Before leaving Philadelphia for Annapolis, Jefferson had made arrangements for Martha, finding her a place to live and arranging for tutors. Happily, Mrs. Hopkinson—Francis’s mother—invited Martha to lodge with her. Francis Hopkinson was one of the most accomplished litterateurs and musicians in early America. Jefferson had known him since they had served together in the Continental Congress together the previous decade. He called Hopkinson “a man of genius, gentility, and great merit.”13 This new arrangement allowed them to renew their friendship and gained Jefferson an amusing correspondent in the bargain. Once Jefferson had settled in Annapolis, Hopkinson wrote to him, anticipating much pleasure in the possibility of their correspondence: “I shall be happy in corresponding with you if you give me any Encouragement. My Fancy suggests a Thousand whims which die for want of Communication, nor would I communicate them but to one who has Discernment to conceive my Humour and Candour with respect to my Faults and Peculiarities. Such a Friend I believe you to be.”14 The delightful letters Jefferson received from Hopkinson in the coming months alleviated the tedium and frustration he experienced during his time in Annapolis.
Jefferson took additional steps to help Martha learn French. He acquired some entertaining books for her: a French translation of Don Quixote and a copy of Alain René Lesage’s Gil Blas, both of which, he said, “are among the best books of their class as far as I am acquainted with them.” He also asked Marbois to find her a French tutor. Shortly after reaching Annapolis, Jefferson outlined a general scheme for his daughter’s education. “The plan of reading which I have formed for her is considerably different from what I think would be most proper for her sex in any other country than America,” he began. His words recall those of his teacher James Maury, who had suggested that local conditions made an American education fundamentally different from a European one. Jefferson continued: “I am obliged in it to extend my views beyond herself, and consider her as possibly at the head of a little family of her own. The chance that in marriage she will draw a blockhead I calculate at about fourteen to one, and of course that the education of her family will probably rest on her own ideas and directions without assistance. With the best poets and prosewriters I shall therefore combine a certain extent of reading in the graver sciences.”15
His sardonic comment about Martha possibly marrying a blockhead shows that he was recapturing his sense of humor since the dark days surrounding his wife’s death. The remark also suggests that he was finding ways to control what he could control and learning to accept what he could not. If his daughter was destined to marry a blockhead, so be it. At least he could assure her and, therefore, her children a good education.
Jefferson did not say where he had purchased copies of Gil Blas and Don Quixote for his daughter, but during their time in Philadelphia that fall he made substantial purchases at Boinod and Galliard, a new retail establishment specializing in imported French books. He continued to order more books from this shop during his time in Annapolis. Announcing their plans for the business, Messrs. Boinod and Galliard offered customers the opportunity to special order virtually any book: “We shall distinguish ourselves peculiarly in regard to such Books as at this Time are not to be had in the Book-Stores, and which may require a laborious and difficult Search to procure. This Assertion will not appear rash, when it is considered that we have procured punctual, learned and intelligent Correspondents, who will assiduously second our Endeavours to please the Publick.”16 Jefferson took them up on their offer. His Annapolis library, which is known by an inventory prepared shortly before he left the city, contained mostly French books.
Together with this inventory, two other important documents present a picture of Jefferson’s literary life during the five and a half months he spent in Annapolis: a lengthy letter he wrote James Madison and the surviving comments of G. K. Van Hogendorp, the young Dutchman who visited Annapolis while Congress was in session. “The best informed man of his age I have ever seen,” Jefferson called Hogendorp.17
Engaged in the process of drafting legislation to help the government run smoothly, Jefferson was also continuing to study legal theory. Most important, he was deepening his study of natural law. His Annapolis bookshelf contained several crucial new French works on the subject. He was also encouraging younger colleagues to pursue this study as fully as possible. He loaned his copy of Emer de Vattel’s Questions de Droit Natural to Richard Dobbs Spaight, a representative from North Carolina, and to David Howell, a representative from Rhode Island, he loaned Vattel as well as Fortuné Barthélemy de Félice’s Leçons de Droit de la Nature et des Gens.
