"Three Grand & Interesting Objects"
An 1828 Visit to Monticello, the University, and Montpelier

Edited by Frank E. Grizzard, Jr.

One of the most charming writers of nineteenth-century America was Margaret Bayard Smith, whose two-volume novel A Winter in Washington; or, Memoirs of the Seymour Family (1824) preserves many wonderful anecdotes of Washington society during the first part of the nineteenth century. Smith wrote essays and stories, often anonymously, for the magazines of her day, for the Southern Literary Messenger, Godey's Lady's Book, Peter Parley' s Annual, and Herrick and Longacre's National Portrait Gallery; in 1828 she published a second book, called What is Gentility? Margaret Bayard (1778–1844) was born in Philadelphia to John and Margaret Hodge Bayard. Her father, a staunch Federalist, was a member of the Continental Congress and speaker of the Pennsylvania assembly. At age twenty-two Margaret married her second cousin, Samuel Harrison Smith (1772–1845), a Republican, who at Jefferson's suggestion, founded the National Intelligencer in 1800 and who from 1809 to 1819 served as the president of the Bank of Washington. ⁽¹⁾ James Madison appointed Samuel Smith commissioner of the revenue of the Treasury Department in 1813 and secretary of the treasury pro tem the following year. Smith's close association with Jef ferson and Madison provided the access for Margaret to become acquainted with the prominent politicians, businessmen, and city visitors whom she so deftly captured in A Winter in Washington. As it turned out, however, Smith's most precious legacy is not her publications but her delightful letters to family and friends. Her correspondence chronicles not only Smith's own life as a leader in Washington society but the circumstances surrounding many contemporary events; her keen insight is a mirror by which we can catch a glimpse of the private side of some of the most distinguished citizens of the young republic.

As president of the Washington branch of the Bank of the United States, Samuel Smith in August 1828 traveled to Charlottesville at the request of Nicholas Biddle, president of the Bank of the United States. The Smiths, who had first visited central Virginia for a few days in early August 1809 following Jefferson's retirement from public life, ⁽²⁾ now returned to Charlottesville when James Monroe's Albemarle County property, Highland, was put up for auction by the Bank of the United States. Accompanied by their young daughter Anna Maria, the Smiths visited Monticello, the University of Virginia, and James Madison's Montpelier. Margaret describes the scenes of her visits in letters to two of her sisters, Anna Bayard Boyd, the wife of Samuel Boyd of New York, and Jane Bayard Kirkpatrick, who was married to New Jersey chief justice Andrew Kirkpatrick of New Brunswick. Margaret, the seventh of her parents' eight children who survived infancy, went to live with the Kirkpatricks at age fourteen after her step-mother died. Her two letters printed below are from the Papers of Margaret Bayard Smith at the Library of Congress, a correspondence collection consisting of several thousand letters. She originally addressed the four-page letter of 2 August 1828 to "Mrs Kirkpatrick Brunswick New Jersey" but apparently sometimes before posting the letter from Charlottesville the next day she marked through that address and wrote in "Mrs. Samuel Boyd—Pine Street. New York." Smith also sent the eight-page letter, written between 8 and 12 August and postmarked at Washington on 19 August, to Mrs. Boyd.

