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.

I have now to treat of that part of Jefferson's life which his biographer well calls "the saddest page in his personal history"—I allude to the pecuniary embarrassments which clouded the evening of his honored life. These were caused by his long absences from home when in the service of his country, the crowds of visitors which his reputation drew to his house, and the fluctuations and depression of the money market.

Jefferson inherited from his father nineteen hundred acres of land, and began the practice of law when he became of age, in 1764. His practice very soon became extensive, and yielded him an income of $3000, while from his estates he received about $2000, making a sum total of $5000. This was a handsome income, as property was then rated; for the very best highlands in Albemarle were valued at not more than two dollars per acre, and all other kinds of property bore a proportionate value. By the beginning of the Revolution, in 1774, he had increased his landed possessions to five thousand acres of the best lands around him; all paid for out of his income. This fact alone proves beyond contradiction how capable he was of managing his affairs and increasing his fortune, until called from direct supervision of them by the demands of his country.

On his marriage in 1772, he received, as his wife's dower, property which was valued at $40,000, but with a British debt on it of $13,000. He sold property to pay this debt, and the Virginia Legislature having passed a resolution to the effect that whoever would deposit in the State Treasury the amount of their British debt, the State would protect them, he deposited his in the Treasury. This resolution was afterwards rescinded, and the money was returned in Treasury Certificates. The depreciation of these was so great, that the value of those received by Jefferson was laid out in an overcoat; so that in after-years, when riding by the farm which he had sold to procure the $13,000 deposited in the State Treasury, he would smile and say, "I sold that farm for an overcoat." He sold other property to pay this debt, and this time was paid in paper money at as great a depreciation. Thus his impatience of debt cost him his wife's property. How just and exact he was in the payment of this, may be seen from the following extracts taken from one of his letters to his British creditors:

I am desirous of arranging with you such just and practicable conditions as will ascertain to you the terms at which you will receive my part of your debt, and give me the satisfaction of knowing that you are contented. What the laws of Virginia are, or may be, will in no wise influence my conduct. Substantial justice is my object, as decided by reason, and not by authority or compulsion....

Subsequent events have been such, that the State can not, and ought not, to pay the same nominal sum in gold or silver which they received in paper; nor is it certain what they will do: my intention being, and having always been, that, whatever the State decides, you shall receive my debt fully. I am ready, to remove all difficulty arising from this deposit, to take back to myself the demand against the State, and to consider the deposit as originally made for myself and not for you.

The Revolution coming on, he was, as we have seen, in public life almost continuously from 1774 to 1809. He did not visit his largest estate for nineteen years, and at one time was absent from his home for seven years. In 1782, he was sent as Minister to France; he returned at the close of the year 1788, and in March, 1789, entered Washington's cabinet as Secretary of State. He resigned in February, 1794, and devoted himself for three years to his private affairs. We have seen with what reluctance he returned to public life when in 1797 he was elected Vice-president. He was inaugurated President in 1801; and not retiring till 1809, was thus, with the exception of three years, absent from home from 1774 to 1809.

Of the various offices which Jefferson was called to fill, he received pecuniary benefit from that of Vice-president alone. As a member of the Virginia Assembly and of Congress, as well as when Governor of Virginia, his salaries barely paid the expenses incident to his official position. As Minister to France his salary did not cover his expenses; as Secretary of State his expenditures slightly exceeded his salary, while they greatly surpassed it when he was President. Yet his biographer tells us that "in none of these offices was his style of living noticed either for parsimony or extravagance." The following extracts from a letter written by him to his commission merchant, a month or two before the expiration of his Presidential term, show in what a painful embarrassment he found himself at that time:

Nothing had been more fixed than my determination to keep my expenses here within the limits of my salary, and I had great confidence that I had done so. Having, however, trusted to rough estimates by my head, and not being sufficiently apprised of the outstanding accounts, I find, on a review of my affairs here, as they will stand on the 3d of March, that I shall be three or four months' salary behind-hand. In ordinary cases this degree of arrearage would not be serious, but on the scale of the establishment here it amounts to seven or eight thousand dollars, which being to come out of my private funds will be felt by them sensibly.

