November 28, 2016

Dear Abigail,

Alas! It is done! How much do I so rejoice at our success! We have secured our dignity and cutlery both! I have placed our precious silverware and draperies safely away, and so too the portraits of Mr. Washington and our dear husbands.

What a gift was it to us and our nation that I still had the House parlor keys? I cannot count the times of asking Mr. Madison to tidy the junk drawer of the chiffonier, but now my husband’s idleness appears like a benevolent miracle of Providence.

Did America think, Abigail, that we would permit our home to be embossed in gaudy gold? It is a matter of principle and accent colors! My dear Blue Room with task lamps and mohair throws is a specter I pray never to see. And what horror might she have committed with the velvet draperies had we not rescued them?

We may dismiss concern over simple adornments when tranquility resumes its reign. But in times of stress, these accouterments bring us comfort, do they not? They are the fabrics and fashions that swaddle us, and I weep when I see them so frayed with irreverence. If we permit their fraying may it not too mean the same of our sad republic?

I am so sad, as you are. But my quilted linens and waistcoats are dearer now to me than they ever were when worn in the service of our country. I rejoice at what we have spared and placed wisely behind lock and code. Whether they ever fall again into the hands of our enemies, events must determine.

Adieu for now. When I shall again write to you, or where I shall be tomorrow I cannot tell!

Dolley Madison  

P.S. You do remember the password don’t you? I fear I do not. It was between 18-24 characters, and two of the characters were special. Oh, Abigail, pray remember!