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 CilP^RIGHT DEPOSm 
 
THE ^STOEY-OF 
 
 TH0MA3 JEFFEIRiON 
 
FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 FOR YOUNG READERS 
 
 Titles Ready 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON By Joseph Walker 
 JOHN PAUL JONES By C. C. Eraser 
 
 THOMAS JEFFERSON By Gene Stone 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN By J. Walker McSpadden 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN By Clare Tree Major 
 DAVID CROCKETT By Jane Corby 
 
 ROBERT FULTON By L N. McFee 
 
 THOMAS A. EDISON By L N. McFee 
 HARRIET B. STOWE By R. B. MacArthur 
 MARY LYON By H. O. Stengel 
 
 Other Titles in Preparation 
 
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V» » ^^ y. Ji^y 
 FAMOU5 AME^ANS 
 
 ^ THE>STOEYOF ^ 
 
 J TH0MA3 JEFFE^QN * 
 
 * GBNB 5T0NE * 
 
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 BAfiSB <fi. HOPKINS 
 
 NY- I*J- 
 
Copyright, 1922 
 BY BARSE & HOPKINS 
 
 PRIKTED IK THE V. S. A. 
 
 m '2 1922 
 
 ©CI.A677740 
 
 V 
 
PREFACE 
 
 In placing before the young people of 
 America the story of the life of the great and 
 good man, Thomas JeflPerson, the writer has 
 hoped to contribute something, however 
 slight, toward their advancement in upright 
 Americanism. 
 
 If imagination has had some small part in 
 the telling of this, it has been used sparingly 
 in the effort to breathe life again into those 
 long dead days of struggle and growth toward 
 an ideal. 
 
 Acknowledgments are due to many sources, 
 especially to Parton's Life of Thomas Jefer- 
 son. To the biographies written by David 
 Muzzey, James Schouler, John T. Morse, Jr., 
 the writings of Thomas Jefferson himself, and 
 to other historical and biographical works too 
 numerous to mention here, appreciation and 
 thanks are also most gratefully expressed. 
 
 Gene Stone 
 Pasadena, California, 
 June 1, 1922. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. Danger on the Border ... 9 
 
 IL A Challenge 20 
 
 III. Off to College 29 
 
 IV. The Law Student .... 38 
 
 V. Days at Home 46 
 
 VI. The New Governor .... 53 
 VII. A Stormy Wedding Journey . . 63 
 VIII. A Foretaste of War .... 69 
 IX. The Continental Congress . . 83 
 X. A Blow at Virginia .... 91 
 XL The Declaration of Indepen- 
 dence 97 
 
 XII. For Old Virginia 102 
 
 XIII. Governor Jefferson, and the 
 
 Perils of War 109 
 
 XIV. A Traitor's Raid . . . . .116 
 
 XV. A Hair-Breadth Escape . . . 126 
 
 XVI. In Paris .134 
 
 XVIL Home Again . .. .. .. . . 141 
 
 XVIII. President Jefferson . . . .147 
 
 XIX. A Pirate Story 152 
 
 XX. Opening Up the Great West . 160 
 
 XXL A Threat OF War ,167 
 
 XXII. A Final Service to His State . 175 
 
 XXIII. The End of a Busy Life . . . 180 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Thomas Jefferson Frontispiece 
 
 From a portrait from life 
 hy Gilbert Stuart 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 Monticello, the Home of Jefferson ... 63 
 From an old etching 
 
 Drafting the Declaration of Independence . 97 
 Franklin, Jefferson, Livingston, 
 Adams, and Sherman 
 
 Letter from Jefferson to Thomas Paine . . 145 
 
THE STORY OF THOMAS 
 JEFFERSON 
 
 DANGER ON THE BORDER 
 
 A broad band of silver moonlight lay across 
 the rippling surface of the little River Rivanna, 
 flowing rapidly through wilderness and sweep 
 of new-made meadowland, bordered by many 
 a tangle of shrubbery and bending sapling, to 
 mingle with the deeper waters of the James. 
 Old Virginia, then young Virginia, lay asleep. 
 It was a land whose thriving plantations sent 
 over to Mother England their great hogsheads 
 of tobacco, but where the settler's axe still 
 hewed out his farm from the pathless back- 
 woods, and the restless and cruel savage 
 prowled on the war trail or followed the deer. 
 
 Across the ribbon of light the dark head of 
 a horse, flung back as the animal swam with 
 powerful strokes, cut through the current. On 
 its back sat a straight, slender boy of about 
 
 9 
 
10 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 fourteen with a gun across his shoulder. The 
 horse made directly for the shore, plunged 
 once or twice in the sand, and finally scram- 
 bled up the bank to gain footing on a narrow 
 trail among the trees. The boy looked back, 
 jumped down and stamped vigorously, ad- 
 justed something that hung limp behind the 
 saddle and, with a pat of the glistening wet 
 neck, sprang up again and urged the horse 
 forward. 
 
 Both seemed to know the way. When an 
 opening among the thick growth was reached, 
 the pace became a sharp gallop, and before 
 long the lights of a broad, comfortable-look- 
 ing farmhouse gleamed at them from among 
 the trees. 
 
 The boy was Thomas Jefferson, the farm- 
 house was his childhood's home at Shadwell, 
 Virginia. Here in the early days of April, 
 1743, he had been born, and despite the hard- 
 ships of pioneer life he and the other members 
 of a goodly-sized household had seen many 
 happy days. 
 
 To-night as he reached home he found the 
 family gathered about the great fireplace 
 where, in spite of the late spring, a cheerful 
 
V 
 
 THOMAS JEFFERSON 11 
 
 blaze roared up the wide chimney. His mother 
 sat at one side, a wide cradle near her in which 
 a tiny child lay resting among soft coverlets. 
 A group of girls clustered about her, the 
 youngest rocking a doll cradle of her own. 
 Each girl had her own bit of sewing, and the 
 aother's fingers flew busily among her knit- 
 ting needles. His father and a neighbor who 
 had stopped to spend the night on his way 
 home stood together with their backs to the 
 blaze discussing the Indian troubles that were 
 beginning once again to terrify the border. 
 
 "I tell you. Colonel Jefferson," Tom heard 
 the visitor say, "we must call out the men again. 
 It can't be stood longer. Why, Colonel Madi- 
 son sends word from Orange County that the 
 Injuns have raided, murdered and burnt 
 a'most to his very door!" 
 
 Peter Jefferson waved his hand toward a 
 table where a folded paper lay. 
 
 "Read the word that's come from Colonel 
 Washington, wife," he said. "Jane, hand the 
 letter to your mother." 
 
 "Give it to Thomas, dear. Let him read it." 
 
 Tom came forward, greeted the neighbor 
 and took the jjaper to hold it near the light. 
 
12 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 It held a moving story of Indian outrage 
 and horror. General Braddock, whose stub- 
 born pride and ignorance of border warfare 
 had brought upon him and the colonies the ter- 
 rible defeat of nearly two years before, had 
 left the settlers to pay dearly for it. The In- 
 dians seemed to have lost all fear of punish- 
 ment and their war parties were more and 
 more daring and numerous. Whole counties 
 of settlers fled for their lives while the flames 
 that burned many a little cabin consumed the 
 bloody bodies of its inmates. 
 
 Tom read clearly, his voice faltering a lit- 
 tle as he came to the words : 
 
 "The suppHcating tears of the women and 
 the moving petitions of the men melt me with 
 such deadly sorrow that I solemnly declare, if 
 I know my own mind, I could offer myself a 
 willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy, pro- 
 vided that would contribute to the people's 
 ease." 
 
 Colonel Jefferson drew a deep breath as the 
 boy read the name at the end of the letter, 
 "George Washington." 
 
 "Colonel Washington will do all a man can, 
 Mr. Nevin," he said gravely, "and we'll do our 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 13 
 
 best here in Albemarle County. Colonel 
 Madison has written me also. We must go 
 forward within two days." 
 
 He glanced across at his wife, who smiled 
 bravely, although her lips trembled. 
 
 The Jeffersons were a sturdy, happy family. 
 The father, Peter Jefferson, surveyor, planter, 
 colonel of the county, justice-of-the-peace and 
 member of the assembly of the time, and whose 
 ancestors had come, long ago, from old Wales 
 to the colony, was a tall, broad-shouldered, si- 
 lent man, strong enough to be marveled at, 
 even in those days of hardship and vigor. He 
 was fond of books and as clear of mind as he 
 was powerful of muscle. Mrs. Jefferson, a 
 daughter of the fine old Randolph family, was 
 a wise and gentle mother to her growing brood. 
 
 "Won't young Thomas, here, and Miss 
 Jane cheer us up a bit with some music?" asked 
 the visitor, in order to break the tension. 
 
 Tom glanced hesitatingly at his mother, who 
 smiled and nodded. 
 
 "We try for cheerfulness always, Mr. 
 Nevin," she returned. "My husband there in- 
 sists that to be really brave one must be 
 cheery." 
 
14 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 Mr. Nevin glanced at the calm face of 
 Colonel Jefferson. 
 
 "I suppose he gets his philosophy from 
 this," he suggested, his eyes twinkling as he 
 pointed to a shelf of worn books above the fire- 
 place. "Shakespeare — I've often heard of him 
 — and this, what is it — The Spectator, eh. 
 Colonel?" 
 
 Peter Jefferson got up and took down a 
 volume to lay it upon his knee. 
 
 ''There's schooling for a man in the wilder- 
 ness in this, friend Nevin," he said. "Many a 
 time, when I've been out surveying in the 
 woods, I've had it in the bosom of my hunting 
 shirt. If I can bring Tom up to love it as I 
 do, I'll be pretty well pleased." 
 
 Mrs. Jefferson looked across at Tom, who 
 stood tuning up his violin. 
 
 "There's no fear on that score, Peter," she 
 murmured. "Music and books — they're what 
 he loves best." 
 
 Colonel Jefferson drew down his brows and 
 gazed into the fire. 
 
 "True enough. And yet they are not all. 
 A man can't have an independent mind — one 
 that is really free — in a weak body. The body 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 15 
 
 must be looked to. What do you say, neigh- 
 bor?" 
 
 Mr. Nevin laughed and touched the swelling 
 muscles of Colonel Jefferson's arm. 
 
 *'Wa-al, Colonel, it's a text that's got a good 
 preacher in you. I'm told you can stand two 
 thousand-pound hogsheads of tobacco on end 
 with a single motion! I don't doubt the boy's 
 body will be right enough. He's a well grown 
 lad for his age." 
 
 Peter Jefferson smoothed his beard with one 
 large brown hand. "The lad will do well 
 enough, I hope. He gets on with his studies 
 with Mr. Douglas, I believe. But time will 
 tell." 
 
 He leaned forward to help a little girl to his 
 knee. Silence fell upon them, broken by the 
 snapping of the fire, as they listened to the 
 playing of the boy and the singing of his sis- 
 ter. Bits of quicksteps, reels and jigs, simple 
 melodies and tunes followed one another, and 
 the sweet voice of Jane Jefferson, to the boy's 
 accompaniment, filled the room with the quaint 
 music of the old psalm tunes. 
 
 After awhile, at a nod from Mrs. Jefferson, 
 Tom put down his fiddle and Jane took up her 
 
16 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 sewing again. Mr. Nevin was greatly pleased 
 and thanked them with rough but ready ap- 
 preciation. 
 
 "Times change," he went on thoughtfully. 
 "That boy's fiddHn' reminds me of my brother 
 at his age. I remember he played the fiddle 
 at the fair on St. Andrew's Day." He 
 chuckled. "There was twenty of 'em, ma'am, 
 twentj'- fiddlers. I remember how the notice 
 ran: *A fiddle to be played for by twenty fid- 
 dlers, no person to have the liberty of playing 
 unless he bring a fiddle with him !' When Neil 
 heard of it, nothing would do but he must take 
 his fiddle and go. But he couldn't play well 
 enough to win the fiddle. After it was given to 
 a lad of twice his size who played like a whirl- 
 wind, all twenty of 'em got together and 
 played, each one a different time, as hard as 
 they could go it! Wa-al! As for Bedlam! 
 I've heard some rackets in my time, but that 
 one beat 'em all! Such a squeaking and a 
 squawking I never expect to hear again!" 
 
 Colonel Jefferson's rare, deep laugh rang 
 out above the shouts of the children. 
 
 "What else did they do, Mr. Nevin?" asked 
 Tom, moving nearer. 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 17 
 
 The visitor passed his hand through his thin 
 hair thoughtfully. 
 
 "Do? Wa-al, it was a great celebration. 
 Let me see. There was a race. Twenty horses 
 was in it and the course was three miles long. 
 Five pounds was the prize and nobody was 
 allowed to start a horse unless he'd paid in half 
 a pistole. Then twelve boys, each twelve years 
 old, ran a race of a hundred and twelve yards 
 for a hat worth twelve shillings. I won a hat 
 myself that day — a mighty good one, too. 
 Colonel — at cudgelling. Then there was silver 
 buckles that some of the lads wrestled for, a 
 pair of shoes was danced for, and Sally Smith 
 won a pair of fine silk stockings for being the 
 handsomest country maid at the fair — and a 
 mighty proud one she was, too, when she got 
 'em." Mr. Nevin chuckled again. "Oh, 'twas 
 a grand day, Mrs. Jefferson." 
 
 Colonel Jefferson smoothed the little head 
 that lay against him. 
 
 "Times are changing. Folks have little 
 enough heart about here just now for fairs," 
 he said soberly. 
 
 Mrs. Jefferson drew out a needle from her 
 knitting and turned the stocking about. 
 
18 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 "Peace and safety will be won again — even 
 on the border," she said earnestly. "I feel that 
 the time will come when you brave men may 
 stay peacefully at home. The Indians must 
 be conquered!" 
 
 "True; but now — can you be ready to take 
 the trail in two days, Nevin? I must send 
 word to Washington in the morning." 
 
 "I shall be ready, sir," answered the other 
 heartily. "You can count on me to do all I 
 can to get rid of the varmints." 
 
 "Good. We must all stand and act to- 
 gether. That is the only way to make Vir- 
 ginia safe." 
 
 "You are right, sir," agreed Nevin. 
 
 When bedtime came — all too soon — the chil- 
 dren left the three before the fire to resume 
 their talk of Indian troubles and plans for 
 going forward to help the young commander 
 of Virginia's soldiers — Colonel George Wash- 
 ington. 
 
 The dreams of young Thomas Jefferson, 
 that night, as he lay in his bed under the low 
 sloping roof of the farmhouse, were a mixture 
 of fiddlers playing a whirlwind of tunes for a 
 wonderful fiddle, and of painted Indians 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 19 
 
 thirsting for the blood of the settlers, slipping 
 single-file along the forest trails of old Vir- 
 ginia, while his broad-shouldered father and 
 he hurried madly along in hot pursuit. 
 
II 
 
 A CHALLENGE 
 
 Over three years passed away after that 
 night. The storm of Indian troubles that 
 caused Colonel Peter Jefferson many a long 
 march and bloody skirmish was lulled and the 
 brave pioneer himself laid to rest. Thomas, 
 owner now of Shadwell, his father's best farm, 
 but the poorer for the loss of that father, was 
 nearly seventeen. He was ready to go to 
 college, and William and Mary, at Williams- 
 burg, five days' ride from Shadwell, was his 
 goal. 
 
 The boy traveled slowly, stopping now and 
 then for a day or two at the house of some rela- 
 tive or friend. 
 
 When evening was falling, one spring day 
 in 1760, he turned his tired horse into a broad 
 driveway that led towards a white, wide-veran- 
 daed house sitting well back from the road 
 behind a screen of trees. Figures flitting past 
 the lighted windows, the sounds of a violin and 
 
 20 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 21 
 
 gay, laughing voices told of what was going on 
 within. Tom urged his horse. 
 
 A hearty welcome awaited him. After he 
 had been refreshed by a bountiful meal and 
 had hastily changed his clothing from the extra 
 garments he carried in his ample saddle bags, 
 he went down to join the fun below stairs. 
 
 At the doorway he paused. The room into 
 which he looked was a long one with a floor well 
 polished for dancing. At one end was a raised 
 platform and upon it an aged negro sat play- 
 ing the fiddle, patting one large flat foot and 
 nodding his gray woolly head in time to his 
 music. Around the sides of the room were 
 chairs, where a number of persons were sitting 
 about talking. The floor itself was thronged 
 with girls in pretty, billowy gowns of various 
 dainty tints, and young men in long-tailed 
 coats, knee-breeches and buckled shoes. 
 
 A stately minuet was being danced. Pretty 
 girls stepping gracefully, their curls nodding 
 about laughing faces and half hiding sparkhng 
 eyes; tall youths bowing grandly or taking the 
 fingertips of their partners to lead them in dig- 
 nified promenade — what a gay sight it was, and 
 how hard it seemed for a rosy-cheeked young 
 
22 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 blade over near the corner to step about with 
 such dignity! 
 
 When the dance was over, the young people 
 gathered in a knot in the center of the room to 
 hear something the jolly-looking youth had to 
 tell them. In a moment, while Tom still stood 
 hesitating in the doorway, a shout of laughter 
 from the boys and a chorus of merriment from 
 the girls shook the circle apart. 
 
 "Fie, Patrick!*' called a young girl in a 
 dainty blue dress, shaking her fan at him and 
 whirling to catch sight of Tom's tall figure. 
 "Here's our great Cousin Thomas Jefferson 
 who will think you are a hare-brained rascal. 
 He's laughing at us all this minute!" 
 
 Tom, slender, square-shouldered, ungainly, 
 his long coat creased from its narrow quarters 
 in the saddle bag, came forward and stood tow- 
 ering above her. His sandy-red hair was care- 
 fully brushed back from his fine white fore- 
 head and tied in a short queue. His good-na- 
 tured hazel eyes beamed with pleasure, and a 
 broad smile lighted his homely, freckled face. 
 He held out his hand awkwardly to the fun- 
 maker. 
 
 "I'm glad to know you, Mr. Henry," he said, 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 23 
 
 quietly. "You folks seem to be having a good 
 time." 
 
 "Mr. Jefferson. Glad to know you/' 
 
 Patrick Henry shook hands vigorously and 
 then turned briskly around and held up his 
 arms. 
 
 "Let's speed things up!" he called, in a jolly 
 voice. "We'll ask Mr. Jefferson, who I hear 
 fiddles himself, to play. Then 111 give you 
 something that will make everybody's head and 
 heels spin. What do you say?" 
 
 A general chorus of delight drowned young 
 Jefferson's answer, and the party moved with 
 one accord to where Jonah sat blinking as he 
 rested from his labors. Patrick Henry seemed 
 to be master of the fun. 
 
 "Here, Jonah, let me have your little pet 
 there and I'll give it to Mr. Jefferson, who 
 will be mighty kind to it," he commanded, tak- 
 ing the fiddle from the old man's ready hand. 
 "Now, Mr. Jefferson, let's hear something 
 from your noble hand." 
 
 Tom raised his hand. 
 
 "Listen a minute, all of you," he pleaded. 
 "Let's elect Mr. Henry to play. He'll do it 
 better than I can." 
 
24 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 **0h, come now, Cousin Tom!" Barbara put 
 her hand on his arm. *'You know you can 
 play!" 
 
 "Now, Thomas Jefferson," called a short, 
 stout boy, "none of your airs just because 
 you're going to college. Go on!" 
 
 "I'll tell you what let's do!" struck in Bar- 
 bara. "Let's have a fiddler's fair! Patrick 
 against Tom. Challenge him, Tom!" 
 
 "A challenge! A challenge!" 
 
 "Go on, Tom!" 
 
 Patrick Henry, drawing down the corners 
 of his mouth to a solemn gravity, folded his 
 arms and placed himself directly in front of 
 Thomas. 
 
 "What sayest thou?" he inquired sternly. 
 "A challenge, is it? This to m^? Say on!" 
 
 Thomas, still holding the old negro's fiddle 
 under one long arm, looked around the circle 
 and laughed a little. 
 
 "Well, then," he said, "if you're bound to 
 have it! Now then, here it is. Ahem! I chal- 
 lenge you, Patrick Henry, to fiddle against 
 me. Old Jonah shall be the judge." 
 
 A great clapping of hands was his answer 
 as he and Patrick solemnly clasped hands 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 25 
 
 again. Tom handed the fiddle to the other and 
 turned toward the door. 
 
 "I'll just run upstairs and get my own 
 fiddle," he called, over his shoulder. 
 
 When he came back with the little kit, as a 
 small fiddle was called, he found the company 
 seated in a circle about the fiddler's platform, 
 and Patrick Henry standing before it, Jonah's 
 fiddle ready for the trial. Old Jonah, chuck- 
 ling delightedly at the nonsense of "de young 
 white folks," sat in state on the platform, wear- 
 ing a cloak Patrick had placed on his bent 
 shoulders to represent the robes of a judge. 
 
 The "fair" was a jolly one. After a few 
 quick strokes to see whether the kit was in tune 
 or not, and the twist of a peg or two, Thomas 
 began to play. A brisk, pleasant little air 
 came tripping off the strings, and as he played 
 the tall figure of the youth seemed to lose some 
 of its lanky awkwardness in the skill of the 
 musician. At the last note, Patrick Henry 
 flourished his bow and, striking it on the strings 
 with a bounce, broke into a rollicking country 
 jig that set everybody's feet keeping time. A 
 shuffling sound was heard from the veranda, 
 where the house negroes were standing, their 
 
26 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 white teeth gleaming as they watched the 
 scene. 
 
