In an ironic twist, history has barely recorded the childhood episodes
that forged James Madison, the one man we should understand best in
order to better understand our nation and ourselves.
There is no early evidence or inkling that the young James Madison
will one day lead the effort to put the theory of self-government into
successful practice and author a Constitution that will become a beacon
light for the watching world. That great chronicler of the founding
of the United States didn't help much either, even in his later years,
as he wrote for posterity. He kept to himself his thoughts and feelings
about his youth.
We know the young Madison was a good student and lover of books, but
he does not appear to have dazzled his family or schoolmasters with
any special genius. Surely such observations would have been preserved.
Nor did his parents leave any evidence that they harbored extravagant
expectations of their first-born. As a young college graduate, even
Madison wrote that he didn't see much of a future for himself. That
woeful despondency over what he considered an unfulfilling choice of
pursuits might be our only telling clue that he was destined for greater
things.
And when he rose to the challenge of those greater things -the revolution
and its chaotic aftermath - he lifted himself out of obscurity and transformed
the colonies into a United States whose heritage is a continuation of
the self-government debate he started. The proper balance of national
versus state powers, for instance, and the reconciliation of majority
rule with minority rights, still preoccupy us. We struggle with issues
- slavery and its consequences - that the founders kicked under the
rug at the Constitutional Convention. We have problems that they could
not possibly foresee - like the great cyber revolution that enriches
our lives while simultaneously threatening to destroy our privacy. We
will stop struggling with these questions only when we have given up.
The founders did find solutions to some of these issues - enough to
set self-government moving for more than 200 years. So the question
is relevant: What is it about James Madison, our unlikely hero, that
prepares him to lead the great effort?
Born in 1751, Madison was the son of a planter, whose Mount Pleasant
(later Montpelier) estate in Orange County at the base of the Blue Ridge
Mountains consisted of 4,000 acres and nearly 100 slaves. From this
milieu of time, place, and social class, we can derive the broad contours
of Madison's young life. That is, he grows up amid a diverse Piedmont
culture that includes poor backwoods farmers, westward-looking frontiersmen,
African and African-American slaves, and planters, the latter of whom
tend to mimic English aristocracy and cultivate an Anglican faith. Madison's
family has connections with friends and kin across Virginia and has
ties to British merchants.
Politics, for those males eligible to participate, revolves around
county, colony and crown; hence, the Madisons think of themselves as
Orange County planters and Virginia colonists, but are equally proud
of their English heritage and the civil and legal rights to which it
entitles them. Beyond that, they have few ties - economically or socially
- to the 12 other individual colonies on the Atlantic seaboard.
James will inherit Montpelier with its beautiful vistas, its 4,000
rolling acres and 100 slaves. How does it effect him that 100 people
will be his slaves, subject to his every whim? George Mason, himself
a slave owner, will say, "Every master of slaves is born a petty
tyrant." We see little of this in the gentle and soft-spoken Madison.
Later he will say that slavery is evil, as will his good friend Thomas
Jefferson. Nonetheless, neither Madison nor Jefferson free their slaves,
not even in their wills. How do they reconcile the treatment of their
slaves with their lifelong devotion to the cause of self-government?
At times Jefferson's words reveal what must be racism. Madison, as in
all things, is more cautious with his words.
As befits a Virginia planter's son, it would be customary for James
to attend the colony's own College of William and Mary, but it is at
this juncture that Madison's individual destiny begins to emerge. In
1769 his family sends the 18-year-old James to the College of New Jersey
(later, Princeton). It's an arduous 300-mile journey, requiring three
major river crossings, but one that the scholastically inclined Madison
welcomes. Princeton draws many young scholars from throughout North
America, imparting to them a transcendent view of the colonies as a
whole greater than the sum of its 13 parts. The school, in fact, is
one of the few colonial colleges that inculcates patriotic feelings
for the disparate colonies, which are still a long, tumultuous 18 years
away from becoming the United States of America.
Nonetheless, it's only 7 years before the Declaration of Independence
and, as tensions between the colonies and England heat up, James is
surrounded by a heady mix of theorizing and radical-leaning politics.
The students study the great ancient and contemporary thinkers. They
discuss the basis of government and the justifications for revolution.
The more revolutionary among them - those advocating independence from
the Crown - dress in black and engage in a bit of street-theater by
burning an offending document.
In this politically charged environment, Madison sticks to a rigorous
study regimen and completes his Princeton education in just two years.
It's a feat, he writes years later, that required "an indiscreet
experiment of the minimum of sleep and the maximum of application. ...
The former was reduced for some weeks to less than five hours in the
twenty four."
Do we see any evidence that Madison will lead his country from discord
to union? Yes, he has become a scholar, recognized by his peers, who
applies his learning to the questions of the day. Someday this talent
will serve his country well. But in 1771, he is too diffident to speak
at his own graduation.