After saying that in looking out for recourse to make good this deficit in the first instance, it is natural for him to turn to the principal bank of his own State, and asking that his commission merchant would try and arrange the matter for him with as little delay as possible, he goes on to say:

Since I have become sensible of this deficit I have been under an agony of mortification, and therefore must solicit as much urgency in the negotiation as the case will admit. My intervening nights will be almost sleepless, as nothing could be more distressing to me than to leave debts here unpaid, if indeed I should be permitted to depart with them unpaid, of which I am by no means certain.

When Jefferson resigned as Secretary of State in 1794, he hoped he had turned his back forever on public life, and proposed to devote the residue of his days to the restoration of his shattered fortunes. For a time he refused to listen to any application calling him from the peaceful enjoyments of his tranquil life at Monticello, but he was besieged by deputations of the most distinguished men of the day—old associates of the Revolution, who pressed his country's claim on him with an earnestness and pertinacity not to be resisted, and which finally recalled him to public life.

Jefferson, then, returned in 1809 to estates wasted by the rude management of the times, with hands, as he himself said, as clean as they were empty, and with a world-wide reputation which attracted crowds of company to devour what was left of a private property wasted by a life-long devotion to his country's demands upon him. No one could have been more hospitable than he was, and no one ever gave a more heartfelt or more cordial welcome to friends than he did; but the visits of those who were led by curiosity to Monticello was an annoyance which at times was almost painful to one of as retiring a disposition as he was. These visitors came at all hours and all seasons, and when unable to catch a glimpse of him in any other way, they not unfrequently begged to be allowed to sit in the hall, where, waiting until the dinner-hour arrived, they saw him as he passed through from his private apartments to his dining-room. On one occasion a female visitor, who was peering around the house, punched her parasol through a window-pane to get a better view of him.

The following letter from one of Mr. Jefferson's grand-daughters, which I take from Randall's Life of Jefferson, and the extracts which I also give from Dr. Dunglison's Memoranda, will give the reader a correct idea of the tax which such an influx of visitors must have been on an estate already groaning under debt:

——, 1856.

My dear Mr. Randall—.... Mr. Jefferson was not an improvident man. He had habits of order and economy, was regular in keeping his accounts, knew the value of money, and was in no way disposed to waste it. He was simple in his tastes, careful, and spent very little on himself. 'Tis not true that he threw away his money in fantastic projects and theoretical experiments. He was eminently a practical man. He was, during all the years that I knew him, very liberal, but never extravagant....

To return to his visitors: they came of all nations, at all times, and paid longer or shorter visits. I have known a New England judge bring a letter of introduction to my grandfather, and stay three weeks. The learned AbbÉ Correa, always a welcome guest, passed some weeks of each year with us during the whole time of his stay in the country. We had persons from abroad, from all the States of the Union, from every part of the State—men, women, and children. In short, almost every day, for at least eight months of the year, brought its contingent of guests. People of wealth, fashion, men in office, professional men, military and civil, lawyers, doctors, Protestant clergymen, Catholic priests, members of Congress, foreign ministers, missionaries, Indian agents, tourists, travellers, artists, strangers, friends. Some came from affection and respect, some from curiosity, some to give or receive advice or instruction, some from idleness, some because others set the example, and very varied, amusing, and agreeable was the society afforded by this influx of guests. I have listened to very remarkable conversations carried on round the table, the fireside, or in the summer drawing-room....

There were few eminent men of our country, except, perhaps, some political adversaries, who did not visit him in his retirement, to say nothing of distinguished foreigners. Life at Monticello was on an easy and informal footing. Mr. Jefferson always made his appearance at an early breakfast, but his mornings were most commonly devoted to his own occupations, and it was at dinner, after dinner, and in the evening, that he gave himself up to the society of his family and his guests. Visitors were left free to employ themselves as they liked during the morning hours—to walk, read, or seek companionship with the ladies of the family and each other. M. Correa passed his time in the fields and the woods; some gentlemen preferred the library; others the drawing-room; others the quiet of their own chambers; or they strolled down the mountain side and under the shade of the trees. The ladies in like manner consulted their ease and inclinations, and whiled away the time as best they might.

ELLEN W. COOLIDGE.