 "Hyah, hyah!" chuckled a fat negress. 
 "Dat Marse Henry he sho kin scrape de old 
 fiddle!" She nodded her turbaned head in 
 time. "Dat Misto Jef'son cain't hoi' a 
 can'le " 
 
 "Sho, Sukie! De quality '11 heah yo! Jes 
 wait 'twell Marse Tom gits limbered up an' 
 den dey ain't no Marse Henrys in de worF 
 kin ketch him! I done heard him befo'!" 
 
 Patrick's jig gave place to a reel on 
 Thomas's kit and that, in turn, to another from 
 Patrick Henry, each faster and more furious 
 than the last. It seemed that mortal fingers 
 could fly no faster, and the whites of old 
 Jonah's eyeballs shone in the candlelight as he 
 roUed them. At the end of Tom's last tune, 
 which was a veritable whirlwind, Patrick threw 
 up his hands. 
 
 "I'm done for!" he called out. "He's a 
 mountain-peak of song! He's a mocking-bird 
 and a nightingale in one. He's a — well, he's 
 everything I'm not with a fiddle. I surrender 
 without the honors of war!" 
 
 Chuckling with delight, Jonah broke into a 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 27 
 
 gay tune, partners were chosen in a hurry, and 
 Thomas Jefferson, " Patrick Henry, Barbara 
 and the rest were soon hard at it again, all of 
 their former attempts at style and stateliness 
 forgotten. 
 
 When the dancing was at last over, and the 
 girls and their mothers and cousins and aunts 
 of elder years had trooped up the wide stair to 
 their rooms, the boys stood or sat about the 
 fireplace for a final talk. Tom found Patrick 
 Henry beside him, and before many minutes 
 their talk turned to the College of William and 
 Mary and the town of Williamsburg. 
 
 "You've been to Williamsburg, of course?" 
 he asked. 
 
 Patrick shook his head and sighed. 
 
 "Not yet, but I'll be there before I'm much 
 older. I've been reading about it, though — 
 everything I can get. It's a fine place. Wait, 
 I've a paper here that tells something." 
 
 The two bent over the page while Patrick 
 read aloud : 
 
 " The city of Williamsburg, which is the seat of 
 the vice-regal court, a court that is second only to 
 that of St. James in London in elegance, is gayest in 
 the wintertime. Then, the carriages of the gentry. 
 
28 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 the entertainments given at the palace and the splen- 
 dor and wealth of the fashionable world make it a 
 center of refinement and beauty ! " 
 
 Thomas drew a long breath. 
 
 "So that's what it's like," he murmured, half 
 to himself, and sat back thinking, his long 
 square chin on his hand, while Patrick Henry 
 and the others went on talking. 
 
Ill 
 
 OFF TO COLLEGE 
 
 The next morning Thomas Jefferson con- 
 tinued his journey towards Williamsburg, the 
 capital of Virginia and seat of William and 
 Mary College. For five days, now, he had 
 been plodding patiently along, crossing a 
 winding brook, or following a narrow trail 
 under overhanging branches that sometimes 
 reached far enough downward almost to sweep 
 him from the saddle, or again picking his way 
 carefully through the thick mud of the unkept 
 road. 
 
 At last he could make out a cluster of trees. 
 His heart leaped as he thought he saw among 
 them the stately spires of the town. 
 
 "Williamsburg!" he exclaimed, under his 
 breath, urging Admiral to a gallop. 
 
 The way now led between great dark green 
 fields of tobacco that stretched their broad 
 acres as far away on each side as his eyes could 
 reach. Now and then a man passed him on 
 
 29 
 
30 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 horseback, greeting him with the hearty polite- 
 ness of country travelers unspoiled by city life. 
 Thomas replied gravely and pleasantly, but 
 kept to himself and rode on alone. A lumber- 
 ing stage coach and a wagon laden with empty 
 hogsheads rumbled by, the latter driven by a 
 young negro singing a jovial tune. The 
 winding roadway led him at last straight into 
 the heart of Williamsburg. The lanky coun- 
 try boy, who had never before beheld even so 
 small a town as this village of a couple of hun- 
 dred houses and a thousand people, drew rein 
 to admire it, his face lighted with wonder and 
 interest. 
 
 At length, riding down the broad street, 
 which he calculated must be all of one hundred 
 feet wide, guiding Admiral now and then to 
 avoid stepping into a gully, he reached the 
 public square. Here he paused again to gaze 
 at the public buildings with their stately trees 
 and well-kept grounds. The capitol he had 
 already passed, looking up at it with awe and 
 admiration. The street, the only one the town 
 boasted, stretched away toward the college. 
 Catching sight of the brick building half- 
 hidden among graceful trees, Tom touched 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 31 
 
 Admiral with the whip and galloped toward it, 
 with eyes and thoughts now for nothing else. 
 
 As he came nearer he could see, besides the 
 main building of two stories with its inspiring 
 belfry, several smaller structures that looked 
 more like dwellings than halls of learning. 
 He supposed that possibly the professors 
 lived in those. Well-worn paths led among 
 the trees and grass from each to the large main 
 entrance of the principal building. 
 
 Tom reined Admiral down to a sober walk 
 as he entered the grounds, his heart beating 
 high with hope and excitement at having at 
 last actually arrived at the place of his dreams 
 — college itself! It seemed unreal, somehov/, 
 and as if he were still out hunting deer on the 
 hillside with James Maury, the two talking of 
 how "some day" they would be college men. 
 But here he was, and Admiral, wet and tired 
 with his journey, was jogging along the ave- 
 nue toward a white hitching place near the 
 front steps. 
 
 Two young men were standing there, talk- 
 ing gayly, one of them holding his three-cor- 
 nered hat in his hand and now and then tap- 
 ping his companion on the shoulder with it. 
 
32 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 They paused to glance toward the newcomer, 
 who dismounted, buckled his bridle over the 
 railing, and strode toward the steps. He was 
 about to pass them with a shy nod, when one 
 stepped forward holding out his hand. 
 
 "Excuse me, sir, but I can't help thinking 
 you are newly come to college?" he inquired in 
 a pleasant voice. 
 
 Thomas paused, his long face lighting up 
 as he took the hand offered. 
 
 "My name is Page," went on the speaker, 
 turning to introduce his friend; "and this 
 fellow here in the green coat is Burk, one of 
 the high lights of the place." 
 
 "Now, Page, don't lose me my reputa- 
 tion that way! I'm glad to welcome you, 
 Mr— a " 
 
 "Thomas Jefferson," said Tom, laughing, 
 "and glad to meet one or two high lights so 
 soon." 
 
 "You look travel worn, Mr. Jefferson. 
 Here, Burk, let's carry him up to our study 
 and let him shake off some of this confounded 
 WilHamsburg dust before he interviews the 
 powers. Come, Mr. Jefferson, this way." 
 
 Thomas followed his guides along a wide 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 33 
 
 hallway, up a flight of wooden stairs, and 
 down a narrow corridor to a room, the door 
 of which Page threw open with a flourish. 
 
 "Behold the place where Burk, future author 
 of the 'Annals of Williamsburg Society,' and 
 other learned works, holds forth. Enter with- 
 out fear, sir!" 
 
 It was a comfortable looking room, its 
 furniture showing signs of wear and some ill 
 usage. Over the mantel hung a pair of rapiers 
 with a fencer's mask, and in one corner two 
 long-barreled guns stood against the wall. A 
 long-eared hunting dog jumped from a sofa 
 and came forward, working his whole body 
 and whining with delight. The whole atmos- 
 phere of the place was one of good fellow- 
 ship, but the pile of well-thumbed books on 
 the table beside the window showed that study 
 had its share, too, in the life of the two 
 inmates. 
 
 The friends made Tom feel thoroughly at 
 ease. After he had brushed his clothing and 
 refreshed himself, Page took him down to 
 register and go through the necessary formali- 
 ties of becoming a real college student. He 
 insisted on bringing Tom back with him, and 
 
34 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 he and Burk gave the new student various bits 
 of information regarding college ways and 
 life. 
 
 "We're due for a battle with the toWh t>oys 
 again before long. With that long arm of 
 yours and those shoulders, you'll be a rein- 
 forcement worth having," remarked Burk, 
 looking at Tom's strong spare frame thought- 
 fully. "Won't he, Page?" 
 
 "Battle? How's that?" asked Tom curi- 
 ously. 
 
 "Oh, we have 'em once a year or thereabouts. 
 It helps to keep things Uvely. Have you seen 
 any of our educated Indians yet?" 
 
 "Hasn't had time, of course," put in Page. 
 "Remember, Burk, you absent-minded genius, 
 he's new-hatched — not an old bird like you. 
 Give him time." 
 
 "Why no. I didn't know " Tom looked 
 
 curious. 
 
 "Oh, well, of course you didn't," agreed 
 Burk, casually throwing a cushion at Page. 
 "We've a few. A lot of the money the college 
 runs on was given for the purpose of teaching 
 Indians. Much good it does 'em, and precious 
 little they'll take, anyhow." 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 35 
 
 "What are you going to make a specialty of, 
 Mr. Jeiferson?" asked Burk, presently, from 
 the sofa, where he had thrown himself full 
 length. "Theology?" 
 
 Tom shook his head. 
 
 "No. I've been digging away at Latin and 
 Greek since I was nine, and I think I'd like a 
 little mathematics." 
 
 Page nodded thoughtfully. 
 
 "That's good. The college has been filling 
 up with a crowd of boys this last year or two, 
 studying their very first Latin. I tell you, 
 Mr. Jefferson, it's getting hard to tell whether 
 this is a grammar school, an Indian school, or 
 a college! We have mission teachers, school- 
 masters, and what not. Of course we have a 
 professor of divinity and one of moral phil- 
 osophy and all that. Then the president him- 
 self gives four lectures on theology every 
 year " 
 
 "Who gives the mathematics?" asked Tom 
 anxiously. 
 
 Burk sat up suddenly. 
 
 "The one man in William and Mary most 
 worth listening to," he exclaimed, "and, unless 
 I'm getting short-sighted in my old age, he's 
 
36 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 coming up the avenue this minute. Come on 
 down, Jefferson* and I'll introduce you." 
 
 Seizing Tom's arm, he rushed him out the 
 door and down the stairs in time to meet a 
 slender, scholarly-looking man who was com- 
 ing very deliberately into the front hall. As 
 the two boys came forward, the gentleman 
 paused and, noting the shy flush on Tom's 
 freckled cheeks, smiled a little and looked at 
 the newcomer inquiringly. Burk bowed. 
 
 **Dr. SmaU," he said, respectfully, "Mr. 
 Jefferson has just come, and I know he doesn't 
 wish to lose any time in being introduced to 
 you." 
 
 Tom bowed, as did the doctor. 
 
 "Welcome to William and Mary, Mr. 
 Jefferson," said Dr. Small, in a broad Scotch 
 accent. Then the man who, as Thomas 
 Jefferson wrote many years afterward, was 
 to "fix the destinies" of his life, took him by 
 the hand. 
 
 Such was the entrance of Jefferson into one 
 of the earliest of the American colleges, and 
 here for the next two years the tall, sandy- 
 haired youth attended classes. Here also he 
 made some life-long friends, among them 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 37 
 
 more than one who was to make a name for 
 himself on the pages of Virginia's history. 
 
 But the laughing, talking group on the 
 campus that first day little dreamed of the 
 great work ahead of them, a few years later. 
 
IV 
 
 THE LAW STUDENT 
 
 Two years were not long in rolling by. The 
 first one sped so fast, filled as it was with fun 
 among the young people and pleasant concerts 
 and dinners at the governor's parties, balls, 
 and rides, that it must have seemed to Tom 
 that old Father Time had spread his white 
 wings and whizzed off into space with the earth 
 spinning along at a great rate behind him. 
 
 The expense of this first year, when Tom 
 counted it up, filled him with shame. He had 
 spent a good deal on his horses, for one thing. 
 Then, too, his clothes had cost a pretty penny. 
 Considering that Shadwell did not provide 
 what we should call a large income, he felt that 
 he had been extravagant. He thought he 
 ought to do better the second year. When 
 Thomas Jefferson made up his mind to do a 
 thing it was as good as done. His carefulness 
 in the second term made up for his carelessness 
 in the first. 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 39 
 
 Fifteen hours a day of reading and study 
 became his rule, with the parties left out, the 
 horses sent away, the fiddle put aside, and only 
 a sharp two-mile run every day for exercise. 
 Nobody without a will of iron, a perfectly 
 healthy body and a mind keen for learning 
 could have done it. His reward came in grad- 
 uation and a college degree, at the end of the 
 second year. 
 
 One day, as he was passing the capitol, he 
 met his friend Mr. Wythe, who was just com- 
 ing out. 
 
 "Ah, Jefferson!" called the lawyer, waving 
 his hand. "Well met! I've been wanting a 
 word or two with you. Won't you come over 
 to my chambers for awhile, if you've nothing 
 better to do?" 
 
 Tom fell into step beside his friend. 
 
 "I'd like nothing better, Mr. Wythe. I've 
 been studying until I need a change." 
 
 As the two sat down in the book-lined office, 
 Tom sighed a little. He was rather tired and 
 the big armchair near the window was a com- 
 fortable one to lounge in. Wythe dropped 
 into another chair and leaned back. 
 
 "Court was tiresome to-day," he said, 
 
40 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 smothering a yawn behind his hand. "Long 
 arguments on fine points are apt to make a 
 person tired." 
 
 Tom looked thoughtful. 
 
 "Well, I suppose so," he agreed, "but it's a 
 wonderful study, isn't it? It takes in every- 
 thing the greatest minds have thought of to 
 protect the rights of mankind, doesn't it?" 
 
 Mr. Wythe looked pleased. 
 
 "Yes, it's a great study. You know, Jeffer- 
 son, I've been wanting to ask you what you're 
 planning on doing. Graduation's not very far 
 away and if I could be of any help " 
 
 He paused. Tom's long face brightened 
 gratefuUy. 
 
 "That's kind of you," he said simply. 
 "Well, to be frank with you, I must plan on 
 some sort of a career. Shadwell, you know, 
 was left me by my father. My brother Ran- 
 dolph has the estate on the James. It's my 
 affair, of course, to provide for my mother and 
 my six sisters. So, you see, I must get to 
 work." 
 
 "I see." Mr. Wythe leaned back and placed 
 the tips of his fingers together absently. 
 "What sort of a career would you like?" 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 41 
 
 Tom rubbed his chin. 
 
 *'Well, I'd hke nothing better than to be an 
 architect," he murmured, looking dreamily out 
 of the window. "Or, if I could be a musi- 
 cian " 
 
 Mr. Wythe shifted in his chair and frowned. 
 Tom went on. 
 
 "But there's no scope for that sort of thing 
 in Virginia, and I can't go abroad, as things 
 are. Then, I've thought of the army and the 
 na\y, but somehow I don't feel that I'm fitted 
 for either." 
 
 "How about the law?" suggested Mr. Wythe 
 dryly. 
 
 "That's what I've settled on," said Tom 
 decidedly. "I have a taste for it, and if I can 
 do it thoroughly " 
 
 His hearer got up and crossed the room to 
 lean against the mantel. 
 
 "If I can help you there I'd like to do it. 
 How would you like to study law under my 
 direction?" 
 
 Tom turned and the two looked at each other 
 a moment without speaking, while a quick 
 surge of color mounted to the boy's forehead. 
 
 "I'd like nothing better in the world, Mr. 
 
42 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 Wythe," he replied quietly. "But can you 
 take the time and trouble, a man of your stand- 
 ing and " 
 
 Wythe held up one hand. 
 
 "Tut-tut, Tom! It wiU be a pleasure. Say 
 no more about it. The thing's settled. Now, 
 the only question is, when do you wish to 
 begin?" 
 
 "With the new year. Seventeen hundred 
 and sixty-three or^ht to find me beginning my 
 new work. I suppose about five years would 
 be right, wouldn't it?" 
 
 "Enough to start on, anyway. You ought 
 to be able to catch up with Patrick Henry by 
 that time." The lawyer laughed. 
 
 "Well, Henry doesn't care for study, and 
 as far as I know he isn't trying to practice. 
 Well, then, I'll be going home to Shadwell 
 about Christmas. I'll get your instructions 
 then as to how to begin the law." 
 
 He arose and held out his hand. 
 
 "I can't thank you, Mr. Wythe," he stam- 
 mered. "I— I'll try " 
 
 Wythe laid his hand over the boy's. 
 
 "That part of it is all right. I'll see that you 
 do us both credit," he promised good-naturedly. 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 43 
 
 When college was at last over, Thomas went 
 to a grand ball given in the Apollo, as the 
 large ballroom in the Raleigh tavern was 
 called, and had the pleasure of taking, of all 
 the pretty girls in the world, none other than 
 Miss Rebecca Burwell. A fine time he had, 
 too, and when he said good-bye to Miss 
 Rebecca, thinking how sorry he was to leave 
 her in Williamsburg while he traveled one 
 hundred and fifty miles away, she made him a 
 present of a little picture painted by herself 
 and cut to carry in his watch-case. 
 
 With this picture put carefully inside his 
 watch, and the timepiece itself safe inside his 
 waistcoat pocket ; with his kit and a roll of new 
 music, and with his box packed with law books, 
 Tom set out for home. He intended to spend 
 the winter there studying law. 
 
 As usual he made the journey slowly, as he 
 had many invitations to spend a few days here 
 and there along the way. Christmas overtook 
 him half a day's ride from home. The house of 
 a friend welcomed the traveler, and a jolly 
 Christmas of feasting, songs and games fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 But that night brought with it what seemed 
 
44 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 to Tom a dreadful misfortune. Unluckily, his 
 bedroom roof was in need of mending, and the 
 Weather Clerk either did not know it or did 
 not care, for the winter skies let fall a tre- 
 mendous drizzle all night long. To make the 
 matter worse, rats bothered him. 
 
 When morning came at last, Tom's pocket- 
 book had been chewed up and his money was 
 gone! But this was not the worst. His 
 "jemmy-worked silk garters" had been carried 
 away by the ambitious little burglars and, yet 
 more sorrow! His watch was lying in a pud- 
 dle of water, its solemn tick-tick stilled. Tom 
 rushed to it and opened the case. The precious 
 watch paper of Miss Rebecca was soaked! 
 Trying to take it out to dry was of no use. 
 It was so wet that his long fingers went through 
 it, and there, gone — completely gone — ^was the 
 work of the dearest girl in the world ! 
 
 Tom dressed very soberly after that, tied up 
 his long stockings the best he could, put his 
 equally silent watch into his pocket, and went 
 downstairs to say good-bye. 
 
 That evening found him at home once more 
 with his mother, Jane, Martha and the others, 
 gathered about the roaring old fireplace at 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 45 
 
 Shadwell, telling of his doings at college; of 
 the sights of the little city of two hundred 
 houses, the wonderful capital of Virginia; of 
 the balls, the girls, and, best of all, of his 
 wonderful chum, John Page. 
 
DAYS AT HOME 
 
 'What, idle, Tom?" 
 
 Jane pushed back a screen of the first deli- 
 cate spring leaves and stepped through to join 
 her brother, who sat on a grassy hillock over- 
 looking the river. Law books were strewn 
 about him, and one lay open on his knee, but 
 his eyes were dreamy and he was watching the 
 flight of a lonely bird over the trees. The girl, 
 tall and slender, with gentle eyes and a pale, 
 delicate face, slipped down beside him and 
 picked up one of the books. 
 
 *'Why, no — not exactly, Jane. Just digest- 
 ing a little of this dry fodder," he laughed, 
 sweeping the books aside to make room for 
 her. "How does it come that you're not 
 busy?" 
 
 She put her hand on his shoulder and 
 patted it. 
 
 "I've been thinking, too, Tom," she said; 
 "and I want to ask you something." 
 
 46 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 47 
 
 "Go ahead, sister." 
 
 "Now that you're nearly twenty-one, Tom, 
 why not think of the things that you can do for 
 Shadwell and the folks about here?" 
 
 He sat up straight and brought down his fist 
 on the back of a great law book. 
 
 "It's what I'm going to do, Jane. I've been 
 thinking about it, but I've been mooning over 
 the good times in Williamsburg, too. I'll quit 
 that. Dabney and I've been talking over a 
 scheme to have the Rivanna River dredged out. 
 It would help the farmers to send their stuff 
 to market by water instead of over these awful 
 roads. Don't you think it would be a good 
 thing?" 
 
 "Splendid!" 
 
 "Well, I'm going to take it up, get the 
 farmers to subscribe the money, get permis- 
 sion from the legislature, and " 
 
 "Why, Tom, we'll be able to travel on the 
 river, perhaps! How wonderful!" 
 
 "Well, it's just something needs doing, 
 that's all. Now I'm nearly twenty-one, as you 
 say " 
 
 "Oh, Tom! What are you going to do on 
 your birthday? Let's have a gay time!" 
 
48 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 "'I believe I'll have an avenue of locust trees 
 planted to celebrate it." 
 
 "That's a good idea, but why not sycamores? 
 They're such beautiful trees!" Jane's eyes 
 were bright with interest. "Do have syca- 
 mores, Tom, or, better stiU, have both. They'll 
 look well together." 
 
 "Good idea! You're full of them, Jane. 
 We'll do it. Dabney's coming over this after- 
 noon early and we're going up into the hills 
 for awhile. It's time I had a horse brought 
 out." 
 