Margaret Bayard Smith
to Anna Bayard Boyd & Jane Bayard Kirkpatrick

Charlott's Ville—Saturday evening August—2d—1828

Here I am, seperated from you my dear sisters by mountains! . . . We are at a spacious & elegant Hotel—have a drawing-room on the second floor, with our bed-room opening from it—& Mr Smith's adjoining, for Anna lodges with me—the bed rooms open on a piazza—from which we see mountains rising all round us—the nearest is Monticello on the north-west—over there in the S. west, rise the Alleghany, or Blue ridge—reposing in their blue & misty grandeur on the horizon & looking like vast masses of clouds. From our drawing room windows, a beautiful country beyond the Court-House & some of the private dwellings of Charlotts ville ⁽³⁾—with mountains in the distance.—Dear Monticello!—my chief inducement to take this long journey, was once more to visit it revered shades & to weep over the grave of one of the best & greatest of men & of a friend—loved & venerated.—Mr Smith had business here—Mr Monroe's vast landed estate in this neighbourhood being made over to the Bank of the U.S. in payment of his debt to that institution, Mr Biddle, expressed a wish to mr Smith, that if such a journey should be agreeable to him, he would come on & superintend the sale, which is take place on monday. ⁽⁴⁾ The Court is then to meet—& it is expected hundreds of people will be here—As politics, law, justice & business of all kind are transacted at Virginia Courts—As I had not been very well, he thought a journey & mountain air might be of use to me—As Anna had never been from home, excepting to Heywood ⁽⁵⁾—I chose her as my companion & fille de chambre & nurse, should any of my attacks of fever, render one necessary—To make the journey easy—we came in our own carriage & to vary the scene & avoid some very bad roads, we came as far as Frederick's burg in the steam-boat—having the carriage on board ⁽⁶⁾—This place is 70 miles from Frederick's b urg & by rising with the sun, we have performed the journey with great ease in two days—stopping to rest two hours at breakfast & two at dinner—From the Potomack, to this elevated spot, there is a continual rise—hill, after hill—I do not believe in the whole distance we ever found 2 miles of Level at a time—generally it was up one hill, down & up another—Some of them tremendously precipitous to such a rare traveller & great coward as myself. Yesterday we passed by a turnpike, one end of a mountain—the ascent—was almost too much for my courage—To day I suffered but little from fear & when We past the ridge, it was through a gap, along the banks of the Ravena a mountain river—rocky & enclosed in overhanging & picturesque banks ⁽⁷⁾—It was a kind of defile through which the road wound, high hills on each side—the sun—hot & scarcely a breath of air—We suffered from the heat, but it enhanced our enjoyment on reaching this height & taking possession of our cool airy appartment, together with the luxury of a bath.—I felt so well & so happy, when after bathing & changing my dress, I seated myself at this pleasant window that as usual I longed to participate my happiness with those I love & as Anna wished to be the writer home—I determined to avail myself of the propitious moment to write to you—Our supper table is set & Mr. Smith waits for me—so good night—I will only add, I had a short & pleasant interview with Jefferson Randolph as he was passing through this place, with his two daughters—the great grand children of Mr Jefferson. ⁽⁸⁾

Monday evening—Yesterday morning, we were informed Mr Mead, one of the best & most pious preachers in the Episcopalian Church, was in Charlottsville & would preach ⁽⁹⁾—We went to hear him & were both edified & gratified—There was a very large & respectable congregation; at least 20 private carriages were at the door, as many of the gentry from the county even from the other side of the mountain had assembled to hear this popular preacher—

Mr. Hugh Nelson, late minister to Spain, was one ⁽¹⁰⁾ he & many other of the most respectable men of the place were among the communicants—There were six tables—I have never before, since I left your part of the world seen so many communicants, from this circumstance I should suppose much greater attention was paid to religion, than I had been led to expect in Virginia.—We had an excellent sermon & the whole service was solemn & affecting. In the afternoon, we went to the University, it is about 1¼ miles from Town—Never have I beheld a more imposing work of Art—On a Commanding height, surround by mountains, rises the Rotunda, or central building, forming one side of an oblong square—on two other sides running from North to south are the Pavillions, or Proffessor's houses—at about 60 or 70 feet apart, connected by terraces, beneath which are the dormitories, or Lodging sleeping rooms of the students—The terrace, projects about 8 feet beyond the rooms & is supported on brick Arches, forming beneath the arcade a paved walk, sheltered from the heats of summer & the storms of winter—A wide lawn separates the two rows of Pavillions & dormitories—the South end is at present open, & standing there gives a noble & magnificent view of the buildings—There are 12 Pavilions ⁽¹¹⁾—each one exhibiting the different orders of Architecture & built after classic models—generaly Grecian—The Rotunda is in form & proportion like the Pantheon at Rome—it has a noble portico—the Pillars, cornice, &ca of the Corinthian.