Serving with the author of the Declaration of Independence, the junior members of Congress received a thorough grounding in the study of natural law and natural rights. Explaining to a correspondent how he spent his time, Howell, for one, wrote, “I sometimes read. Gov. Jefferson, who is here a Delegate from Virginia, and one of the best members I have ever seen in Congress, has a good Library of French books, and has been so good as to lend me.”18
Recommending books to his younger colleagues and seeing them in action in Congress, Jefferson, though occasionally frustrated by the slowness of the legislative proceedings, still developed much hope for the new generation of American leaders. In his letter to Madison, he wrote, “I see the best effects produced by sending our young statesmen here [to Congress]. They see the affairs of the Confederacy from a high ground; they learn the importance of the Union, and befriend federal measures when they return. Those who never come here, see our affairs insulated, pursue a system of jealousy and self interest, and distract the Union as much as they can.”19 A successful government, he realized, requires its lawmakers to get to know one another and sympathize with each others’ concerns.
For the most part, Jefferson kept to himself when each day’s proceedings came to a close. According to Hogendorp, belles lettres was his sole diversion.20 In addition to revising and expanding Notes on the State of Virginia, he was also reading widely. He spent his evenings engaged in literary pursuits, partly from preference and partly because he was not in good health. Or should it be the other way around? Jefferson wondered. Could too much reading and study be affecting his physical health? One particular work he had on his Annapolis bookshelf hints that he was asking himself this question and seeking an answer: S. A. D. Tissot’s De la Santé des Gens de Lettres, a medical treatise devoted to the physical and mental health of the man of letters.
Tissot closely studied the relationship between personal habits and physical health. His general medical handbook, Advice to the People, had achieved a popular following among the American reading public in the eighteenth century. Tissot also wrote a number of specific works devoted to different segments of the population. De la Santé des Gens de Lettres identifies several different factors adversely affecting the health of the man of letters: the stuffy atmosphere of his study, the vast amounts of tea and coffee scholars consume, the long periods of physical inactivity brought about by hours of reading and writing, and the willingness among scholars to sacrifice their physical health in favor of intellectual endeavor. Isaac Disraeli, one of the work’s bookish readers, found that Tissot hit a little too close to home, saying that De la Santé des Gens de Lettres “chills and terrifies more than it does good.”21
Hogendorp came away from Annapolis thoroughly impressed. Summarizing Jefferson’s character, he wrote, “He has the shyness that accompanies true worth, which is at first disturbing and which puts off those who seek to know him. Those who persist in knowing him soon discern the man of letters, the lover of natural history, Law, Statecraft, Philosophy, and the friend of mankind.”22 This personal description is remarkably similar to the one Chastellux penned in his journal. Both men noticed a diffidence that warmed into affectionate friendship.
Jefferson’s letter to Madison conveys the profound level of affection he extended to close friends and kindred spirits. Once more he was imagining Monticello as the center of an intimate intellectual ci
rcle. This time the circle would include James Madison, James Monroe, and William Short, another bright and ambitious young Virginian Jefferson had befriended. Monroe and Short were planning to buy land near Monticello, and Jefferson was urging Madison to do the same. Jefferson argued that rational society was among life’s most valuable gratifications: “It informs the mind, sweetens the temper, chears our spirits, and promotes health.” In such company, he told his friend, “I could once more venture home and lay myself up for the residue of life, quitting all its contentions which grow daily more and more insupportable. Think of it. To render it practicable only requires you to think it so.”23 Jefferson’s sense of the possible is impressive. His advice to Madison applies to everyone. Those who think about the barriers that stand in their way will never reach their goals; those who concentrate on their goals will surmount the intervening barriers with ease.
