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History Founding Fathers

If Walls Could Talk: Touring James Madison’s Virginia Family Home at Montpelier

“Knowledge will forever govern ignorance: And a people who mean to be their own Governors, must arm themselves with the power which knowledge gives,” wrote President James Madison.

For six months, the “Father of the Constitution” sequestered himself in his upstairs study in the family’s Virginia home, Montpelier. There, he engaged in an intensive study of civilizations—both ancient and modern—in his quest for wisdom in shaping the Constitution of a young republic. Here, he synopsized his ideas into principles he felt essential for a representative democracy: what would be known as the “Virginia Plan,” which would become the basis for creating our Constitution.

James Madison would always remember the day, as a youth of 14, when his family moved into the fine brick Georgian house. In fact, he helped carry in the furniture. His father, James Madison Sr., built the symmetrical house in Flemish bond (patterned brick) in the 1760s. It had a center hall and four rooms on the first floor and five rooms on the second. Crowning the house was a low hipped shingle roof with chimneys on both ends. James Madison, “Father of the Constitution” and fourth president, would consider Montpelier his home for the duration of his life.

Miniature bust portrait of James Madison by Charles Willson Peale, 1783. (Courtesy of Montpelier)

Returning from Philadelphia, Madison brought his wife Dolley to his family’s Montpelier home in 1797. Seventeen years her senior, James Madison had married the recently widowed Dolley and adopted her son, John Payne Todd, three years prior. At Montpelier, the Madisons added a 30-foot addition to the house, creating a very fine multigenerational duplex, with separate living quarters for each generation. The older and younger Madisons would visit each other by way of the grand Tuscan portico that was added to the house at the time. It covered the two distinct entrance doors to each family’s part of the dwelling. There was no interior passage between them.

A careful examination of the facade reveals the place where the addition was joined to the original house, tying in the new brick to the original corner. Madison’s mother Nellie continued to live in the house following the death of James Sr. in 1801.

The younger James Madison had served in Congress, and he formerly “retired” from public service when he and Dolley moved to Montpelier. In 1801, Madison’s good friend Thomas Jefferson appointed him secretary of state. He served in that capacity until 1809, when he was elected president. During the next eight years, he and Dolley would serve as president and first lady, living in the President’s House until it was burned by the British in August 1814. After restoration, when the charred sandstone exterior was painted, the presidential mansion became the “White House.”

The classical temple at Montpelier, designed by James Madison, housed a 24-foot ice well. (Courtesy of Montpelier)

In 1809, Madison took some of his $25,000-a-year salary as president and began expanding Montpelier. He added one-story wings on either end of the house. On the south side, he created an apartment for his mother. On the north side, he built a library for his 4,000-volume collection. Thomas Jefferson designed a new grand entry door at the center of the mansion, which led into the Drawing Room, where the former president greeted visitors. Comparable to the hall of Jefferson’s Monticello, Madison’s Drawing Room became a showcase for his interests and ideals. It was designed to make a powerful impression.

According to historian Michael Quinn, Madison’s Drawing Room was intended to be a history lesson: “For Madison, the history of humanity was really his laboratory—and he had studied past attempts at self-government—so he knew that what America was today was founded on the past.” Prominently hung on the wall is a large painting featuring a Pan figure and a nymph, painted by Gerrit Van Honthorst around 1630. This 17th-century Dutch painting became a reference to the Greek and Roman world and the beginning of democracy. Next to it is a large painting of the “Supper at Emmaus,” a reference to the time when Biblical ideals informed the affairs of men.

According to Quinn, the final epoch of America’s foundation is represented by the series of presidential portraits arranged in a group. Washington’s portrait is alone at the top. Below are portraits of John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and James Monroe: the first president above the second, third, and fifth presidents. Quinn attributes Madison’s omission of his portrait in sequence, between Jefferson and Monroe, to two factors. First, Madison was an incredibly modest man, and second, where his portrait is placed in the room is next to that of his beloved Dolley. This, Quinn stated, shows you what was truly important to the man.