 Dabney Carr found Tom hard at work in his 
 room. Dabney was a handsome young man a 
 little older than Tom, and he, too, was a student 
 just beginning to practice law. He came in 
 tapping his long riding boots with a slender 
 whip. Tom stood up. 
 
 "Be ready in a second, Dabney. Wait till 
 I get my coat." 
 
 Dabney looked at the pile of account books 
 on which Tom had been working. 
 
 "I say, Tom, you're the most painstaking 
 person I ever knew. I'd give a penny to look 
 over those account books of yours — ^but I 
 wouldn't write 'em up for a penny!" 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 49 
 
 "Well, take a look if you care about it," 
 called Tom from the next room. 
 
 Dabney took up one of the books. 
 
 "Hello! What's all this? Your writing's 
 so fine, Thomas, my son, that it strains my 
 poor old eyes. Well, now, here's something 
 vital, to be sure! 'Garden Book.' Humph! 
 
 'March 30, sowed a patch of later peas ; 
 July 15, planted out celery; 
 July 22, had the last dish of spring peas ;' 
 
 "Um! That's last year. Now for this: 
 * Weather Book.' I declare, Tom, this is fine 
 writing! If I'd known I'd have brought a pair 
 of glasses. 
 
 " 'March 24, at 6 :30 a. m. ther. 27°, barom. 25° ; 
 wind N.W. weather clear after rain ; Blue Ridge and 
 higher parts of S.W. mountain covered with snow. 
 No snow here but much ice; black frost.' 
 
 "Well, it was cold in March last year. But 
 why on earth do you write that sort of thing 
 down every day, and Heaven only knows how 
 much else?" 
 
 Tom drew on his coat. 
 
50 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 *'Well, it's only by keeping records a person 
 ever finds out anything about nature, for one 
 thing," he explained. "And as for accounts 
 and so on, it's a habit. Suppose I get it from 
 Father, He was always figuring about his 
 surveying or something else. I'm ready. 
 Come on." 
 
 They gathered up Tom's law books and 
 went out to the horses. 
 
 It was a clear, sunny day in early April. 
 The sky hung like a blue curtain above the 
 hills, a curtain on which far away was painted 
 just a hint of gray, as if old Mother Nature 
 was considering a late afternoon shower. The 
 two young men galloped along gayly and 
 turned into a trail that led up the side of a 
 small mountain whose slopes and summit were 
 covered with a heavy growth of trees. 
 
 At the top was a thick copse and within this 
 a mighty oak tree held out wide branches filled 
 with dancing young leaves. Beneath them was 
 a rude seat which Tom and Dabney had made. 
 
 "Let's settle down here," suggested Tom, 
 putting his books on the bench. "I'm going to 
 read Coke this afternoon, Dab. Dry old 
 scoundrel! But I'm beginning to like him." 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 51 
 
 Dabney threw himself down, peering among 
 the bushes out across the valley. 
 
 "Tom," he said suddenly, "let's promise 
 each other something. It comes over me 
 to-day that this is just the place I'd want to 
 be buried in, up here with the valley and the 
 woods, the river and all that down there." He 
 waved his hand. Let's make a compact. 
 Whichever one outlives the other is to see the 
 other's buried right here. What do you say?" 
 
 Tom looked astonished and then, as his eyes 
 wandered toward the view of quiet mountain 
 and valley, woodland and river, a dreamy look 
 came into them. 
 
 "I promise, Dabney," he said, seriously. 
 "But what makes you so quiet to-day? Better 
 look out! I believe you're thinking of some- 
 thing besides your law. Out with it ! What's 
 in the wind?" 
 
 Dabney got up and sat down on the bench, 
 his face flushing a little. 
 
 "Well, Tom, to tell the truth I've been try- 
 ing to tell you. It's just — Martha and I " 
 
 Tom whistled. 
 
 "Martha! Why, Dabney! Are you two— ?" 
 
 Dabney nodded. 
 
52 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 "Going to be married. How'll you like me 
 for a brother, Tom?" 
 
 Tom seized his hand and wrung it. 
 
 "Oh, this is good news, Dabney!" he cried, 
 joyfully. "I can't read law to-day. Let's go 
 down and talk things over with the girls." 
 
VI 
 
 THE NEW GOVERNOR 
 
 A sunny May day, in 1769, laid its blessing 
 upon the little town of Williamsburg, whose 
 long street, from the capitol with its portico 
 and colmnns far out almost to the brick-built 
 college was lined, bright and early, with every 
 one of its inhabitants able to be out, to say 
 nothing of the whites and blacks who had 
 driven, ridden or trudged afoot into town from 
 the country. 
 
 The crowd craned their necks. Down the 
 street a gorgeous coach, carved and gilded, its 
 footmen and coachmen in bright livery, pre- 
 ceded and followed by a guard of soldiers, 
 rolled slowly along. Eight milk-white horses, 
 in the gayest of trappings, with glossy coats 
 and beribboned manes and tails, drew this 
 wonderful vehicle, the gift, so it was said, of 
 King George himself. 
 
 The new governor, Lord Botetourt, sent 
 
 53 
 
54 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 over by his majesty, was on his way to open the 
 Virginia parliament. 
 
 The assembly chamber of the capitol was a 
 long room with seats and desks arranged about 
 the floor in orderly lines. Facing them were 
 the platform and chair of the speaker. A little 
 to one side stood a high reading-desk where the 
 clerk of the House stood to call the roll. 
 
 Members of the House were standing about 
 talking. Among them were Thomas Jefferson 
 and Patrick Henry, for our old friend Tom 
 and the jolly youth of the "fiddlers' fair" had 
 both been elected. Thomas Jefferson had not 
 only become a lawyer, but a thoroughly well- 
 read one. Colonel George Washington, too, 
 tall, fine-looking and grave, stood talking with 
 them. 
 
 A small man had taken his place before the 
 members, after they had filed in to the hall, 
 and they listened gravely to his message. 
 
 "Gentlemen, the Governor commands this 
 House to attend His Excellency immediately 
 in the council chamber." 
 
 Everybody arose forthwith. The House of 
 Burgesses, followed by a few of the bolder 
 among the spectators, filed through the door- 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 55 
 
 way and down the corridor. When they 
 reached the council chamber, they formed 
 themselves into a half-circle before the throne, 
 where Governor Lord Botetourt sat waiting 
 for them. 
 
 The ceremony was disappointingly short. 
 The Governor greeted the members of the 
 House formally and commanded them to 
 return at once to their chamber and elect a 
 speaker, or presiding ofBcer. Then the same 
 solemn procession passed along the corridor to 
 the chamber of the House. 
 
 When the Burgesses had once more settled 
 themselves in their places, a vote was taken, 
 and Peyton Randolph elected their speaker. 
 This done, two members were sent to tell the 
 Governor that the House of Burgesses had 
 obeyed his commands. After the members had 
 returned and taken their seats, there was a 
 short period of waiting and then the clerk 
 arrived to give them the command of the 
 Governor. 
 
 Such was the legislature of which Thomas 
 Jefferson had become a member. 
 
 But all these polite ceremonies did not put 
 down or conceal a f eehng of uneasiness on the 
 
56 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 part of both Governor Lord Botetourt and 
 the Virginia legislature. True, the English 
 parliament had repealed the Stamp Act to 
 which the Americans had so bitterly objected 
 some three years before, that act by which it 
 had tried to make the colonists pay taxes to 
 England against their will; but, being deter- 
 mined to tax the people of the colonies some- 
 how, it had declared that they should pay 
 certain sums whenever they brought paper, tea, 
 glass and some other things from across the 
 Atlantic. This was called a tax on imports. 
 It also seemed unjust to the colonists, who 
 thought it did not seem right that, without their 
 having a word to say in the matter, or the privi- 
 lege of electing somebody to go to parliament 
 for them, the Enghsh government could force 
 them to pay taxes. It is true that the colonies 
 of other nations were taxed by their mother 
 countries, but the Americans were used to the 
 "rights of Englishmen" and those rights they 
 intended to keep. 
 
 The English laws compelling the colonies to 
 do virtually all their foreign buying and selling 
 with England alone, and those that forbade 
 certain manufacturing in them were also the 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 57 
 
 cause of a great deal of angry feeling. Many 
 of the peojjle of England sympathized with 
 these ideas, even in the English parliament 
 itself, but even such men as William Pitt, 
 Edmund Burke, Conway and Fox could not 
 turn back the King, with Lord North and his 
 other supporters, from the path that was lead- 
 ing straight to the American revolution. 
 
 So it was that trouble was in the very 
 air, even while the dignified Burgesses made 
 their finest bows to the Royal Governor. 
 This trouble was not long in making itself 
 known. George Washington, Thomas Jeffer- 
 son, Patrick Henry, and the others were not 
 the men to let a royal governor frighten them, 
 or a king bribe them with sight of a gilded 
 coach, into giving up the rights and liberties 
 of loyal English subjects. 
 
 On the third day of the session, the Bur- 
 gesses declared that they believed "taxation 
 without representation" to be wrong, and that 
 sending American colonists who were accused 
 of treason across to England to be tried in 
 English courts was unjust. They also stated 
 that the colonies might very rightly stand by 
 
58 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 one another when things were going ill, in 
 order to try to set them right again, A paper 
 setting forth their views was ordered sent to 
 each one of the other colonies. 
 
 This bold act caused a great deal of excite- 
 ment. The next day after the Burgesses had 
 expressed their opinions so independently, 
 something quite unexpected happened. Gov- 
 ernor Lord Botetourt summoned them before 
 him. 
 
 His Lordship was not so smiHngly polite, 
 now. He sat frowning, his face very red, look- 
 ing from the Speaker, who stood before him 
 with easy dignity, to the other members as they 
 ranged themselves in a half-circle. 
 
 "Mr. Speaker and Gentlemen of the House 
 of Burgesses," he said at length, clearing his 
 throat harshly. "I have heard of your resolves 
 and augur ill of their effects. You have made 
 it my duty to dissolve you, and you are hereby 
 dissolved, accordingly !" 
 
 It was like a bombshell! Dissolved! That 
 meant that when they left the presence of Lord 
 Botetourt they were, according to the law of 
 those days, no longer a legislature. The Royal 
 Governor had sent them about their business 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 59 
 
 with "a flea in the ear." So much for their bold 
 resolutions of the day before ! 
 
 "Well, Tom," laughed Patrick Henry, 
 **youVe been a legislator for just five days and 
 are now a plain farmer again. How is that 
 for speed?" 
 
 A rousing meeting, held by the members the 
 next day in the old ballroom where, not so long 
 ago, Jefferson had danced the minuet with 
 Rebecca Burwell, rang with the burning words 
 of Patrick Henry, now known to be a great 
 orator, while the brief and weighty opinions of 
 George Washington were listened to with re- 
 spect, and the practical suggestions of young 
 Thomas Jefferson met with the approval of the 
 assembly. Richard Henry Lee, Peyton Ran- 
 dolph, Richard Randolph and others spoke as 
 fearlessly. 
 
 It was agreed that so long as Great Britain 
 taxed goods imported into the colonies, Amer- 
 icans would stop sending to England for them; 
 would wear homespun clothing; drink no tea; 
 and be so saving and industrious that they 
 could raise enough in America to be indepen- 
 dent of the English merchants and manufac- 
 turers. This agreement was written and 
 
60 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 eighty-eight of the dismissed legislators 
 signed it. 
 
 After that, Thomas Jefferson returned to 
 Shadwell. He found, when he got back into 
 Albemarle County, that the people who had 
 sent him were well satisfied with the part he 
 had taken in affairs. When election time came 
 again, they promptly re-elected him to act for 
 them in the next House of Burgesses. 
 
 Meanwhile, he busied himself with plans for 
 a beautiful new home. Dabney Carr and 
 Martha had made a home for themselves not 
 many miles away. Jane, dearest of all the sis- 
 ters that had filled the house at Shadwell, had 
 lingered but a few months after their marriage. 
 Some four years had passed since then. 
 Thomas had set his heart on building a fine 
 house on the summit of the little mountain 
 where he and Dabney had loved to study. 
 
 He had workmen clear away a space, and 
 others were now erecting the first part of what 
 was one day to be one of the handsomest houses 
 in America. He decided to call the place 
 MonticellOy or Little Mountain, an appro- 
 priate as well as a beautiful name. It was 
 fortunate that he began this building when he 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 61 
 
 did, for not long afterward the comfortable old 
 house at Shadwell was burned to the ground. 
 
 At the next meeting of the legislature the 
 young member from Albemarle County made 
 an attempt which shows the kindness of his 
 heart as well as the brave stand he was always 
 ready to take for human freedom and justice. 
 He asked the legislature to make a law which 
 should do away with the old one forbidding a 
 Virginian to free his slaves without sending 
 them outside the colony. He wished to have 
 the slaves given greater protection by the laws 
 than they then enjoyed. But his ideas were 
 too far in advance of the time, and the House 
 of Burgesses angrily refused to pass his bill. 
 
 The session of 1773 brought him a great deal 
 of work. He was appointed one of a group of 
 members, with Patrick Henry, Dabney Carr, 
 and others, that was given the important duty 
 of writing to the same kind of committees in 
 other colonies telling what Virginia was doing, 
 and receiving the news from them of what was 
 being accomplished in every one of them, from 
 New Hampshire to Georgia. If we remember 
 that the telegraph had not then been invented, 
 to say nothing of the telephone, and that travel 
 
62 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 was only by horse or stage, in the interior, we 
 shall realize how necessary this work was, in 
 order to keep the colonies abreast of one an- 
 other and united in their acts on matters of the 
 greatest moment to American freedom. 
 
VII 
 
 A STORMY WEDDING JOURNEY 
 
 January, 1772, was a cold month in Virginia. 
 Lead-colored skies, chilly downpours, and 
 roaring, growling winds, worrying the clouds 
 like giant mastiffs had marked the coming in 
 of the year. Eut, in spite of the angry skies. 
 New Year's Day was a joyful one at "The 
 Forest," a broad plantation not far away from 
 Williamsburg, for there, on that day, Thomas 
 Jefferson was married to Martha Skelton, a 
 beautiful young widow. 
 
 Within a few days the two set out in a two- 
 wheeled chaise to drive more than a hundred 
 miles home to Monticello. 
 
 A happy pair they were; the tall young 
 lawyer, now a successful and honored man, no 
 longer the bashful, freckled youth who treas- 
 ured and then lost the precious watch paper 
 of Rebecca Burwell ; and the beautiful woman, 
 used to every luxury the times could provide, 
 who was snuggled down beside him so warmly; 
 wrapped in her furs. 
 
64 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 The horses made as good time as was pos- 
 sible, for loitering was out of the question. 
 But, as the journey advanced, the cold 
 grew every day more bitter. Snow was on the 
 ground when they started boldly out and, as 
 they followed the roads that were hidden under 
 their thin white cover, Jefferson often looked 
 anxiously at the sky. 
 
 "Oh, do you think it's going to clear?" asked 
 Mrs. Jefferson. "Or is it really going to snow 
 again? And can we reach home this evening?" 
 
 He shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 "It may hold off at any rate until we can 
 get to Monticello. I'm hoping we can reach 
 there before sunset. Are you warm enough?" 
 
 Reaching over, he wrapped her more closely 
 in the robe. 
 
 "Keep this robe about you." 
 
 She gave a gay little laugh and pointed one 
 mittened hand. 
 
 "There! See that, Thomas! Snowflakes! 
 More and more and more of them! Oh, how 
 thick and lovely they are!" 
 
 The young husband was busy with the 
 horses. Greater speed than ever was of the 
 utmost importance to them now. They must 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 65 
 
 get on. The coats of the two animals began 
 to steam under the fall of the melting snow- 
 flakes. Their breath made frosty clouds. 
 
 Darker and darker grew the afternoon, and 
 still the chaise and its gallant horses kept on 
 through the fast deepening snow, alone in 
 a wilderness of white. All traces of the 
 roads had disappeared. Thomas and Martha 
 strained their eyes in vain for the welcome 
 ghmmer of light from farmhouse windows, as 
 slowly and yet more slowly the struggling ani- 
 mals pulled the vehicle through the clinging, 
 heavy mass of the snow. 
 
 "What shall we do now? Can't they go any 
 farther?" Mrs. Jefferson's face was grave but 
 she was not frightened. 
 
 The animals had stopped. Mr. Jefferson 
 jumped out into the snow. 
 
 "Well, Martha, there seems only one thing 
 we can do now. That is to take out the horses, 
 leave the chaise here and ride on. We ought 
 to be able to reach shelter in an hour or so — 
 it's certainly not far — and, perhaps, by that 
 time — ^Avell, we'll see. Here, let me help you." 
 
 The bride clapped her mittens softly to- 
 gether and, pushing back a curl of auburn haii^ 
 
iB6 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 that had strayed from under her bonnet, 
 stood up. 
 
 ''Thomas! It's glorious fun! What would 
 Father say?" 
 
 "Say?" He laughed a low, amused laugh. 
 **He'd scalp me for getting you into such a 
 scrape." 
 
 He took her in his strong arms and swung 
 her to the back of one of the horses. Then he 
 mounted the other. 
 
 The close of the day, with its twilight that 
 was almost hke darkness, brought them within 
 sight of the longed-for lights. In a short time 
 after, they were sitting beside a roaring fire, 
 their heavy wraps drying in the kitchen, and 
 themselves telling their adventures to their 
 kind hosts. 
 
 After the horses were rested and had been 
 fed and rubbed down, Mrs. Jefferson insisted 
 on going on. 
 
 He was as anxious as she to get to Monti- 
 cello, where he expected a hearty welcome, 
 lights and fires. So they started merrily 
 onward again. The horses, full of renewed 
 strength, plodded along toward the long rest 
 and dry shelter of the stable, their heads down. 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 67 
 
 It was fortunate that the way was so well 
 known to Mr. Jefferson, who had traveled it 
 since boyhood, for the danger now lay in their 
 getting lost and wandering about all night to 
 freeze, perhaps, at last. 
 
 When they reached the foot of the mountain 
 and began the toilsome ascent, the slender 
 bride breathed a sigh of relief. 
 
 "Not long, now!" called her husband, cheer- 
 fully. "Keep up your courage." 
 
 He was watching for the lights, rubbing his 
 eyes as he failed to see them. 
 
 "I sent word to the servants," he muttered, 
 "but suppose it's so late they've given us up 
 and gone to bed." 
 
 "Never mind," came the cheery answer. 
 "It's all the funnier. You shall make the fires 
 and the lights and the welcome for me. I'll be 
 quite satisfied." 
 
 It was but the work of a few moments to 
 strike a light, and to kindle the fire which lay 
 ready on the hearth. Two or three sleepy- 
 looking servants came in and began bustling 
 about, and soon the travelers found food and 
 rest. 
 
 Dark and cold, Monticello, a small part of 
 
68 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 the mansion that was one day to crown the 
 beautiful hill, received them. But dark and 
 cold it did not long remain, for youth and 
 courage, happiness and high spirits soon made 
 it the brightest home in Virginia. 
 
VIII 
 
 A FORETASTE OF WAR 
 
 Early May hovered above the hills and val- 
 leys, and the green shadow of her wings lay 
 softly upon the land. Monticello was bright 
 with grasses and the fairylike leafage of 
 springtime. 
 
 Jefferson was walking back and forth upon 
 the lawn, a letter in his hand. Sometimes he 
 held it behind him and marched steadily, his 
 head down and his usually calm forehead 
 wrinkled in thought; then, halting, he would 
 flutter its leaves over to find some particular 
 part and read it again, his lips pressed into an 
 anxious line. Mrs. Jefferson came slowly 
 from the house and linked her arm into his. 
 
 "Why, Thomas, something disturbs you!" 
 she exclaimed. "What is it?" 
 
 He held out the letter. 
 
 "This has just come," he said, "a terrible bit 
 of news from Massachusetts. I am afraid 
 
70 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 peace with England is no longer possible. This 
 means war!" 
 
 "War! Oh, Thomas, not that! What has 
 happened?" 
 
 He clasped the hand on his arm and the two 
 walked on together. 
 
 "The people of Massachusetts have put the 
 King's troops to flight," he explained briefly. 
 "Governor Gage sent soldiers to capture or 
 destroy the store of powder belonging to the 
 people. The news of what he was doing got 
 about, and the farmers — minute-men, they're 
 called — ^gathered like swarming bees from 
 every side. They chased the King's troops 
 thirty miles ! This letter reports that ^ve hun- 
 dred were left dead on Lexington road!" 
 
 Her eyes widened with horror. "Five hun- 
 dred dead! Oh, Thomas, it can't be. You 
 know how early reports always exaggerate! 
 It catr't be! But oh, I glory in the farmers 
 of Massachusetts !" 
 
 "They chased the troops like seasoned vet- 
 erans. Chased^ mind you, Martha, chased the 
 King's own troops and shut them up in Bos- 
 ton!" His eyes sparkled. "'Twill teach 
 Gage and his sort a lesson!" 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 71 
 
 "It's dreadful, Thomas. It makes one's 
 heart fill with dread. If war has come — why, 
 there comes a carriage! Perhaps it brings 
 more news. Hurry! We'll go to meet it." 
 
 A traveling carriage was coming up the 
 slope as rapidly as its four horses, urged by 
 the efforts of a negro driver, could bring it. 
 The Jeffersons walked forward to meet it. 
 When it came to a standstill, a red-faced, 
 elderly man whose white wig had become con- 
 siderably rumpled and whose clothing was cov- 
 ered with travel stains, burst out of the vehicle 
 like a ripe nut coming out of a burr. He came 
 forward hastily, bowing. 
 
