But Mrs. Madison had in her even better stuff than that required satisfactorily to fulfil the onerous calls of her social position. She dearly loved her husband; and when the storm of war again burst over the land, she supported and encouraged him in noble manner. Indeed, she presents a far more heroic picture than does the president, whose conduct at the battle of Bladensburg and during his wanderings after the flight from Washington, was not that for which we might look from one whose title was that of Commander-in-Chief of the forces of the United States. When Washington was threatened, Mrs. Madison gave a fine example of cheerful bravery; and when the peril grew to its highest point we find her thus writing to her sister: "Will you believe it, my sister, we have had a battle or skirmish near Bladensburg, and I am still here within sound of the cannon! Mr. Madison comes not. May God protect him! Two messengers, covered with dust, come to bid me fly; but I wait for him.... Our kind friend, Mr. Carroll, has come to hasten my departure, and is in very bad humor with me because I insist on waiting until the large picture of General Washington is secured, and it requires to be unscrewed from the wall."
It was probably this latter incident which gave rise to a venerable legend as to "Dolly Madison and the Constitution"; but the truth is sufficient to make her name honored. At last she was compelled to fly without her husband; and it is related that at the house where she paused for rest, the "lady" there residing came to the steps and called out: "Mrs. Madison, if that's you, come down and go out! Your husband has got mine out fighting, and, damn you, you shan't stay in my house!" To such straits was fallen "the first lady of the land"; and this profane virago simply, if somewhat coarsely, expressed a sentiment that was not confined to her or to a thousand like her.
The wanderings of the Madisons when they became reunited have passed into general history and need not here be recalled. Finally they returned to ruined Washington and watched it rise again from its ashes, British vandalism being in this instance productive of final good; for the new city was a vast improvement over the old one, which had been but tentative at the best. After the expiration of Mr. Madison's second term of office the pair took up their residence at Montpelier, and there lived almost in retirement until their deaths. Mrs. Madison survived her husband thirteen years; but she never survived the love which she gave him and which shows even more beautiful than their mutual emotion when we remember that these were middle-aged people when they were married. Even when they were old, long after their retirement into private life, we find the wife writing to her husband, during one of his few and brief absences from her, a letter which begins: "My Beloved, I trust in God that you are well again, as your letters assure me you are," and ends, "May angels guard thee, my best friend!"
Before her death, Mrs. Madison finally turned from the frivolities of society, was baptized and confirmed by the Bishop of Maryland, and declared that "There is nothing in this world really worth caring for." She did not include her love for her husband among the "things of this world"; and doubtless she spoke of the rest from full knowledge and with true judgment. She had in her nature elements which under stress showed high and noble; but probably she will be best remembered as the representative woman of American society during the formative period of the republic.
There is another name of that day well worthy of being singled out, even among so many worthy compeers, as representative of American womanhood in some of its noblest expressions. Though, from reasons born of the political mutations of that time and of personal relationship, she was never famous in society, or even in her time, Theodosia Burr was one of the noblest, as of the most accomplished, women of her brief day. If she was unfortunate in her parentage, she at least did not think so; for never was love between parent and child more beautiful than that which existed between Aaron Burr, the ostracized "traitor," and the lovely woman who called him father. This is no place for a defence of Burr; but in glancing at his family life we must lay aside political prejudice and see him as far as we may through the eyes of his daughter. That daughter was accomplished and intelligent beyond the scope of most men as well as women of her day. Her education lacked indeed the Christian element which is so beautiful in womanhood; but otherwise it might have been pronounced sufficient by the most exigent of critics. Moreover, she was a woman of the most delicate sensibilities, the tenderest affections. When her father was persecuted, as she at least deemed it, she clung to him with a fidelity that was as touching as it was deserved; for, whatever Burr may have been to others, to his daughters he was the most loving and considerate of parents. When he fell into disgrace Theodosia made strenuous efforts in his behalf; and her letter on the subject to Mrs. Madison is a model of pathetic and yet dignified entreaty for justice.
Her whole life was full of romance. The shadow of her father's ostracism hung over her during her last years, and though she had before his fall been married to Joseph Alston, of South Carolina, she was always the daughter rather than the wife, perhaps even than the mother, though her grief at the death of her only child was terrible. This sad event occurred just after the return of Burr from his long exile, and the daughter's joy was naturally forgotten in the sorrow of the mother, even though she may have held the gain greater than the loss. Others have been models of wives and mothers; but Theodosia, though in both those characters admirable beyond cavil, stands rather as the representative American daughter. Her father was her deity, her best self, her whole good; "If the worst comes to the worst," she wrote to him when he was in exile, "I will leave everything to suffer with you." She was not driven to such sacrifice; yet the return of that beloved father to his country, if not to his rights, came too late for her. Broken down by the death of her child, she resolved to go by sea from her Southern home to New York to join her father, who alone, she thought, could give her comfort in her grief; but, true to the sad romance that surrounded her life, the little vessel on which she sailed was never heard from after leaving port. How Theodosia met her fate is unknown; but we may be sure that it was with fortitude and calmness, whatever guise that fate may have worn.
Theodosia Burr, for thus, rather than as Theodosia Alston, will she always be known, and Dorothy Madison stand out prominently as divergent types of the highest development of the women of their day; and we can hold them to have been fairly, if somewhat exaggeratedly representative of American womanhood at that period. The close of the War of 1812, like that of the Revolution, marked an era in the history of the women of America, even though the line of demarcation was not drawn with sufficient sharpness of definition to be clear to the sight. From 1785 to 1812 American society, using the word in its broadest sense, was in a condition of formation; at the end of that period it began to take on coherence and individuality in certain directions, at the same time that it became less individual in others. The close of that era found American womanhood ready for onward march. It had tried its strength in various ways, and now it knew its powers. While in its inherent qualities it was much the same as it had been twenty years before, there had arisen new conditions, mostly of internal origin, to which it must adapt itself. This was less the fact with the rural woman-life than with the urban; but it is the latter which stands out most prominently when we look back upon the past and which must be accepted as generally representative. The women of Kentucky, aiding their stalwart husbands in reclaiming the ground from the wilderness and in holding it against Indian attack, the farmer's wife, taking upon herself more than the moiety of the daily toil and rearing her children in the simple ways and faith of her fathers, even the undermost strata of the cities, that unconsidered but potent element in social history,--all these were almost unaffected by the things which made for evolution among their sisters of higher station and easier lives. It is to these latter that we must cling in our search for the true history of the women of our land in times of peace, though when strife filled the country with need for strength their praise was shared by their humbler compeers.
Into American society had been introduced an element which had for a time disappeared, but only to reappear in altered but not less effective form, the element of aristocracy. The old order had indeed faded; but a new one had leaped into its place, and it was one that was quite as powerful for good and evil as was its predecessor. A country without an aristocracy, acknowledged or merely accepted, is an impossibility, however dear to republican ideas; and the birth of the new aristocracy in America was as sure as if there had been but a change of kings when allegiance to George III. was cast off. Not the true republicanism of Washington--not the affected democracy of Jefferson--could avert its coming; it was inevitable. It remained to be seen if it would be accepted in best manner and made an influence for good rather than for evil; and this, though they did not recognize the fact, was the gravest problem that confronted American women, in their social aspect, when they once more took up the pursuits of peace.