like what you were told. When the deconstruction and restoration of Montpelier got underway, a careful examination of the foundation of the home revealed serious cracks and water damage that threatened to weaken the overall structure of the mansion. It was decided that, first off, the foundation needed waterproof sealant applied to the entire exterior of the foundation. The restoration team dug that sunken walkway around the circumference of the house so that the foundation could be correctly sealed. Once the moisture problem had been solved, the ground was graded up to the foundation just as it had been during Mr. Madison's time. The Montpelier Foundation accepts the facts of Virginia's plantation life, and we would never have tried to conceal an original architectural feature of this home. I hope this helps you," she gently concluded.
It certainly had. How wrong, how eagerly wrong I had been—both to assume that Madison had wanted to hide his slaves from view and, next, to believe that such a careful and painstaking restoration of a site could be complicit with a cover-up of a historical truth. I thanked Ms. White and went to find Carol who had already exited the house. After I told her the information that Ms. White had just given me, I realized that I would have some important phone calls to make when I returned home, particularly to colleagues to whom I had told the infamous story of Montpelier's vanishing sunken walkway.
And I had also learned an important lesson about anecdotal information conveyed by docents. Check the facts before repeating a tale.
In some ways, like Mr. Madison, I had experienced a profound “change of mind" regarding what I had believed to be true. But also like Madison, my error had been “nothing more" than that, only a misunderstanding. The truth had never been affected by what I had been willing to believe. And now that I had experienced a “change of mind," I understood the reality of the situation. I wondered if Mr. Madison, too, as he had experienced “nothing more than a change of mind," had reached a similar revelatory understanding, only, in his case, of the much grander matter of the nature of life itself.
James Monroe: "...getting things done."
Every once in a while, my natural inclination to be chatty has stood me in good stead. This was certainly the case in March of 2012 when I first called Ash Lawn-Highland for advice about Carol's and my upcoming visit there. My chief concern had been whether or not we could fit in a meaningful tour of both Thomas Jefferson's Poplar Forest and James Monroe's Ash Lawn-Highland estates in a single day. My computer research had suggested to me that it would be possible, but I wanted the plan to be confirmed by someone “on the ground," as it were.
The telephone at Ash Lawn-Highland was answered by a woman with a pleasant voice who was happy to tell me that, because of Ash Lawn-Highland's late closing hour (6 pm at the season when we had scheduled our trip), this double site plan would be completely workable. She even reconfirmed the routing to Charlottesville from Poplar Forest that I had found online. I was most relieved by her assurances and thanked her for taking the time to give me this help. But before I hung up, I felt impelled to mention my book project to her.
“The last time I visited Ash Lawn-Highland, I hadn't begun to write yet, so returning this time will be an important step in my overall project. Nevertheless I remember that earlier visit with great fondness because of a book I purchased in your store."
“Really?" she responded. “Which book?"
“It was entitled The Religion of the Founders, and it helped me teach my A.P. American Literature and U.S History classes every year I taught thereafter, right up to my retirement. Its descriptions and definition of Deism constituted the clearest presentation of that difficult subject I had ever encountered. The author was David L. Holmes."
There was a very long pause, followed by a subdued chuckle. “Well," the lady continued, “my husband will be delighted that you liked his book so much. I'm Carolyn Holmes. It's safe to say you have made both his and my day, today." Then, very graciously, she continued, “Tell me a little more about the book you are writing. I imagine David would like to hear about it."
For the next ten minutes or so, I outlined to her the ideas behind Calling on the Presidents, and she indicated to me that she believed she would be on site at the time Carol and I would be visiting. “Ask for me when you get here," she urged me. “It would be a pleasure to meet you and your wife in person."
I put down the receiver and told Carol about my call. What a pleasant woman, I thought, and how generous she was with her time and advice. Carolyn Holmes, I would later learn, was the Executive Director of Ash Lawn-Highland, and she wanted to meet Carol and me!
On the appointed day, Carol and I arrived, just as Mrs. Holmes had said we would, around three o'clock, in plenty of time for an afternoon tour. Upon entering the Visitor's Center, I asked for her and was told to proceed toward the lower level of the home where the executive offices were located. Here we were greeted by Carolyn Holmes who invited us into her office. She was very complimentary of the manuscript of my book that we had brought for her perusal, and then we settled down for a brief chat. Knowing my interests, she wasn't surprised by my first question.
“What are the qualities of President Monroe that you most admire?"
She thought for several moments before responding. “I know you're interested in the house and what it reveals about the President who lived here," she began, “but the first thing that comes to my mind is his favorite name for Ash Lawn-Highland. President Monroe called it his 'cabin castle,' and I love that. It's unpretentious—in touch with reality—as he always was, and it's a perfect description of the plantation: small but elegant, modest but beautiful."
I was scribbling quickly as she next spoke about Monroe's various travels, so vital to our nation's history. Then she told of how Ash Lawn-Highland had had to be sold after Monroe's presidential years because of debts he had incurred in Europe while acting as an ambassador of the United States, debts for which he had never been fully reimbursed by the government. Finally there was a very long pause.
"You know," she observed thoughtfully, "as I think about it now, I believe that the quality I most admire in President Monroe is that he was so good at getting things done."
Indeed he was. In fact, it would be quite easy to make a case for Monroe as the most successful “getter of things done" in presidential history. To make that case more lucidly, however, I will turn to a contemporary, John Quincy Adams, who, in his inauguration speech of 1825, summed up the achievements of his immediate predecessor in office:
… in his [Monroe's] career of eight years the internal taxes have been repealed; sixty millions of the public debt have been discharged; provision has been made for the comfort and relief of the aged and indigent among the survivors of the Revolution; the regular armed force has been reduced and its constitution revised and perfected; the accountability for the expenditure of public monies has been made more effective; the Floridas have been peaceably acquired, and our boundary has been extended to the Pacific Ocean; the independence of the southern nations of this hemisphere has been recognized, and recommended by example and by counsel to the potentates of Europe; progress has been made in the defense of the country by fortifications and the increase of the Navy, toward the effectual suppression of the African traffic in slaves; in alluring the aboriginal hunters of our land to the cultivation of the soil and of the mind, in exploring the interior regions of the Union, and in preparing by scientific researches and surveys for the further application of our national resources to the internal improvement of our country.
This is a very long list. Let's review quickly the accomplishments of the Monroe administration that Adams notes here. 1) Taxes