 "Mr. Thomas Jefferson?" he asked. "I 
 thought so. My name is Thomas, Gabriel 
 Thomas, sir, plain Gabriel Thomas, merchant 
 of Williamsburg. Finding myself hereabouts, 
 I called, sir, to pay my respects to your lady 
 and yourself " 
 
 Jefferson extended his hand gravely, and 
 Mrs. Jefferson smiled and bowed. 
 
 "I am glad to see you, Mr. Thomas. Will 
 you come in and rest? I see you are travel- 
 worn and your carriage has been badly mired 
 down." 
 
72 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 The red-faced man bowed again. 
 
 "Thank you, sir, I shall be happy to do so," 
 he said formally. "I was hoping to find a 
 blacksmith somewhere about. That rear axle 
 is going to break the next thing and " 
 
 *'If you will just send the carriage around I 
 will have it seen to. One of my servants is an 
 excellent blacksmith. Meanwhile, we shall be 
 glad to have you refresh yourself." 
 
 The two men were soon seated in the com- 
 fortable library. 
 
 "I've just had very distressing news from 
 the North," remarked Jefferson, when Mrs. 
 Jefferson had left them. "A battle has been 
 fought between the King's troops and the 
 farmers about Lexington." 
 
 Gabriel Thomas held up his hand. 
 
 "It's the cause of my journey, sir. It means 
 war and I've property I must look after. But 
 it's only the first flash in the pan, Mr. Jeffer- 
 son," he went on, impressively, "and Virginia 
 — ^mark my words — Virginia will take fire 
 next!" 
 
 "Virginia!" 
 
 "Listen." The visitor leaned forward, his 
 red face earnest. "We have a Governor in 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 73 
 
 Virginia who will arouse the people to open 
 rebellion. What am I saying? Who has 
 aroused the people to rebellion! I tell you, 
 Mr. Jefferson, the fire of Virginia's wrath has 
 already been kindled by Governor Lord Dun- 
 more. They may talk, sir," he went on 
 warmly, "they may talk about Gage's acts and 
 his attempt to disarm the people of Massachu- 
 setts. What less has Dunmore done here — I 
 ask you, sir?" 
 
 Jefferson's face was full of puzzled anxiety. 
 
 "I see, Mr. Thomas, that you have later 
 news than I have. Pray do not wait a 
 moment to " 
 
 "I have, sir," interrupted the other. "Gov- 
 ernor Lord Dunmore has shown himself the 
 enemy of the people of Virginia, sir, and he has 
 tried to disarm them " 
 
 Jefferson waved his hand. 
 
 "I beg of you, tell me the whole of it. I am 
 in the dark and most anxious," he begged. 
 
 His guest settled back into his chair and 
 squared his broad shoulders. 
 
 "Well, sir, I'll try to. But when I think of 
 it all— Gad, sir! My blood boils! But I'll 
 try to go back to the beginning. You remem- 
 
74 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 ber the powder magazine, of course, in the 
 public square in Williamsburg?" 
 
 "Yes," said Jefferson, nodding. 
 
 "Twenty barrels of gunpowder were stored 
 there, the property, as you know, of the colony 
 of Virginia. You know well why it was kept 
 there. Danger from Indian warfare is always 
 a possibility, and then, suppose Dunmore or 
 others should try to raise the negroes! We 
 must have a store of gunpowder ready. Our 
 very lives may some day depend on it." 
 
 He paused to mop his forehead. 
 
 "And Lord Dunmore?" asked Jefferson, 
 leaning forward. 
 
 "Stole it!" exploded the other, clenching his 
 hand. "Stole it, I tell you, sir. Zounds! Sent 
 a file of marines with a wagon in the middle of 
 the night — April 20, it was " 
 
 "But I thought the citizens guarded the 
 powder!" 
 
 "We did, sir! We did! I was one of the 
 guards. But we thought nothing was going to 
 happen. Nothing had, and we'd patrolled 
 around that powder magazine for nights, the 
 same guard of us. So we went home about 
 midnight." 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 75 
 
 Jefferson drew a sharp breath. 
 
 "You went home?" he asked unbelievingly. 
 
 "Leaving the magazine -" 
 
 The other bowed his head. 
 "We did. I'm ashamed to say, sir, we did. 
 And the Governor's marines came about one 
 
 o'clock and " 
 
 "But, could they get in?" 
 "The Governor's key, Mr. Jefferson, of 
 course. Well, sir, they loaded on fifteen bar- 
 rels of the powder— all the wagon would hold 
 — and drove out of Williamsburg down to the 
 James, seven miles, and put it on a British 
 man-of-war. The rest of it, we found out 
 later, they buried somewhere in the powder- 
 house itself!" 
 
 His host got to his feet. 
 "You say Dunmore did thatr he exclaimed. 
 "Why, man, that's the act of a tyrant! It's 
 unbelievable he'd go so far — and yet — " He 
 turned toward the window and looked out 
 again, **he's never seemed over wise. What 
 happened next? Are the people rising?" 
 
 "Rising?" Thomas puffed out his cheeks 
 until they looked like two red apples. "Rising, 
 sir? They've risen— and they've conquered!" 
 
76 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 The exulting merchant threw himself back 
 into his chair with a bounce. 
 
 "What?" Thomas Jefferson's long face lost 
 color. "You don't mean they've risen against 
 the King's governor?" 
 
 "Let me tell you, Mr. Jefferson," replied 
 Gabriel Thomas, nodding his head, "Virginia 
 has shown Lord Dunmore and, perhaps, 
 George the Third what mettle is to be found in 
 the colony." Up went one pudgy finger. 
 "The first thing they did, after rushing about 
 like a hive of bees that's been robbed by a bear, 
 the first thing, I say, was to call together the 
 mayor, aldermen and councilmen. Peyton 
 Randolph, chairman of the Congress, and Mr. 
 Nicholas got them to do it. Well, sir, what do 
 the mayor and the others do but send a letter 
 to His Excellency the Earl of Dunmore ask- 
 ing him very humbly why he took their pow- 
 der." He brought down the fat finger into the 
 palm of his hand. Jefferson waited. 
 
 "Second thing," up went another finger, 
 "was to receive the Governor's answer, which 
 was that he'd heard there was a rising or some 
 such thing in a neighboring colony, and 
 thought it was best to put the powder where 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 77 
 
 it would be safe! Cock-and-bull story, sir. 
 Ha, ha!" 
 
 "He said that?" 
 
 Thomas, still chuckling, nodded. 
 
 "He did, and also that if it were needed in 
 Williamsburg he'd have it back in half an 
 hour! Well, nobody believed him, and every- 
 body knew then, and does now, that he was 
 trying to disarm the colony of Virginia." 
 
 The two sat silent a moment, then Jefferson 
 waved his hand. 
 
 "I fear so," he said. "Go on, Mr. Thomas. 
 What has been done?" 
 
 "Well, Mr. Jefferson," went on his visitor, 
 rubbing his hands, "the people of Virginia 
 began to take what arms they could find and, 
 in a day or two, fourteen companies of horse- 
 men were ready at Fredericksburg to march 
 the seventy miles on Williamsburg and Gov- 
 ernor Lord Dunmore." 
 
 Jefferson threw up his hands. "War! 
 War!" he exclaimed, clasping them together 
 and bringing them down upon the arm of his 
 chair. 
 
 "You may well say so, sir," Thomas nodded 
 until his newly-tied stock seemed about to 
 
78 FAJVIOUS AMERICANS 
 
 choke him. "But they didn't march after all." 
 
 "Not march? Why?" 
 
 "Well, — and this is the best part of the story 
 — they heard — Peyton Randolph sent 'em 
 word — ^that one man had scared His Excel- 
 lency into paying for the powder " 
 
 "One man? You astound me, Mr. Thomas. 
 What man could " 
 
 "Only one man in Virginia could do it, I 
 believe, and that man's name is Patrick 
 Henry!" he exclaimed. "Patrick Henry 
 called together the men of Hanover County 
 and started for Williamsburg at the head of 
 'em. On the way others joined him until he 
 had over a hundred men, some say a hundred 
 and fifty. Well, sir, we folks in WiUiamsburg 
 heard that he was coming with five thousand 
 redhot horsemen at his back. And the Gover- 
 nor heard it, too." The narrator stopped to 
 chuckle until his red face purpled with enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 "Patrick Henry! Go on, sir!" 
 
 "Well, when Henry and his men had got to 
 within sixteen miles of us, they halted. Dun- 
 more was in a fright. He sent his wife and 
 daughters aboard a warship, and had the cap- 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 79 
 
 tain put marines into the palace to protect him. 
 Gad, sir! That captain's a bad one. He 
 threatened to fire on the town itself — the inno- 
 cent to suffer along with the guilty — that sort 
 of thing, sir. But Henry'd halted and every- 
 body waited to see the outcome, all of us hold- 
 ing our breath, as you might say." 
 
 *L4LndDunmore? What did he do then?" 
 
 "Why, called his council together to talk 
 things over, since he'd got 'em into such a mess 
 by himself. You know John Page, sir, mem- 
 ber of his council?" 
 
 "Yes, yes. An old college-mate. What 
 about him, Mr. Thomas?" 
 
 "Advised the Governor to give up the pow- 
 der. They say Dunmore was furious, biit 
 Page told him it was the only thing to do to 
 quiet the people. And he was right, too, sir; 
 he was right." 
 
 "John Page would be," remarked Jefferson 
 quietly, a smile beginning to hover about his 
 lips. "I wish I'd heard him! Well, well! 
 Good old John ! What followed ?" 
 
 "What followed, sir, was that His Excel- 
 lency finally sent a messenger to Patrick 
 Henry with money to pay for the powder. 
 
80 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 I've talked with one of the men who saw Mr. 
 Henry's receipt for the money — three hundred 
 odd pounds it was " 
 
 Jefferson breathed a sigh of rehef . 
 
 *'And things are quiet again?" he inquired 
 anxiously. 
 
 "As quiet as you can expect," replied the 
 visitor, rising as Mrs. Jefferson came softly 
 into the room. His host arose also and pushed 
 forward a chair for her. She stood with her 
 hand on the back of it. 
 
 "No, I cannot sit down now, Thomas," she 
 said. "I came in to give you this letter. A 
 messenger has just left it. There is no bad 
 news, I hope?" Her voice and eyes were full 
 of anxiety. In these stirring times every let- 
 ter was becoming a thing to be feared. 
 
 With a word of apology, Jefferson broke the 
 seal and unwrapped the letter. 
 
 "My dear," he said, after glancing at it, "I 
 find that I shall be called away to attend the 
 Congress. Lord Dunmore has simimoned the 
 House of Burgesses, and Peyton Randolph 
 will have to come from Philadelphia to act as 
 speaker. In that event, as I told you, I was 
 to go to Congress in Randolph's place. You 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 81 
 
 see, Mr. Thomas," he went on, poHtely includ- 
 ing his guest, who had turned away, in the 
 conversation, "I find that I must go to Wil- 
 liamsburg to the House and from there on to 
 the Congress at Philadelphia. I hope I may 
 be of some little help in untying this terrible 
 tangle. It is high time that something was 
 being done. I want my share of the labor." 
 
 His visitor bowed. "A privilege, sir," he 
 agreed gravely, "a privilege for any man. My 
 carriage, I see, is at the door and I must 
 go on." 
 
 "Why, Mr. Thomas," protested Mrs. Jef- 
 ferson, with ready kindness, "you are not 
 going on without at least a night's rest? We 
 will be honored to have you stay. A room is 
 now ready." 
 
 The stout merchant shook his head regret- 
 fully. 
 
 "I thank you, madam, but my time is not my 
 own now," he explained. "Events in Massa- 
 chusetts — ^like those in Virginia" — he smiled 
 at Jefferson — "leave us no time to tarry, now- 
 a-days." 
 
 He was right. Nearer and nearer, out from 
 the unknown future into the daylight of the 
 
82 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 present came toward them the booming can- 
 non, the march of soldiers, and the waving 
 banners of the revolution. Every man in Vir- 
 ginia and in the entire country would be 
 needed. 
 
IX 
 
 THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS 
 
 On a pleasant June day in 1775, Thomas 
 Jefferson took his seat in Congress. 
 
 The room occupied by this wise and honor- 
 able body of men was small for the sixty 
 gentlemen who were to discuss and decide such 
 important matters. Carpenters' Hall, as the 
 building in Philadelphia was called, was the 
 property of the Society of Carpenters, a plain 
 brick structure to which the gentlemen made 
 their way up a narrow alley, probably at the 
 risk of their buckled shoes and silk stockings. 
 
 As Jefferson went along the street, he over- 
 took an elderly gentleman walking somewhat 
 slowly with a younger one beside him. Hear- 
 ing footsteps, the old man turned and thumped 
 his walking-stick upon the walk. 
 
 "Thomas Jefferson! Well, well, sir! How 
 do the times deal with you?" 
 
 Jefferson fell into step, his face full of 
 
 83 
 
84 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 pleased surprise. "Dr. Franklin! This is 
 indeed a happy chance, sir!" 
 
 Benjamin Franklin turned to his younger 
 companion. 
 
 "Mr. Jefferson should know Mr. Thomas 
 Stone, of Maryland," he said smilingly. "You 
 two are members of the younger generation in 
 Congress, about the same in years, I fancy. 
 There are but a few of us grayheads among 
 you — but enough to hold the hotheads in check, 
 I hope!" He laughed heartily. "Here we 
 are ! There's John Jay — another youngster — 
 in the doorway, with Edward Rutledge, a 
 baby of but twenty-six, so they say. Isn't that 
 Mr. Henry just behind us, Mr. Jefferson?" 
 
 "I believe so. Dr. Frankhn. He and Mr. 
 Lee and Mr. John Adams are just turning the 
 corner there." 
 
 The three paused in the doorway, where a 
 general handshaking and bowing took place. 
 Much attention was shown the young member 
 from Virginia who, as Benjamin Franklin 
 whispered to John Dickinson, was "a very mar- 
 vel of learning, sir. They tell me he can plan a 
 building; explain a knotty point of law; tie a 
 cut artery as well as a surgeon; read Latin, 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 85 
 
 Greek, French, Italian, Spanish, German, and 
 what not ; play the fiddle like a concert master, 
 and — well, sir, I know not how much else. A 
 marvel, sir; a most learned young man!" 
 
 But it was not only the reputation of the 
 young Virginian for learning that made him 
 welcome. His manner was pleasant, modest 
 and easy and, like Benjamin Franklin himself, 
 he was never apt to disagree, hut always will- 
 ing to learn from the experience of those with 
 whom he talked. 
 
 That afternoon a dusty messenger came 
 spurring into Philadelphia, his horse, with 
 staring eyehalls and foaming mouth, straining 
 forward toward the little brick building where 
 the Congress met. Thomas Jefferson and 
 Patrick Henry stood in the doorway as he 
 flung himself to the ground and rushed up the 
 steps. 
 
 "A battle! A battle, gentlemen!" he gasped. 
 "I bring a message for the Congress! Make 
 way!" 
 
 Members hurried to crowd about him as he 
 leaned breathlessly against the door frame. 
 
 *'The British regulars were sent reeling 
 down Breed's Hill twice !" he gasped. "Twice, 
 
86 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 sirs I Our men clubbed their guns when their 
 powder gave out! Oh, sirs, a defeat — but the 
 most glorious defeat! Over a thousand red- 
 coats dead or wounded! Thirteen of the 
 King's officers killed, and seventy wounded! 
 And now they're helpless — ^general, army and 
 all, in Boston!" 
 
 Excitement flushed every cheek. A battle! 
 Raw colonial troops had sent the British reel- 
 ing down the hill again and again! Thirteen 
 officers; over a thousand dead! It was 
 almost too much to beheve. Why, the King's 
 troops were trained and seasoned veterans; the 
 Americans untrained. Oh, but it was stun- 
 ning, glorious, amazing news ! 
 
 A burst of enthusiasm drowned the mes- 
 senger's words as he sank into a seat. 
 
 The tidings were indeed a shock to the Con- 
 gress, especially to those like John Dickinson, 
 who could not bear the thought of separation 
 from Great Britain. To others, who saw in 
 the battles of Lexington and Bunker, or 
 Breed's Hill the dawn of the revolution, it 
 came like the sound of the trumpet that calls 
 the war horse to battle. 
 
 The pen of Thomas Jefferson was soon 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 87 
 
 busy, for Congress wished that an explanation 
 of the reasons for taking up arms should be 
 published to the world, so that none should mis- 
 judge the colonies. A committee for this had 
 already been appointed, and to this were added 
 the names of Thomas Jefferson and John 
 Dickinson. 
 
 Jefferson, whose fame as a writer was now 
 widespread, was asked by the others to draw 
 up this paper, so that General Washington 
 might make it public when he arrived at the 
 camp before Boston. He did so, but his 
 language was so strong and bold that some 
 members thought the ideas too far in advance 
 for the more timid among the people who still 
 hoped to make friends with the Mother 
 Country. 
 
 "'Let John Dickinson write it," suggested 
 one. "He's a man of great ability, but he'd 
 rather cut off his hand than WTite anything that 
 would make a war between us and Britain a 
 necessity!" 
 
 "A good idea ! If we take the words of the 
 most backward among us " 
 
 "Why, Congress will not then be in danger 
 of moving too fast for the mass of the people. 
 
88 FAMOUS AJVIERICANS 
 
 Yes; let John Dickinson write the paper." 
 
 So good John Dickinson, who loved Eng- 
 land still with all his heart, in spite of all that 
 had happened, wrote the explanation, setting 
 forth in very careful language the wishes of the 
 colonies. Some words and phrases of Thomas 
 Jefferson's paper were probably included in 
 this, but just how much nobody seems to know. 
 
 At any rate, the explanation was accepted 
 by Congress, read everywhere, and greeted 
 with cheers and even the salute of artillery. 
 
 But another opportunity came to Thomas 
 Jefferson before long. He had brought to the 
 Congress Virginia's reply, which he had writ- 
 ten for its House of Burgesses, to the new 
 plan of Lord North, the man who now headed 
 the King's ministry, for the taxing of the col- 
 onies. This reply so pleased the Congress 
 that Jefferson was asked to write their own 
 answer to Lord North. The young member 
 from Virginia was equal to the task, and his 
 pen produced another of those honest, eloquent 
 and earnest appeals that had already made a 
 name for him. 
 
 The sixty gentlemen of the Congress made 
 this answer their own. It was one of the last 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 89 
 
 acts of this session of Congress, for on the first 
 day of August it adjourned to meet again in 
 the fall. 
 
 The session over, Thomas Jefferson and his 
 friend Benjamin Harrison drove homeward to 
 Virginia, an eight-day journey, while Patrick 
 Henry, Edmund Pendleton and Richard 
 Henry Lee closely followed them. They all 
 made what speed they could, these young Vir- 
 ginia Congressmen, for in the little Church of 
 St. John, in Richmond, another convention was 
 anxiously waiting for them and their news of 
 the acts of Congress. 
 
 Virginia was now wide awake to the dangers 
 of the time. War, she saw, was even now rais- 
 ing its bloody head above the horizon. In 
 preparation for its coming, the little conven- 
 tion was examining samples of saltpetre for 
 the making of gunpowder, and appointing col- 
 onels of the regiments that the colony would 
 send into the field. The services of Patrick 
 Henry to Virginia had not been forgotten. 
 He was made colonel of the very first regiment 
 of all. To Jefferson came the honor of re-elec- 
 tion to Congress. 
 
 Thomas Jefferson drove happily home to 
 
90 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 Monticello, his mind full of the stirring affairs 
 of the day, his heart, of thoughts of the dear 
 ones waiting there for him. In the chaise, 
 packed carefully so that no jolt should injure 
 it, was a wonderful fiddle — one he had for 
 years longed to have and which he had bought 
 at last from John Randolph. Fast trotted the 
 horses along the well-known road, as Thomas 
 Jefferson, fiddler and Congressman, sped 
 toward home. 
 
A BLOW AT VIRGINIA 
 
 The session of Congress in the fall was filled 
 with affairs of the greatest importance. The 
 people of Philadelphia, as, indeed, of every 
 town and hamlet in the colonies, were aflame 
 with excitement and expectation of the coming 
 of — something — they knew not what. 
 
 Gunpowder had to be manufactured; salt was 
 now so scarce as to be a luxury. In Virginia 
 Lord Dunmore was trying to induce the slaves 
 to run away from their masters and join his 
 forces, promising them freedom if they did so; 
 he was even trying to blockade Hampton 
 Roads; worst of all, the army about Boston 
 became smaller and smaller every day and 
 those who were left were neither properly fed 
 nor clothed. 
 
 Thinking over these things, Thomas Jeffer- 
 son turned once again from Philadelphia 
 toward Virginia. The air was cold and brac- 
 
 91 
 
92 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 ing and the ground hard with frost. Wrapped 
 in a heavy great-coat, he sat and watched the 
 drift of cloud in the east, wondering, now and 
 then, whether he was to be caught in another 
 snowstorm like the memorable one that had 
 made his bride's first white winter welcome to 
 Monticello. 
 
