Researchers at the National Archives recently made a startling discovery, uncovering a portion of a document that appears to discuss event planning for America’s 25th Anniversary.
Editor’s Note: This historical document recently surfaced in a routine check of National Archives files marked “Behind the Scenes at the American Revolution.” Needless to say, this might change the way we think about the Early National Period in American history. We hasten to concede, however, that the authenticity of this document has not been independently verified.
There were four participants in the conversation that follows: Thomas Jefferson, the third president of the United States; James Madison, Jefferson’s closest friend and secretary of state; Aaron Burr, Mr. Jefferson’s vice president until 1805. And the irrepressible Alexander Hamilton, formerly the secretary of the treasury. Unfortunately, all we have is a fragment of what must have been a very interesting conversation.
Finally, as a historical note: eye gouging contests were common on the near-western frontier, often leading to the actual plucking out of the opponent’s eye(s), and gander pulling was also an actual early 19th-century rural sport. You should know, too, that Alexander Hamilton had an adulterous affair with a woman named Maria Reynolds during his time as secretary of the treasury, and it became a national scandal and source of much satire. Maria and her husband actually set up the susceptible Hamilton for a blackmail scheme that nearly ended his public career. Hamilton’s susceptibility to dueling led to his death in July 1804 on the west bank of the Hudson River.
JEFFERSON: Gentlemen. As you know, the 25th anniversary of American Independence is coming in a few months. We need to host an event on the White House lawn to commemorate this important moment in the history of human liberty. I wonder if you have any suggestions about what sort of thoughtful and dignified event we could host?
MADISON: I was thinking about a lovely reception with French wines and your celebrated Baked Alaska recipe. You could read the Declaration or maybe just the preamble. And we could wheel out what’s left of the World’s Largest Cheese that was made for you a couple of years ago by the republican farmers of the Cheshire Hills of Massachusetts. If we cut away all the mold, the thing would still weigh more than 700 pounds.
AARON BURR: Geeze, Jemmy, why don’t you just give everyone a sleeping potion and a copy of the Complete Works of John Adams? We don’t want a snooze-fest, Mr. President. You know that cheese was disgusting even when it was fresh. Wine? Do you think wine is the preferred drink of the American people? Fill a few horse watering troughs with applejack and hand out some “I Bought Louisiana Territory” mugs and you’ll get yourself a proper celebration.
JEFFERSON: Sir, I have never been intoxicated in the whole course of my life.
BURR: It shows, Tom. Don’t you know your Shakespeare, your Twelfth Night: “Does thou think because thou art virtuous there will be no more cakes and ale?”
JEFFERSON: I saw a French operatic version of Twelfth Night at the Palais Royale in Paris in 1785. It was exquisite. My head and my heart were both gratified. The temperature at showtime was 73 degrees Fahrenheit. I checked and noted it in my weather log. I hear you, Mr. Burr, but what if the wine we offered was Château d’Yquem 1743? Nobody can resist that.
BURR: With all due respect, Mr. Jefferson, I don’t think you understand the genius of the American people. They do not all live in Palladian villas and sip wine in four-ounce glasses.
JEFFERSON: Perhaps you are right, Mr. Burr. I realize that I may be slightly out of touch with average Americans. There are so few of them up on my mountain in Virginia. What do you think would be more in keeping with the cultural moment we are in?
BURR: I was thinking an eye-gouging match.
JEFFERSON: Eye gouging?
MADISON: Maybe a chess exhibition in which you, blindfolded, simultaneously play against 13 challengers, one for each of the original 13 states.
BURR: Wow. That guy will never be president.
JEFFERSON: I played against Dr. Franklin once or twice in the Philadelphia years. The best I did was end one game with a draw.
BURR: Have you ever seen a good eye-gouging match, Mr. President? It’s one of the favorite pastimes on the western frontier. The rules are stricter now. Each contestant has to sign a one-eye limit. Man, I once saw a grudge match between the Tennessee Tumbler and the Cincinnati Cyclops on Blennerhassett Island on the Ohio River. You don’t want to be squeamish if you attend a good one. They say Andrew Jackson might become world champion one day. Besides, an eye-gouging exhibition would be easy to stage. Remember, your secretary of education is the former CEO of the AFEG?
JEFFERSON: AFEG? Sounds like a heart disease to me.
BURR: No, AFEG, the American Federation of Eye Gouging. It’s banned only in Rhode Island.
JEFFERSON: That’s Rhode Island. Wouldn’t sign the Constitution. How did the AFEG CEO become a U.S. cabinet member? That sounds like a really poor choice for a job as important as education.
MADISON: Surely, Vice President Burr, you can think of something less violent and bloody for this august occasion. We are commemorating one of the most important moments in the history of human aspiration at the White House. It will tell our own citizens and the rest of the world who we are and what we value.
BURR: Believe me, the people prefer human perspiration to human aspiration, Jim Bob. But OK, if you are going to be prissy about it, how about a good old gander pulling contest?
JEFFERSON: I’m not sure what that is?