We went to the house of Professor Lomax, who is a near relation of William Washingtons & were most kindly & hospitably received—He has a very large family—wife & daughters friendly & agreeable. ⁽¹²⁾ We sat in the Portico of his Pavillion & feasted our eyes on the beauties of the surrounding scenery—Then walked through the buildings—visited the Rotunda & the library—a magnificent apartment—larger & more beautiful than the library in the Capitol—but I cannot go into details—The whole impression on my mind—was delightful—elevating!—for the objects both of nature & art by which I was surrounded, are equaly sublime & beautiful. We returned to our Hotel by sun-set & soon after Mr Nelson & one or two other gentlemen & a lady whom we knew, called & passed the evening with us—

We promised this amiable family, to return & take a more minute survey this morning—they ask us to dine, but Mr Smith's business did not permit of our accepting the invitation—We promised to be there by 9 o clock—but before that hour young Mr Lomax was here to accompany us—He returned with us & has just gone, not having left Anna Maria's side ten minutes at a time—I have been joking her on her attractions!—The whole family received us like old friends & near relations—Professor Lomax is a charming man—in every respect, looks, voice—manner, so like Mr Wirt that he might be mistaken for him— ⁽¹³⁾

He & I sat in the Library looking over books & conversig on literary subjects for more than two hours, while the young people were roaming about & climbing to the dome or roof of the Rotunda  I have seldom passed two hours more agreeably. I felt sorry Mr Smith could not participate my pleasure but business detained him in the Town. A violent shower prevented our going up one of the adjoining mountains, on the top of which the Observatory is built. ⁽¹⁴⁾—Anna Maria was positively enchanted & I could scarcely get her away—When we returned to our Hotel, we found the space between it & the court-House filled with hundreds of people—& amused ourselves the rest of the day in watching the various & curious groups & hearing the various cries—for the Court, is likewise a kind of fair—& sales of various kinds going out—while that of justice was going on within the Court-House—In the afternoon Professor Lomax, came to see us—soon afterwards Mr Reeves, member of Congress & several other persons called on us & agreeable conversation passed away the time—Mr Reeves insisted on our calling at his house & we have promised to pass tomorrow night—We shall go in the morning to Monticello—& from thence in the afternoon to Mr. Reeve's, which is 14 miles further on & the next day to Mr Madison's— ⁽¹⁵⁾

Thus far, my excursion has been far pleasanter than I expected—I have seen more persons & the scenery has been more beautiful than I anticipated—This hasty sketch will give you a very imperfect idea, of the pleasure I have enjoyed—An hour ago, we had one, which it would require a whole sheet to describe—We heard a pleasing voice, delivering what we thought an animated Oration on the pavement before the house—on looking out of the window we discovered it to be Phillip Barbour, the member of Congress ⁽¹⁶⁾  he was sitting on the Pavement, surround by a dozen or twenty gentlemen & men—whom he was entertaining with a history of events, debates & scenes which took place in Congress-Hall—roars of laughter followed some of his stories & attention waited on all—I mean to commit one or two of his anecdotes to paper—they were original & piquant.

It is now late—& I conclude my letter with my visit to Charlotts ville & shall when I return home write to you again & give you an account of the rest of my adventures—Last summer you & sister sent me sketches of your excursions & I now, unexpectedly have an opportunity of returning the Compliment—But good night my dear sisters—