 At thought of her, his face grew anxious. 
 She was not well ; had not been well since baby 
 Jane, named for the dearly-loved Jane Jef- 
 ferson who had not lived to see her, had died. 
 Tiny Martha must, of course, have grown since 
 he saw her last in the autumn time. That was 
 a comfort to think of. But his mother's health 
 was also failing, and the long journey home 
 again this time was filled with misgi\dngs and 
 anxious care. 
 
 "What's that ahead there?" he asked sud- 
 denly, narrowing his eyes. The negro drew 
 rein. 
 
 "Hit looks lak a ca'iage, suh," he said. 
 
 "Hm! Some traveler in trouble. Hurry 
 on and we'll see what we can do." 
 
 When they reached the spot they found that 
 the driver of the carriage, another negro, had 
 cut the traces and was holding two handsome 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 93 
 
 black horses by the bridles. Beside the road 
 lay an overturned chaise. A stout gentleman 
 dressed in dark, heavy clothing, and with a red 
 shawl wrapped about his neck, stood looking 
 helplessly at the wreck. 
 
 Jefferson stopped his own carriage and 
 got out. 
 
 ''Can I be of any help, sir?" he asked 
 politely. "I see you have had an accident." 
 
 The stout man struck his hands together. 
 
 "Accident!" he exclaimed angrily, glancing 
 at the driver. "Accident, sir! If I'd had a 
 driver that— but there, sir, there! I forget 
 myself when I think of it! Thank you, I don't 
 know just what can be done — ^unless you care 
 to offer me a seat." 
 
 Jefferson motioned toward his phaeton. "I 
 was about to ask you to drive on with me, sir. 
 Your servant can see to the horses and chaise, 
 of course." 
 
 The stranger turned toward the negro. 
 
 "Jasper, ride on to the inn. Leave the 
 horses there and get somebody to come back 
 to see to the chaise. I shall dilve that far with 
 this gentleman." 
 
 The two travelers got into the carriage, tli? 
 
94 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 driver cracked his whip, and Jefferson and the 
 stout stranger in the woolen shawl were once 
 more on their way along the road. 
 
 "Terrible times, sir, terrible times, these!" 
 said the stout man, who had introduced himself 
 as John Robinson. "The blood of the people 
 of Norfolk cries from the very earth, sir, 
 against the tyranny of our masters!" 
 
 "Of Norfolk!" Thomas Jefferson leaned 
 forward suddenly. "The people of Norfolk! 
 What awful news is this?" 
 
 John Robinson twisted in his seat to look at 
 his companion. 
 
 "Sir!" he cried, solemnly, "I am come from a 
 heap of ruins that, but a few days ago, was the 
 richest and largest city of Virginia." 
 
 ^'Was the richest! What has happened!" 
 Thomas Jefferson's face was pale with anxi- 
 ety. "What new trouble has come upon Vir- 
 ginia?" 
 
 The stout passenger's lips were drawn into a 
 grim line. 
 
 "The bombarding and burning of Norfolk, 
 Mr. Jefferson, on New Year's Day. Nine- 
 tenths of that beautiful city burned to the 
 ground, and five thousand innocent persons 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 95 
 
 left without shelter in the midst of the winter, 
 sir ! I saw it all, and I say to you that the day 
 will come when savage Dunmore, who has done 
 all man can do to ruin the colony, as well as the 
 British who have helped him in his work, will 
 learn that the people of these colonies can 
 strike back!" 
 
 Thomas Jefferson, speechless, put his head 
 down into his hands. Norfolk burned to the 
 ground! Five thousand of his countrymen 
 shelterless in the middle of the winter ! What 
 were George the Third and his ministers think- 
 ing of? He shrank from the thoughts that 
 raced through his brain. He had loved old 
 England and union with her, but how had she 
 treated this land of his birth? He had hoped 
 — ^had continued to hope — that the sane and 
 right-minded among the English people would 
 prevail to bring to reason those bent on the 
 rule of ruin. But now! That King — un- 
 English though he was — ^had succeeded in 
 turning the tools of his government upon Vir- 
 ginia, unprotected and helpless, and had done 
 this thing! 
 
 But little else was said between the two. 
 Details of the destruction of Norfolk were few 
 
96 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 and, when the short story had been told, both 
 men became grimly, bitterly silent. 
 
 When they reached the inn, the stout man 
 got out, the two shook hands sorrowfully, and 
 the phaeton drove onward. 
 
DRAFTING THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE 
 Franklin, Jefferson, Livingston, Adams and Sherman 
 
XI 
 
 THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE 
 
 It was not until May, 1776, that Jefferson 
 went back to Congress. During the spring 
 which he spent at home, affairs in the colonies 
 sped swiftly. The news that General Wash- 
 ington had captured Boston, and that the red- 
 coats had been forced to leave it, added another 
 thrill to the stirring excitement that filled the 
 air. On the seventh of June, 1776, Richard 
 Henry Lee asked Congress to declare the 
 colonies free from Great Britain. 
 
 For two days this was talked over, many of 
 the members thinking that it was too soon to 
 take such a step. Then, in order that every- 
 thing might be done properly and well, further 
 action was put off for twenty days, and a com- 
 mittee of five members was appointed to write 
 a Declaration of Independence. The first man 
 named was Thomas Jefferson. With him were 
 Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, Roger 
 Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston. 
 
 97 
 
98 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 To Thomas Jefferson, youngest of the five, 
 was given the glorious task of putting upon 
 paper the burning words which would declare 
 to the world that the people of the colonies 
 were forever free. 
 
 Beginning with the immortal sentence: 
 "When in the course of human events it be- 
 comes necessary for one people to dissolve the 
 political bonds which have connected them 
 with another," — Jefferson wrote down in 
 plain, vigorous words a detailed recital of 
 America's wrongs, and why it was that we 
 should become "free and independent states." 
 This brief but weighty document has become 
 one of the nation's priceless possessions. 
 
 Thursday, the fourth day of July, 1776, had 
 come. For three days Congress had been 
 debating the Declaration of Independence, 
 changing a word here, leaving out an expres- 
 sion there; while outside the streets of Phila- 
 delphia were thronged with the excited people, 
 waiting to hear their decision. 
 
 **There was tumult in the city 
 In the quaint old Quaker Town, 
 And the streets were rife with people 
 Pacing, restless, up and down — 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 99 
 
 People gathering at corners, 
 Where they whispered each to each. 
 And the sweat stood on their temples 
 With the earnestness of speech. 
 
 • • • • • 
 
 Will they do it ? Dare they do it ? 
 Who is speaking? What's the news? 
 What of Adams? What of Sherman? 
 Oh, God grant they won't refuse !" 
 
 "The bell will ring the tidings," were the 
 words that had been passed from mouth to 
 mouth, and many were the anxious looks cast 
 upward to the old bell whose motto, "Proclaim 
 liberty throughout the land, to all the inhabi- 
 tants thereof," seemed like a holy prophecy. 
 Suddenly, above the cheering, madly-excited 
 crowd, it began to swing, and clear, deep -toned 
 and thrilling came the iron voice to send forth 
 its message over land and sea. "Ding-dong! 
 Ding-dong! Ding-dong!" 
 
 "How they shouted ! What rejoicing! 
 How the old bell shook the air, 
 Till the clang of freedom ruffled 
 The calmly gliding Delaware !" 
 
 Inside the building, John Hancock, the 
 speaker, was signing the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence. 
 
100 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 "There," he remarked, smiling as he laid 
 down the pen, "John Bull may read my name 
 without spectacles!" 
 
 Then, more seriously, John Hancock spoke 
 to those before him of the need of firmness and 
 loyalty to the sacred cause of liberty. 
 
 "We must all hang together, gentlemen," 
 he repeated, earnestly. 
 
 Benjamin Franklin laughed. The strain of 
 the long struggle gone, and the decision made, 
 a sudden feeling of joyousness seemed to seize 
 all these grave men. 
 
 "Yes, gentlemen," said the old statesman, 
 his merry eyes twinkling, "we must all hang 
 together, or else, most assuredly, we shall all 
 hang separately!" 
 
 The great moment had come and gone. A 
 new country, the United States of America, 
 declared independent by the immortal pen of 
 Thomas Jefferson, had flung its defiance to the 
 tyrant across the broad Atlantic. But that 
 independence remained yet to be won. 
 
 The next Monday, at noon, the Declaration 
 was read aloud in Independence Square. 
 Thousands of people stood silent to listen and, 
 with the last words, broke into a rapture of 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 101 
 
 cheers. The coat-of-arms of George the Third 
 was torn from the hall of the State House and 
 set on fire. Every colony had its own public 
 reading of the Declaration as soon as copies 
 could be had, the people greeting it everywhere 
 with delight. 
 
 As for Thomas Jefferson, he felt that his 
 work in the Congress was now finished. Mrs. 
 Jefferson, whose health was failing, needed 
 him; his estate was going to ruin without him; 
 and Virginia needed him. With the coming of 
 September he said good-bye to "the quaint old 
 Quaker Town" and rode back to Monticello. 
 
XII 
 
 FOR OLD VIRGINIA 
 
 "Well, Jefferson, the House of Burgesses is 
 waiting to know your decision," said Mr. 
 Wythe, as he sat down. "Governor Henry 
 was telling me he thought you had made it 
 to-day? Is that so?" 
 
 Jefferson, who had been standing by the 
 window of his chambers in Williamsburg, 
 bowed his head. 
 
 "I have just sent the answer to Congress. 
 It was hard to refuse, Wythe," he went on, a 
 tone of regret in his voice. "To think of being 
 appointed to go to Paris — and with men like 
 Dr. Franklin and Silas Deane — and to repre- 
 sent the country there!" 
 
 He walked thoughtfully up and down the 
 room. Mr. Wythe nodded sympathetically. 
 
 "I know — I know," he murmured. "But 
 Mrs. Jefferson's state of health, I believe — 
 and the cares of your estate " 
 
 "Yes, yes." Mr. Jefferson passed his hand 
 across his eyes. "Her health is such — I cannot 
 
 102 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 103 
 
 leave her and she could not live through the 
 journey with me. No, Mr. Wythe. Much as 
 I should love to hear the music and see the 
 beauties of the Old World, I have had to give 
 up the appointment. The messenger is gallop- 
 ing along the road just there, now!" 
 
 He pointed and the two watched the distant 
 horseman a moment in silence. 
 
 "Well, my friend," said Wythe, at length, 
 ^'Virginia needs all the wisdom and learning of 
 the best of us. Perhaps she needs you more 
 than the country does. There is much to be 
 done right here in Williamsburg. The laws 
 of Virginia are in a confusion that is Httle less 
 than barbarous. They must be made over, and 
 there's no one who can help better to do it than 
 you. I know that." 
 
 Jefferson's face lighted. 
 
 "That's the comfort I'm laying to my soul," 
 he confessed. "I hope I can help here. There 
 are many things I'd like to talk over with you. 
 For instance, the laws of primogeniture and 
 entail, by which a man may leave all of his 
 estate to his eldest son, entirely leaving out his 
 daughters and other sons from a share, and 
 whereby the whole property must be kept to- 
 
104 FAMOUS AMERICAlSrS 
 
 gether — none of it sold. Those laws are in 
 crying need of being wiped off the books, it 
 seems to me." 
 
 "You are right," agreed Wythe, nodding 
 emphatically. "Why not propose to the 
 House of Burgesses that a committee of five 
 be appointed to go over the old Enghsh laws, 
 throw out some like the one about ducking a 
 woman for talking slander, for example, put 
 the rest into just and sensible form, and make 
 new laws of them?" 
 
 The speaker leaned his elbow on the table 
 and watched his friend. Jefferson threw him- 
 self into a chair and crossed his long legs com- 
 fortably. 
 
 "A good idea," he granted. "We'll do it. 
 There must be new laws — different laws, too. 
 Virginia is supposed to hold four hundred 
 thousand people, half slaves, to be sure, and 
 many of them very ignorant. It seems to me 
 some school system should be brought about. 
 Then, too, now we've cast England off, we 
 must form our own courts ; make laws permit- 
 ting foreigners to become voters, and so on. 
 There's work for us all for years to come, 
 here!" 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 105 
 
 Wythe laughed. "My dear Jefferson, 
 you've spoken the solemn truth. There's work 
 to arrange them, and there's fighting to get 
 them passed, in spite of those who are always 
 against anything new. What other ideas have 
 you been brooding on?" 
 
 "Well, for one thing, why shouldn't the cap- 
 ital of Virginia be removed to Richmond?" 
 asked Jefferson. "But the most important 
 matter of all — the one that sits nearest my 
 heart and conscience — is that all men should be 
 allowed to worship God in the way that seems 
 best to them." 
 
 Wythe straightened in his chair. 
 
 "What! You mean, you are against the 
 government's establishing the religion of the 
 state?" 
 
 "I am. Everyone should settle his religion 
 for himself, I believe, and if I live, I mean to 
 draw up an act that I shall call 'An Act for 
 Establishing Religious Freedom.' " 
 
 His visitor arose and took his hand in a firm 
 grasp. 
 
 "Jefferson!" he exclaimed, earnestly. "If 
 you will do that — and I know Patrick Henry 
 — Mason — ^young James Madison, and others 
 
106 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 will help us put it through — I say if you will 
 do that, you will be the greatest man in 
 Virginia !" 
 
 "A great man!" cried Jefferson, putting 
 back his head and laughing heartily. "But, 
 Wythe," he went on, "seriously, if I can be the 
 one who shall father a law to give to the people 
 of Virginia religious freedom, I shall feel I've 
 at least won something worthy to be put on my 
 tombstone." 
 
 At his last words his laughter came back 
 again. 
 
 The two friends stood a moment, each with 
 a hand on the other's shoulder. 
 
 "There's one subject you haven't men- 
 tioned," suggested Wythe. "What do you 
 think we ought to do about the slaves? Free 
 them?" 
 
 JeflPerson nodded. 
 
 "I do — after a certain date. And we ought 
 to forbid the bringing of other slaves into the 
 state." 
 
 "Right!" Wythe moved toward the door. 
 "Well, I must leave you. I'll stop and tell 
 Governor Henry about your decision not to 
 go to Paris, shall I?" 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 107 
 
 "I wish you would. Tell him I've given up 
 everything but Virginia." 
 
 Wythe waved his hat, smihng, and closed 
 the door behind him. 
 
 The ideas the two had talked of, became the 
 new work of Thomas Jefferson. He was made 
 the head of the committee, of which George 
 Wythe was one, to collect the old English laws 
 that had governed the colony, select all that 
 was best in them, and bring it before the legis- 
 latures from time to time to be passed as the 
 laws of the new state. 
 
 It was a labor not only of months but of 
 years of patient study; of many journeys to 
 and from WilUamsburg, Fredericksburg, 
 Richmond, and Monticello to do this. But to 
 the person whose heart is in the serving of his 
 country, as Thomas Jefferson's was, weari- 
 some journeys and hard study are welcome. 
 
 While thus at work, Jefferson was made 
 happy by the birth of a baby boy, but this joy 
 was not to last. The little son, who saw the 
 light in May, 1777, soon left those who had 
 learned so soon to love him. His life summed 
 up but seventeen brief days. 
 
 The disappointment at this loss — for Jef~ 
 
108 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 f erson had no son and heir — only nerved him 
 to renewed labors for the state. 
 
 "I have given up everything for Virginia," 
 he repeated. 
 
XIII 
 
 GOVEKNOR JEFFERSON, AND THE PERILS OF WAR 
 
 Patrick Henry was Virginia's first Ameri- 
 can governor. When his third term was com- 
 pleted, who should be the rival candidates for 
 the high post but John Page and Thomas Jef- 
 ferson ! It was the friendliest of contests and, 
 though John Page had to step aside for his 
 old college-mate, he was, twenty-three years 
 afterward, to take his seat in turn as the chief 
 of the great state they both loved. 
 
 Governor Jefferson found Virginia in dan- 
 ger. Several thousand prisoners of war, Eng- 
 lish and German, were settled in Albemarle 
 County not far from Monticello. This, in 
 itself, was a danger, for no one knew when 
 they might plan to escape to the British. 
 
 New York was in the hands of the enemy, 
 and General Washington's army, doing all it 
 could in the North, was in the greatest need 
 of men, money, guns, and provisions of all 
 kinds. Governor Henry had been sending 
 
 109 
 
110 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 help. Governor Jefferson in turn sent all that 
 it seemed possible to supply, but it left Vir- 
 ginia with almost no money, and guns enough 
 for only about one-fourth of the militia in the 
 state. 
 
 The coast of Virginia was open to the Eng- 
 hsh, whose great war frigates with their tiers 
 of cannon could never be driven off by its tiny 
 navy of four small ships. As for forts to with- 
 stand an attack, there was none of any value 
 in a time of need. 
 
 In the West, too, were threatening foes. 
 The Virginia of that day stretched to the Mis- 
 sissippi River and included the states we now 
 call Virginia, West Virginia and Kentucky, 
 with much of Ohio, Indiana and Illinois. This 
 great region held many an Indian village whose 
 "braves" were always ready to follow the war- 
 path. 
 
 Knowing this, and that the western border 
 was almost without American soldiers to pro- 
 tect it, the British commander sent his aide. 
 Colonel Hamilton, to bribe the Indians to fight 
 against the Virginians. Gold, beads, scarlet 
 cloth, — all these were used by the wily Hamil- 
 ton to hire the tribes to a bloody war. Only 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 111 
 
 too well, as the smoke of many a burning cabin 
 told, did he succeed. 
 
 This, then, was the condition of Virginia 
 when Thomas Jefferson took the reins from the 
 hands of Patrick Henry. This, and worse 
 than this, for just before Governor Henry left 
 the office, a dozen enemy ships had anchored 
 and landed two thousand soldiers on the soil 
 of Virginia. For several days they had raided, 
 burned, and laid waste the country around, 
 w^hile the few men the state had kept to de- 
 fend it were unable, through lack of guns, to 
 protect the people, and fled in despair. When 
 the enemy had done all the mischief they 
 wished, they went on board their ships and 
 sailed grimly away. 
 
 It was three weeks after this that Governor 
 Jefferson took office. 
 
 Amid all these troubles the first cheering 
 news he received was that Colonel George 
 Rogers Clarke, of Albemarle County, whom 
 Governor Henry had sent into the western 
 wilds against the British and Indians, had 
 reached and captured Kaskaskia on the Mis- 
 sissippi, and from there fought successfully 
 against his and his country's enemies. 
 
112 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 It was in April, 1780, not long after the 
 capital of Virginia had been moved from Wil- 
 liamsburg to Richmond, that Governor Jef- 
 ferson sat one day at his desk glancing over a 
 letter that seemed to have been read and re- 
 read a good many times. As he looked it over, 
 a shadow seemed to darken his face, — the 
 shadow of the troubles that its writer, James 
 Madison, summed up. 
 
 The Governor laid the letter on the desk and 
 began to walk up and down with long, hasty 
 strides. 
 
 "Washington!" he murmured. "His army 
 almost falling to pieces! Short of bread and 
 nearly out of any kind of meat ! Neither money 
 nor credit; paper money almost worthless! 
 What are we coming to? What can Virginia 
 do?" 
 
 He paced awhile with his head down, think- 
 ing, his eyes on the floor. 
 
 "Georgia conquered," he went on presently, 
 "the British ravaging and raging in South 
 Carolina; Virginia crippled — poor in men and 
 guns, and with so much that must be done! 
 We must manage to get some help for them 
 all somehow!" 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 113 
 
 He stopped at his desk to look down at the 
 letter. At that moment a loud knock on his 
 door was followed by the entrance of a young 
 man in torn, mud-spattered clothing and with- 
 out a hat, his long hair untied and hanging 
 around his face, his eyes bloodshot with weari- 
 ness and strain. The Governor turned cahnly 
 toward him. 
 
 "News?" he asked quickly, his eyes full of 
 anxiety. 
 
 "Your Excellency," said the man, "I've rid- 
 den post-haste to bring it. A British fleet and 
 army under Cornwalhs are attacking Charles- 
 ton! Virginia must send help at once!" 
 
 "It shall be attended to," said the Governor 
 with quiet determination. 
 
 How Governor Jefferson stepped into the 
 breach is a matter of history. He was really 
 torn between two appeals — that of Washing- 
 ton's army in the North, and Gates's army 
 in the South. Mrs. Jefferson set an example 
 by giving her jewelry, and other brave women 
 did the same. Blacksmiths were set to work 
 forging weapons; and Jefferson sent agents 
 through the state ransacking it for supplies. 
 Meanwhile the state militia was reorganized. 
 
114 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 It looked as though Virginia was soon to be the 
 storm center — as events afterwards proved. 
 
 Then came the tidings of the disastrous de- 
 feat of Gates at the hands of CornwaUis, and 
 the latter's advance north. When advance 
 scouts from the American Army came to Rich- 
 mond they found the httle capitol full of tu- 
 mult. Messengers from the Governor galloped 
 into and out of town bringing and taking news 
 and orders. Noble Virginia was again doing 
 her best to stem the dreadful tide of defeat. 
 The harvest soon to be gathered must be bought 
 with promises to pay for it later; what cattle 
 could be found must be driven south for the 
 soldiers ; the blacksmiths must make more axes ; 
 men must go into the western settlements and 
 get at least a hundred more wagons, for Gen- 
 eral Gates was forming a new army in North 
 Carolina, where Lord CornwaUis and his 
 "hunting leopard," the terrible and pitiless 
 Tarleton, were being held in check by the bold 
 soldier-farmers of that hard-pressed state. 
 
