as with a sunbeam

Two of Jefferson’s young grandchildren came tearing across the lawn, shouting to each other as they chased a hoop. Dolley smiled at them and remarked, “Jefferson does like to keep his house full, doesn’t he?”

Madison chuckled, finishing a big stretch before reaching out to offer her his arm. Together, they moved towards the entrance. The walls were decorated with Native artifacts of all kinds, shipped to Thomas by Louis and Clark during their expedition years earlier. Thomas had turned his front room into a kind of museum to entertain visitors to his mountain retreat.

“Hail the conquering heroes,” Patsy Randolph greeted, sweeping from the main parlor towards them with a gracious smile. “Welcome to Monticello, Mr. President. Mrs. Madison.”

“Oh, stop you. We’ve had quite enough of that nonsense,” Dolley said, stepping forward to give Patsy a kiss. “Lovely to see you, my dear.”

“Is the great man in?” Madison asked.

Patsy laughed. “Father’s back in his office, still packing his books to ship to Washington. He says he's still organizing and indexing everything. In all honesty, I think he finished ages ago and he’s just saying his goodbyes now, though he won’t admit it.”

“I’m surprised he was willing to part with such a large portion of his library. Grateful, of course, but surprised.” After the Library of Congress had been burned during the British occupation of Washington, Jefferson had generously offered his own collection as a replacement. Congress had jumped at the offer.

“I was floored,” Patsy agreed. “I thought he’d part with me and the grandchildren before ever parting with his books.”

“Nonsense,” Madison said, though when he locked eyes with Patsy, they both grinned with mutual understanding.

“You can go right on back,” Patsy invited. “May I offer you some tea, Mrs. Madison?”

Madison took the first door on the right to cut through the family parlor and made his way into Thomas’s private office. Crates upon crates had turned the space into something of a maze. He pushed forward in the general direction of Jefferson’s desk and called, “Thomas?”

“Just in here,” Thomas’s voice called back.

Navigating through a narrow path in the boxes, he found an opening to where Thomas’s silvery-auburn hair was catching the sunlight from the windows. Thomas’s hand was stroking the spines of a stack of books near his desk; Madison had to force down a smile at the sight. When he managed to take the seat across from Thomas’s desk, Thomas asked, “I’m glad to see you finally escaped from Washington. Was it as exuberant as it sounded?”

“News of peace brought quite an explosion of joy from the populous,” Madison agreed.

Madison would never forget that blessed day.

Hamilton had been seated in his office, pouring over the latest dispatches about their victory in New Orleans along with Burr’s efforts to rally the people around a Canadian advance. New Orleans had greatly whetted the general appetite to attack the British on all fronts, relegating discussions about the report from the Hartford Convention to a mere secondary news item.

Edward Coles had opened the door to the office with wide, hopeful eyes. “Mr. Monroe and Mr. Carroll to see you, sir.”

Hamilton shifted up in his chair, spine straight with expectation. The same hope had begun to swell in his violet eyes. “Henry Carroll?”

Madison had nodded once, deliberately, his breath caught in his chest.

“Should I go?” Hamilton offered.

“No,” Madison said. “You, out of everyone in this country, deserve to hear this first.”

The large chest landed on his wooden desk with a decisive thunk. Coles did the honor of unlocking it and pulling out the cover letter from Henry Clay.

“There are omissions,” Monroe had cautioned. “Significant omissions that will raise more than a few eyebrows in Congress.”

“Eyebrows, perhaps, but not voices,” Hamilton had said. A smile brightened his features, the worry that had burdened his brow lifting as he considered what he’d heard. “You can defend this, Jemmy. This will pass the Senate.”

“I agree,” he’d said. “I agree most emphatically.”

Peace.

Good Lord, peace at last.

The news had traveled through the city like wildfire, popping the thick tension that had laid over every citizen like a needle to an overfilled balloon. Fireworks erupted into the night, music threaded through the air, and champagne poured freely in every house along the street.

“I expected nothing less,” Thomas said, smiling as he brought Madison back from his wandering thoughts. “Congratulations, Jemmy. You must be overjoyed to have completed your trials. Are you already preparing the way for your successor?”

“I’ve a bit more time left on my term, as you well know,” Madison said with a sigh. “But hopefully the most eventful occurrences are now behind us.”

“Hear, hear,” Thomas concurred. “Efforts are underway to unwind that beastly standing army, I hope?”

“Yes, indeed,” Madison agreed, though a tinge of sadness accompanied the thought.

Hamilton had been his rock, his steadying presence as the worst of the war unfolded. Having to shake his hand to bid him farewell had been unexpectedly emotional for him.

Hamilton had gripped his hand firmly, and remarked slyly, “I doubt this is the last you’ll see of me. At last count, I had fifteen different inquiries on my desk requesting advice regarding a Second National Bank.”

“That sounds more of a threat than a reassurance,” Madison had countered.

“Take it as you will,” Hamilton had shrugged, mischief brightening his eyes. With more sincerity, he’d added, “You’re always welcome at the Grange, Jemmy.”

Thomas was nodding in approval at the news that their army was being dismantled. “An unnecessary and dangerous force, to be sure. New Orleans proved that an assembly of volunteers can easily defeat an army when put to the task of defending their homes.”

Madison frowned. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

Thomas’s brow furrowed in return. “No?”

“New Orleans was a lucky circumstance, where Jackson could choose his battle ground. The entrenchment assured the men could be well protected while reloading their firearms, while the British were forced to fight on open land. Not every battle is so ideally situated.” Bladensburg still loomed in his memory; the smell of smoke, the screaming wrenching the air, the terror as that snake of red loomed ever closer.

Thomas gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “No matter. The need has passed, in any event. Although, the three-headed serpent will still need watching.”

Madison’s head cocked to the side, a moment passing before he understood Thomas’s meaning: Hamilton, Burr, and Jackson, the three military heroes to emerge from the conflict. “They are quite popular.”

“Jackson was a great apologist for Burr back in ’07,” Thomas noted. “Will loyalty keep him in second place, do you think? Or will he battle Burr for the honor?”

“I couldn’t say,” Madison said, pondering.

“I suppose the great unanswered question is, what will Hamilton do?”

“Surely, he would intervene if Burr took up the notion of public office again,” Madison said. Then again, he’d seen the two men together recently. Hamilton seemed easier with Burr, a camaraderie existing between them Madison never would have expected. And Burr had looked at Hamilton differently, a sort of gratitude and…loyalty suffusing his gaze.

Monroe had designs on the highest office, of course. His efforts to see the Treaty of Ghent through were meant to push him above the military exploits of the others who might try for the seat. But Hamilton’s position remained strong. Hamilton had been the country’s bedrock as much as Madison’s when it came to military matters, a steadying presence who had defended the capital with his very life. Hamilton had stayed in the city, had tried his best to repel the attack. Just as he’d assured Madison from his hospital bed later, people remembered that they’d tried, even where they’d failed.

Would Hamilton…no. Madison took a breath. He’d said more than once that he had no interest in returning to politics. But that gleam of mischief in his eyes…and his feeling towards Monroe were hardly a secret….

Madison met Thomas’s eyes across the desk.