We have again from Jefferson's pen a charming picture of the domestic character of Carr, in a letter to his friend John Page, written in 1770:
He (Carr) speaks, thinks, and dreams of nothing but his young son. This friend of ours, Page, in a very small house, with a table, half a dozen chairs, and one or two servants, is the happiest man in the universe. Every incident in life he so takes as to render it a source of pleasure. With as much benevolence as the heart of man will hold, but with an utter neglect of the costly apparatus of life, he exhibits to the world a new phenomenon in life—the Samian sage in the tub of the cynic.
The death of this highly-gifted young Virginian, whose early life was so full of promise, took place on the 16th of May, 1773, in the thirtieth year of his age. His wife, a woman of vigorous understanding and earnest warmth of heart, was passionately devoted to him, and his death fell like a blight on her young life. She found in her brother a loving protector for herself and a fatherly affection and guidance for her six children—three sons and three daughters—who were received into his family as his adopted children. Among Jefferson's papers there was found, after his death, the following, written on a sheet of note-paper:
INSCRIPTION ON MY FRIEND D. CARR'S TOMB.
Lamented shade, whom every gift of heaven
Profusely blest; a temper winning mild;
Nor pity softer, nor was truth more bright.
Constant in doing well, he neither sought
Nor shunned applause. No bashful merit sighed
Near him neglected: sympathizing he
Wiped off the tear from Sorrow's clouded eye
With kindly hand, and taught her heart to smile.
Mallet's Excursion.
Send for a plate of copper to be nailed on the tree at the foot of his grave, with this inscription:
Still shall thy grave with rising flowers be dressed
And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast;
There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow,
There the first roses of the year shall blow,
While angels with their silver wings o'ershade
The ground now sacred by thy reliques made.
On the upper part of the stone inscribe as follows:
Here lie the remains of
Dabney Carr,
Son of John and Jane Carr, of Louisa County,
Who was born——, 1744.
Intermarried with Martha Jefferson, daughter of Peter
and Jane Jefferson, 1765;
And died at Charlottesville, May 16, 1773,
Leaving six small children.
To his Virtue, Good Sense, Learning, and Friendship
this stone is dedicated by Thomas Jefferson, who, of all men living,
loved him most.
CHAPTER III.
Happy Life at Monticello.—Jefferson's fine Horsemanship.—Birth of his oldest Child.—Goes to Congress.—Death of his Mother.—Kindness to British Prisoners.—Their Gratitude.—His Devotion to Music.—Letter to General De Riedesel.—Is made Governor of Virginia.—Tarleton pursues Lafayette.—Reaches Charlottesville.—The British at Monticello.—Cornwallis's Destruction of Property at Elk Hill.—Jefferson retires at the End of his Second Term as Governor.—Mrs. Jefferson's delicate Health.—Jefferson meets with an Accident.—Writes his Notes on Virginia.—The Marquis De Chastellux visits Monticello.—His Description of it.—Letter of Congratulation from Jefferson to Washington.—Mrs. Jefferson's Illness and Death.—Her Daughter's Description of the Scene.—Jefferson's Grief.
Following the course which I have laid down for myself, I shall give but a passing notice of the political events of Jefferson's life, and only dwell on such incidents as may throw out in bold relief the beauties and charms of his domestic character. Except when called from home by duties imposed upon him by his country, the even tenor of his happy life at Monticello remained unbroken. He prosecuted his studies with that same ardent thirst for knowledge which he had evinced when a young student in Williamsburg, mastering every subject that he took up.
Much time and expense were devoted by him to ornamenting and improving his house and grounds. A great lover of nature, he found his favorite recreations in out-of-door enjoyments, and it was his habit to the day of his death, no matter what his occupation, nor what office he held, to spend the hours between one and three in the afternoon on horseback. Noted for his bold and graceful horsemanship, he kept as riding-horses only those of the best blood of the old Virginia stock. In the days of his youth he was very exacting of his groom in having his horses always beautifully kept; and it is said that it was his habit, when his riding-horse was brought up for him to mount, to brush his white cambric handkerchief across the animal's shoulders and send it back to the stable if any dust was left on the handkerchief.
The garden-book lying before me shows the interest which he took in all gardening and farming operations. This book, in which he began to make entries as early as the year 1766, and which he continued to keep all through life, except when from home, has every thing jotted down in it, from the date of the earliest peach-blossom to the day when his wheat was ready for the sickle. His personal, household, and farm accounts were kept with the precision of the most rigid accountant, and he was a rare instance of a man of enlarged views and wide range of thought, being fond of details. The price of his horses, the fee paid to a ferryman, his little gifts to servants, his charities—whether great or small—from the penny dropped into the church-box to the handsome donation given for the erection of a church—all found a place in his account-book.
In 1772 his eldest child, Martha, was born; his second daughter, Jane Randolph, died in the fall of 1775, when eighteen months old. He was most unfortunate in his children—out of six that he had, only two, Martha and Mary, surviving the period of infancy.
In the year 1775 Jefferson went to Philadelphia as a member of the first Congress.[11] In the year 1776 he made the following entry in his little pocket account-book: "March 31. My mother died about eight o'clock this morning, in the 57th year of her age." Thus she did not live to see the great day with whose glory her son's name is indissolubly connected.[12]
The British prisoners who were surrendered by Burgoyne at the battle of Saratoga were sent to Virginia and quartered in Albemarle, a few miles from Monticello. They had not, however, been settled there many months, before the Governor (Patrick Henry) was urged to have them moved to some other part of the country, on the plea that the provisions consumed by them were more necessary for our own forces. The Governor and Council were on the eve of issuing the order for their removal, when an earnest entreaty addressed to them by Jefferson put a stop to all proceedings on the subject. In this address and petition he says, in speaking of the prisoners,
Their health is also of importance. I would not endeavor to show that their lives are valuable to us, because it would suppose a possibility that humanity was kicked out of doors in America, and interest