Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1892-03-12

ported by great white columns, its extern
sive grounds, its stretch of lawn. both
back and front, its unique garden. its fertile
fields, Its enhancing outlook, unite to assert
Its claim to pre-eminence among the historic
homes of the country. But its record, in many
respects, is sad one, and it has had its ups
and downs in the passage of years.
DURING THE LIFS OF MR.. MADISON
the honse and place were kept up as are the
'homes OF merrie England" Serv ants in
Vulnerable polished the floors. FURNISHED the
furniture, rubbed the brasses, piled high the
blazing hres, moved the lawn weeded the turf
and cultivated the garden, which. with its ar
DORIS Mowers, fruits shrubs, vegetables and
sweet-smeiiing herbs, was the delight Of the
eyes and palate of all who visited Montpelier.
DISTINGUISHED GUESTS
Here gathered beautiful women and distiu-
guished men. From Monticello would ride Mr..
Jefferson while the lesser lights of the day
came from far and near in response to the gen.
erous hospitality CHARACTERISTIC of Virginia life
at tnat period to discuss the interests of the
country and to pay homage to the lovely
women invited to meet them by the charming
hostess. the gracious Mistress Dolly, for with
all her failings the fair Mrs Madison could be
very gracious and very charming. When pre-
siding over the long table in the stately dining
Aooii sodStb WeTc uTunk TO her charms, the
sparkle of her wit supplemented the sparkle of
the champagne, while the fascination of her
manners cast spell over all who came within
her reach. Merry times those we're at Mont
peher, according to the traditions of the neigh
borhood. But all this came to An end when
death claimed the master of the house.
AN UNDUrIFUL AND sPENDrHRrFr SON.
Left to Mrs Madison Montpelier soon be-
trayed the neglect and abuse to which it was
Immediately subjected. Mother by a previous
marriage OF worthless son. she sacrificed
everything to him and his career was the most
degraded, brutal and INSCRIPTIONS it is posi-
BILE to imagine. That there should be no
visitors except such low com panions as pal dered
to his vices, 1t is said, he kept ferocious dogs
which were trained to attack all persons who
might venture upon the premises. To meet
bis gambling debts, multiplied indefinitely. now
he was no longer controlled by the presence.
influence or fear Of his stepfather, to satisfy
his parasites, to crafty his own depraved
tastes, to supply himself with drink. he sold
the servants, apparently taking especial pains
to separate families, delighting In the misery
30 lnnlcted and gloating over the indignation
Of the protesting neighborhood.
THE VALUABLE LIBRARY SCATTERED
Mr.. Madison's choice library was also sacri-
feed and carted away for the purpose either of
sale or destruction. 1t is impossible to decide
which Of these motives induced the sacrifice.
for valuable books lay for years heaped upon
the floors of a vacant house, uncared for, un-
protected, In many instances exposed to the
rain that came in through broken pane and
ruined roof. Soon followed the mortgage of
the place and finally its sale. Thus ousted from
her stately home Mrs. Madison established her
self in Washington and for a few years kept up
a certain kind of style upon the money re-
ceived for Montpelier. But her worthless son
quickly dissipated that, and absolute poverty
came very close to his indulgent mother.
AID FROM CONGRESS.
As last resource the remnants o, the scat
tered library were collected and an appeal
made to Congress for help. That body under
the influence Of sympathy for the widow and
respect for the memory of Mr.. Madison, ap-
propriated $4,000 for the purchase of this
wreck a a once splendid library. This drop in
the bucket was promptly s9uandered, and
again Congress was importuned for assistance
and again came to the rescue by granting Mrs.
Madison small pension, and the woman who
had been the wife Of President, the mistress
OF Montpelier, the owner of thousands of acres
of.lands and hundreds of servants was forced
to live upon the pittance granted by a nations
charity. Even in her poverty she attempted Ia
grande dame and dressed in the faded grandeur
OF her prosperous days, her gowns in the
fashion OF the past and wearing an immense
urban, held receptions in her shabby rooms.
still making herself very charming to those
who found their way thither. As the wears
slipped by those who remembered her became
fewer and fewer, until at length while vet alive
she became thing of the past At last death
came for her, too.
HER LONELY FUNERAL.
The rain WAS pouring in torrents one dark
autumn afternoon, the mountains which in
fair weather are seen from the Montpelier
portico stretching seventy miles along the
horizon were not to be seen by the keenest
rvh hAa Ia d.
when from the front windows of the great
house there was espied afar off, creeping slowly
along the winding road of approach, forlorn.
dingy, mud-bespattered old hearse. driven by
an equally fOrlorn old negro and dragged by a
correspondingly dilapidated old horse Fol-
lowing was one horseman, the son Of Mr..
Madison's favorite niece, his huge cloak drip
ping with rain, his soaked felt hat drawn low
over his eyes. Such was the cortege that was
bearing to the grave the remains Of the once
brilliant and courted wife OF the fourth Presi-
dent Of the United States
THEN AND NOW.
Slowly through the splashing mud came the
saddest of sad funerals through the gate that
bad 80 often opened for the passage of Mrs
Madson's coach-and-four; over the gravel road
that had echoed the footsteps Of her horses;
past the portico where the beautiful woman
bad stood to welcome the coming and speed
the parting guest; past the portal through
Wnlcn sne was wont 70 enter ner grand home;
past the windows Of the many rooms where she
used to hold her court and receive the homage
OF her many admirers past the great trees
beneath whose wide-spreading branches tea
would be served her and her guests by the will
ing hands of liveried servants delighted to wait
upon their charming mistress; past the garden,
laid out to please her as were the Hanging Gar
dsns for Queen Semiramis, which had been 30
often graced by her presence, upon whose
paths her little high-heeled slippers had left
their many marks, and under whose ar bors she
had rested amid the sweet fragrance of the
Carolina jasmine; past the stables where her
numerous pleasure horses had been sheltered;
past the quarters the once merry homes OF her
many servitors; past the vast fields that had
yielded their wealth for her spending. On, on,
to the little family graveyard where lay the
remains OF the husband whose greatness she
had shared and whose subsistence she had
allowed to be squandered. Thus to the grave
was borne all that was left Of one Of the most
noted and 6attered women Of her day.
THE FAMILY GRAVEYARD.
The tiny cemetery was quite filed BY the
graves of the dead Madison relatives, and that
her grave should b next her husbands por-
ton Of the rough stone wall had been removed
and the receptacle for her coffin dug partly in
the open field and partly within the line Of in
closure; even such privilege - this was granted
by the courtesy Of the then owner Of Mont
pelier, - the graveyard had been sold with the