BURR: Boy, you are out of touch. It’s the fastest growing sport in Tennessee and Kentucky. There is a rumor that George Rogers Clark was so drunk that he fell off his horse at last year’s finals.
JEFFERSON: I guess we should have reimbursed George Rogers Clark for his heroic actions in the Great Lakes country during the Revolution. Not much I can do at this point, but I’m planning to throw a bone to his kid brother Bill Clark one of these days. Maybe a quest up the Missouri River?
BURR: So this is how the gander pull is done: you build a scaffold and dangle a dead goose by its legs just about out of reach for a man on a horse. Except in Mississippi, the goose is dead, of course, because we wouldn’t want to do anything inhumane. Then they lard up the neck and head of the goose with whale oil. Contestants line up, and one after another they gallop towards the goose, try to grab it with their right hand, and tear its head and neck off. Oh, my, it’s hilarious to watch. Most of the bystanders bet on it. (That kind of betting can lead to eye gouging, by the way.) Most people on a full gallop can’t even grab the neck. And even those who do get a grip on it have a very hard time holding on long enough to wrench the head off. It’s much harder than you think. Imagine being pulled off your horse in front of your peers by an oiled goose!
JEFFERSON: Interesting. Loathe though I am to thwart the will of the people, Mr. Vice President, I am going to veto this one. How about something less barbaric?
BURR: Okay! Here’s a perfect idea. What about a mock-duel? You know, dueling pistols loaded with blanks. No live ammo. The combatants at 20 paces. I think the former Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton might come all the way from New York to participate. He’s been involved in 10 affairs of honor already, and he’s only in his early 40s.
MADISON: I was thinking about dueling harpsichords, and maybe Dolley could organize a peacock feather hat style show.
JEFFERSON: Colonel Burr, tell me more about the dueling, I mean mock-dueling. I’m intrigued. Do you think Alexander Hamilton would really be willing to be a part of this? He hates me, you know, called me an intellectual voluptuary.
BURR: Wow, what an insult. That must have left a mark! Hamilton’s sense of honor is so prickly that he once challenged the moon to a duel for rising and interrupting one of his trysts in the garden of the Treasury Department. He tried in the 90s to goad your man Monroe into a duel. If ever a man had a hair trigger, it’s Hammy.
JEFFERSON: Hamilton is still dueling? I thought he had gained some maturity in recent years, now that he’s retired from government and back in private practice in New York.
BURR: I’m sorry to say you’re right. His dueling has been way down lately. I think he had only three affairs of honor last year. Mrs. Reynolds has taken some of the starch out of him — or has she starched him up all the way to the bank! Ha ha ha. Am I right? You guys need to listen to me. We can do a full mock-duel re-enactment on the White House lawn. We’ll call it Take Your Shot. I’ll be happy to square off with Hamilton … in a playful manner, of course. I can supply the pistols and bullets, too.
JEFFERSON Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. You are in danger of forgetting what this celebration is about. What America is about. We broke from England. We dedicated our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor to the cause of liberty. We are the first people ever to try to govern ourselves using only reason, justice, and good sense as our guides. If our republican experiment succeeds, and of course it will, humanity will come to regard July 4, 1776, as the climacteric in human history, when man finally threw off the chains of servitude and misery and took his rightful place in the course of human events. Our revolution was not born in ruffianry, my friends, but from the works of Plutarch and Tacitus, Montesquieu and Voltaire. We Americans are attempting to vindicate human possibility, rationality, due process, the rights of man, and above all the idea that this is a nation of laws and not men. We don’t have kings here. No Kings. My hope is that every subsequent president understands — surely they will — that the whole world is watching to see whether we — and thus they — are up to it. The rest of humanity must be inspired by our high-mindedness, our studied decorum, our commitment to grammar and good sense, the modesty of our foreign policy, our modest neoclassical taste in architecture and interior design, our love of peace, our distaste for war, our civility, and the civic virtue of our leaders. There is no room for blood sports on the lawn of the White House!
Suddenly the door swings open violently, and Mr. Jefferson’s lovely speech is interrupted. In rushes Alexander Hamilton, looking breathless, buttoning up his breeches.
HAMILTON: Did I hear right? There’s gonna be a duel? Tell me there’s gonna be a duel! Count me in. Who will be our seconds? Who will referee?
MADISON: If men were angels, no referees would be necessary. What is dueling but the greatest of all reflections on human nature?
HAMILTON: Enough jibber jabber. Whoa, you’re tedious Mr. Madison. But who will dare to face off against me in this mock-duel? Oh, how I wish my friend George Washington were here to see this.
JEFFERSON: OK, heeere we go! Washington, Washington, Washington. We’ve heard it all a thousand times, Colonel Hamilton.
BURR: I’m your huckleberry, Colonel Hamilton.
MADISON: Maybe the cheese afterward. And some Bach.
Editor’s Note: Unfortunately, at this point the document trails off. The bottom of the page has been torn away. We are unsure of what sort of commemorative event was held on the White House lawn to celebrate America’s birth. Perhaps a disciplined search of the files at the Library of Congress might turn up the lost pages. We feel sure Mr. Jefferson prevailed, as always. And that the event was dignified.