Dr. Dunglison says in his Memoranda:

His daughter, Mrs. Randolph, or one of the grand-daughters, took the head of the table; he himself sat near the other end, and almost always some visitors were present. The pilgrimage to Monticello was a favorite one with him who aspired to the rank of the patriot and the philanthropist; but it was too often undertaken from idle curiosity, and could not, under such circumstances, have afforded pleasure to, while it entailed unrequited expense on, its distinguished proprietor. More than once, indeed, the annoyance has been the subject of regretful animadversion. Monticello, like Montpellier, the seat of Mr. Madison, was some miles distant from any tavern, and hence, without sufficient consideration, the traveller not only availed himself of the hospitality of the ex-Presidents, but inflicted upon them the expenses of his quadrupeds. On one occasion at Montpellier, where my wife and myself were paying a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Madison, no fewer than nine horses were entertained during the night; and in reply to some observation which the circumstances engendered, Mr. Madison remarked, that while he was delighted with the society of the owners, he confessed he had not so much feeling for the horses.

Sitting one evening in the porch of Monticello, two gigs drove up, each containing a gentleman and lady. It appeared to me to be evidently the desire of the party to be invited to stay all night. One of the gentlemen came up to the porch and saluted Mr. Jefferson, stating that they claimed the privilege of American citizens in paying their respects to the President, and inspecting Monticello. Mr. Jefferson received them with marked politeness, and told them they were at liberty to look at every thing around, but as they did not receive an invitation to spend the night, they left in the dusk and returned to Charlottesville. Mr. Jefferson, on that occasion, could hardly avoid an expression of impatience at the repeated though complimentary intrusions to which he was exposed.

In Mr. Jefferson's embarrassed circumstances in the evening of life, the immense influx of visitors could not fail to be attended with much inconvenience. I had the curiosity to ask Mrs. Randolph what was the largest number of persons for whom she had been called upon unexpectedly to prepare accommodations for the night, and she replied fifty!

In a country like our own there is a curiosity to know personally those who have been called to fill the highest office in the Republic, and he who has attained this eminence must have formed a number of acquaintances who are eager to visit him in his retirement, so that when his salary as the first officer of the state ceases, the duties belonging to it do not cease simultaneously; and I confess I have no sympathy with the feeling of economy, political or social, which denies to the ex-President a retiring allowance, which may enable him to pass the remainder of his days in that useful and dignified hospitality which seems to be demanded, by the citizens, of one who has presided over them....

At all times dignified, and by no means easy of approach to all, he was generally communicative to those on whom he could rely. In his own house he was occasionally free in his speech, even to imprudence, to those of whom he did not know enough to be satisfied that an improper use might not be made of his candor. As an example of this, I recollect a person from Rhode Island visiting the University, and being introduced to Mr. Jefferson by one of my colleagues. The person did not impress me favorably; and when I rode up to Monticello, I found that no better impression had been made by him on Mr. Jefferson and Mrs. Randolph. His adhesiveness was such that he had occupied the valuable time of Mr. Jefferson the whole morning, and staid to dinner; and during the conversation Mr. Jefferson was apprehensive that he had said something which might have been misunderstood and be incorrectly repeated. He therefore asked me to find the gentleman, if he had not left Charlottesville, and request him to pay another visit to Monticello. He had left, however, when I returned, but I never discovered he had abused the frankness of Mr. Jefferson. Mr. Jefferson took the occasion of saying to me how cautious his friends ought to be in regard to the persons they introduced to him. It would have been singular if, in the numerous visitors, some had not been found to narrate the private conversations held with such men as Jefferson and Madison.

The foregoing statements and extracts present a faithful picture of the circumstances beyond his control which tended to hopelessly involve Mr. Jefferson in pecuniary embarrassments. These were still further aggravated by the outbreak of the war of 1812, whose disastrous consequences to Virginia farmers are thus graphically and sadly depicted by him in a letter to Mr. Short:

These are my views of the war. They embrace a great deal of sufferance, trying privations, and no benefit but that of teaching our enemy that he is never to gain by wanton injuries on us. To me this state of things brings a sacrifice of all tranquillity and comfort through the residue of life. For although the debility of age disables me from the services and sufferings of the field, yet, by the total annihilation in value of the produce which was to give me subsistence and independence, I shall be, like Tantalus, up to the shoulders in water, yet dying with thirst. We can make, indeed, enough to eat, drink, and clothe ourselves; but nothing for our salt, iron, groceries, and taxes, which must be paid in money. For what can we raise for the market? Wheat? we can only give it to our horses, as we have been doing ever since harvest. Tobacco? it is not worth the pipe it is smoked in. Some say whisky; but all mankind must become drunkards to consume it. But although we feel, we shall not flinch. We must consider now, as in the Revolutionary war, that although the evils of resistance are great, those of submission would be greater. We must meet, therefore, the former as the casualties of tempests and earthquakes, and, like them, necessarily resulting from the constitution of the world.