Overlooking the Blue Ridge Mountains, James Madison’s desk is located in the middle of his second-floor library, where he wrote the foundations of the U.S. Constitution. Courtesy of Montpelier

There are busts of many of the nation’s Founding Fathers in the Drawing Room—all friends of the Madisons—including George Washington, John Adams, James Monroe, and Benjamin Franklin. They entertained an endless stream of visitors in the years following the Madison presidency. The Marquis de Lafayette was a guest, as well as Andrew Jackson. If you came as a friend, or with a letter of introduction, you would be welcomed to come further into the family home. If you simply came to the house unannounced, you might only come into the drawing room, which served as a sort of early American visitor’s center.

If you were an invited guest to Montpelier, however, you might dine with the Madisons in their elegant Dining Room. The walls are covered in wallpaper known as “Virchaux Drapery,” which is of French design and creates the effect of being in a pavilion. This stylized drapery pattern was designed by the architect Joseph Ramée in partnership with Henry Virchaux, a French émigré printer working in Philadelphia between 1814 and 1816.

James Madison would not sit at the head of the table, as was culturally expected. He preferred to sit along the side. The head of the table would be occupied by Dolley, who directed and coordinated the meals. This arrangement was startling at first to visitors, but soon they found it quite agreeable. James and Dolley gracefully shared the tasks of entertaining: He was more often involved in the weighty affairs of state being discussed, while she enjoyed the art of hospitality.

The dining room walls are covered in reproduction wallpaper known as “Virchaux Drapery,” which is of French design and dates back to 1815 in Philadelphia. (Courtesy of Montpelier)

Beyond the Dining Room is the wing containing Madison’s great library. It was built while he was away, serving as president, but clearly with a future purpose in mind. He had regular correspondence with his builder, James Dinsmore, who also worked for Thomas Jefferson. Mr. Dinsmore weighed in on the design of the library. A letter from Dinsmore reads:

I intended before you went from here to mention to you whether you would not think it advisable to put two windows in the end of the library room? But it escaped My Memory; I have been Reflecting on it Since and believe it will as without them the wall will have a very Dead appearance, and there will be no direct View towards the temple Should you ever build one. My reason for omitting them in the Drawing was that the Space might be occupyd (sic) for Book Shelves but I believe there will be sufficiency of room without as the piers between the windows will be large and the whole of the other end except the breadth of the door may be occupyd (sic) for that purpose.

The windows that Dinsmore suggested were put in, and the round classical temple was built. The library was planned as a space that was large enough for Madison to pursue his last great work: compiling, annotating, and expanding further upon the notes he had taken of the Constitutional Convention (May to September 1787) in order to complete a thorough record of the founding of America. The urgency he felt to perform this work was born in the months of research he had done prior to the convention. In the late 1780s, he carried out a great deal of research to study every historical attempt of mankind to form a democracy, confederation, or any method of representative government.

Visitors of the Madisons described the walls of the drawing room as being “entirely covered” with paintings. (Courtesy of Montpelier)
An architectural drawing of the evolution of Montpelier, by Bob Kirchman. (Courtesy of Montpelier)

Madison found little documentation to guide him and numerous accounts of failure. He set out to produce a guide that exemplified the decision and debates of the American founders. During his final years, he wrote a thousand pages that were later compiled into “The Papers of James Madison,” providing a record for future men who may also be striving for liberty. Even in his 80s, visitors report that his mind was bright as he discussed these ideals. He died at the age of 85, on June 28, 1836—the oldest surviving delegate to the Constitutional Convention.

Madison was always fearful that America’s own experiment in self governance might fail. After his death, a document he had written, “James Madison, Advice to My Country, December, 1830” was found among his papers. In it he wrote, with clear allusion to both classical and Biblical wisdom:

As this advice, if it ever see the light will not do it till I am no more, it may be considered as issuing from the tomb where truth alone can be respected, and the happiness of man alone consulted. … The advice nearest to my heart and deepest in my convictions is that the Union of the States be cherished and perpetuated. Let the open enemy to it be regarded as a Pandora with her box opened; and the disguised one, as the Serpent creeping with his deadly wiles into Paradise.