Jefferson’s Monticello dreams would have to wait. On May 7, 1784, Congress appointed him minister plenipotentiary and commissioned him to negotiate treaties of amity and commerce with foreign powers. The appointment would take him to Paris, where John Adams and Benjamin Franklin would join him in this commission. With little hesitation, Jefferson accepted the appointment.
The commission took Jefferson away from what he saw as the tedium, pettiness, and drudgery of Congress. Complaints about Congressional inefficiency occur throughout the letters Jefferson wrote from Annapolis. The critiques that pepper his correspondence belie the extraordinary accomplishments Jefferson made in this, his last term in Congress: he calculated the best possible location for a permanent home for Congress, formulated a plan for carving out new states from the western territories, and designed a decimal system of coinage for the United States. His study of permanent locations for Congress ultimately helped to establish Washington, D.C., as the national capital. In his plan for the western territories, the future states of Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, and Ohio are clearly discernible in nascent form. And the decimal system of coinage Jefferson designed was soon implemented and remains in use today. Take a nickel from your pocket: it almost winks.
After being appointed minister plenipotentiary, Jefferson grew anxious to leave Annapolis but lingered here a few days longer to settle his accounts and divest himself of the personal belongings he had accumulated during his five months here. He sold his home furnishings and his Annapolis library to James Monroe. Since the library consisted mainly of French books he had accumulated recently, Jefferson realized that instead of shipping the library to Paris, it would be more convenient for him to sell the books in Annapolis and replace whatever ones he wished to replace in France.
Leaving Maryland the second week of May, he returned to Philadelphia to speak with Aitken again about printing Notes on the State of Virginia. By this time, Jefferson had expanded his manuscript by more than a third. Consequently, Aitken increased his estimate, in terms of both the expense and amount of time it would take to complete. The new estimate was much higher than Jefferson anticipated, but he still wanted Aitken to proceed. When Aitken informed him that the job would take at least three weeks to complete, Jefferson decided against it. He simply could not wait that long. He hoped John Dunlap might print the work more cheaply and expeditiously, but Dunlap was out of town. With the business of his nation rapidly drawing him toward Paris, Jefferson abandoned his hopes of getting Notes on the State of Virginia printed in Philadelphia. Instead, he decided to have it printed in Paris if he could find an affordable, reliable English printer there.
By the time he reached Philadelphia, Jefferson was already imagining what life would be like in Paris. He would be able to rejoin Chastellux, who could put him in touch with the leading litterateurs and philosophes of the day. He especially wished to meet the great naturalist the Comte de Buffon. Having taken Buffon to task in the pages of Notes on the State of Virginia, Jefferson now hoped to enlighten him on the natural history of North America in person. Such thoughts were in his mind when he passed a Philadelphia hatter’s shop one day. The hatter had on display a large panther’s skin. Jefferson bought it on the spot and determined to bring it with him to France and present it to Buffon, tangible proof of Buffon’s mistake regarding North American wildcats.
Before the end of May, Jefferson had his bags packed. Martha, who would accompany her father to Paris, had her bags packed, too, as did James Hemings, who would travel to France with them. With Martha at his side, Jefferson took the reins of the phaeton and headed north from Philadelphia. Hemings accompanied them on horseback. They crossed New Jersey and soon entered New York. There was little room to spare in the phaeton, but Jefferson found a few books on the well-stocked shelves of James Rivington’s New York bookstore he could not live without.
After spending the first week of June in New York, they crossed into Connecticut, where they visited Ezra Stiles, the president of Yale. Given his professional responsibilities as an educator, Stiles was curious to compare his institution with the College of William and Mary. He and Jefferson discussed this subject and others during their time together. Politics and astronomy formed prominent topics of conversation, as their writings suggest. The year before, Stiles had championed Jefferson as the author of the Declaration of Independence, the man who “poured the soul of the continent into the monumental act of independence.”24 The letters the two exchanged after Jefferson reached Paris reveal their shared interest in astronomy and other scientific topics. Overall, Stiles was quite impressed. He found Jefferson “a most ingenuous Naturalist and Philosopher, a truly scientific and learned Man, and every way excellent.”25
From Connecticut, the three travelers passed through Rhode Island to Massachusetts, reaching Boston the third week of June. Here, they arranged to cross the ocean aboard the Ceres, a new vessel owned by Boston merchant Nathaniel Tracy, who would be taking the trip with them. Since the Ceres would not leave until the first week of July, Jefferson took the opportunity to extend his American odyssey farther north. Leaving Martha in Boston, he ventured into New Hampshire.