There was then nothing to be made from farming; but while his income was thus cut short, his company and his debts continued to increase. In this emergency something had to be done; and the only thing which offered itself involved a sacrifice which none but his own family, who witnessed the struggle it cost him, could ever fully appreciate—I allude to the sale of his library.

The British having burnt the Congressional Library at Washington in 1814, he seized that occasion to write to a friend in Congress—Samuel H. Smith—and offer his library at whatever price Congress should decide to be just. His letter making this offer is manly and business-like, and contains not one word of repining at the stern necessity which forced him to part with his literary treasures—the books which in every change in the tide of his eventful life had ever remained to him as old friends with unchanged faces, and whose silent companionship had afforded him—next to the love of his friends—the sweetest and purest joys of life. The following extract from this letter shows how valuable his collection of books was:

You know my collection, its condition and extent. I have been fifty years making it, and have spared no pains, opportunity, or expense, to make it what it is. While residing in Paris, I devoted every afternoon I was disengaged, for a summer or two, in examining all the principal bookstores, turning over every book with my own hand, and putting by every thing which related to America, and, indeed, whatever is rare and valuable in every science. Besides this, I had standing orders during the whole time I was in Europe on its principal book-marts, particularly Amsterdam, Frankfort, Madrid, and London, for such works relating to America as could not be found in Paris. So that in that department particularly such a collection was made as probably can never again be effected, because it is hardly probable that the same opportunities, the same time, industry, perseverance, and expense, with some knowledge of the bibliography of the subject, would again happen to be in concurrence. During the same period, and after my return to America, I was led to procure, also, whatever related to the duties of those in the high concerns of the nation. So that the collection, which I suppose is of between nine and ten thousand volumes, while it includes what is chiefly valuable in science and literature generally, extends more particularly to whatever belongs to the American Statesman.

It is sad to think that such a man as Jefferson, whose fortunes had been ruined by the demands which his country had made on him, should have been forced, so late in life, to sell such a library to pay debts which he was in no wise responsible for having incurred. And yet, though it was known that the purchase of the library would be a pecuniary relief to him, the bill authorizing it was not passed in Congress without decided opposition, and the amount finally voted ($23,950) as the price to be paid for the books was probably but little over half their original cost, though they were all in a perfect state of preservation.

The money received for the books proved to be only a temporary relief. The country had not recovered from the depression of its agricultural interests when a disastrous financial crisis burst upon it. A vivid but melancholy picture of this period is found in Colonel Benton's Thirty Years' View:

The years of 1819 and 1820 were a period of gloom and agony. No money, either gold or silver: no paper convertible into specie: no measure or standard of value left remaining. The local banks (all but those of New England), after a brief resumption of specie payments, again sank into a state of suspension. The bank of the United States, created as a remedy for all those evils, now at the head of the evil, prostrate and helpless, with no power left but that of suing its debtors and selling their property, and purchasing for itself at its own nominal price. No price for property or produce; no sales but those of the sheriff and the marshal; no purchasers at the execution-sales but the creditor, or some hoarder of money; no employment for industry; no demand for labor; no sale for the product of the farm; no sound of the hammer, but that of the auctioneer, knocking down property. Stop laws, property laws, replevin laws, stay laws, loan-office laws, the intervention of the legislator between the creditor and the debtor—this was the business of legislation in three-fourths of the States of the Union—of all south and west of New England. No medium of exchange but depreciated paper; no change, even, but little bits of foul paper, marked so many cents, and signed by some tradesman, barber, or innkeeper; exchanges deranged to the extent of fifty or one hundred per cent. Distress the universal cry of the people; relief, the universal demand, thundered at the door of all legislatures, State and federal.