 In the midst of this stirring time there came, 
 like a clap of thunder, the news that a fleet of 
 British vessels, sixty strong, were landing 
 troops at Portsmouth! 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 115 
 
 Governor Jefferson at once sent messengers 
 to General Gates in the South and General 
 Washington in the North. Virginia had so few 
 men left for her own defense, that she could do 
 nothing more. 
 
XIV 
 
 A traitor's raid 
 
 "Ah, good morning, General." Governor 
 Jefferson held out his hand to General Nelson, 
 head of the Virginia state troopers who had 
 just entered his office hurriedly. "I'm sorry 
 to have to call you out so early. But you will 
 grant I have an excuse," he explained, with 
 his unfailing politeness. "Be seated, sir. I've 
 just had word that a fleet of twenty-seven sail 
 was seen yesterday morning below Willough- 
 by's Point." 
 
 The General clenched his hand. 
 
 "Twenty-seven sail! But could they be 
 French, do you think?" 
 
 "I have no way of knowing. The messenger 
 rode furiously to Richmond with the news — 
 didn't even stop to find out what flag they bore ; 
 just jumped on a horse and set out. He's rid- 
 den over a hundred miles to warn us." 
 
 "Did he — but of course he didn't — ^have any 
 way of discovering whither they were bound?" 
 
 116 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 117 
 
 "No, no. I fear it may be General Leslie 
 again. And yet — ^perhaps the French " 
 
 "It may be the expedition General Washing- 
 ton mentioned in his last circular. What was it 
 he said? Something about an expedition fit- 
 ting out at New York and that he thought 
 likely might go southward?" 
 
 The Governor nodded. 
 
 "Yes. It may be that expedition, but the 
 General was quite uncertain about it. We 
 must find out where it is bound. They may 
 content themselves with raiding along the 
 shores of the lower river counties, or they may 
 advance up the York, the James, the Potomac, 
 or the Patapsco." 
 
 "Uncertainty! Uncertainty!" muttered Gen- 
 eral Nelson. "They may be moving on Balti- 
 more, Governor." 
 
 "They may, or on Alexandria or Petersburg 
 or Williamsburg or Richmond, my dear Gen- 
 eral. Now, sir, I wish you to go at once and 
 find out. This paper will give you full author- 
 ity to raise what forces you can, if the fleet is 
 the enemy's. Can you start at once?" 
 
 The General sprang up and strode to the 
 
118 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 door, then, remembering the paper, came back 
 to take it from the desk. 
 
 "I shall be on the road in a quarter of an 
 hoiu'. Governor," he said briefly. 
 
 "Good. Lose no time. Let me have an ex- 
 press from you as soon as you have news." 
 
 As General Nelson hurried away, the Gov- 
 ernor turned to his desk to prepare orders call- 
 ing out the miUtia so that, when he had the 
 full information needed, he could act without 
 delay. 
 
 The news spread through the little capitol 
 with the speed of a cyclone. Twenty-seven 
 vessels sailing up the Chesapeake ! Could it be 
 the French, come to help ? Could it be Leshe, 
 come again to plunder and destroy? Where 
 were they going? What could be done? 
 
 The day wore on feverishly. Would a mes- 
 senger from General Nelson never come? 
 Every clatter of hoofs along the street brought 
 citizens rushing out to inquire what were the 
 tidings. The residence of the Governor was 
 watched eagerly and the capitol as well, so 
 that no messenger could enter or leave with- 
 out b^ng seen and questioned. Richmond was 
 in an agony of suspense. 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 119 
 
 But nothing further was heard until Tues- 
 day morning the second day of January. All 
 of New Year's Day was spent in uncertainty 
 and dread. 
 
 On Tuesday the members of the legislature 
 had not long been in session when a messenger 
 came to them from the Governor announcing 
 that he had received word that the fleet was 
 British and that it had entered the James 
 River. 
 
 Although the Governor had asked their ad- 
 vice, the legislators could suggest little or noth- 
 ing. He had already signed orders calUng out 
 four thousand, seven hundred men, and direct- 
 ing that all public suppUes and such property 
 belonging to the state as could be removed 
 should be taken to Westham, a little town be- 
 yond the rapids above Richmond. 
 
 The lawmakers, seeing that Governor Jef- 
 ferson was doing all that could be done, hastily 
 adjourned, some to hurry away with the orders 
 to the mihtia in different parts of the state ; but 
 most to go to their homes and place their fami- 
 lies out of the threatened danger. 
 
 Wednesday wore on to afternoon, with no 
 further tidings, until three o'clock, when a 
 
120 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 man rode into the city to tell the Governor that 
 the vessels had arrived and were anchored near 
 Jamestown. 
 
 Williamsburg, then, must be their object. 
 So everybody thought until the next morning, 
 when, just before sunrise, another horseman 
 came spurring into town calling out the news 
 as he passed that the enemy had swept onward 
 up the James to a point below the Appo- 
 mattox. 
 
 "They're coming! The redcoats are com- 
 ing!" shouted a man who had run into the 
 street. 
 
 Windows had been raised and the flicker of 
 candles began to light the houses along the 
 street. 
 
 "Maybe they're bound for Petersburg,'* 
 called a voice from a window. 
 
 A sound of footsteps running came down 
 the street from the direction taken by the mes- 
 senger. 
 
 "Who's that?" cried a woman's voice shrilly. 
 
 "It's Burwell," caUed the other. "Word 
 has come that Benedict Arnold commands the 
 redcoats!" 
 
 "Arnold! The traitor! Benedict Arnold! 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 121 
 
 Arnold! Arnold come to murder his own!" 
 were the cries that answered. 
 
 The thought was horrible. Arnold, who had 
 betrayed his country for the gold of the enemy, 
 who had tried to sell it to the British, was now 
 a British commander coming to rob, ruin, and 
 shoot down his countrymen. No wonder the 
 dread and confusion of the time grew, as morn- 
 ing dawned and messenger after messenger 
 was seen spurring this way and that, carrying 
 orders for the militia to gather as fast as they; 
 could, not to wait to come in companies, but 
 each man to take what arms he could find and 
 hurry to join a few others on the way. 
 
 In the afternoon came Captain De Ponthere 
 with news that the British had drawn up their 
 troops at Westover, only twenty-five miles 
 from Richmond. 
 
 Governor Jefferson sent his wife and three 
 small children up the river to a relative's house 
 at Tuckahoe. He had already ordered that the 
 taking of stores to Westham should stop, and 
 that everything the enemy would be likely to 
 seize or destroy should be taken across the 
 river or even thrown into it, so that Arnold, the 
 betrayer, should not be able to get hold of it. 
 
122 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 These things attended to, Governor Jeffer- 
 son mounted liis horse and galloped along the 
 road to Westham. Here he found that a quan- 
 tity of arms and ammunition had been piled on 
 the bank by the excited men who had carried 
 them up the river. These he ordered taken to 
 a safer place. 
 
 Many a sleepless household in small town or 
 lonely plantation house heard the clatter of his 
 horse's hoofs, as the anxious Governor galloped 
 now here now there to command where he was 
 needed most. At one o'clock in the morning he 
 reached Tuckahoe, where Mrs. Jefferson and 
 the children were waiting for him. He felt 
 that they were not safe there so bundled them 
 all across the river and sent them, in charge 
 of a faithful friend, eight miles farther up the 
 James. 
 
 Then, tireless, he galloped back to Westham 
 to take charge again. From there he rushed 
 on toward the little village of Manchester. But 
 before he could reach it the noble and willing 
 horse that had carried him so swiftly all 
 through the long hours sank beneath him, 
 dying upon the road. 
 
 With a heavv heart, Thomas Jefferson took 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 123 
 
 the saddle and bridle, slung them upon his 
 back and hurried on toward the next farm. 
 
 "I must find another horse there," he 
 thought, striding along. "I must get on to 
 Manchester to see to the public property, and 
 I must see Baron Steuben." 
 
 Horses were so srarce that only a young, un- 
 broken colt couJ - be found at the next farm. 
 Jefferson's skill as a horseman was now a bless- 
 ing indeed as he sprang to the animal's back 
 and galloped madly away. 
 
 Little could be done in Manchester, but that 
 little he saw finished. He could view, too, from 
 across the James, the little city of Richmond. 
 The British had entered it. One regiment of 
 their infantry and thirty cavalry were already 
 there, and the smoke of the burning foundry 
 and powder magazine was beginning to float 
 upward from beyond the housetops. 
 
 Only two hundred of the nearby militiamen 
 had gathered to resist the enemy, too few and 
 too poorly armed to do any good. 
 
 Seeing that he could do nothing further at 
 Manchester, the Governor rode to Chetwoods 
 to consult with the great soldier whom Wash- 
 ington had sent to Virginia, Baron Steuben. 
 
124 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 Benedict Arnold had chosen his time and 
 place well. To be sure, Colonel Clarke and his 
 militiamen killed thirty of the raiders, but the 
 redcoats did a great deal of damage. Stores of 
 tobacco, the chief product of this region and 
 its greatest means of income, were burned — 
 and not in pipes either. Worst of all, Arnold 
 and his men threw into the river five tons of 
 gunpowder which the Americans had stored, 
 and ruined three hundred muskets. 
 
 As the American militia gathered in greater 
 and greater numbers, the traitor and his red- 
 coats found it best to make their escape. So 
 they sailed away down the river, plundering 
 and burning wherever the chance offered, and 
 took up their position in the camp that General 
 Leshe had left. 
 
 Governor Jefferson, worn out with eighty- 
 four hours of riding, at last reached Richmond 
 where he summoned an officer of the militia. 
 
 "Sir," he said, wearily, his eyes glowing and 
 bloodshot beneath his down-drawn brows, "Ar- 
 nold has retreated to Leslie's old camp. If you 
 will take a small band of men and bring him 
 into Richmond ahve, I will undertake that five 
 thousand guineas shall be your reward!" 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 125 
 
 But Benedict Arnold knew too well the tem- 
 per of the people of Virginia to let himself 
 be caught in any trap, however cunning. In 
 his own evil time he sailed, unharmed and im- 
 caught, out to sea. 
 
XV 
 
 A HAIR-BREADTH ESCAPE 
 
 On that troubled January second, 1781, 
 when the legislature hastened to adjourn it 
 had taken a very important step. All the coun- 
 try north of the Ohio River which then be- 
 longed to Virginia was given to the United 
 States, on but one condition. It was that all 
 the states should agree to what were called 
 *'The Articles of Confederation," and thus be- 
 come, instead of thirteen small countries, one 
 larger country of thirteen parts. 
 
 In June, Jefferson's term of office expired, 
 but so great was the trouble and confusion that 
 the legislature had failed to attend to its duty 
 of naming a new governor. Meeting now in 
 one small city, only to learn that the enemy 
 was apt to come; adjourning to meet in an- 
 other and another, trying to keep in advance 
 of the redcoats, the members were kept too 
 busy keeping alive and together to do much 
 
 125 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 127 
 
 else. So Virginia was without a governor for 
 a time, and Thomas Jefferson continued to 
 act as head of the government, until the next 
 chief should be appointed. 
 
 On the fourth of June the owner of Monti- 
 cello, wakeful in the early hours of the morn- 
 ing, heard the clatter of hoofs coming furiously 
 toward the house. Dressing hastily, he hur- 
 ried to the door in time to see a neighbor come 
 galloping up the hill. 
 
 "Mr. Jouitte!" called Mr. Jefferson. "What 
 has happened?" 
 
 "The British are only twenty miles away. 
 Governor," the visitor replied. "I was at the 
 tavern in Louisa last night at midnight when 
 two hundred and fifty of them galloped into 
 town. They're under that devil Tarleton, and 
 of course they are on their way to seize the 
 legislature and you." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Jouitte. You are on your 
 way to warn the members of the legislature? 
 Some of the members are here now." 
 
 Jouitte mounted his horse and reined it 
 around. 
 
 "Yes, I'm off. Better hide everything of 
 value," he called back and, touching spurs to 
 
128 FAMOUS AJVIERICANS 
 
 his horse, disappeared down the road on the 
 way to Charlottesville. 
 
 Jefferson walked quietly into the house and 
 rang the bell. 
 
 Breakfast that morning was early, but not 
 too early for the visiting legislators when they 
 heard the reason for it. Still, everybody talked 
 cheerfully and ate heartily, even joking a little 
 about the need of once more outwitting the 
 enemy. After the meal, the guests, whose 
 horses had been brought around, rode swiftly 
 away to make the best of their escape from 
 Charlottesville to the back country while yet 
 there was time. 
 
 While Mrs. Jefferson and her servants were 
 hurrying preparations for flight, her husband 
 busied himself in collecting his most valuable 
 papers. 
 
 ** Caesar, you and Martin gather up the sil- 
 ver and all the other valuables you can lay 
 hands on and hide them under the floor of the 
 portico. Take up a plank," he directed. 
 
 The papers took a long time to look over, 
 but Jefferson made a thorough search among 
 them, took out and tied together the most im- 
 portant, and placed them in the waiting car- 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 129 
 
 riage. As he turned back toward the door he 
 heard a shout. 
 
 "Oh, Governor ! Wait a minute !" 
 
 It was an officer of the state militia, his uni- 
 form covered with dust, his horse reeking with 
 foam and sweat as he strained up the slope. 
 
 "The British cavalry," he called out, "com- 
 ing up the mountain!" 
 
 "What! They've not reached Charlottes- 
 ville yet!" 
 
 "Tarleton's on his way there. He's sent a 
 troop to take you in on the way. Hurry!" 
 
 PulUng his horse about on its haunches, the 
 officer galloped swiftly away. Jefferson hur- 
 ried into the house. The other members of 
 the family were bundled into the carriage and 
 sent briskly down the road toward Colonel 
 Coles's home, fifteen good miles away. 
 
 Taking his telescope under his arm and buck- 
 ling on a short walking sword, Jefferson, after 
 looking about to see that every last paper he 
 needed had been put in safety and that Martin 
 and Caesar were busily storing away the fam- 
 ily valuables, walked out of the house and took 
 a trail through the woods. 
 
 At the spot where this trail wound its way 
 
130 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 to join the road, he found his horse standing 
 with the bridle over a limb. Taking the rein 
 over his arm he stopped a moment to listen. 
 
 "Cavalry ought to make some sound," he 
 thought. "Hum! Nothing to be heard! I 
 suppose they're some distance away yet. I'll 
 just go up to the rock there on the mountain- 
 side and take a look at the valley." 
 
 He kneeled down, rested the glass on the 
 rock and placed his eye to it. A low exclama- 
 tion of astonishment came from his lips as he 
 looked. The little town was swarming with 
 redcoats. 
 
 To hurry down to the patient horse, mount 
 and ride along the road that led toward Colonel 
 Coles's home was the work of but a few min- 
 utes. The troopers of the "hunting leopard" 
 were not to have the joy of capturing Thomas 
 Jefferson. 
 
 Meanwhile, Martin and Caesar were hard at 
 work packing the heavy silverware into the 
 floor of the veranda. Martin was kneehng, a 
 pile of valuables beside him, handing them one 
 at a time down into the narrow opening where 
 Caesar packed them snugly away. 
 
 "Dat's de las'," he announced, sitting back 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 131 
 
 on his heels and stretching his arms high above 
 his head, as Caesar took a small jewel box. A 
 shriek from the doorway behind startled him. 
 
 "Oh, mah Lawd! Heah dey-all is!" 
 
 With a single movement the ready Martin 
 pushed the loosened plank down over Caesar 
 and sprang to his feet. Up to the slope came 
 the British, their captain at their head. 
 
 "Halt!" came the order. The ranks of the 
 troop came to a stand. The officers dis- 
 mounted. Martin waited, perspiring with fear, 
 and trying hard to be brave as he stood rigid 
 on the plank above the crouching Caesar. 
 
 "Where is Mr. Jefferson?" asked the officer. 
 "Tell him Captain McLeod is here and wishes 
 to speak with him." 
 
 Martin swallowed and managed to bow po- 
 litely. 
 
 "Yes, suh, Cap'n. Marse Jefferson he ain' 
 at home, suh. I'se sho sorry, suh! Will you 
 walk right in, suh? Dis way?" 
 
 "Humph! Well, yes. I'll just take a look. 
 Show me over the house." 
 
 Leaving his men posted about the outside, 
 Captain McLeod, whom Colonel Tarleton had 
 sent to seize Thomas Jefferson and take pos- 
 
132 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 session of Monticello, went through the house 
 with Martin. When they came to the library 
 the officer looked down at the books and papers 
 that had been left here and there, showing the 
 work that had just been done. 
 
 "Valuable collection!" he muttered turning 
 about. "Here, give me the key!" 
 
 He closed the door and turned the key in 
 the lock, took it out and handed it to the won- 
 dering negro. 
 
 "Take that key," he said. "And if anybody 
 tries to get into the library or asks for the key, 
 say that I've got it. No harm shall come to 
 Mr. Jefferson's property if I can help it." 
 
 For eighteen hours, while the soldiers were 
 at Monticello, the brave Caesar, cramped and 
 sweltering in the narrow hole, scarcely dared to 
 move. At last, with no harm done save the 
 drinking of some wine in the cellar by the 
 thirsty soldiers, the troop rode away. When 
 the last clank of metal against metal told him 
 they had gone, the black head of the faithful 
 Caesar rose stiffly from his hiding place. Mar- 
 tin, on the watch, hurried to help him. 
 
 "Yo's sho stiff in de laigs, Caesar!" he said. 
 "Jes' set down." 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 133 
 
 "Stiff! Ise turned to wood! But golly! 
 Dey didn't ketch de fambly!" 
 
 At Elk Hill, Jefferson's plantation down the 
 James, the enemy was not so kindly as Cap- 
 tain McLeod had been, for crops were de- 
 stroyed, barns and fences burned, slaves car- 
 ried away to a worse slavery, cattle and sheep 
 taken, horses stolen, and the throats of colts 
 too young for use cut. Ten days of the sol- 
 diery there completely wrecked that fine estate. 
 
 However, it was not to be much longer that 
 Lord Cornwallis was to go his way unchecked. 
 October, 1781, found him at Yorktown, 
 hemmed in between the French fleet, the 
 French army, and the Americans under Wash- 
 ington, where he was forced to surrender his 
 whole army as prisoners of war. 
 
 Virginia was free from the invader,and the 
 closing scenes of the Revolution were at hand. 
 
XVI 
 
 IN PARIS 
 
 A great grief now came upon Thomas Jef- 
 ferson. For months his wife had been ill and 
 he had been at home to watch over her. With 
 the coming of September, 1782, the dimming 
 light of her life went gently out. Her hus- 
 band's only comfort in this time of suffering 
 was little ten-year-old Martha, the eldest of the 
 three daughters left him. 
 
 Sometime after his loss, Congress asked Jef- 
 ferson to join the commissioners in Paris who 
 were trying to make the treaty of peace there. 
 He was only too glad to enter into some work 
 for his country that could help him to bear his 
 sorrow, so he accepted. But before he sailed 
 away for France the news came that the work 
 af the commissioners had been finished. 
 
 Still, the country was not content to allow 
 so useful a man to stay at home. Within three 
 weeks of his going back to Monticello, the leg- 
 islature of Virginia once again elected him to 
 
 134 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 135 
 
 Congress. His friend and former law student 
 James Monroe and three others were also 
 chosen to serve the state. November found him 
 once more busy in Congress where until nearly; 
 summer he took a leading part. 
 
 "I see," said one member of that body to an- 
 other as they met one day in the lobby, "I see 
 that Thomas Jefferson has had the honor of 
 handing to Congress Virginia's deeds to that 
 wonderful northwestern territory. It's a vast 
 region and a noble gift to the country." 
 
 "A wonderful region!" echoed the other. 
 "And the noblest thing about the gift, to my 
 mind, is the ordinance Jefferson has written to 
 govern it. I hope it will pass. He's striking 
 another blow against slavery — and he a rich 
 slave-holder, too!" 
 
 The other shook his head. 
 
 "Slave-holder, yes, but he's lost a great deal 
 by the war. But what is he doing?" 
 
 "Why, his bill declares that there shall be 
 no slavery after the year 1800 in the new states 
 to be made out of this territory. I hope it will 
 pass." 
 
 In spite, however, of the hopes of the friends 
 of this measure, Congress did not pass it. The 
 
136 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 defeat of Jeflf erson's slavery provision for the 
 territories doubtless made possible the terrible 
 Civil War that came upon our country long 
 years after he lay quiet beneath the trees at 
 Monticello. 
 
 Another matter that concerns us all to-day 
 was his idea regarding the money to be coined 
 by the new United States. Up to that time the 
 coins of various foreign countries such as Eng- 
 land, Spain, France and even Arabia were in 
 use in the states, a fact that probably caused 
 some confusion. Congress thought it would be 
 wise to have a table of values of these coins. 
 Gouverneur Morris made such a list and then 
 suggested that a dollar should be used as an 
 American coin which should be worth one thou- 
 sand, four hundred and forty times as much as 
 a small silver unit. This plan seemed very 
 unwieldy to Thomas Jefferson, who thought it 
 over and devised another based on the decimal 
 system, which now makes our money so con- 
 venient and easy to count. 
 
 Jefferson had long wanted to visit Europe, 
 and now, at last, came the time when he was 
 to go. Congress once more appointed him to 
 serve his country abroad. This time it was to 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 137 
 
 help Benjamin Franklin and John Adams, 
 who were trying to make treaties of trade for 
 us with various other countries. 
 