Jefferson left no picaresque travel narrative of his journey from Monticello to New Hampshire. Instead, he wrote “Notes on Commerce of the North States,” a detailed set of answers to a list of queries drawn up for each state. Remarks he made to George Washington that year reveal the underlying reasons why Jefferson studied its commerce in such detail during his American odyssey: “All the world is becoming commercial. Were it practicable to keep our new empire separated from them we might indulge ourselves in speculating whether commerce contributes to the happiness of mankind. But we cannot separate ourselves from them. Our citizens have had too full a taste of the comforts furnished by the arts and manufactures to be debarred the use of them. We must then in our own defence endeavor to share as large a portion as we can of this modern source of wealth and power.”26 Undoubtedly useful when he composed them, these copious commercial notes, when considered as a literary account of his journey, leave a lot to be desired.
Though he left nothing like Chastellux’s Travels, Jefferson did observe much else besides the commercial aspects of the American states he visited. In a subsequent letter to Chastellux, he summarized his general impressions of the people he met along the way, especially compared to those he knew in Virginia. Jefferson gave his French friend a candid assessment of the personality traits of Americans from the South compared to those from the North. In the North, he observed, Americans are cool, sober, laborious, persevering, interested, and chicaning. In the South, alternatively, Americans are fiery, voluptuary, indolent, unsteady, generous, and candid. Jefferson’s clever diction and sense of balance reveal the care he took crafting this letter. In the northern states, people are “jealous of their own liberties, and just to those of others.” He offered an implicit critique of slavery as he said, in contrast, that Americans in the South are “zealous for their own liberties, but trampling on those of others.” In the North, people are “superstitious and hypocritical in their religion.” In the South, they are “with
out attachment or pretensions to any religion but that of the heart.”27 In one particular personality trait, Americans from North and South precisely coincide. Regardless which state they call home, Americans everywhere are independent.
PART III
OUR MAN IN PARIS
CHAPTER 20
Bookman in Paris
Boston harbor was cloaked in darkness as the Ceres left its mooring shortly before sunrise in early July 1784. The new minister plenipotentiary, his eleven-year-old daughter, and their coachman were snugly aboard, with their considerable baggage stored in its hold. Having driven his phaeton all the way from Monticello, Jefferson was not about to leave it behind. He had it carefully disassembled, crated, and brought aboard as part of his personal luggage. He planned to uncrate it in Le Havre de Grace and make his way to Paris at its reins. Like so many Americans after him, Jefferson was particular about his mode of travel and preferred having his own set of wheels wherever he went.
By noon the following day, the Ceres had covered nearly 150 miles. With the passage of another day, Jefferson found himself sufficiently adjusted to sea travel that he was able to do something he loved: keep records. Into his memorandum book, he noted latitude, longitude, distance traveled, temperature, and wind direction. He would continue to keep such statistics every day for the duration of the voyage. He also maintained a list of what he called “miscellaneous circumstances”: remarkable occurrences and interesting sights during the voyage.1 In their first few days at sea, they saw stormy petrels, a sight Jefferson duly noted. Superstitious sailors considered these birds evil omens. As their name suggests, they were harbingers of bad weather. For the time being, the Jeffersons enjoyed fair conditions. On Sunday, the sailors caught some cod—fresh fish for Sunday dinner—and the Jeffersons saw their first whale.
The Road to Monticello Page 36