Happy the man who, having his house set in order, was able to withstand the blasts of this financial tornado. To Jefferson, with his estates burdened with debt, their produce a drug in the market, and his house constantly crowded with guests, this crisis was fatal. At the time he did not feel its practical effects in their full force, for, as we have seen in a previous chapter, he had placed, in the year 1816, the management of his affairs in the hands of his grandson, Thomas Jefferson Randolph. I have elsewhere alluded to the constant and peculiar devotion of this grandfather and grandson to each other. When he took charge of his grandfather's affairs young Randolph threw himself into the breach, and, from that time until Mr. Jefferson's death, made it the aim of his life as far as possible to alleviate his financial condition, and to this end devoted all the energy and ardor of his youth as well as his own private fortune. I have lying before me an account signed by Mr. Jefferson a few weeks before his death, which shows that this grandson had interposed himself between him and his creditors to the amount of $58,536. Another paper before me, signed by Mr. Jefferson's commission-merchant, shows that he, the commission-merchant, was guaranteed by Mr. Randolph against any loss from endorsation, over-draught, or other responsibility which he had incurred, or might incur, on his grandfather's account; that these responsibilities were all met by him, and that nevertheless, by his directions, Mr. Jefferson's crops were placed in the hands of his commission-merchant on Mr. Jefferson's account, and were drawn out solely to his order. When, at the winding up of Mr. Jefferson's estate after his death, it was found that his debts exceeded the value of his property by $40,000, this same grandson pledged himself to make good the deficit, which, by his untiring and unaided efforts, he succeeded in doing in the course of some years, having in that time paid all that was due to Jefferson's creditors.[69]

The letters written by Jefferson during the rest of his life betray much mental suffering, and present a picture most painful to contemplate; showing, as it does, that however beneficial to the public his services to his country had been, on himself they were allowed to entail bankruptcy and ruin. The editor of the Jefferson and Cabell correspondence, on reaching the letters which cover this period of Mr. Jefferson's life, puts the following appropriate note:

The few remaining letters of the series relate not solely to the great subject of Education, but in some measure to Mr. J.'s private affairs, which had now become hopelessly embarrassed—a liability from which no citizen can claim entire exemption under our peculiar institutions. The reflections to which this gives rise would be too painful, had not the facts been already given to the public through other channels. That under such pressure he should have been able to continue his efforts and counsels in behalf of the public interests with which he had been charged,[70] must excite our admiration; and still more when we observe the dignity with which he bore up under reverses that would have crushed the spirit of many a younger and stouter man.

The following extract from a letter written early in the year 1826 to his friend Mr. J. C. Cabell, who was then in the Legislature of Virginia, explains itself:

My grandson, Thomas J. Randolph, attends the Legislature on a subject of ultimate importance to my future happiness.... My application to the Legislature is for permission to dispose of property for payment in a way[71] which, bringing a fair price for it, may pay my debts and leave a living for myself in my old age, and leave something for my family. Their consent is necessary, it will injure no man, and few sessions pass without similar exercises of the same power in their discretion. But I refer you to my grandson for particular explanations. I think it just myself; and if it should appear so to you, I am sure your friendship as well as justice will induce you to pay to it the attention which you may think the case will justify. To me it is almost a question of life and death.

The generous-hearted Cabell in reply writes:

I assure you I was truly distressed to receive your letter of the 20th, and to hear the embarrassed state of your affairs. You may rely on my utmost exertions. Your grandson proposed that the first conference should be held at the Eagle. I prevailed on him to remove the scene to Judge Carr's, and to invite all the Judges of the Court of Appeals. Mr. Coalter and my brother were unable to attend; but all the court is with you. Mr. Johnson agreed to draw the bill. I am co-operating as far as lies in my power. I wish complete justice could be done on this occasion; but we have to deal with men as they are. Your grandson will no doubt give you the fullest information. I will occasionally inform you how matters are progressing.

Shortly after writing to Mr. Cabell we find him drawing up a paper, to be shown to his friends in the Legislature, called "Thoughts on Lotteries," which was written to show that there could be nothing immoral in the lottery which he desired. The following quotation shows that his request was not without a precedent:

In this way the great estate of the late Colonel Byrd (in 1756) was made competent to pay his debts, which, had the whole been brought into market at once, would have overdone the demand, would have sold at half or quarter the value, and sacrificed the creditors, half or three-fourths of whom would have lost their debts. This method of selling was formerly very much resorted to, until it was thought to nourish too much a spirit of hazard. The Legislature were therefore induced, not to suppress it altogether, but to take it under their own special regulation. This they did for the first time by their act of 1769, c. 17, before which time every person exercised the right freely, and since which time it is made unlawful but when approved and authorized by a special act of the Legislature.