 The finding of a ship and taking passage for 
 a voyage was not an easy thing in those days. 
 Great liners did not ply between the New and 
 Old Worlds, and a person wishing to cross had 
 to gain news of the saihng dates of merchant 
 ships or to catch the httle monthly "packets" 
 as they were called. 
 
 At Boston his party heard of a vessel called 
 the Ceres that was soon to sail for London. In 
 this they succeeded in taking passage. Thirty- 
 two days after leaving Boston they found 
 themselves in Paris. Little Martha was get- 
 ting better of an illness and ready to look with 
 wondering eyes on this new French world. 
 Her father and his secretary, William Short, 
 were already charmed with the beauties of the 
 gay French capital. 
 
 For five years Thomas Jefferson represented 
 America in Europe. With the coming of the 
 first spring his duties were enlarged. Ben- 
 jamin Frankhn went home, John Adams left 
 Paris for England, and he was made our direct 
 representative in France, a position the most 
 
138 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 delightful in the world for a man of his disposi- 
 tion. 
 
 While he was in Europe his book, "Notes on 
 Virginia," which contained a great deal of val- 
 uable information about America, was printed 
 in both English and French. A great many- 
 copies were bought and read in Paris, and peo- 
 ple there thought much of the famous author 
 who represented his country. 
 
 Eut a thing of even greater influence was the 
 printing of his Act for Freedom of Religion. 
 It seemed wonderful and glorious to the great- 
 est minds of the day and a strange and new 
 idea, that every person should be allowed to be- 
 lieve in whatever seemed to his own mind to be 
 right; that nobody ought to have the right to 
 say what religion any other person must be- 
 lieve, and no government the power to compel 
 its people to belong to any one church. 
 
 Many and of different kinds were the labors 
 of the American minister plenipotentiary, as 
 he was called. The sending of news of all im- 
 portant affairs of trade, politics, invention, sci- 
 ence and whatever might be of help to America 
 or its citizens kept him very busy. His keen 
 and eager wish to have for his own country all 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 139 
 
 that was best in the Old World was the cause of 
 the introduction into our southern states of the 
 finest rice in the world. This he secured in 
 Italy. He tried hard to introduce the olive, 
 too, but was not successful, although he sent 
 many plants across the ocean to the South. 
 Whenever he could get a valuable plant, seed, 
 nut or root, he sent it home for trial. 
 
 His work was of great value not only to 
 American farmers but also to France, for he se- 
 cured valuable plants for that country from the 
 New World. In the winter of 1788-1789, 
 when the people of Paris were suffering from 
 the terrible cold and famine, it was through 
 an appeal of Jefferson's that over thirty thou- 
 sand barrels of flour from America were sent 
 them. 
 
 In the midst of his first few weeks in Paris 
 the sad news came to him that baby Lucy, two 
 years old, had died. 
 
 "I cannot be any longer separated from my 
 other little one," he thought sorrowfully. "I 
 will send for her to come to us here." 
 
 So, when all the troublesome arrangements 
 of sailing ships and travel were made, to Paris 
 
140 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 came the little Maria, called Polly by those 
 who loved her. 
 
 With his two httle girls by his side, Jeffer- 
 son was well content to remain in France for 
 so long a time as his country might require his 
 services. 
 
XVII 
 
 HOJ^IE AGAIN 
 
 It was two days before Christmas. For five 
 long years "Marse Jefferson" had been away 
 and now he was coming home — ^home from 
 across the wide ocean. The negroes were wild 
 with excitement. Early in the morning the 
 servants from every part of the Jefferson pos- 
 sessions had come to Monticello, for the news 
 had gone out like wildfire, "Marse Tom's com- 
 in' home to-morrow!" 
 
 Wonderful had been the washing and iron- 
 ing of gay cotton turbans and best dresses, and 
 many and joyful had been the chuckles at the 
 prospect of having home again beloved Marse 
 Tom and their own little ladies. 
 
 For a mile or two along the road from the 
 foot of Monticello the excited watchers strag- 
 gled, straining forward to catch the first 
 glimpse of the returning travelers. 
 
 Suddenly a small black boy capae running 
 
 141 
 
142 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 back as hard as his short legs could bear him 
 up the road. 
 
 "Dey's a-comin'! Marse is a-comin'!" he 
 shrieked, throwing a handspring and coming 
 up all breathless with excitement and joy. 
 
 A shout broke from the crowd near the foot 
 of the hill. 
 
 "Dere dey is! Dere dey is!" 
 
 "Marse Tom! Oh, Marse Tom! You sho 
 is home again!" 
 
 "Lawdy! Lawdy! Heah is Marse Jeffer- 
 son! Marse!" 
 
 Along the road that passed Shadwell, 
 Thomas Jefferson's old home, came a heavy 
 traveling carriage, drawn by four horses. With 
 a cracking of whips and a cheer the postilHons 
 urged the animals forward and at a gallop the 
 carriage rumbled and swayed onward. 
 
 The slaves had begun to run when they saw 
 it. Fat and thin; old and young; men, women 
 and children, they all ran, shouting, along the 
 road. Before the carriage reached the foot of 
 the hill it was surrounded by the laughing, 
 shouting, crying, hurrahing, pushing crowd. 
 
 "Take out de bosses!" yelled a negro. The 
 postillions, dehghted, sprang down and helped. 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 143 
 
 In a rush, in spite of the master's laughing at- 
 tempt to be heard, the horses were taken from 
 the carriage. Eager negroes seized the pole; 
 others, shouting, laid shoulders to the back and, 
 with a rush and a rumble, a chorus of hurrahs 
 and a babel of happy voices shouting welcomes, 
 the carriage rolled up the hill, around the lawn 
 and came to a halt at the front door. Marse 
 Tom was home ! 
 
 He opened the door and tried to step down, 
 only to be seized and carried to the steps, while 
 the happy crowd tried to kiss his hands, or his 
 feet, or even to touch one of his garments. 
 
 "Marse Tom! Welcome home, Marse 
 Tom!" 
 
 The carriage door was opened again and a 
 beautiful young girl stood hesitating on the 
 step. Behind her peeped the rosy face of a 
 little girl. 
 
 Sudden silence fell on the rejoicing throng. 
 Their young ladies were not the children they 
 remembered; but a pride too deep for words 
 glistened in every eye. Their own young ladies 
 were sho' quality — and they had come home! 
 
 Down a lane formed by the admiring ne- 
 groes, while the women held up their babies to 
 
144 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 see, Martha and Maria walked, smiling with 
 delight. It was so good to be home again! 
 
 What a gay Christmas it was for all of them! 
 Christmas gifts for each one and everybody 
 calling out gay greetings to everybody else. 
 And in the mail that arrived, what a wealth 
 of presents and good wishes ! 
 
 But Jefferson was not allowed to enjoy his 
 home in quiet for long. One day James Madi- 
 son came to call upon him with an important 
 message. 
 
 "President Washington asked me to come 
 to see you," explained the visitor, as he took 
 his seat in one of the great armchairs. "He 
 wishes to know just how you feel about this 
 appointment he offers you." 
 
 Jefferson bowed his head. "I see. Well, 
 I can say but little more than I wrote him in 
 reply to his letter asking me to be his Secretary 
 of State. I'd rather return to Paris. The 
 duties of the position there are well known to 
 me and agreeable. If I were to remain in 
 America I should wish to be at home. My es- 
 tate needs my personal care. Then, too, the 
 duties of the Secretary of State are quite dif- 
 ferent " 
 

 JA-crj>~^t^J ,S'a^i^r\^ ' 
 
 LETTER FROM JEFFERSON TO THOMAS PAINE 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 145 
 
 Madison raised his hand. "The President 
 thinks that if they proved too complicated 
 Congress would amend that. He is very anx- 
 ious to have you take the place in his cabinet' 
 where he feels that you would be of the great- 
 est service to him and the country." 
 
 One of Jefferson's large, bony hands went 
 up to his chin. 
 
 "Well," he said, at length. "You may say 
 to the President what I have mentioned. I 
 really feel better qualified to remain in Paris, 
 but I will think the question over very care- 
 fully. Of course my wish is to serve the coun- 
 try in whatever way I best can do so." 
 
 "I'll report to President Washington what 
 your feeling is," Madison promised after a 
 pause, "and he will, I am sure, write you about 
 it again." 
 
 This the President did, explaining that if the 
 new and unknown business should prove diffi- 
 cult. Congress would "apply a remedy." Jef- 
 ferson could not longer refuse, but wrote in 
 reply, "I no longer hesitate to undertake the 
 office to which you are pleased to call me." 
 
 Thus it was settled. Thomas Jefferson was 
 to take the first place in the cabinet of George 
 
146 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 Washington and to be the first Secretary of 
 State of the United States. The books and 
 treasures of art that had been left in Paris were 
 packed and shipped home. France must again 
 be given up for America ; Paris for New York. 
 George Washington and his country needed 
 him. 
 
XVIII 
 
 PRESIDENT JEFFERSON 
 
 The work of Washington's little cabinet of 
 four was very difficult and important. The 
 idea of being but parts of one nation was a 
 new one to the states, and their people were 
 very jealous lest something be done to take 
 away the liberty they had so long fought for. 
 Systems of doing things had to be invented, 
 and the country raised in the eyes of the world 
 from a little partnership of rebellious colonies 
 to a steady and responsible government, whose 
 people held together, made and obeyed their 
 own laws, and paid the debts the war had 
 brought upon them. 
 
 It was natural that two sorts of opinions 
 should be held. One was that the states should 
 be more or less independent of the nation, 
 themselves handle most of their own affairs, 
 and pay their own war debts. The other was 
 that the states should give up much of their 
 
 14T 
 
148 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 freedom to a government by the nation, which 
 should pay all war debts and manage most im- 
 portant affairs. The people who held the for- 
 mer opinions were very democratic, or repub- 
 lican, in their ideas; believed in the rights of 
 the common people; wished for a simple and 
 inexpensive national government, and did not 
 care for so much style and show as the others 
 thought fitting. The second party believed 
 that a supreme national government should be 
 formed, and also that a certain amount of for- 
 mal ceremony, with titles like Your Excel- 
 lency, Your Honor, Esquire, and more or less 
 imitation of English court manners should be 
 the rule. The one stood for the mass of the 
 people ; the other for a privileged and powerful 
 few. 
 
 It did not take long to find out who was the 
 leader of those who upheld the rights of the 
 plain people. Thomas Jefferson was soon 
 known as the man who stood always for what 
 were called "the rights of man." Alexander 
 Hamilton, the gifted young Secretary of the 
 Treasury, led the other side. Jefferson's fol- 
 lowers came to be known as democrats, and he 
 is still spoken of as the founder of the Demo- 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 149 
 
 cratic Party; although the first political sig- 
 nificance of this title has passed away. 
 
 This first term of Washington and his cabi- 
 net was anything but easy. Important ques- 
 tions were always coming up to cause trouble. 
 Such, for instance, was the matter of the na- 
 tion's taking over the debts of the states ; of the 
 choice of a place for the national capital, and, 
 when war between England and France raged 
 fiercely, of what action the United States 
 ought to take. Naturally, many of the people 
 were for France and against England, while 
 others felt that it would be better to stand by 
 our old mother. While still others said that 
 we should be neutral. 
 
 So it went. Every decision was full of dif- 
 ficulties and dangers. The wisdom of all the 
 great statesmen of the time was needed to steer 
 the new ship of state among the rocks and 
 shoals on every hand. 
 
 The nation did assume the state debts. The 
 place for the capital was chosen and later 
 named Washington. The United States kept 
 itself free from taking part with either France 
 or England. 
 
 Thomas Jefferson's duties did not end with 
 
150 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 foreign affairs. He was called upon to act as 
 Postmaster- General ; to superintend the lay- 
 ing out of the new District of Columbia and its 
 buildings; to head the new Patent Office, and 
 various other new and important things. 
 While he was head of the Patent Office, Eli 
 Whitney sent in his model of the cotton-gin. 
 
 Tired out, at length, of being always away 
 from the home he cared for so dearly, and of 
 the labors that seemed only to bring never- 
 ending strife, Jefferson persuaded the Presi- 
 dent to accept his resignation. 
 
 Monticello again welcomed him. Here he 
 watched his crops ; sent to Scotland for a new 
 thresliing machine; put into use the plow he 
 had invented, which had won a gold medal 
 from France ; and was once more happy to be 
 at home. But the rest was only temporary. 
 Public life was to claim him again before long. 
 
 In November, 1796, he was elected Vice- 
 President. John Adams, the federalist, was 
 chosen to take the chair of the great chief, 
 Washington. Until the spring of 1801, after 
 the close of the century that had held the Dec- 
 laration of Independence and the war that won 
 American freedom, Thomas Jefferson held the 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 151 
 
 second place in the government of the country. 
 
 May, 1800, found him and Aaron Burr can- 
 didates against Adams and Pinckney for the 
 presidency. As the months went by, the new 
 federal center, Washington, a little village in 
 the wilderness to which the capital of the na- 
 tion was removed in June, was all agog with 
 the excitement of the coming election. But the 
 election, when it did come, only served to bring 
 further excitement, for it resulted in a tie vote 
 between Jefferson and Burr. This then left 
 it to the House of Representatives to decide 
 by vote which of these two should be the Presi- 
 dent and which the Vice-President. 
 
 It was not until the thirty-sixth ballot, after 
 seven days of strife and struggle among the 
 representatives, that Thomas Jefferson was 
 elected third President of the United States. 
 While he held this office, John Page became 
 governor of Virginia. 
 
XIX 
 
 A PIRATE STORY 
 
 Let US go back to Thanksgiving Day, 1793, 
 seven years and a half before Thomas Jeffer- 
 son came to be president. Morning services 
 were being held in the small church of the lit- 
 tle New England town of Newburyport. 
 
 Dressed in their sober best, with here and 
 there a gay-colored bonnet or a bright feather 
 or ribbon among the women, the congregation 
 sat listening to the words of the preacher. 
 
 "I have a letter which it seems fitting that I 
 should read to-day," he was saying, as he lifted 
 a folded paper from the desk. "I have been 
 speaking of the many things for which we 
 should give thanks. Among them is the oppor- 
 tunity given us of sending to help the writer 
 of this letter and other poor souls like him, who 
 have been captured by the cruel pirates of the 
 Mediterranean and sold into a slavery worse 
 than death. Listen to this sad message from 
 one of our own townsmen." 
 
 162 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 153 
 
 Pausing a moment, he looked gravely about 
 into the raised and earnest faces of his hearers 
 and then read slowly: 
 
 " 'I was captured on the eighteenth of October by 
 an Algerine corsair and stripped of everything. On 
 arriving at Algiers, I was conducted to the Dey's 
 house; and in the morning was sent to the slaves' 
 bagnio, and there received an iron shackle round my 
 leg and a chain of twenty pounds, and three loaves of 
 coarse bread for twenty-four hours, and some water, 
 and was immediately put to hard labor. My situa- 
 tion is so deplorable that to mention but a small part 
 of it would require much longer time than I am 
 allowed!'" 
 
 The reader looked up. A tremor passed 
 through the congregation. This was not a new 
 thing to them. Appeals had been made before 
 for money to send to the "King of Cruelties" 
 to buy back to freedom American seamen he 
 had thrown into slavery. Many a time had 
 they gone deep into their scanty savings, only 
 to get news long after the money had been 
 sent that the poor Americans who waited so 
 prayerfully for freedom had died of ill- 
 treatment before it reached the coffers of the 
 pirate king. 
 
154 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 But to-day it was different. It was Thanks- 
 giving Day. Also, the man whose cry of suf- 
 fering had come to them was a citizen of their 
 own httle town. Most of them had known 
 him since his boyhood. So this letter seemed 
 like the cry of a brother from the wilderness. 
 
 Hands began fumbling eagerly with bags 
 and in pockets, and the clink of silver coins 
 caught the ear. Tears were rolling down the 
 cheeks of many as the minister came to the 
 end of the letter. 
 
 "Before taking up the collection, friends," 
 he said, "there is one here whom I am asking 
 to tell you something about the acts of the 
 Barbary pirates, and of the ransom Newbury- 
 port is being asked to send." 
 
 A weather-beaten man who had been sit- 
 ting almost unseen in a corner got slowly up 
 and walked limping to the pulpit, where he 
 turned toward the startled congregation a face 
 lined and seamed with pain. A dark purple 
 scar ran from his forehead down to his bearded 
 chin, and the fires of his sunken eyes told of 
 some past grim struggle and long-endured suf- 
 fering. 
 
 "Friends," he began, his voice harsh and 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 155 
 
 grating like the rush and roar of the wind 
 across the decks of a storm-driven ship, 
 "friends, I brought the letter you've just 
 heard. IVe been more than a year getting here 
 with it. Your townsman may still be alive, or 
 he may have joined those who have paid their 
 last ransom of life itself to the Dey of Algiers, 
 'King of Cruelties,' as we call him. 
 
 "I, myself, was a slave in Morocco. I 
 was aboard the good brig Betsy when she was 
 taken by the pirates. They came aboard us, 
 every man of them carrying a knife in each 
 hand and one in his teeth. We fought as best 
 we could, friends, but we hadn't men enough 
 to stand against 'em. I was laid low by the 
 stroke that left me this" — he pointed one shak- 
 ing finger at the scar — "and, with the others, I 
 was carried off into slavery. 
 
 "It was Spain and its officers that got our 
 freedom for us. What became of the others 
 I don't know, but I took ship for home, only to 
 be captured by the pirates of Algiers off the 
 coast of Portugal. They threw me once more 
 into slaverj^ 
 
 "They took away everything I had except 
 just clothes enough to cover me, and gave me 
 
156 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 only two small cakes of bread a day. Hard 
 labor I had to do on this. How I did it, nearly 
 starved as I was, I can't tell you, for I don't 
 know. At last I managed to send a letter, 
 much like the one I brought to you, to our 
 American minister in France, Thomas Jeffer- 
 son. 
 
 "I know now that he worked hard to get the 
 money to ransom me and others. At last he 
 secretly sent a Christian monk, who bargained 
 for me with the Dey of Algiers and succeeded 
 in buying my freedom. But your townsman 
 and many others were left groaning in their 
 chains, half-starving and wearing out what is 
 left of their lives, until their friends can send 
 the money to ransom them. 
 
 "Sickness and misfortune kept me from get- 
 ting to you. Twice I have sent you copies of 
 this letter, which, I am told, never reached 
 you. The letter I had promised to bring 
 myself and make a plea for the money needed 
 to free a man of your own town from suffering, 
 slavery and death. 
 
 "Here is a table of the ransoms the pirates 
 require." The speaker drew from his breast 
 pocket a yellowed paper and read: 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 157 
 
 "For a captain $6,000 
 
 For a mate 4,000 
 
 For a passenger 4,000 
 
 For a seaman 1,400" 
 
 Without speaking further, the gaunt stran- 
 ger folded and returned the paper carefully 
 to his breast. Then, with a brief bending of 
 his neck he walked slowly to his corner and sat 
 down. The sound of muffled sobs was heard 
 throughout the little church. 
 
 Scenes like this were not uncommon in other 
 towns and cities of New England. The cor- 
 sairs, or pirate ships of Tripoli, Tunis, Mo- 
 rocco and Algiers, were the wolves of the sea, 
 boldly attacking any vessel they thought weak 
 enough to capture. 
 
 While plenipotentiary in France, Thomas 
 Jefferson had given much anxious effort to the 
 cases of the suffering prisoners, hundreds of 
 whom were held in these African countries 
 waiting until money should be sent to ransom 
 them or, lacking this, kept in a slavery that 
 ended only with death. 
 
 Other Christian nations paid the rulers of 
 the Barbary States a tribute, or tax, in order 
 
158 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 that the vessels carrying their flags might be 
 free from attack by the pirates. Our own 
 country, while disliking this way of securing 
 peace, was also too poor, just after the revolu- 
 tion, to afford the large sums of money de- 
 manded. What little it could afford was of- 
 fered, only to meet with the disdain of the 
 greedy pirate princes. 
 
 Jefferson, while he was in France, tried to 
 persuade the different nations of the Old 
 World to join with the United States in keep- 
 ing a small fleet of ships ready to wage war 
 on the corsairs and so protect travelers on the 
 sea, but the plan, a bold and sensible one, fell 
 through. The Congress of that day was not 
 strong enough to carry it out. When he was 
 Secretary of State for Washington, he again 
 brought up the matter of forcing the pirates to 
 respect our flag, but nothing could be done. 
 
 Finally, in 1796, a peace was brought about 
 at the cost of a million dollars. But to main- 
 tain this peace and prevent the breaking of 
 it by the pirates, another million had to be paid 
 within the next four years. One hundred and 
 twenty-two captives, ten of them having been 
 slaves to the pirates for eleven years, came 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 159 
 
 home to America, half-starved, their health 
 wrecked, but pitifully happy to gain the free- 
 dom for which they had long given up hoping. 
 
 The worst part of these transactions with the 
 pirates was that they insisted on having the 
 tribute sent them in articles that would help 
 them to go on in their cruel business. A frigate 
 which cost nearly a hundred thousand dollars 
 was built and paid for by the United States, 
 fitted wdth thirty-six cannon, loaded with an- 
 other hundred thousand dollars' worth of pow- 
 der, lead and ship supplies, and sent to the Dey 
 as one item of our country's tax. All this 
 was before Thomas Jefferson became presi- 
 dent. 
 
