Madison and Jefferson Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Nancy Isenberg
was the great-grandson of the same Taylor, by his first wife.
And so the “son of nobody” became a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses in 1752. It was an association of men united by their strong family and social networks—and not inconsequentially, by their common indebtedness to British merchants—who tended to get on well with one another and with royal appointees as well. Pendleton remained in that body up to its dissolution at the time of the Revolution and expressed opposition to the imposition of taxes even before outspoken younger patriots such as Patrick Henry did. As much a lover of liberty as any of the more memorable founders, Pendleton was no firebrand, no troublemaker. Rather, he was a detail man, cautious, deliberative. Elected as a delegate to the First Continental Congress in 1774, he was joined by George Washington, Patrick Henry, and four others. To take the phrase “cooler heads prevailed” and apply it to Virginia on the eve of the Revolution, his was that cooler head.
The worst one could say of Pendleton he said of himself: that he was a substandard writer. But he had an encyclopedic knowledge of the law and was an easy man for a younger political aspirant to approach. In his 1821 autobiography, Jefferson recalled Pendleton in glowing terms: “one of the most virtuous & benevolent of men, the kindest friend.” Both in the GeneralCourt and in the House of Burgesses, he had symbolized competency for the young lawyer from Albemarle. He was, Jefferson acknowledged, “the ablest man in debate I ever met with.” Madison too completely trusted in his integrity. 6
Ordinarily, revolutions are long in brewing. Not so America’s. Though joint operations of British regulars and colonial American fighters had brought victory in the French and Indian War, the decade 1765–75 proved the undoing of their transatlantic bond. Britain had debts after the war, and Americans were told they had to pay their fair share. No American sat in any governing body in Britain, yet Parliament claimed it could tax the colonies without their consent. The colonists did not like being dictated to from across the sea. They especially resented the loss of local autonomy.
The Stamp Act of 1765 was the opening salvo and provoked everything from angry taunts to street theater. All paper documents across the colonies (newspapers, pamphlets, contracts, and licenses) were to be imprinted with a special stamp, which had to be paid for in hard currency. As a new member of Virginia’s House of Burgesses, Patrick Henry introduced a series of resolutions, among which was one insisting that people could be taxed only by their elected representatives. Northern newspapers carried the Virginia Resolves, and Henry acquired a wide reputation. The crisis over taxation was everybody’s problem, not a single colony’s.
Although the hated Stamp Act was repealed in 1766, Parliament did not retreat. It passed the Declaratory Act, defending its power to impose laws on the colonies “in all cases whatsoever.” New taxes followed, including one on tea, the Americans’ favorite drink. The drama enlarged in December 1773, as a band of protesters appeared at Boston Harbor dressed in “the Indian manner” and, in defiance of the tax on tea, boarded ships and dumped 342 chests into the deep. The Boston Tea Party has long stood as a symbol of American determination, but at the time even the most uncompromising Virginia patriots thought this form of resistance unwarranted. All awaited Parliament’s response. When it came, it was unexpectedly severe.
The Coercive Acts shut down Boston Harbor and curtailed Massachusetts self-government. The Quartering Act placed soldiers in Bostonians’ homes. The Quebec Act lowered the Canadian border to the Ohio River and threatened the western land interests of the colonies south of New England, including Virginia. The king, his ministers, and a majority in Parliament all believed that aggressive
And so the “son of nobody” became a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses in 1752. It was an association of men united by their strong family and social networks—and not inconsequentially, by their common indebtedness to British merchants—who tended to get on well with one another and with royal appointees as well. Pendleton remained in that body up to its dissolution at the time of the Revolution and expressed opposition to the imposition of taxes even before outspoken younger patriots such as Patrick Henry did. As much a lover of liberty as any of the more memorable founders, Pendleton was no firebrand, no troublemaker. Rather, he was a detail man, cautious, deliberative. Elected as a delegate to the First Continental Congress in 1774, he was joined by George Washington, Patrick Henry, and four others. To take the phrase “cooler heads prevailed” and apply it to Virginia on the eve of the Revolution, his was that cooler head.
The worst one could say of Pendleton he said of himself: that he was a substandard writer. But he had an encyclopedic knowledge of the law and was an easy man for a younger political aspirant to approach. In his 1821 autobiography, Jefferson recalled Pendleton in glowing terms: “one of the most virtuous & benevolent of men, the kindest friend.” Both in the GeneralCourt and in the House of Burgesses, he had symbolized competency for the young lawyer from Albemarle. He was, Jefferson acknowledged, “the ablest man in debate I ever met with.” Madison too completely trusted in his integrity. 6
Ordinarily, revolutions are long in brewing. Not so America’s. Though joint operations of British regulars and colonial American fighters had brought victory in the French and Indian War, the decade 1765–75 proved the undoing of their transatlantic bond. Britain had debts after the war, and Americans were told they had to pay their fair share. No American sat in any governing body in Britain, yet Parliament claimed it could tax the colonies without their consent. The colonists did not like being dictated to from across the sea. They especially resented the loss of local autonomy.
The Stamp Act of 1765 was the opening salvo and provoked everything from angry taunts to street theater. All paper documents across the colonies (newspapers, pamphlets, contracts, and licenses) were to be imprinted with a special stamp, which had to be paid for in hard currency. As a new member of Virginia’s House of Burgesses, Patrick Henry introduced a series of resolutions, among which was one insisting that people could be taxed only by their elected representatives. Northern newspapers carried the Virginia Resolves, and Henry acquired a wide reputation. The crisis over taxation was everybody’s problem, not a single colony’s.
Although the hated Stamp Act was repealed in 1766, Parliament did not retreat. It passed the Declaratory Act, defending its power to impose laws on the colonies “in all cases whatsoever.” New taxes followed, including one on tea, the Americans’ favorite drink. The drama enlarged in December 1773, as a band of protesters appeared at Boston Harbor dressed in “the Indian manner” and, in defiance of the tax on tea, boarded ships and dumped 342 chests into the deep. The Boston Tea Party has long stood as a symbol of American determination, but at the time even the most uncompromising Virginia patriots thought this form of resistance unwarranted. All awaited Parliament’s response. When it came, it was unexpectedly severe.
The Coercive Acts shut down Boston Harbor and curtailed Massachusetts self-government. The Quartering Act placed soldiers in Bostonians’ homes. The Quebec Act lowered the Canadian border to the Ohio River and threatened the western land interests of the colonies south of New England, including Virginia. The king, his ministers, and a majority in Parliament all believed that aggressive