Miss Conolly has my head spinning with her take on Dolley Madison. Maybe being the life of the party was not so pleasant after all! Her fictional letter from Dolley to her mother was an assignment for her IEW class; she surely prefers fiction to non-fiction writing.
Dolley Madison, 1804, by Gilbert Stuart |
Dolley
Madison
First
Lady
Executive
Mansion
1817
Dear
Mother,
I
am exhausted, completely exhausted. All this partying, which has
gotten to my nerves, is very tiring. I am constantly entertaining all
the diplomats that come to see James, and need a break. Of course,
Lady Elwin was visiting from England with her husband, so a huge ball
was held in their honor. As usual, I was expected to attend. I must
admit something about the Elwin's to you, Mother. It is so annoying
to be a president's wife, with all the nagging responsibilities that
come with being a “leader of society”. Sometimes, as I sit in the
huge parlor waiting for callers to arrive, I wonder what my life
would be like if James had stayed a simple small town lawyer. (And,
Mother, do not think I am calling James a simpleton. He is one of the
smartest people I know.) Mother, this town life, which is absolutely
horrible for me, is never anything but parties! Only an extroverted
person could call this city home. It as grown as distasteful to me as
that hateful liquid that is considered “coffee” by the people
that live here!
Mother,
I must admit something. Sometimes I wish there was no such person as
Lady Elwin. Ever since she arrived in Washington, there have been no
parties at all, except those that were balls. It has become as dull
as possible to hold parties, even though every girl in town has sore
feet from all that dancing. I believe some of my acquaintances have
become hypochondriacs for the duration of Lady Elwin's visit. You
would think she was a Comtessa, or at least a duchess. All the lakes
have frozen over, but you barely ever see those of the better class
who used to come out and skate. They are all busy dancing at one ball
or another. Apparently Lady Elwin likes only balls, and I assume they
are treating that obvious fact the way all the ladies who pride
themselves on being fashionable treat the latest fashions from
France. I don't mind being well dressed, Mother, but there is a time
when you have been to and held so many revels that you can't stand
them. I am afraid I am at that point. I have had Lady and Lord Elwin
over for dinner only once, I am afraid. We ate in the state dining
room, but nothing festive was done. As it appears Lord Elwin does not
like parties very much, it really is too bad for him that he decided
to marry Elinda. That is Lady Elwin's name, I am afraid to say.
Anyway, I suppose what I wanted to tell you was this: The senators
and representatives actually did something together for once! Or
rather, their wives did, as all of the Mrs. Senators and Mrs.
Representatives got together to transform the Capitol building into a
festive ballroom, with the room used for the House of Representatives
as a banquet hall. Do you know that they did all that work just for
Lady Elwin? Apparently one of the lowest forms of English aristocracy
is highly celebrated here in America. Some of the ladies in my sewing
circle even want to turn American democracy into American monarchy. I
am afraid, Mother, that I must admit to not liking Lady Elinda Elwin
very much, mostly because of the negative influence I feel she has
worked over the city of Washington.
Lately,
Mother, I have been thinking about my life as a president's wife,
which I sometimes find extremely tedious. However, living in the
Executive Mansion certainly keeps me on my unspeakably sore toes.
(Did I tell you that I was made to attend yet another ball?) Living
here, while it is quite nice to have someone doing the cooking, means
constant work. My morning is spent confirming the menu for dinner,
making sure the public spaces are clean for the many visitors who
tour the downstairs every afternoon, and leading the sewing circle
that I established. In the afternoon I sit in my parlor embroidering
and waiting for callers or paying calls. Then I retire to dress for
tea, always a complete wonder full of croissants and cucumber
sandwiches, and pay any formal calls or occasionally go to a friend's
house for ice cream and cookies. Of course, after tea I generally
spend my time helping James or reading a book. I wish less diplomats
came to dinner, as I always have extra work to do, mainly supervising
the domestic staff, when James and I are obliged to entertain foreign
ambassadors. Though many of my friends believe that it is a wonderful
thing to have the life of a first lady, I have no idea where they
formulate their opinions, as I have decided I have no use at all for
having this social obligation that has been thrust upon me.
On
nights where I am having a frightfully hard time trying to go to
sleep, I sometimes get to thinking about what life would be like if
James had chosen to remain a nobody with only a small law practice.
Life, which is now horribly busy, would still be peaceful and calm,
and James would come home early each day instead of sitting up all
night puzzling out a country-sized bucket of problems. Mother,
sometimes I want to be back living in that small log cabin that was
and will be our home. I yearn for the simplicity of the simple
country life we led, James in his office and I in my kitchen. I think
even James was not prepared for all this important “cityness”
that Washington spreads. He may have thought big, but James never
reckoned on something this big. After his term is up, I think James
will be perfectly happy to go back to our small little country
village. He isn't and won't be a nobody anymore, and James likes
that. While we may be well-known, when we return to our cabin, I will
be so awfully glad. Actually, I would be quite happy if James had
never ran for president, a very tiring job, and we had lived all this
time in our cabin and had not been compelled to lead so public a
life.
Mother,
do not ever come to this city. Washington is dreadfully busy, which I
believe you would find annoying, and the coffee brewed here is as
weak as a child's watered-down tea! I wish James had never ran for
president, as I detest this whole experience of living in Washington,
a very dirty place. For some reason people seem to think that
Washington is a wonderful and idealistic place, Mother, even though
most of this place is swampland. There are many things I must confess
to you, Mother, chiefly my complaints of the people and the culture.
Being a first lady in this crazy city is so very trying, I sometimes
feel like screaming, so seethingly swampy and surely scatterbrained
is this place. Mother, this place, as nice as it sounds, completely
exhausts me!
Love
from your exhausted daughter,
Dolley