In this same paper he sums up as follows the years spent in the public service:

I came of age in 1764, and was soon put into the nomination of justice of the county in which I live; and at the first election following I became one of its representatives in the Legislature. I was thence sent to the old Congress. Then employed two years with Mr. Pendleton and Mr. Wythe, on the revisal and reduction to a single code of the whole body of the British statutes, the acts of our Assembly, and certain parts of the common law. Then elected Governor. Next, to the Legislature and Congress again. Sent to Europe as Minister Plenipotentiary. Appointed Secretary of State to the new Government. Elected Vice-President, and President. And lastly, a Visitor and Rector of the University.

In these different offices, with scarcely any interval between them, I have been in the public service now sixty-one years; and during the far greater part of the time in foreign countries or in other States. Every one knows how inevitably a Virginia estate goes to ruin when the owner is so far distant as to be unable to pay attention to it himself; and the more especially when the line of his employment is of a character to abstract and alienate his mind entirely from the knowledge necessary to good and even to saving management.

Small and trifling as the favor was which Mr. Jefferson asked of the Virginia Legislature, it cost him much pain and mortification to do it, as we find from a sad and touching letter to Madison, in which he unbosoms himself to this long-cherished friend. He writes:

You will have seen in the newspapers some proceedings in the Legislature which have cost me much mortification.... Still, sales at a fair price would leave me competently provided. Had crops and prices for several years been such as to maintain a steady competition of substantial bidders at market, all would have been safe. But the long succession of years of stunted crops, of reduced prices, the general prostration of the farming business, under levies for the support of manufactures, etc., with the calamitous fluctuations of value in our paper medium, have kept agriculture in a state of abject depression, which has peopled the Western States by silently breaking up those on the Atlantic, and glutted the land-market while it drew off its bidders. In such a state of things property has lost its character of being a resource for debts. Highland in Bedford, which, in the days of our plethory, sold readily for from fifty to one hundred dollars the acre (and such sales were many then), would not now sell for more than from ten to twenty dollars, or one-quarter or one-fifth of its former price. Reflecting on these things, the practice occurred to me of selling on fair valuation, and by way of lottery, often resorted to before the Revolution to effect large sales, and still in constant usage in every State for individual as well as corporation purposes. If it is permitted in my case, my lands here alone, with the mills, etc., will pay every thing, and will leave me Monticello and a farm free. If refused, I must sell every thing here, perhaps considerably in Bedford, move thither with my family, where I have not even a log hut to put my head into,[72] and where ground for burial will depend on the depredations which, under the form of sales, shall have been committed on my property.

The question then with me was utrum horum. But why afflict you with these details? Indeed, I can not tell, unless pains are lessened by communication with a friend. The friendship which has subsisted between us, now half a century, and the harmony of our political principles and pursuits, have been sources of constant happiness to me through that long period. And if I remove beyond the reach of attentions to the University, or beyond the bourne of life itself, as I soon must, it is a comfort to leave that institution under your care, and an assurance that it will not be wanting. It has also been a great solace to me to believe that you are engaged in vindicating to posterity the course we have pursued for preserving to them in all their purity the blessings of self-government, which we had assisted, too, in acquiring for them. If ever the earth has beheld a system of administration conducted with a single and steadfast eye to the general interest and happiness of those committed to it; one which, protected by truth, can never know reproach, it is that to which our lives have been devoted. To myself you have been a pillar of support through life. Take care of me when dead, and be assured that I shall leave with you my last affections.

On the 3d of February, 1826, Mr. Cabell wrote to Jefferson:

Your intended application to the Legislature has excited much discussion in private circles in Richmond. Your grandson will doubtless give you a full account of passing occurrences. A second conference was held at Mr. Baker's last evening, at which were four of the Judges of the Court of Appeals, and several members of the Legislature. Finding considerable opposition in some of your political friends to the lottery, and feeling mortified myself that the State should stop short at so limited a measure, I suggested the idea of a loan of $80,000, free of interest, from the State, during the remainder of your life. On consultation, our friends decided that it would be impracticable. At the conference of last evening it was unanimously decided to bring forward and support the lottery. I hear there will be considerable opposition, but I hope it is exaggerated. I do not think that delay would be injurious, as in every case I have found the first impression the worst. Would to God that I had the power to raise the mind of the Legislature to a just conception of its duties on the present occasion. Knowing so well as I do how much you have done for us, I have some idea of what we ought to do for you.