Madison graduates in two years and returns home to Montpelier in 1772
exhausted and depressed by the emotional letdown and isolation. He misses
the intellectual excitement of Princeton, as well as the occasional
prankish camaraderie of friends.
And he faces what he considers an unfulfilling future. According to
the dictates of his time and social class, his options are essentially
three: He can study law, enter the clergy or seek a military career.
He is too frail for soldiering, however, and finds the other two options
dreary. He also sees that his father needs no help from his first-born
to run Montpelier. Madison drops his customary reserve and pens a wildly
inaccurate forecast, in a letter to his Princeton friend William Bradford:
"As for myself, I am too dull and infirm now to look out for any
extraordinary things in this world, for I think my sensations for many
months past have intimated to me not to expect a long and healthy life.
..."
Adding to his depression is the religious intolerance clouding Virginia,
where the church and colonial government are united in censuring and
imprisoning dissenters from the reigning Anglican Church orthodoxy.
For James it's an oppressive contrast to his university experiences
in Princeton and nearby Philadelphia where open discussions about religion
were encouraged. He "yearn[s]," he writes to another friend,
"to breathe free air." Surely, this is a significant time
for Madison in honing and internalizing his theory that individuals
should be granted the right to worship freely.
As Madison mopes about his role in the world, extraordinary things
are occurring beyond Montpelier. In 1773, Colonists dressed as Mohawks
have dumped 342 chests of tea into Boston Harbor to protest unfair and
punitive taxation. In retaliation, the British shut down the harbor.
In 1774, the First Continental Congress meets to coordinate resistance
to the British. Throughout the colonies, local Committees of Safety
are seizing control of government, and militia are organizing.
The excitement of the times reaches Orange County, and the 23-year-old
Madison is elected to the Orange Committee of Safety along with his
father and other influential landowners. Young Madison embraces the
revolutionary cause and his despondency evaporates. He has found the
calling that will dominate his life.
In later life, Madison will champion freedom of speech and of the press.
He includes these freedoms in what will become the First Amendment.
Now, in the contagion of the revolutionary fever, he is eager to tar
and feather those who oppose the cause. Freedom of speech will have
to wait a while.
With the insurrection gaining momentum throughout the colonies after
militiamen defeat British regulars at the bridge in Concord and then
lay siege to Boston, Madison is elected, in April 1776, to the Virginia
Convention, a revolutionary assembly. Departing Orange, where he is
the well-regarded and eminent son of one of the county's leading families,
he arrives in Williamsburg to discover that he is just another member
of another aristocratic family of colonial Virginia planters and merchants.
Now among his peers, he must distinguish himself.
And George Mason provides the opportunity. The Virginia Convention
adopts Mason's Virginia Declaration of Rights. But the youthful Madison
strengthens the section on religious freedom. Mason's draft spoke of
"the fullest toleration in the exercise of religion," while
Madison's less ambiguous substitute provides "the free exercise
of religion, according to the dictates of conscience." Madison's
advocacy of the freedom of religion will be a constant theme of his
political career.
Finding politics to his liking, within a year of the Declaration of
Independence, Madison seeks election to the newly formed House of Delegates
in Virginia. Despite his taste for deliberative politics, however, Madison
fails to acknowledge his electorate's taste for fermented applejack.
He loses the election, he later claims, because his opponent provides
a keg of "spirituous liquors" on election day. It's the only
election Madison will ever lose.
Despite the election loss, Madison none-theless has been marked as
a tireless worker and thoughtful legislator. The House of Delegates
elects him to serve on the Virginia Council of State, and in 1780, sends
him to represent Virginia at the Continental Congress.
When he arrives, as Congress' youngest member, the excitement of the
American Revolution is gone and its great leaders have moved on, leaving
George Washington to fight a long, dreary war with little support. In
Madison's first year, the last state ratifies the Articles of Confederation,
and Madison finds himself serving in the Confederation Congress. He
will serve until 1784 when term limits force the end of his service,
and he returns to Virginia. The young man who was too diffident to speak
at his own graduation now routinely debates before the national body.
He speaks softly and always will, but others have learned to listen
carefully.
He goes home to Virginia and begins an ambitious reading program. Using
his own library, with the addition of books sent from Paris by Jefferson,
he learns all he can of the history, theory and weaknesses of confederacies,
ancient and modern. He seems to know that a great Constitutional debate
is coming. He will be ready to lead the creation of a new nation on
the North American continent.
Part III: The Constitutional Years
With their independence from England won, the 13 new American states
squabble and bicker, and their weak national government flounders. It
will take James Madison and his generation to engineer a new government
that balances states' rights with a combined national interest.
by James Madison Center Director Devin Bent with Randy Jones