M H Smith

Sidney—Augt. 12—1828. ⁽¹⁷⁾

. . . Before this I presume you have received my hastily scribbled letter from Charlottsville—I am almost sorry that I wrote so carelessly under the excitement of feeling—my little journal would have been better had it been quietly & more carefully written at home—It proved at least, that the idea of my dear sisters, is ever present & enhances what pleasures fall to my lot—I entirely forget where I left off, but if not mistaken it was after I had been at the University of Virginia—One of the finest specimens of art & the most magnificent Institution I have ever seen—It has a most imposing effect—In a city, or land cultivated country it would not be so impressive—But on a noble height—embosomed in mountains—surrounded with a landscape so rich, varied & beautiful—so remote from any city—There was something novel, as well as grand in its locality, that certainly had a strong effect on the imagination. Were I, a young man & a student there—methinks the place, alone, would purify & elevate my mind—The discipline of the Institution has been greatly improved—& Mr Maddison, who is no vissionary or enthusiast, says he does not believe more orderly habits or purer morals are to be found in any other College in the U.S.—Some years ago, when some riot broke out among the Students, originating in a mere frolic, in which the faculty interfered & were resisted, they had to call together the Rector, (then Mr J—) & some of the nearest Visitors (or Trustees).—The students, previous to their arrival had determined not to yeild, or give up each others names, but if it became the alternative, to submit to expulsion in a body.—Mr Jefferson & several of the visitors assembled—the Students called before them, stood erect, & looked defiance—there was a silence—a pause of expectation, waiting Mr Js— rising—He sat amidst them, with his bent form & grey hairs, like a Father amidst his children—He looked upon them with the tenderness of a father & it required an evident struggle to suppress his emotions—At last he arose—his lips moved—he essayed to speak—burst into tears & sank back into his seat!—The shock was electric!—The proud spirit of youth yeild to the tenderness of youth & one & all submitted—acknowledged their faults—& with out the least equivocation—answered all the interrogotories put to them—To be sure Chapman Johnson, ⁽¹⁸⁾ finding Mr J. could not speak, arose & addressed them, but as one of the young men told me it was not his words, but Mr Jefferson's tears that melted their stubborn purpose. If I recollect aright, 20 or more were expelled—the disciplin reformed—since which time, no disorder, no rebellion of any kind has occurred ⁽¹⁹⁾—The Episcopalian & Presbyterian Ministers alternately preach at the University on Sabbath afternoons, & the Students are allowed to attend in the mornings any of the churches in Town, their Conscience or inclination lead them to.—After passing 2½ pleasant days at Chalottsville We set off on tuesday for Monticello—I cannot stop to describe the windings of the road among the mountain Scenery—Near the Summit, a little off the road, we got out of the Carriage to visit the grave of Jefferson—A rude stone wall encloses a small square, left in a state of nature, full of forrest trees & rocks & wild plants, amidst which is Mr J's— grave between that of his wife & daughter— ⁽²⁰⁾

Were I to describe all the feelings that swelled my bosom while standing by the side of that lonely & lowly grave in the solitude of the mountains—or the reflections on human life & human greatness, which rushed in my mind, I should leave no space to say anything of the interesting family, this great man has left behind him—Left poor—& afflicted.—I will then restrain my pen & carry you with me to the summit of the mountain, on which his now desolate mansion stands—How different did it seem, from what it did 18 years ago!—No kind friend, with his gracious countenance stood in the Portico to welcome us—No train of domestics hastened with smiling alacrity to shew us forwards—All was silent—Ruin, has already commenced its ravages—The inclosures—the terraces—the outer houses—But we drove to the door—ascended the steps—knocked & after a while a little negro girl, poorly dressed open'd those once wide portals.—We entered the Hall once filled with busts & statues & natural curiosities—filled to crowding—now empty!—bare walls & defaced floor—from thence into the drawing-room—once so gay & splendid—whose walls were literally covered with pictures—like the Hall—bare & comfortless—The furniture—pictures—statues—servants—all gone—Sold—yes sold!—not descended to the survivors—But Mrs Randolph came ⁽²¹⁾—came with open arms & an affectionate countenance & seemed like the spirit of the place, that had survived its body—Yet No—the Master Spirit, the animating spirit was gone—And yet it was not gone—but seemed to be invisibly hovering near—Yes, I felt, tho' I could not see its presence—After a few moments emotion—Conversation took place—Mrs R. called her children—Now women & her grand children, the size & age of what the others had been when I last saw them. ⁽²²⁾—Scarcely chairs to sit on!—"You will excuse all that is wanting," said she. ["]You know all that has passed"—What sweetness—dignity—resignation nay cheerfulness—And such a reverse!—But her soul is superiour to the accidents & incidents of fortune—It is only where these changes touch her heart, that she feels their pressure—The family dependant on her consists of 4 daughters all women—4 sons—the youngest 12 yrs old—4 grand children—the husband of her eldest daughter Mr Triste & old Mrs Triste his grand mother—in her dotage—with no home but what Mrs R— can give her.—Mr Triste is very young & not yet in business. ⁽²³⁾—Her youngest son, she has left at Cambridge ⁽²⁴⁾—Her eldest, is married; has 7 daughters, & lives on his father's farm which he has purchased.—Mrs R & I rambled alone to a distant part of the grounds—How affecting was her conversation!—the details of the last few year's—["]Oh Mrs Smith" said she speaking of her eldest Son Jefferson—"He is my treasure!—never was there such a Son—he is my support nay he is the father of us all—he was the joy & support of his grand fathers declining years & the comforter & consolation of his fathers dying hour!"—He does indeed appear to be a most exemplary man & is very interesting in his looks—I enquired into her future plans—they were not yet fixed—In a few weeks she must leave this dear & sacred spot for in a few weeks Monticello must be sold. ⁽²⁵⁾—She still vacillates between Philadelphia & Washington as her future place of residence—She will chose that, which she thinks will be most advantageous to her children ⁽²⁶⁾—Mr Triste has studied law & intends practicing it—One of her boys, is on a farm with his eldest brother ⁽²⁷⁾—Should she come to Washington what a precious & interesting addition will She & her family be to our little circle of friends—It will be an important event to me—Next to my sisters I know not the woman I could so entirely esteem or so tenderly love. She unites a strong & highly cultivated intellect, with a soft, tender heart & a frank, communicative disposition. Oh, I earnestly hope, she may determine on Washington!—