 When that time came, Jefferson, who had 
 tried so long and untiringly to stop this state 
 of things, sent four of our six war vessels to 
 the Mediterranean to whip the pirates into a 
 proper and decent frame of mind. America 
 was the first nation to show the cruel pirates 
 that peace with them was not to be bought with 
 money. 
 
 This act of Jefferson's, which opened the 
 way to others, led, finally, to the deathblow 
 of piracy in the Mediterranean. 
 
XX 
 
 OPENING UP THE GREAT WEST 
 
 The great wilderness that stretched, a mys- 
 tery of far-sweeping plain and mountain, river 
 and mighty woodland, to the west of the broad 
 Mississippi, always held a fascination for the 
 mind of Thomas Jefferson. Great unknown 
 forests that roared in the wind sweeping inland 
 from the rolling Pacific ; wide spaces of prairie, 
 dotted with grazing herds of bison and covered 
 with the soft waves of the wild grasses; great 
 rivers that thundered through deep chasms, the 
 like of which the white man had never yet seen ; 
 all these were there waiting for the explorer 
 and the pioneer. 
 
 President Jefferson made up his mind that 
 an expedition should be sent to discover the 
 wonders that he believed must exist in that 
 broad land; to study its tribes of Indians, its 
 animals, its plants, its rocks, and to journey 
 onward even to the shores of the great Pacific. 
 
 The men he chose to command this bold 
 
 160 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 161 
 
 party were Meriweather Lewis, his own secre- 
 tary, the son of an old friend of Albemarle 
 County, and William Clarke, brother of that 
 famous George Rogers Clarke, whose brave 
 work during the Revolution had saved the 
 western frontier from the English and Indians. 
 
 A year was spent by these men in study and 
 preparation before they went out into the wil- 
 derness to be gone over two years. What they 
 saw and did makes a book in itself: wild tribes; 
 high, rocky peaks; dangerous mountain passes; 
 great rivers; the mighty, surging Pacific itself. 
 From the wilds they brought back specimens 
 to enrich the collections of the East. 
 
 But more than the exploration of this golden 
 land was accomplished while Thomas Jefferson 
 sat in the president's chair. Through his ef- 
 forts and those of his agents the whole terri- 
 tory itself, from the Mississippi to the giant 
 Rockies, was bought from France. France 
 had claimed Louisiana because of the explora- 
 tion of the Mississippi; had ceded it to Spain; 
 and, in turn, was to receive it again. Our pres- 
 ent state of Louisiana is but a very small part 
 of this great region. 
 
 A great deal of trouble was caused at times 
 
162 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 by the threats of the Spaniards at New Or- 
 leans to stop our use of the Mississippi River 
 for carrying to the outside world the produce 
 of the great valley region along its eastern 
 bank. This produce could be marketed at New 
 Orleans, or sent from there across the ocean 
 to other markets. 
 
 In the days when there were no railroads 
 stretching their shining length across every 
 country and ending in a network in every city, 
 the use of the river as a highway was necessary 
 to the welfare and growth of the settlements 
 west of the Alleghanies. 
 
 When the news came to the United States 
 that Spain had given up this region to France, 
 the president felt that the time had come when 
 at least the Island of New Orleans and the 
 mouth of the Mississippi should belong to us. 
 We could no longer endure the danger of hav- 
 ing it closed to our people and their trade. At 
 once we began trying to buy New Orleans. 
 
 Napoleon Bonaparte, the great general, was 
 then at the head of the French government, and 
 to hun we had to apply. But it seemed that he 
 had other plans. He had decided that France 
 should send out colonists and soldiers to Loui- 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 163 
 
 siana which, he believed, would grow into a 
 great and valuable colony of France. He had 
 even chosen the ships to carry the soldiers and 
 colonists across ; had appointed the officers and 
 the first governor of the colony-to-be, and had 
 made up his mind to send three thousand 
 troops. 
 
 Livingston, our representative in Paris, did 
 his best to have these plans given up, but it 
 seemed to him at last that he could do no more. 
 He finally gave up hope and wrote home ad- 
 vising our government to "fortify Natchez and 
 strengthen all the upper posts," on the Mis- 
 sissippi, for he believed that the time would 
 surely come when we should have war on our 
 hands over New Orleans. 
 
 The people of Kentucky, to whom the Mis- 
 sissippi River was the great highway to the 
 world beyond, were aflame with excitement. 
 The news of the French expedition preparing 
 to sail for Louisiana only added fuel to the 
 fire of their anger. Threats of rebellion and 
 warfare were heard everywhere along the fron- 
 tier. Even the largest cities of the East were 
 full of unrest and turmoil. 
 
 President Jefferson was working in his own 
 
164. FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 way. In fact, he had been busy for a long 
 time, but the public did not know how hard 
 he and his agents had been at work to buy at 
 least the mouth of the river. Things seemed 
 to be reaching a crisis. Then he despatched 
 a letter to his friend James Monroe. 
 
 "I shall to-morrow nominate you to the Sen- 
 ate for an extraordinary mission to France," 
 he wrote him. "Work night and day to ar- 
 range your affairs." 
 
 Meanwhile, another threatening war cloud 
 had begun to darken the sky between France 
 and England. The ambition of Napoleon was 
 turned toward invasion of the "tight little isle." 
 England, on the other hand, was determined to 
 crush him if he tried it. Neither country 
 wished the other to have the rich territory of 
 Louisiana. England preferred that we should 
 have it and, if France tried to keep it, the Eng- 
 lish navy could cut it off from all trade across 
 the Atlantic. 
 
 Eut what France needed most was money. 
 War is expensive, and the French had been 
 making war and paying soldiers for a long 
 time. Louisiana would not be sending money 
 over to France until many years of expense 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 165 
 
 and the slow growth of colonies could produce 
 it to send. If sold now, it would at once bring 
 the funds to fight England. Then, too, there 
 was always the danger of England's seizing 
 the colony. 
 
 Thinking of these and many other things, 
 Napoleon Bonaparte all at once changed his 
 mind and decided to turn Louisiana, not into 
 a French colony, but into hard gold that might 
 be spent now. 
 
 "The English have taken from France Can- 
 ada, Cape Breton, Newfoundland, Nova Sco- 
 tia, and the richest portions of Asia," he said. 
 "They shall not have the Mississippi, which 
 they covet. I have not a moment to lose in 
 putting it out of their reach!" 
 
 James Monroe had scarcely arrived in Paris 
 before the bargaining began. As each side was 
 so eager, it did not take very long to make 
 terms. To the great surprise of Livingston, 
 not only New Orleans was for sale, but the 
 whole of the vast Mississippi Valley to the west 
 of the great stream and as far as the towering 
 mountains that shut it from Spanish country 
 in the far West. 
 
 This whole region was bought for fifteen.mil- 
 
166 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 lions of dollars. It was the purchase of a ter- 
 ritory that was to add thirteen stars to our flag 
 and make the United States one of the great 
 countries of the world. 
 
XXI 
 
 A THREAT OF WAR 
 
 For eight years Jefferson filled the presi- 
 dential chair. When the end of his first term 
 came he was reelected by a sweeping majority. 
 
 He was sitting, one day, in his office, a pile 
 of papers strewn before him on the desk, his 
 long chin in his hand. 
 
 "If we can keep the peace a few years 
 longer," he murmured, anxiously, "only a few 
 years, we can pay our national debt, and our 
 income will then be large enough for any war 
 that comes upon us." 
 
 He frowned and looked towards the window. 
 
 "This war in Europe will ruin our trade. 
 Between the Orders in Council of the English 
 and the decrees of Bonaparte, each side bound 
 to seize all ships bound for the other's ports, 
 our own vessels have little chance, now-a-days, 
 of going anywhere without being taken and 
 plundered. We'll be drawn into this war, un- 
 
 167 
 
168 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 less something can be done to hold it off for 
 awhile." 
 
 He drummed with his knuckles on the arm 
 of his chair. 
 
 **But these English claims are too much to 
 be borne," he went on frowningly. "The idea 
 that a man born an Englishman cannot be- 
 come a naturalized American citizen is absurd! 
 Their treatment of American ships — seizing 
 sailors from our vessels to place in their own 
 navy, on the pretense that they are taking back 
 English deserters, is getting beyond all pa- 
 tience. It's a situation that " 
 
 A secretary entered at this moment, break- 
 ing in upon the President's thoughts. 
 
 "Well?" asked the latter, leaning back in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 "Sir," said the young man, whose face was 
 flushed with excitement, "the news has just 
 come that the English ship Leopard has fired 
 several broadsides on the Chesapeake ^' 
 
 The President rose quickly to his feet. 
 
 "Broadsides, you say?" he asked quickly. 
 "What did the Chesapeake do?" 
 
 "Hauled down her flag, sir. She wasn't ex- 
 pecting to fight; wasn't ready " 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSOlSr 169 
 
 "'Did the Englishmen board her?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. They went aboard and took four 
 men, claiming they'd deserted from the Eng- 
 lish navy. They say, sir, that three of them 
 are born Americans " 
 
 President Jefferson took two or three strides 
 up and down the office. 
 
 "Were any killed?" he asked, suddenly fac- 
 ing about. 
 
 The young man nodded soberly. 
 
 "Three, sir, and eighteen wounded. The ac- 
 count is being sent you at once, I heard it and 
 hurried in to let you know." 
 
 "Thank you. Bring in the paper as soon as 
 it comes." 
 
 The secretary hurried from the room, leav- 
 ing the President pacing the floor, his usually 
 calm, cheerful face full of sudden care. 
 
 "I have only to open my hand now," he 
 muttered, "to let havoc loose!" 
 
 It was true. The whole country was ready 
 to plunge into war with Great Britain. "Free 
 trade and sailors' rights!" was the rallying cry 
 of the people. The utmost excitement ruled 
 the day and the wildest threats were uttered 
 against England. 
 
170 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 But Thomas Jefferson knew that America 
 was not prepared for a second war with Eng- 
 land and that to enter upon one at this time 
 would lead only to defeat. He was not, how- 
 ever, going to submit any longer to such out- 
 rages without showing what America thought 
 of these high-handed acts. 
 
 Without delay he sent the frigate Revenge 
 to England to demand an explanation and the 
 return of the men who had been taken from her 
 decks, as well as the punishment of Admiral 
 Berkeley, the commanding officer of the Brit- 
 ish squadron. He issued a proclamation order- 
 ing all armed British ships to leave the waters 
 of the United States, and declaring that no 
 such ships would be allowed to come within 
 those waters unless carrying dispatches, or in 
 distress. 
 
 "Every one of our own vessels must be pre- 
 pared for instant service. Gunboats must be 
 sent to all points that might be attacked. Our 
 fleet must be called home from the Mediter- 
 ranean. At least two thousand soldiers must 
 be placed along the coast," were his terse di- 
 rections. 
 
 Besides these things, he ordered the govern- 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 171 
 
 ors of the states to have one hundred thousand 
 militia ready to be called to the colors. 
 
 "You," he said to Decatur, the commander 
 of our vessels at Norfolk, "you will attack the 
 British fleet if it should attempt to pass into 
 the inner harbor." 
 
 His secretary was busy sending letters to 
 various members of Congress, bearing the 
 warning to be ready to come to Washington 
 at a moment's notice. When the frigate sent 
 to England should come back, the country 
 would know whether war was to come at once 
 or not. It hardly seemed possible that it could 
 be postponed much longer, with the temper of 
 the people at such a fever heat. 
 
 Thomas Jefferson naturally felt the anger 
 that filled the minds of all patriotic Ameri- 
 cans, but with him lay the awful responsibihty 
 of plunging his country into a war for which 
 he knew it was not ready, or, perhaps, of sav- 
 ing it from one ; at least of putting one off until 
 the chances of winning should be better. 
 
 When the frigate came back with a message 
 of regret from England, though very little 
 else was done by its government to make up 
 
172 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 for the outrage to the Chesapeake, Jefferson 
 resolved to try one thing more to see whether 
 or not the difference between the two countries 
 might be settled without actual war. 
 
 "If we keep our ships at home," he thought, 
 ''neither England nor France can seize them. 
 That is clear. But, besides this, both those 
 countries will be suffering for the goods they 
 get from America. If we lay an embargo in 
 this way on our foreign trade, they'll be glad 
 to come to terms and respect our commerce 
 for the sake of having the embargo lifted 
 again." 
 
 The idea was not a new one, but it was to be 
 applied in a more sweeping manner than ever 
 before. 
 
 "It will," wrote Jefferson, "introduce be- 
 tween nations another umpire than arms." 
 
 December, 1807, brought about the passage 
 of this embargo. The Senate took but four 
 hours to agree with Jefferson. John Quincy 
 Adams, leaving the federalists to vote with the 
 republican-democrats, stated the views of most 
 Americans. 
 
 "The President has recommended this meas- 
 ure on his high responsibility," he said with 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 173 
 
 stern earnestness. "I would not consider, I 
 would not deliberate ; I would act/^ 
 
 And act they did. Both Senate and House 
 passed the embargo that said to the bullying 
 nations across the Atlantic: "We'll show you 
 that the need of American goods will bring 
 you to reason !" 
 
 At first everybody was delighted with the 
 new and bloodless way of making war. But, 
 after awhile, it began to be seen that the man- 
 ufacturing and ship-building sections of the 
 country were being injured quite as much as 
 the English or the French, and perhaps even 
 more. IS'ew England was anxious to be rid of 
 the restraint, and there were again stormy 
 meetings in the little states along the north- 
 east coast, and even violent talk that pointed 
 toward rebellion. Still, the main body of the 
 people held to the embargo, anxious to try it 
 out to its full extent. 
 
 At length, Jefferson, whose second term of 
 office was drawing to an end, and who felt that 
 he ought not to leave an affair that was causing 
 such a tempest for the next president to han- 
 dle, signed an act that raised the embargo but 
 forbade trade with either Great Britain or 
 
174 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 France. This gave the ships that had been 
 tied up to the wharves for two years a chance to 
 sail once more on deep waters, carrying the 
 goods of America and braving the threats of 
 the unfriendly powers. 
 
 This was one of the last acts of Jefferson's 
 eight years of the presidency. Like Washing- 
 ton, he refused to stand for a third term of 
 office, hoping that his lifelong friend, James 
 Madison, would be chosen to fill his place. 
 
XXII 
 
 A FINAL SERVICE TO HIS STATE 
 
 "Good-bye, grandfather," called a tall boy 
 from the portico at Monticello, waving his 
 hand toward the driveway. A negro was 
 standing holding a handsome horse by the 
 bridle while an old man, surprisingly nimble 
 for one of his age, was swinging himself into 
 the saddle. He sat a moment to button the 
 large pearl buttons of his short gray coat, draw 
 about his neck more closely the folds of a 
 white woolen scarf, and settle his round hat 
 more firmly upon his sandy-white hair. Then 
 he turned the horse about and waved his hand 
 to the boy, who was running down the steps. 
 "Good-bye, grandson," he answered cheerily. 
 "Isn't it pretty early for you to be out? You're 
 ahead of the sun himself!" 
 
 "I know I am, but mother says you always 
 get up as soon as you can see the hands of your 
 clock " 
 
 175 
 
176 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 "Ah ha! Thought you'd try it? Well it's 
 a good habit, one I've tried ever since I was 
 your age. How many guests have we in the 
 house this morning?" 
 
 The boy thought a moment, murmuring over 
 names and counting. 
 
 "Forty-five, I think. No, let's see; forty- 
 seven, sir. Mr. Bacon says he's had to send 
 some horses away, the stalls are all full." 
 
 "Humph ! Well, we'll make room somehow. 
 Tell your mother I'll return this afternoon. 
 Good-bye!" 
 
 The boy watched while his grandfather rode 
 rapidly down the hill. The former president 
 was a little stooped in the saddle, now, but his 
 control of his horse was as complete as when 
 he rode across the river with his brace of wild 
 turkeys to Shadwell nearly seventy years 
 before. 
 
 On the road a neighbor, also on horseback, 
 joined him. 
 
 "Good-morning, sir. You're bound for the 
 University, as usual, I dare say, Mr. Jeffer- 
 son?" he asked pleasantly as the two horses 
 paced along together. "How is the building 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 177 
 
 going? It's a wonderful thing you and Joseph 
 Cabell are doing for Virginia and its youth, 
 sir!" 
 
 Jefferson smiled contentedly. 
 
 "The building is nearly complete," he re- 
 plied. "Or much of it is, and we have good 
 hope of having a fine corps of professors. Yes, 
 we hope and expect much from our state uni- 
 versity in the years to come." 
 
 The other looked pleased. "That's fine !" he 
 approved. "Since my return to Virginia I've 
 been told you have been trying to secure the 
 adoption of a public school system for the 
 whole state. I hope you are succeeding." 
 
 Jefferson shook his head slowly. 
 
 "The plan isn't succeeding to any great 
 extent," he admitted. "Nor is the scheme for a 
 circulating library in each county. The people 
 will see it, though." His clouded face bright- 
 ened. "I'm sure they'll see the need of a com- 
 mon school in every ward of every county in 
 Virginia. Joseph C. Cabell, sir, in the State 
 Senate, is a host in himself in aid of these 
 projects, and the state is giving perhaps as 
 much as we can hope for at this time." 
 
 They rode on for a few minutes in silence. 
 
178 FAMOUS AMERICANS 
 
 Then Jefferson pointed to a spot they were 
 nearing. 
 
 "There are the buildings," he said, his face 
 all alight with pride. "Things are going for- 
 ward very well indeed." 
 
 The other reined in his horse. 
 
 " 'Twill be a handsome university, Mr. Jef- 
 ferson. You designed the buildings?" 
 
 "Oh, yes; yes. It appeared to me that the 
 young men of Virginia ought to have some- 
 thing before them to give an idea of classic 
 architecture. But money, sir, money — " He 
 sighed and shook his head. 
 
 The other nodded. 
 
 "I see. Well, what you have had, has been 
 spent nobly, Mr. Jefferson. My road lies here. 
 Good morning, sir." 
 
 Raising his hat, the gentleman turned and 
 rode away. Thomas Jefferson, once more set- 
 tling the round hat on his head, slapped his 
 horse's neck with the end of the rein and can- 
 tered along toward the new buildings. 
 
 Passing around them until he came to a part 
 he wished to inspect, the old gentleman tied his 
 horse and, taking his walking-stick under his 
 arm, went into an unfinished building. The 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON ITS 
 
 workmen had not yet arrived for the day's 
 labor, and the visitor was uninterrupted in 
 looking over the place, and making mental 
 note of directions he wished to give. 
 
 Presently, a little tired, he walked outside 
 into the pleasant morning air, un jointed his 
 walking-stick, cleverly invented by himself to 
 serve as a stool, took a piece of cloth from his 
 pocket, and stretched it across for a seat, and 
 sat comfortably down to wait for the work- 
 men. 
 
 Jefferson was superintending one of the last 
 acts of his busy life — the erection of what was 
 to be one of his proudest monuments, the Uni- 
 versity of Virginia. 
 
XXIII 
 
 THE END OF A BUSY LIFE 
 
 It was nearing the fiftieth anniversary of the 
 adoption of the Declaration of Independence. 
 Its author lay dying. About his bed stood 
 members of his family, their faces pale, their 
 breath catching, now and again, in sobs hushed 
 quickly. 
 
 The old man raised his hand. His eyes were 
 closed. 
 
 "Warn the committee to be on the alert!" he 
 whispered, dreaming of some time of trial and 
 stress among the many he had faced and fought 
 through. 
 
 Silently the watchers waited. Again his lips 
 moved. 
 
 "This is the Fourth?" he asked, opening his 
 eyes. 
 * "Not yet." 
 
 Silence for a few moments. 
 
 "This is the Fourth?" once again anxiously. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 180 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON 181 
 
 "Ah!" breathed Thomas Jefferson, the old 
 kindly light upon his face. Once more sleep 
 claimed him. 
 
 When the sun of the Fourth of July was a 
 little past mid-heaven, he breathed his last. 
 
 The over-tired body had at last refused to 
 carry on the behests of the busy brain. It 
 was a needed rest. 
 
 By a strange coincidence, Quincy, Massa- 
 chusetts, knew, on that day, the passing of 
 another aged patriot, the second president of 
 the United States, and the man who had 
 spoken boldly for the adoption of the Declara- 
 tion of Independence. John Adams's last 
 words were, "Thomas Jefferson still lives." 
 
 But Thomas Jefferson, whose long and 
 busy life had been devoted to his country and 
 to all that could contribute to the freedom of 
 mankind, had, at that selfsame hour, preceded 
 his old friend and compatriot. At evening on 
 that Fourth of July, the last two who had 
 taken part in the long-ago scene in the old 
 "Quaker Town" had gone. 
 
 To-day, on the summit of the mountain 
 where Dabney Carr and young Tom Jefferson 
 studied and planned together, they rest side 
 
182 FAJVIOUS AMERICANS 
 
 by side. Over the grave of the boy who grew 
 up to be a great as well as a good man stands a 
 stone bearing the words he had chosen for it: 
 
 HERE WAS BURIED 
 
 THOMAS JEFFERSON 
 
 AUTHOR 
 
 OF THE DECLARATION 
 
 OF 
 
 AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE 
 
 THE STATUTE OF VIRGINIA 
 
 FOR RELIGIOUS FREEDOM 
 
 AND 
 
 FATHER OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA 
 
.1^ 
 
AUG 1 2 l»t* 
 
I