The calls of his country would not allow Jefferson to withdraw from public life, and, living in that retirement for which he so longed, abandon himself to the delights of rural pursuits. On his way from Norfolk to Monticello he stopped to pay a visit, in Chesterfield County, to his sister-in-law, Mrs. Eppes. There he received letters from General Washington telling him that he had nominated him as Secretary of State, and urging him so earnestly and so affectionately to accept the appointment as to put a refusal on his part out of the question. He tells us in his Memoir that he received the proffered appointment with "real regret;" and we can not doubt his sincerity. In reading the lives of the Fathers of the Republic, we can but be struck with their weariness of public life, and their longings for the calm enjoyment of the sweets of domestic life in the retirement of their quiet homes. This was eminently the case with our great men from the South. Being for the most part large land-owners, their presence being needed on their estates, and agricultural pursuits seeming to have an indescribable fascination for them, all engagements grew irksome which prevented the enjoyment of that manly and independent life which they found at the head of a Southern plantation. The pomps and splendor of office had no charms for them, and we find Washington turning with regret from the banks of the Potomac to go and fill the highest post in the gift of his countrymen; Jefferson sighing after the sublime beauties of his distant Monticello, and longing to rejoin his children and grandchildren there, though winning golden opinions in the discharge of his duties as Premier; while Henry chafed in the Congressional halls, and was eager to return to his woods in Charlotte, though gifted with that wonderful power of speech whose fiery eloquence could at any moment startle his audience to their feet. But Jefferson, in this instance, had peculiar reasons for wishing a reprieve from public duties. His constant devotion to them had involved his private affairs in sad confusion, and there was danger of the ample fortune which his professional success and the skillful management of his property had secured to him being lost, merely from want of time and opportunity to look after it. He dreaded, then, to enter upon a public career whose close he could not foresee; and there is a sad tone of resignation in his letter of acceptance to General Washington, which seems to show that he felt he was sacrificing his private repose to his duty to his country; yet he did not know how entirely he was sacrificing his own for his country's good. I give the whole letter:
To George Washington.
Chesterfield, December 15th, 1789.
Sir—I have received at this place the honor of your letters of October 13th and November the 30th, and am truly flattered by your nomination of me to the very dignified office of Secretary of State, for which permit me here to return you my very humble thanks. Could any circumstance induce me to overlook the disproportion between its duties and my talents, it would be the encouragement of your choice. But when I contemplate the extent of that office, embracing as it does the principal mass of domestic administration, together with the foreign, I can not be insensible to my inequality to it; and I should enter on it with gloomy forebodings from the criticisms and censures of a public, just indeed in their intentions, but sometimes misinformed and misled, and always too respectable to be neglected. I can not but foresee the possibility that this may end disagreeably for me, who, having no motive to public service but the public satisfaction, would certainly retire the moment that satisfaction should appear to languish. On the other hand, I feel a degree of familiarity with the duties of my present office, as far, at least, as I am capable of understanding its duties. The ground I have already passed over enables me to see my way into that which is before me. The change of government, too, taking place in the country where it is exercised, seems to open a possibility of procuring from the new rulers some new advantages in commerce, which may be agreeable to our countrymen. So that as far as my fears, my hopes, or my inclination might enter into this question, I confess they would not lead me to prefer a change.
But it is not for an individual to choose his post. You are to marshal us as may be best for the public good; and it is only in the case of its being indifferent to you, that I would avail myself of the option you have so kindly offered in your letter. If you think it better to transfer me to another post, my inclination must be no obstacle; nor shall it be, if there is any desire to suppress the office I now hold or to reduce its grade. In either of these cases, be so good as only to signify to me by another line your ultimate wish, and I will conform to it cordially. If it should be to remain at New York, my chief comfort will be to work under your eye, my only shelter the authority of your name, and the wisdom of measures to be dictated by you and implicitly executed by me. Whatever you may be pleased to decide, I do not see that the matters which have called me hither will permit me to shorten the stay I originally asked; that is to say, to set out on my journey northward till the month of March. As early as possible in that month, I shall have the honor of paying my respects to you in New York. In the mean time, I have that of tendering you the homage of those sentiments of respectful attachment with which I am, Sir, your most obedient and most humble servant,
TH. JEFFERSON.
After some further correspondence with General Washington on the subject, Mr. Jefferson finally accepted the appointment of Secretary of State, though with what reluctance the reader can well judge from the preceding letter.
Before setting out for New York, the seat of government, Jefferson gave away in marriage his eldest daughter, Martha. The wedding took place at Monticello on the 23d of February (1790), and the fortunate bridegroom was young Thomas Mann Randolph, of Tuckahoe, the son of Colonel Thomas Mann Randolph, of Tuckahoe, who had been Colonel Peter Jefferson's ward. Young Randolph had visited Paris in 1788, and spent a portion of the summer there after the completion of his education at the University of Edinburgh, and we may suppose that the first love-passages which resulted in their marriage took place between the young people at that time. They were second-cousins, and had known each other from their earliest childhood.