From Sept. Issue, Volume IV

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History Founding Fathers

Roger Sherman, Low-Key Founding Father

Among the Founding Fathers, Roger Sherman is one of the best-kept secrets. But he shouldn’t be, especially in light of the cumulative and lasting effect he has had on this nation, including the present-day debates on the meaning and legal effect of the Ninth Amendment.

Most notable is the fact that he is the only Founding Father to have signed all of these prominent founding documents: the Declaration and Resolves (1774), which contain many of the rights that are enumerated in the First Amendment; the Articles of Association (1774), which was a trade boycott with Great Britain; the Declaration of Independence (1776); the Articles of Confederation (1777); and the U.S. Constitution (1787).

Sherman’s influence on the Constitution was greater than most realize. Historian Richard Werther wrote in 2017 in the Journal of the American Revolution that, at the Constitutional Convention debates, “of 39 issues cited, Sherman prevailed on 19, Madison on 10, and 7 resulted in compromises (the other 3 were interpretational issues for which no clear-cut winner is determinable).” Werther adds, “While no one is arguing that Sherman, not Madison, assumes the mantle as ‘Father of the Constitution,’ clearly Sherman had a bigger role than may have been previously understood.”

As a boy in Connecticut, Roger Sherman was self-educated in his father’s library and later by a newly built grammar school. He managed two general stores. Although he had no formal education in law, he passed the bar exam and was admitted to the bar in 1754. He wrote and published an almanac each year from 1750 to 1761. He served as a mayor, a justice of the peace, a county judge, a Connecticut Superior Court judge, and as a delegate to both the First Continental Congress and the Second Continental Congress. After ratification of the Constitution, he served in the U.S. House of Representatives from 1789 to 1791 and in the U.S. Senate from 1791 until his death in 1793.

Sherman’s reputation was stellar. He was described as honest, cunning, a staunch opponent of slavery, a devout Christian who was outspoken about his faith, and a protector of states’ rights. William Pierce, a delegate to the Constitutional Convention who took extensive notes, said of Sherman, “He deserves infinite praise, no man has a better heart nor a clearer head. If he cannot embellish he can furnish thoughts that are wise and useful. He is an able politician, and extremely artful in accomplishing any particular object; it is remarked that he seldom fails.”

Role in the Bill of Rights and the Ninth Amendment

Originally, Sherman was opposed to adding a bill of rights to the Constitution due to its being “unnecessary” and “dangerous.” He, like other Federalists, stated that it was unnecessary as the powers enumerated in the Constitution granted limited authority; if certain powers were not enumerated and delegated, then the federal government wouldn’t have the authority to infringe upon the rights in question. Plus, the states had their own constitutions protecting their citizens’ rights, and the Constitution is concerned only with federal guarantees, not states’ guarantees. The Federalists considered it dangerous to list certain rights as it could be construed that other rights not singled out were surrendered to the government; in other words, if they were not written down, then those rights would not be considered protected.

The original Constitution was signed by 39 delegates on September 17, 1787. It was during the First Congress on June 8, 1789, that James Madison proposed to “incorporate such amendments in the Constitution as will secure those rights, which they consider as not sufficiently guarded […] to satisfy the public that we do not disregard their wishes.” After Madison persuaded Congress to create a Bill of Rights, the proposals were referred to a House select committee, the Committee of Eleven, which took up the debates. In 1987, the National Archives discovered among Madison’s papers the only known copy of the deliberations of that House Committee, and they are in Sherman’s handwriting, most likely reflecting the thoughts of the committee as opposed to his personal views.

This discovery has created a vigorous debate among legal scholars as to the meaning and legal effect of the Ninth Amendment, the text of which reads, “The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people”: namely, what are the rights “retained by the people” referring to, and what legal effect do they have? To give context, it is essential to go back to Madison’s original draft regarding retained rights:

The exceptions here or elsewhere in the Constitution, made in favor of particular rights, shall not be so construed as to diminish the just importance of other rights retained by the people, or as to enlarge the powers delegated by the Constitution; but either as actual limitations of such powers, or as inserted merely for greater caution.

