Octagon House. It was there that Madison signed the Treaty of Ghent, ending the war.

This 1816 portrait of President Madison emphasizes the steady resolve with which he brought the nation through its first war under the Constitution.

This pair of portraits painted in 1817, after Madison had retired from office, shows Dolley still beautiful at forty-nine, but James showing his years at sixty-six. The painting of the former president also hints at the kindness that Madison’s friends consistently attributed to him.

Montpelier has recently been restored so that visitors can see it as James and Dolley Madison knew it. Twentieth-century additions have been stripped away. Pink stucco that had been applied over the brick has been removed. Interiors are being recreated so that it is once again possible to imagine James Madison playing chess in the drawing room or reading and studying maps and globes in his library.

THE DEBTS
I
HAVE ACCUMULATED
in writing
James Madison
go back more than a quarter century to my service on the Commission on the Bicentennial of the United States Constitution. Former chief justice Warren E. Burger, the chairman of the commission, impressed on us all what a wondrous document the Constitution is, and I will never forget his wise disquisitions on it. As my interest in James Madison, the father of the Constitution, deepened, I was increasingly puzzled by the disjunction between the grandeur of his accomplishments and the portrayal of him as weak and shy. In 2007, I began extensive research to try to understand this seeming contradiction and soon found myself embarked on a book about Madison’s life.

I am extraordinarily grateful to Clare Ferraro, president of Viking, for having faith in my project. Wendy Wolf at Viking is a paragon among editors, knowledgeable, insightful, and direct. Thank you, Wendy, and my thanks as well to associate editor Maggie Riggs and to Bruce Giffords, who oversaw the editorial production process with precision and patience. I was also fortunate to have an outstanding copyeditor, Ingrid Sterner. My gratitude to Brianna Harden, who designed the striking
jacket for
James Madison
, and to Amy Hill, designer of the lovely interior of the book. I am also grateful to marketing director Nancy Sheppard, publicity director Carolyn Coleburn, senior publicist Meredith Burks, and publicist Kristen Matzen.

Let me also acknowledge attorney Bob Barnett, my adviser for many years. He encouraged me to write this book and brought to the project, as he has to all the others with which he has helped me, an amazing knowledge of the publishing industry and lively good cheer.

•   •   •

THE INTERNET HAS REVOLUTIONIZED
research in recent years, but physical libraries and archives remain indispensable. I cannot imagine writing this book without the amazing resources of the Library of Congress, where I received invaluable assistance from Mary Yarnall in the Collections Access, Loan, and Management Division. I am indebted to Eric Frazier in the Rare Book and Special Collections Division, where I was able to read health manuals to which people in the eighteenth century turned, and to Patrick Kerwin and Lewis Wyman in the Manuscript Division, where among other original documents, I was able to study Madison’s letter describing the end of his romance with Kitty Floyd and decipher some of the words he tried to obliterate. Our great national repositories, which are rapidly digitizing their holdings, are also a source of expert guidance through the electronic world. Digital research specialist Jennifer Harbster at the Library of Congress provided help with weather records, directing me to a periodical that reported rain and thunder on May 5, 1787, the day Madison arrived in Philadelphia for the federal convention.

At the National Archives, another of the nation’s great treasures, I was aided immeasurably by Jacqueline Budell, who helped me find my way to documents on the archives’ Web site, such as letters written by high officials, and to items as yet undigitized, such as an account written by a clerk, Mordecai Booth, who in 1814 helped burn the Washington Navy Yard before the British could seize it. I thank her and also David Langbart for his help. My gratitude as well to Nancy Smith, who was kind enough to arrange for me to bring my grandchildren to the archives
so that we could all marvel over the Constitution of the United States, the world-changing document on display there.

In the Firestone Library of Princeton University, I first saw the draft autobiography that Madison wrote in 1816 in which he described his “constitutional liability to sudden attacks, somewhat resembling epilepsy, and suspending the intellectual functions.” These attacks, he wrote, speaking of himself in the third person, “continued thro’ his life.” In private hands until 1953 and unpublished still as I write, this manuscript persuaded me that it was time to take Madison at his word and explore what he meant by his “sudden attacks.” I want to thank Ben Primer of Rare Books and Special Collections in the Firestone Library for assisting me in locating the draft autobiography. I would also like to thank reference librarian Gabriel Swift for his assistance, and AnnaLee Pauls as well. Andrew Kilberg was an excellent guide to the Princeton campus, where Madison attended college.

