Scenes in my Native Land/Montpelier
MONTPELIER.
THE SEAT OF THE LATE JAMES MADISON, PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.
How fair, beneath Virginia's sky,
Montpelier strikes the traveller's eye,
Emerging from its forest-bower,
Like feudal chieftain's ancient tower,
With parks and lawns and gardens drest,
In peaceful verdure proudly blest.
What blended beauties cheer the sight!
The distant mountain's misty height,
The nearer prospect's cultured face,
The sylvan temple's attic grace,
The locust copse, where warblers throng,
And gaily pour the unfettered song,
The flowers in bright profusion seen,
The luscious fig's luxuriant green,
The clasping vine, whose clusters fair,
Seem as of genial France the care,
The bright-eyed pheasant, beauteous guest,
The eastern bird with gorgeous vest,
Still for his mimic speech carest,
The curtaining jessamine, that showers
Rich fragrance o'er the nightly bowers,
Those halls, whose varied stores impart
The classic pencil's magic art,
The chisel's life-bestowing power,
The lore that cheats the studious hour,
And music's strains, that vainly vie
With the touched spirit's melody;
How strong the tissued spells that bind
The admiring eye and grateful mind.
Here Wisdom rests in sylvan shade,
That erst an empire's council's swayed.
And Goodness, whose persuasive art
So justly won that empire's heart,
And Piety, with hoary hair,
Which rising o'er this Eden fair,
Beholds, by mortal foot untrod,
A brighter Eden with its God.
Montpelier! these thy name have set
A gem in memory's coronet,
Whose lustre ruthless time shall spare
Till from her brow that crown he tear,
Till from her book that page he rend,
Which of a stranger made a friend.
Our visit to the "Ancient Dominion," though many years since, has left pleasant traces, over which time has had no effacing power; for it was made at that sunny period of life, when hope and joy tinge every object with their radiant dies. The impressions made by Virginian hospitality were truly delightful. We found, with surprise, how immediately the painful reserve of strangers vanished before the charm of southern manners, and could not but wish that the intercourse between the distant sections of our country were more frequent and fraternal.
Montpelier had much in itself, and its adjuncts, to interest and repay the pilgrim to its shades. Yet from the fine pictures and extensive library he would find himself involuntarily turning to their distinguished Master, who, though in feeble health and somewhat advanced in years, attracted every one by the powers of his conversation, and the profound wisdom of his remarks. Courteous, and unassuming in his manners, he imparted, as it were, spontaneously, the treasures of a mind peculiarly rich in historic lore, and upright and luminous in its conclusions.
Under his roof, the object of unspeakable tenderness and respect, was his mother, who had then completed her ninetieth year. She had paid great attention to the early culture and formation of his mind, and had herself taught him to read, using as his first book of instruction the Holy Scriptures. She was a lady of true excellence and dignity of character, and was solaced to the latest hour of life by his devoted filial affection.
The Lady of President Madison, none could visit without grateful recollections. The kindness of her welcome would not be forgotten, nor that goodness of heart which breathed a magic influence upon all around. She was encircled in her elegant retirement with objects congenial to her taste,—the charms of cultivated nature, and the music of birds. Some of the most rare species of her winged friends she cherished in an aviary, and among those who ranged at will was a favorite Macaw, of shrewd character, and singularly splendid train and plumage. Blossoms and flowering trees sprang up beneath these sunny skies in luxuriance and profusion. The Pride of China expanded its delicate foliage beside the window, the Jessamine climbed up to the sleeping apartments, diffusing its rich perfume, and the Multiflora on every side cheered the eye with its countless clusters.
When called from this fair retreat by the election of her husband to the Chief Magistracy of the Nation, her queenly manners, and perfect affability, won admiration at every levee where she presided. During the eight years of his continuance in office, she filled the station of the highest lady in the land, to the satisfaction of all, and by her true kindness of heart, conciliated good will and lasting remembrance. "She never forgot," says one of her biographers, "a name she had once heard, nor a face she had once seen, nor the personal circumstances connected with every individual of her acquaintance."
When, after her widowhood, she was induced by the solicitation of her relatives and friends to leave her loved seclusion at Montpelier, and revisit the Capital, "her saloon," said a distinguished statesman, "was as constantly thronged by Wit, Genius, and Learning, by all that was noble of American, or distinguished of Foreign Society, as when, in the presidential mansion; she had been the idol and lady-patron."
She still continues in her advanced age, both at her Virginian retirement and her winter residence at Washington, to conciliate respect and affection by the enduring charm of unaffected goodness.