Jefferson and the Ordeal of Liberty

This book was a little more fun than the others in the series so far. I haven't come to really understand (or even like) Jefferson all that much to this point in his life but I know the last half of this series will cover Jefferson at his worst, most vicious, and unprincipled (in my opinion). For that reason, this book is fascinating in charting “the turn”: here we get the last little bit Jefferson's principled “innocence” and his slow turn into a partisan fighter.

This book covers his last year as Secretary of State, his three year respite at Monticello, and his single term as Vice-President into the Election of 1800. That's an interesting transition from cabinet member to head of the country. Once he stepped down as Secretary of State, he expressed no interest in a future in politics. And yet, what's most fascinating is seeing how that interest was birthed–or rather, revealed both to others and himself. It's hard to read his words and thoughts denying any interest in party politics and reconcile it with his actions–all while he genuinely seemed to believe what he was saying.

This volume, more than any others, show us Jefferson the Self-Deluded–the one who lies to himself fully and totally, under the guise of principles and intellect. Things that appear so conniving and disingenuous to us on the outside get interpreted by Jefferson himself as entirely consistent with who he has been all along, or at least as wise flexibility to the circumstances around him.

That gives this volume almost a sense of gothic horror: a tale of a man willingly taken somewhere he thought he never wanted to be, so naturally and easily turned into a man he claimed was not within his character to be. It's a lesson to us all in how we can so easily become what we hate, all while feeling “from the inside”, as it were, that we are people of nobility, pragmatism, and integrity. Every villain is the hero of their own story.

What gives this an added dimension is that Dumas doesn't see Jefferson that way at all. He continues his tendency to act as Jefferson apologist, going at lengths to explain Jefferson's turns, though at least he recognizes that Jefferson is being inconsistent for the sake of convenience–he just waves it away as the pragmatism of leadership, attentiveness to the moment, and not letting his past dictate his future.

It is shocking how highly and nobly Jefferson views himself, even while sowing the seeds of destruction, chaos, and partisan warfare that are in our politics even today. Always with an eye towards his own legacy and portrayal by history, always pretending to be transcendently above the fray, Thomas Jefferson is revealed in this volume to be one of the most manipulative actors in American history, all while being blind to it within himself.

(On a personal note, I imagine this is how some people view me. That fact makes this volume even more impactful and humbling.)

Another highlight of this volume compared to the others is during Jefferson's Monticello sabbatical between political projects. These relatively quiet few years will be the last for him and us in the narrative of his life before his final years back on the “Little Mountain”. And so Dumas wisely and entertainingly takes this period to do deep dives into the interesting subjects around Jefferson's life. Whole chapters are dedicated to 18th-century architecture, farming, daily life, economics, and yes, slavery (in which we get our first defense from Dumas against the Sally Hemings charges). Each of these vignettes paint an in-depth portrait of those topics which could be whole articles are books in-and-of-themselves. They are certainly a highlight of this volume.

Nevertheless, politics does return to the narrative, with the Alien and Sedition Acts being the platform on which Jefferson can be “reluctantly dragged” back into partisan battle, becoming the Republican mafia godfather in the background, slowly laying a groundwork for his eventual Presidency.

Stylistically, the book maintains the same mid-century “just the facts, ma'am” tone. Dumas' account of the Election of 1800 doesn't have the excitement that other writers lend to this strange period in American history, nor does he meditate on the symbolic significance of the moment, but it is a fun and fast-moving (and still somewhat confusing) series of months. And the whole issue with the Jefferson-Burr tie is told with none of the intrigue or subterfuge that historians usually give to this time. It makes the whole thing seem less dramatic which, while that may be true to reality, can feel like a letdown.

The campaign was vicious and, of course, Dumas lays the blame elsewhere for the egregious attacks on John Adams, thought the two men had been long-time friends and Jefferson could have brought the carnage to an end. But ambition cloaked as principle is a nasty thing. But by the end of this book, we see this feature of Jefferson in full blossom, even if not at its worst quite yet. But here we see the beginnings, and Dumas gives us a more-than-competent and detailed account of how Jefferson got there.