As I tried to understand Madison’s disorder, I had the best advice possible. Dr. Orrin Devinsky, director of the Comprehensive Epilepsy Center of New York University’s Langone Medical Center, met with me, responded to e-mails, and actually believed that I would finish this book someday. I am most grateful to have had Dr. Devinsky’s help—and I hereby absolve him of any errors in my interpretation. I would also like to thank Dr. Brian Litt, director of the Penn Epilepsy Center, who offered an excellent reading suggestion. Stephen J. Greenberg in the History of Medicine Division at the National Library of Medicine of the National Institutes of Health was helpful as well.

At the University of Virginia, I would like to thank Karin Wittenborg for her assistance at the Alderman Library and express my gratitude to Robert Perkins of the Mary and David Harrison Institute for American History, Literature, and Culture. I would like to thank Clay Davis as well. The Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library at the university is a magnificent resource, and it was there that I read the account book that shows James Madison Sr. paying for a cradle for his firstborn. I would like to thank Nicole Bouché, Michael Plunkett, and Margaret Hrabe for their assistance.

At the University of Pennsylvania, where I saw the second orrery built by David Rittenhouse (I viewed the first at Princeton), I was welcomed by director of libraries H. Carton Rogers III and David McKnight, who directs the Rare Book and Manuscript Library. I was ably assisted in that library by Daniel Traister and John Pollack. At the University of Michigan’s William L. Clements Library, research specialist Janet Bloom provided valuable assistance. William diGiacomantonio of the First Federal Congress project was kind enough to advise about which member of Washington’s administration wrote under the penname Scourge. I am also grateful to Frederick Madison Smith, president of the National Society of Madison Family Descendants, who was helpful with Madison genealogy.

At the Presbyterian Historical Society in Philadelphia, I viewed the unpublished Madison family papers in the Shane Collection. They include the pocket-sized piece of paper listing medicines “for an epilepsy” that James Madison’s grandmother Frances ordered. When my time in Philadelphia was unexpectedly cut short, I was graciously assisted by Elaine E. Hasleton of the Family History Library in Salt Lake, which microfilmed the Shane Collection.

At the Virginia Historical Society, Frances S. Pollard, director of library services, was most helpful, as were Katherine Wilkins, Matthew Chaney, and Jamison Davis. My gratitude for their assistance at the Historical Society of Pennsylvania to Lee Arnold, senior director of the library and collections; Jack Gumbrecht, director of research services; Hillary S. Kativa; and Christopher Damiani. At Independence National Historical Park, I am indebted to chief curator Karie Diethorn and historian Coxey Toogood, as well as to Andrea Ashby. I would also like to acknowledge the assistance of librarian James N. Green at the Library Company of Philadelphia, as well as Cornelia S. King, Linda August, Sarah Weatherwax, and Erika Piola.

At the Massachusetts Historical Society, a number of people have been of great help, including Elaine Grublin, head of reader services, and Tracy Potter, reference librarian. I would also like to thank Anna J. Cook, Andrea Cronin, Betsy Boyle, and Rakashi Chand.

I would like to acknowledge the assistance of Robin Kipps, who supervises the Pasteur and Galt Apothecary in Colonial Williamsburg, and Del Moore, reference librarian at the John D. Rockefeller Jr. Library.

The homes of the early presidents are sources of enlightenment and inspiration for anyone working in the founding period. I would particularly like to acknowledge the excellent leadership of Kat Imhoff, president and executive director of the Montpelier Foundation, and her predecessor, Michael C. Quinn, as well as the outstanding work of Sean O’Brien, executive director of the Center for the Constitution. They lead a wonderful team that during the time of my research included Lee Langston-Harrison, Christian Cotz, Lynne Dakin Hastings, Meg Kennedy, Matthew B. Reeves, C. Thomas Chapman, Ellen Wessel, Grant S. Quertermous, Tiffany W. Cole, Allison Deeds, and Lisa Timmerman. I also want to recognize Ann L. Miller’s meticulous and valuable work. The energy and inspiration of the Montpelier team has made it possible to see James Madison’s home as he and Mrs. Madison knew it and to better understand the greatness of Madison’s accomplishments. Their ongoing efforts are daily bringing forth more information, not just about James and Dolley, but also about James’s ancestors and Mount Pleasant, the small home to which his grandfather brought his grandmother Frances and their children. The lives of those who were enslaved at Montpelier are becoming part of the historical record thanks to the ongoing work of the Montpelier team.