The marriage ceremony was performed by the Rev. Mr. Maury of the Episcopal Church, and two people were rarely ever united in marriage whose future seemed to promise a happier life. I have elsewhere noticed the noble qualities both of head and heart which were possessed by Martha Jefferson. It was the growth and development of these which years afterwards made John Randolph, of Roanoke—though he had quarrelled with her father—pronounce her the "noblest woman in Virginia."[40] Thomas Mann Randolph was intellectually not less highly gifted. He was a constant student, and for his genius and acquirements ranked among the first students at the University of Edinburgh. In that city he received the same attentions and held the same position in society which his rank, his wealth, and his brilliant attainments commanded for him at home. The bravest of the brave, chivalric in his devotion to his friends and in his admiration and reverence for the gentler sex; tall and graceful in person, renowned in his day as an athlete and for his splendid horsemanship, with a head and face of unusual intellectual beauty, bearing a distinguished name, and possessing an ample fortune, any woman might have been deemed happy who was led by him to the hymeneal altar.
A few days after his daughter's marriage, Mr. Jefferson set out for New York, going by the way of Richmond. At Alexandria the Mayor and citizens gave him a public reception. He had intended travelling in his own carriage, which met him at that point, but a heavy fall of snow taking place, he sent it around by water, and took a seat in the stage, having his horses led. In consequence of the bad condition of the roads, his journey was a tedious one, it taking a fortnight for him to travel from Richmond to New York. He occasionally left the stage floundering in the mud, and, mounting one of his led horses, accomplished parts of his journey on horseback. On the 17th of March he arrived in Philadelphia, and hearing of the illness of his aged friend, Dr. Franklin, went at once to visit him, and in his Memoir speaks thus of his interview with him:
At Philadelphia I called on the venerable and beloved Franklin. He was then on the bed of sickness, from which he never rose. My recent return from a country in which he had left so many friends, and the perilous convulsions to which they had been exposed, revived all his anxieties to know what part they had taken, what had been their course, and what their fate. He went over all in succession with a rapidity and animation almost too much for his strength. When all his inquiries were satisfied and a pause took place, I told him I had learned with pleasure that, since his return to America, he had been occupied in preparing for the world the history of his own life. "I can not say much of that," said he; "but I will give you a sample of what I shall leave," and he directed his little grandson (William Bache), who was standing by the bedside, to hand him a paper from the table to which he pointed. He did so; and the Doctor, putting it into my hands, desired me to take it and read it at my leisure. It was about a quire of folio paper, written in a large and running hand, very like his own. I looked into it slightly, then shut it, and said I would accept his permission to read it, and would carefully return it. He said "No, keep it." Not certain of his meaning, I again looked into it, folded it for my pocket, and said again, I would certainly return it. "No," said he; "keep it." I put it into my pocket, and shortly after took leave of him.
He died on the 17th of the ensuing month of April; and as I understood he had bequeathed all his papers to his grandson, William Temple Franklin, I immediately wrote to Mr. Franklin, to inform him I possessed this paper, which I should consider as his property, and would deliver it to his order. He came on immediately to New York, called on me for it, and I delivered it to him. As he put it into his pocket, he said, carelessly, he had either the original, or another copy of it, I do not recollect which. This last expression struck my attention forcibly, and for the first time suggested to me the thought that Dr. Franklin had meant it as a confidential deposit in my hands, and that I had done wrong in parting from it.
I have not yet seen the collection of Dr. Franklin's works that he published, and therefore know not if this is among them. I have been told it is not. It contained a narrative of the negotiations between Dr. Franklin and the British Ministry, when he was endeavoring to prevent the contest of arms that followed. The negotiation was brought about by the intervention of Lord Howe and his sister, who, I believe, was called Lady Howe, but I may misremember her title.
Lord Howe seems to have been friendly to America, and exceedingly anxious to prevent a rupture. His intimacy with Dr. Franklin, and his position with the Ministry, induced him to undertake a mediation between them, in which his sister seems to have been associated. They carried from one to the other, backward and forward, the several propositions and answers which passed, and seconded with their own intercessions the importance of mutual sacrifices, to preserve the peace and connection of the two countries. I remember that Lord North's answers were dry, unyielding, in the spirit of unconditional submission, and betrayed an absolute indifference to the occurrence of a rupture; and he said to the mediators, distinctly, at last, that "a rebellion was not to be deprecated on the part of Great Britain; that the confiscations it would produce would provide for many of their friends." This expression was reported by the mediators to Dr. Franklin, and indicated so cool and calculated a purpose in the Ministry as to render compromise impossible, and the negotiation was discontinued.
If this is not among the papers published, we ask what has become of it? I delivered it with my own hands into those of Temple Franklin. It certainly established views so atrocious in the British Government, that its suppression would be to them worth a great price. But could the grandson of Dr. Franklin be in such a degree an accomplice in the parricide of the memory of his immortal grandfather? The suspension for more than twenty years of the general publication, bequeathed and confided to him, produced for a while hard suspicion against him; and if at last all are not published, a part of these suspicions may remain with some.
I arrived at New York on the 21st of March, where Congress was in session.
Jefferson's first letter from New York was to his son-in-law, Mr. Randolph, and is dated New York, March 28th. He gives him an account of the journey, which speaks much for the tedium of travelling in those days.