After the House committee’s debates and revisions, Sherman’s notes read:

The people have certain natural rights which are retained by them when they enter into society, such as the rights of conscience in matters of religion; of acquiring property; and of pursuing happiness and safety; of speaking, writing and publishing their sentiments with decency and freedom; of peaceably assembling to consult their common good, and of applying to government by petition or remonstrance for redress of grievances. Of these rights therefore they shall not be deprived by the government of the United States.

According to the Bill of Rights Institute, once the Bill of Rights was drafted, Sherman supported it, just as the people of Connecticut supported it.

Deborah Hommer is a history and philosophy enthusiast who gravitates toward natural law and natural rights. She founded the nonprofit ConstitutionalReflections (website under construction) with the purpose of educating others in the rich history of Western civilization.

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Founding Fathers History

Founding Father George Clymer: A Founder Twice Over

By the time George Clymer was 1 year old, both his mother and his father were dead. Orphaned, George was placed in the care of his Philadelphia uncle, William Coleman. Coleman was an extraordinary man—a lawyer and merchant of Quaker stock, a friend of Benjamin Franklin (and member of the latter’s Junto), a founder with Franklin of the American Philosophical Society and the University of Pennsylvania, and a leading philanthropist. In his “Autobiography,” Franklin described Coleman as possessed of the “coolest, clearest head, the best heart, and the exactest morals of almost any man I ever met.” And fortunately for young Clymer, uncle William loved him like a son.

Clymer was educated primarily in the extensive personal library of his new benefactor, where Coleman often found the lad poring over some tome or another. Clymer’s favorite author was Jonathan Swift. He thus developed a predilection for learning at a young age, and before long, he had adopted “republicanism” as a political philosophy. He thus cherished liberty as defined by Thomas Gordon and John Trenchard who, writing anonymously as “Cato” in the 1720s, characterized it as:

“The power which every man has over his own actions, and his right to enjoy the fruit of his labour, art, industry, as far as by it he hurts not the society, or any members of it, by taking from any member, or by hindering him from enjoying what he himself enjoys.”

George’s education continued in his uncle’s counting-house, where he was trained in numbers—and the ins and outs of running a mercantile enterprise.

An Influential Merchant in Tempestuous Times

Clymer inherited some wealth from his grandfather in 175o. Then, with the death of William Coleman in 1769, he inherited the lion’s share of his uncle’s sizable estate as well. This was a great material blessing, of course, but these were tempestuous times. The French and Indian War had effectively removed the French from North America—but British authorities decided to leave ten thousand troops on the continent. To raise revenue in support of these troops, the various Navigation Acts—heretofore somewhat ignored—would finally be enforced, including a new set of regulations: the Sugar Act (1764). Colonists from Massachusetts to Pennsylvania had protested loudly at this, questioning Parliament’s very right to levy such a tax in the first place. Many colonials boycotted British goods.

The real uproar, however, came with Parliament’s passage of the Stamp Act (1765), which applied an internal tax on the colonies for the first time. In response, the Sons of Liberty rioted in the streets, colonial legislatures passed anti-Stamp Act resolutions, and an inter-colonial Stamp Act Congress issued a joint protest to Parliament and to the king. Clymer, now 26 years old and recently married, was among the protesting colonials. Indeed, among the Philadelphia elite, he was one of the most militant advocates of resistance to Britain.

Even though the Stamp Act was eventually repealed, Parliament immediately passed the Declaratory Act, reminding the colonists that Parliament hadn’t given up the principle that it could legislate for the colonies “in all cases whatsoever.” The subsequent Townshend Acts demonstrated this, and once again the non-importation movement roared to life, crippling British exports. Clymer himself led boycott efforts in Philadelphia, at the same time authoring political pamphlets and broadsides in support of separation from Britain—a very radical view at the time. Despite the barrage of colonial opposition, Charles Townshend, the British politician who proposed the Townshend Acts, stringently enforced the acts. When the Massachusetts assembly issued an anti-Townshend circular letter, the governor dissolved the assembly, sparking mob violence, in turn precipitating the arrival of four regiments of British troops to Boston.