The following extract from a letter written on February 4th by Jefferson to his grandson portrays vividly and painfully the agonized state of his mind about his affairs:

Your letter of the 31st was received yesterday, and gave me a fine night's rest, which I had not had before since you left us, as the failure to hear from you by the preceding mail had filled me with fearful forebodings. I am pleased with the train you are proceeding in, and particularly with the appointment of valuers. Under all circumstances I think I may expect a liberal valuation; an exaggerated one I should negative myself. I would not be stained with the suspicions of selfishness at this time of life, and this will protect me from them. I hope the paper I gave you will justify me in the eyes of all those who have been consulted.

This gleam of hope which so cheered up the old man's sinking heart was soon to be extinguished. His friends found, on feeling the pulse of the Legislature, that his simple request to be allowed to sell his property by lottery would meet with violent opposition, if not absolute defeat, in that body. On his good friend Cabell devolved the painful duty of communicating this intelligence to him, which he did with all the feeling and delicacy of his chivalrous nature.

The shock to Jefferson was great, and we find him, not without some bitterness, replying:

I had hoped the length and character of my services might have prevented the fear in the Legislature of the indulgence asked being quoted as a precedent in future cases. But I find no fault with their strict adherence to a rule generally useful, although relaxable in some cases, under their discretion, of which they are the proper judges.

And again, in another letter to Cabell, he concludes sadly:

Whatever may be the sentence to be pronounced in my particular case, the efforts of my friends are so visible, the impressions so profoundly sunk to the bottom of my heart, that they can never be obliterated. They plant there a consolation which countervails whatever other indications might seem to import. The report of the Committee of Finance particularly is balm to my soul. Thanks to you all, and warm and affectionate acknowledgments. I count on nothing now. I am taught to know my standard, and have to meet with no further disappointment.

Well might such bitterness as this last sentence contained have been wrung from him, for the Legislature granted leave for the bill to be brought in by a bare majority of four. The noble and generous-hearted Cabell, on communicating this intelligence to him, adds: "I blush for my country, and am humiliated to think how we shall appear on the page of history."

Perhaps nothing more beautiful or more touching ever flowed from his pen than the following letter to his grandson; giving, as it does, such a picture of his affections, his Christian resignation, manly courage, and willingness to bear up under adversity, for the sake of doing good to those he loved.

To Thomas J. Randolph.

Monticello, February 8th, '26.

My dear Jefferson—I duly received your affectionate letter of the 3d, and perceive there are greater doubts than I had apprehended whether the Legislature will indulge my request to them. It is a part of my mortification to perceive that I had so far overvalued myself as to have counted on it with too much confidence. I see, in the failure of this hope, a deadly blast of all my peace of mind during my remaining days. You kindly encourage me to keep up my spirits; but, oppressed with disease, debility, age, and embarrassed affairs, this is difficult. For myself I should not regard a prostration of fortune, but I am overwhelmed at the prospect of the situation in which I may leave my family. My dear and beloved daughter, the cherished companion of my early life, and nurse of my age, and her children, rendered as dear to me as if my own, from having lived with me from their cradle, left in a comfortless situation, hold up to me nothing but future gloom; and I should not care were life to end with the line I am writing, were it not that in the unhappy state of mind which your father's misfortunes have brought upon him, I may yet be of some avail to the family. Their affectionate devotion to me makes a willingness to endure life a duty, as long as it can be of any use to them. Yourself particularly, dear Jefferson, I consider as the greatest of the Godsends which heaven has granted to me. Without you what could I do under the difficulties now environing me? These have been produced, in some degree, by my own unskillful management, and devoting my time to the service of my country, but much also by the unfortunate fluctuation in the value of our money, and the long-continued depression of farming business. But for these last I am confident my debts might be paid, leaving me Monticello and the Bedford estate; but where there are no bidders, property, however great, is no resource for the payment of debts; all may go for little or nothing. Perhaps, however, even in this case I may have no right to complain, as these misfortunes have been held back for my last days, when few remain to me. I duly acknowledge that I have gone through a long life with fewer circumstances of affliction than are the lot of most men—uninterrupted health—a competence for every reasonable want—usefulness to my fellow-citizens—a good portion of their esteem—no complaint against the world which has sufficiently honored me, and, above all, a family which has blessed me by their affections, and never by their conduct given me a moment's pain—and should this, my last request, be granted, I may yet close with a cloudless sun a long and serene day of life. Be assured, my dear Jefferson, that I have a just sense of the part you have contributed to this, and that I bear you unmeasured affection.

TH. JEFFERSON.

