Jean Fritz - The Great Little Madison

Table of Contents

James Madison was a small, pale, sickly boy with a weak voice. If he tried to shout, the shout shriveled up in his throat, but of course he was still young. His voice might grow as he did. Or he might never need a big voice.

So far he got along fine on his fathers Virginia plantation where nothing much changed but the weather and the seasons and the coming of babies. There would be twelve babies in the Madison family before they quit coming. (Five died young.) James, or Jemmy, as his father called him, was the oldest and if he was like his father and his grandfather before him, hed spend his life on this land, bounded in the west by the lovely blue line of mountains that seemed to mark the end of the world. In 1760 when nine-year-old James helped his father move the furniture from their old house to the new brick one that looked square at the mountains, James understood that this house and the 5000 acres that went with it would one day belong to him. James loved this place. Particularly the trees. The grove of walnuts where he played with his brothers and sisters and the black children who belonged to the plantation. The two tulip trees that were so much alike, they were called The Twins. And his favoritethe redbuds that turned themselves into pink froth every springtime.

Still, he knew there was more to the world than his fathers 5000 acres, more than was contained in his own Orange County or in Virginia itself. At nine he was reading, and although he had always asked questions of his own (Where do the redbirds fly in winter?), he was discovering in his fathers library questions he would never have thought of asking. His father had eighty-five books and by the time he was eleven, James had read them all. They had titles like The Duty of Man, The Employment of the Microscope. There was one on cold bathing; one on childrens diseases. He may have been especially interested in the diseases for he was sick a great deal. All his life he suffered from fever, bilious attacks (liver upsets), and from occasional seizures in which for a few moments he would stiffen and lose control of his mind. A doctor diagnosed this as a form of epilepsy caused by nerves, but James simply called it a falling sickness. In any case, sickness didnt often keep him from reading. Nothing ever would.

But here he was, eleven years old and there was not another book in the house to read. So Mr. Madison sent him off to a school in a neighboring county where he had all the books he wanted. He learned French so he could read books that were written in French and he learned Latin and Greek so he could find out what men thought hundreds of years ago. He studied geometry and algebra and the history of other nations, and to show just how much bigger his notion of the world had become, he drew a picture of the universe in his copybook. All the planets were there and the sun, a big round circle in the center. Then in order to give his universe a more friendly look, he gave the sun a faceeyes, nose, and a mouth that was almost ready to smile. Best of all, however, was his teacher, Mr. Robertson, who raised all kinds of questions (Were there people on those planets?) and made his pupils use logic and reason when they spoke. He couldnt make James speak any louder, but he did make sure that when he did speak, he had something to say.

James stayed at Mr. Robertsons school until he was sixteen and would like to have stayed longer, but his father called him home. A new minister (Mr. Martin) was living with them now, and he could teach James along with the oldest of his brothers and sisters. At the same time he would prepare James to enter college. The College of New Jersey (Princeton) was the place Mr. Madison and Mr. Martin picked. Most young men in Virginia attended the nearby College of William and Mary, but that wouldnt do for James. Too much drinking and partying at that school. Besides, the climate was not healthy.

In the summer of 1769 when James was eighteen years old, he set out on horseback for New Jersey, accompanied by Mr. Martin. He didnt look old enough to be going to college, although actually he was older than most. His face still had that young, unset, waiting look. And he was little. At five feet six, he was not excessively short, but because he was thin with a slight build and narrow shoulders, people were forever remarking on his littleness. His voice was still little too. Moreover, he was shy. Only when he knew a person well did he speak of what was going on inside him.

He did know Mr. Martin, so he would not have been afraid to show his excitement, particularly when they reached Philadelphia. He had known, of course, that Philadelphia was the biggest city in the country, but how could he have guessed that the bigness, the busyness, the importance of the city would give it such a throb of life? This was obviously where things were happening; this is where life was running at full tilt.

In its own way the college at Princeton was also exciting. People were asking questions that struck at the very core of life. What is government? What is man? Because James was ahead of the freshman class in his studies, he entered as a sophomore and perhaps this was the happiest year of his college life. He made close friends, devoured books as if he couldnt get enough of them, and joined in student fun putting greasy feathers on the floor where fellow students would slip on them, setting off firecrackers in newcomers rooms, and eyeing girls through telescopes.

And for the first time James felt caught up in affairs that were affecting the whole country. Over the last five years he had been concerned, as everyone was, about Great Britains aggravating policy of slapping down taxes on the colonies. But at Princeton he felt that he was reacting as part of an aroused body, as if he and his friends were the colonies. They approved of the fact that American merchants in protest over taxation had stopped buying goods from England, but in 1770 when the merchants of New York wrote to the merchants of Pennsylvania, suggesting that they break this agreement, the students were enraged. James Madison was one of many who marched onto the campus, cheering as a copy of that New York letter was thrown into a bonfire. The college bells tolled throughout the demonstration as if they were grieving for the liberty of the country. Flushed with patriotism, James cheered as loud as he could. His cheer may not have amounted to much, but his whole heart was in it.