It was in this atmosphere that Clymer inherited his uncle’s significant mercantile business. He now had much more to lose, even as the military occupation up north produced ever-worsening relations between British authorities and the people of Massachusetts—and, by extension, those of other colonies as well. The killing of a twelve-year-old named Christopher Snider by a customs informer in Boston was the last straw, leading within a couple of weeks to the “Boston Massacre.” Troops were subsequently pulled out of Boston proper.

The Tea Act and Tea Parties

Though things seemed to quiet down after 1770, the Gaspee Affair of 1772—when a British customs schooner was attacked off the coast of Rhode Island—sparked both British and colonial outrage once more. The next year, the Tea Act was passed, favoring the British East India Company at the expense of countless American smugglers.

At 34 years of age, Clymer took charge of local resistance to the Tea Act. When the Boston rebels established a committee of correspondence with fellow rebels in Philadelphia, they particularly sought out Clymer. Clymer also played a leading role in Philadelphia’s Oct. 16, 1773 “tea meeting,” when, according to an early biographer, citizens of the city were impressed by Clymer’s “reasoning, sincerity, zeal, and enthusiastic patriotism.” The gathering produced a series of resolutions, one of which declared that:

“The resolution lately entered into by the East India Company, to send out their tea to America subject to the payment of duties on its being landed here, is an open attempt to enforce the ministerial plan, and a violent attack upon the liberties of America.”

The resolutions of the Philadelphia “tea meeting” inspired Bostonians to similar resolves. Indeed, Massachusetts man John Adams would later write that:

“The flame kindled on that day [Oct. 16, 1773] soon extended to Boston and gradually spread throughout the whole continent. It was the first throe of that convulsion which delivered Great Britain of the United States.”

That December, just days after Boston’s more famous “Tea Party,” Philadelphia held one of her own, intercepting a British tea ship. Clymer himself convinced the captain to turn around and return to Britain.

George Clymer thus helped set in motion the chain of events that would ultimately explode into armed revolution.

Signing the Founding Documents

After the “shot heard round the world” was fired at Lexington, initiating the American Revolutionary War, Clymer answered the call for “Patriot” volunteers, engaging the British in company with other Pennsylvanians in support of George Washington and the Continental Army. He also established a militia and helped fortify Philadelphia. Around the same time, and in a show of support for “the cause,” he poured much of his gold and silver into the Congress’s paper money, or “continentals,” eventually losing a fortune when the “continentals” were inflated into worthlessness. But when part of the Pennsylvania delegation to the Second Continental Congress rejected the proposed joint Declaration of Independence and abandoned that body, Clymer was elected to help fill their vacant positions.

This he did—and as such, he was present to inscribe his signature onto the new confederation’s founding document, along with 55 other men. “For the support of this Declaration,” Clymer and his fellows thereby announced, “with a firm reliance on the protection of divine providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.”

Clymer went on to act as a liaison between George Washington and the Continental Congress, a risky business, since it often involved covert travel across enemy territory to the front; served in the Congress for most of the war years; helped formulate Pennsylvania’s constitution; secured an alliance with the Shawnee and the Delaware; and raised vital funds for the Continental Army. After the war, he continued to work as a merchant while serving in the Pennsylvania legislature, then represented that state in the Philadelphia Convention of 1787. It was there that the Constitution was written. Clymer was a signatory.

Thus it was that Clymer became one of only half a dozen men to have signed both the Declaration of Independence and, 11 years later, the federal Constitution. In his honor, a borough and a township in Pennsylvania and a town in New York are all named after him.

Dr. W. Kesler Jackson is a university professor of history. Known on YouTube as “The Nomadic Professor,” he offers online history courses featuring his signature on-location videos, filmed the world over, at NomadicProfessor.com