Monday—17th. August.

Several days have elapsed, since I began this letter—A little fatigue & over excitement brought on an attack of fever—I am now quite well & resume my journal—

With a new sheet, I will commence a new subject, on the reverse of the one I wrote of on the last page—

We left Monticello—We walk'd from the very top to the bottom of the mountain, between two & 3 miles—The road was so rugged & broken, that the carriage passed it with difficulty—We travelled above thirty miles, generally through woods & up & down steep hills—Mr Smith told us very seriously, that he begged we would not be prevailed on to stay beyond a few hours at Mr Madison's, as his business required his immediate return. Anna & I felt very sorry, but of course determined to be governed by his wishes—however we did not the less heartily wish that rain or some other incident might occur to detain us at Montpelier. After breakfast, the next morning, we resumed our journey & after having lost ourselves on the mountain road, which leads thro' a wild woody track of ground & wandering for some time in Mr Madison's domain, which seem'd to us interminable, we at last reach his hospitable Mansion. ⁽²⁸⁾ We had scarcely entered on his estate, before our wishes were granted & it began to rain, at which Anna & I rejoiced & I do not believe Mr S. was sorry. We drove to the door—Mr M— met us in the Portico & gave us a cordial welcome—In the Hall Mrs Madison received me with open arms & that overflowing kindness & affection which seems a part of her nature.—We were at first conducted into the Drawing-room, which opened on the back Portico & thus commands a view through the whole house, which is surrounded with an extensive Lawn, as green as in spring; the lawn is enclosed with fine Trees, chiefly forest, but interspersed with weeping-willows & other ornamental trees, all, of most luxuriant growth & vivid verdure.—It was a beautiful scene!—The Dra wing-room walls are covered with pictures, some very fine, from the ancient masters, but most of them portraits of our most distinguished men—six or eight by Stewart.—The mantle piece—tables in each corner—in fact wherever one could be fixed, were filled with busts—& groups of figures in Plaister—So that this apartment had more the appearance of a museum of the arts than of a drawing-room. It was a charming room, giving activity to the mind, by the historic & classic ideas that it awakened.

After the first Salutations were passed, Mrs M— invited us to a chamber, where we might make ourselves comfortable, as she said—She led the way to an elegant little chamber, on the same floor & adjoining her own, furnished with crimson—damask & looking out on the beautiful Lawn—She sent a maid to attned us & said she would return by the time we had exchanged our damp clothes.—

This we soon did & she then carried us in to her own chamber—It was very large & commodious—furnished with every conveniance & much elegance—Before a large Sopha, stood a table covered with books & writing materials & on the sopha lay her work—Couches—easy-chairs &ca invited us to ease & comfortable indulgence—I told her I had no notion of playing Lady-visitor all day & sitting prim in the drawing room with our hands before & if she would resume her seat & her work, we would sit with her & work too—It was so agreed—She drew Anna, on the sopha beside her & gave her half a dozen pretty books to look over—while drawing a french arm chair, or fauteuil (what charming things they are!) close by her, I reclined at my ease—while we talked—And oh how we did talk!—We went over the last 20 years & talked of scenes long past & of persons far away or dead—These reminisences were delightful—She certainly has always been, & still is one of the happiest of human beings—Like myself, she seems to have no place about her, which could afford a lodgement for care—or trouble—Time seems to favor her as much as fortune—she looks young & she says she feels so—I can believe her—nor do I think she will ever look or feel like an old woman—They are seldom alone—but have a succession of visitors, among whom are a great many foreigners—Few visit our country with out visiting Monticello & Montpelier.—She gave me an entertaining account of the visit of the three members of parliament, who passed several days with them.— ⁽²⁹⁾