At Monticello, Daniel P. Jordan, then president of the Thomas Jefferson Foundation, was a gracious host, and Susan R. Stein, the Richard Gilder curator and vice president for museum programs, a marvelous guide. I was also the beneficiary of time spent with Andrew Jackson O’Shaughnessy, who directs the Robert H. Smith International Center for Jefferson Studies, and J. Jefferson Looney, editor of
The Papers of Thomas Jefferson: Retirement Series
. My thanks as well to Jack Robertson, Endrina Tay, and Anna Berkes.

At Mount Vernon, Gay Hart Gaines, former regent of the Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association, provided many opportunities for me to visit Washington’s lovely home. We spent one early summer evening on the
piazza at Mount Vernon with a full moon overhead. It was a reminder that although much separates us from the eighteenth century, there are timeless aspects of life on this earth that connect us.

At James Monroe’s home, Dorothy Brown was my informative guide, and I would like to thank her as well as Jarod Kearney, the curator of the James Monroe Museum and Memorial Library in Fredericksburg, Virginia. I would also like to acknowledge the generous assistance of Michele R. Lee, the librarian and archivist at Gunston Hall, George Mason’s home, and Judith S. Hynson, director of research and library collections at Stratford Hall, fabled home of the Lees. Thanks as well to archivist Elise Allison at the Greensboro Historical Museum in Greensboro, North Carolina. Gratitude also to Clive and Susan Duval for having graciously welcomed me into their home, Salona, where Madison is said to have spent the night of August 24, 1814.

J. C. A. Stagg, David B. Mattern, Ralph Ketcham, Catherine Allgor, and Holly C. Shulman, whose staggering contributions to Madison scholarship are acknowledged in the prologue to this book, were kind enough to read the manuscript, as were Celeste Colgan and Janet Rogers. This outstanding group was wise in its guidance, saved me from mistakes—and any that remain are entirely my own.

As I described in this book, John Payne Todd, Madison’s stepson, regularly pilfered things from Montpelier and sold them, which is one of the reasons that uncataloged Madison documents remain in private hands. If someone tells you that he or she has a Madison letter, you should listen carefully, as I did to Robert Shannahan, a friend from the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Bob, in fact, has two important letters, which he generously shared.

I want to thank the American Enterprise Institute for supporting my work on James Madison. I would particularly like to acknowledge Arthur C. Brooks, AEI’s dynamic president, and Karlyn Bowman, who in addition to writing insightful articles on public opinion keeps those of us who work in the humanities from disappearing into our libraries. AEI attracts amazing young people to work as research assistants, and two of the best aided me in writing this book. I would like to thank the
smart, creative, and meticulous Hannah Gray, who knows what questions to ask, finds the right answers with astonishing speed, and brings a cheerful, can-do attitude to every task. Indeed, I have yet to find an assignment she cannot fulfill. Here is a prediction: we will all be hearing about Hannah in the future. Her predecessor, Cristina Allegretti, my right-hand person in the first years of writing this book, is sharp, efficient, and organized, with a great eye for detail that will serve her well in the years ahead. I want to thank her for her tireless efforts on this project and congratulate her as she finishes Columbia Business School and launches what I am certain will be a very successful career. I also want to thank the bright and hardworking interns who undertook various tasks: Gabriella Angeloni, Sarah Balakrishnan, Karen Brentano, Rachel Elias, Jeffrey Gerlomes, Elizabeth Gunnell, Julia Harvey, Lauren Hewitt, Margaret Inomata, Christina Johannsen, Steven Lindsay, Annelise Madison, Meredith Manning, Marissa Miller, Cars Paulan, Camille Santrach, and Lindsay Schare.

I end these acknowledgments by expressing gratitude to my husband, Dick Cheney, first and foremost for his love and support. I also thank him for the longtime front-row seat I have had on congressional and presidential politics. That experience has been invaluable in helping me understand—and I hope convey—what a master of the political arts James Madison was.