What a world of suffering and mental anguish this letter reveals! Three days after it was written his eldest grandchild, Mrs. Anne Bankhead, died. In alluding to his distress on this occasion, Dr. Dunglison says, in his Memoranda: "On the last day of the fatal illness of his grand-daughter, who had married Mr. Bankhead.... Mr. Jefferson was present in the adjoining apartment; and when the announcement was made by me that but little hope remained, that she was, indeed, past hope, it is impossible to imagine more poignant distress than was exhibited by him. He shed tears, and abandoned himself to every evidence of intense grief."

Mr. Jefferson announced the death of this grand-daughter to her brother, then in Richmond, in the following touchingly-written note:

To Thomas Jefferson Randolph.

Monticello, Feb. 11th, '26.

Bad news, my dear Jefferson, as to your sister Anne. She expired about half an hour ago. I have been so ill for several days that I could not go to see her till this morning, and found her speechless and insensible. She breathed her last about 11 o'clock. Heaven seems to be overwhelming us with every form of misfortune, and I expect your next will give me the coup de grÂce. Your own family are all well. Affectionately adieu.

TH. JEFFERSON.

I now hasten to drop the curtain on this painful period of his life. The bill for the lottery was still before the Legislature when the people of Richmond held a meeting and passed resolutions to approve its being adopted. Finally the Legislature passed the bill, on the 20th of February, by a vote in the Senate of ayes thirteen, nays four. During the next few months meetings indorsing the action of the Legislature were held in different parts of the State. We quote the following preamble to the Resolutions that were passed at a meeting held in Nelson County, though no action resulted from the meeting:

The undersigned citizens of Nelson County, concurring cordially in the views lately expressed by their fellow-citizens at the seat of government,[73] and heartily sympathizing in the sentiments of grateful respect and affectionate regard recently evinced both there and elsewhere for their countryman, Thomas Jefferson, can not disguise the sincere satisfaction which they derive from the prospect of a general co-operation to relieve this ancient and distinguished patriot. The important services for which we are indebted to Mr. Jefferson, from the days of his youth, when he drew upon himself the resentment of Dunmore, to the present time, when, at the close of a long life, he is laboring to enlighten the nation which he has contributed to make free, place him in the highest rank of national benefactors, and eminently entitle him to the character of the people's friend. Whether considered as the servant of the State or of the United States; whether regarded as an advocate or a statesman; whether as a patriot, a legislator, a philosopher, or a friend of liberty and republican government, he is the unquestioned ornament of his country, and unites in himself every title to our respect, our veneration, and gratitude. His services are written in the hearts of a grateful people; they are identified with the fundamental institutions of his country; they entitle him to "the fairest page of faithful history;" and will be remembered as long as reason and science are respected on earth. Profoundly impressed with these sentiments, the undersigned citizens of Nelson County consider it compatible with neither the national character nor with the gratitude of the Republic that this aged patriot should be deprived of his estate or abridged in his comforts at the close of a long life so ably spent in the service of his country.[74]

Fair words these, but barren as the desert air. From his own State Mr. Jefferson received no aid whatever; but other States came to his relief in a manner which was both gratifying and efficient. Without effort, Philip Hone, the Mayor of New York, raised $8500, which he transmitted to Mr. Jefferson on behalf of the citizens of New York; from Philadelphia he received $5000, and from Baltimore $3000. These sums were promptly sent as soon as his embarrassed circumstances became known. He was much touched by this proof of the affection and esteem of his countrymen, and feelingly exclaimed: "No cent of this is wrung from the tax-payer—it is the pure and unsolicited offering of love."

Happily, he died unconscious that the sales of his property would fail to pay his debts, that his beautiful home would pass into the hands of strangers, and that his "dear and beloved daughter" would go forth into the world penniless, as its doors were closed upon her forever.[75]

The following quotation from a French writer—one by no means friendly to Jefferson—forms a fitting conclusion for this sad chapter of his life. After alluding to the grand outburst of popular feeling displayed in the funeral orations throughout the country on the deaths of Adams and Jefferson, he says:

But the nobler emotions of democracy are of short duration: it soon forgets its most faithful servants. Six months had not elapsed when Jefferson's furniture was sold at auction to pay his debts, when Monticello and Poplar Forest were advertised for sale at the street corners, and when the daughter of him whom America had called "the father of democracy" had no longer a place to rest her head.[76]

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