I could scarcely credit my senses, when dinner was announced & I found it to be four oclock!—So rapidly had the morning passed away—We did not rise from table until six oclock—Mr Madison was chief speaker, & his conversation was a stream of history—and continued so until ten oclock, when we s[e]parated for the night—So rich in sentiments & facts—so enlivened by anecdotes & epigramatic remarks—so frank & confidential as to opinions on men & meaures, that it had an interest & charm, which the conversation of few men now living, could have—He spoke of scenes, in which he himself had acted a conspicuous part & of great men, who had been actors in the same theatre.—No common-places—Every sentence he spoke, was worthy of being written down—The formation & adoption of the Constitution—The Convention & first Congress—the characters of their members & the secret debates—Franklin—Washington, Hamilton, John Adams—Jefferson—Jay—Patrick Henry & a host of other great men were spoken of & characteristic anecdotes of all related.—It was living History!—When I retired for the night—I felt as if my mind was full to over flowing—as if it could not contain all the new ideas it had recieved.—as if I had feasted to satiety.—And this entertaining, interesting & communicative personage, had a single stranger or indifferent person been present,—would have been mute—cold & repulsive—After dinner, we all walked in the Portico, (or piazza, which is 60 feet long, supported on six lofty pillars) until twilight, then retreated to the drawing room, where we sat in a little groupe close together & took our coffee while we talked—Some of Mr M—s anecdotes were very droll & we often laughed very heartily—I wish my letter was large enough to contain a few of them, which I am sure would make you laugh too—He retains all the sportiveness of his character, which he used to reveal now & then to those whom he knew intimately—And Mrs M. says he is as fond of a frolic & of romping with the girls as ever—His little blue eyes, sparkled like stars from under his bushy grey-eye brows & amidst the deep wrinkles of his poor thin face.—Nor have they lost their look of mischief that used to lurk in their corners—and which vanished, & gave place to an expression ever solemn, when the conversation took a serious turn.—

In the course of the evening, at my request Mrs M. took me to see old Mrs Madison—She lacks but 3 years of being a hundred years old ⁽³⁰⁾—When I enquired of her how she was—"I have been a blest woman," she replied—["]blest all my life & blest in this my old age—I have no sickness—no pain—except my hearing, my senses are but little impaired—I pass my time in reading & knitting."—Something being said of the infirmities of old age—"You," said she, looking at Mrs M— "you are my mother now, & take care of me in my old age."—I felt much affected by the sight of this venerable woman—her face is not as much wrinkled as her son's, who is only 77 years old.—Mr & Mrs Madison urged our passing several days with them & on our declining told us we must come soon again & stay longer—Anna Maria was highly gratified & delighted & says if she lives to be as old as the venerable mother, she will never lose the impression this visit has made on her mind—She listened to the conversation with the greatest interest & was charmed with Mrs M.'s affable affectionate manner—Mrs M. called her nothing but "my little girl," & talked a good deal to her—one time on the Portico, she took Anna by the hand, saying, ["]come let us run a race, I do not believe you can out run me—Madison & I often run races here, when the weather does not allow us to walk!"—And she really did run very briskly—it was more than I could do, had I attempted it—which I did not however, as I preferred listening to the gentlemen's conversation—We parted with them the next morning after lingering until a late hour over the breakfast-table  The rest of our journey, 50 miles by land & 70 by water, was quiet, commonplace—every day pleasure, which it is not worth detailing—We reached home on Saturday after 10 days absence—Eleven days of agreeable travelling during which we had seen three grand & interesting objects the University—Monticello & Montpelier—Anna, says it will be an epoch in her life—to which she shall always recur with the most pleasurable feelings—I paid the penalty I always pay, for a deeply excited interest or very lively emotion.—a fever—It confined me three days to my bed—but when the pain was subdued—I found pleasure in my confinement to a bed surrounded by my dear attentive children—Mrs Thornton—Mrs Bomford ⁽³¹⁾ & my neighbours likewise beguiled the tedium of the time.—I am now quite well. . . . Farewell—

M H Smith—

The End

Notes