Dolley Madison

Good day. I am Dolly Madison, first lady, hostess of a fledgling republic, and on one fateful day, the woman who refused to let our young nation soul go up in flames. In the spring of 1794, Aaron Burr, ever the schemer, introduced me to a quiet little Virginian named James Madison. Within months, we were married. I brought laughter to his drawing room, and he brought me to the heart of the American experiment. I opened the White House to the world. From generals to foreign dignitaries, I helped raise funds for the Lewis and Clark expedition because I believed discovery was part of our destiny. And when the British marched into our beloved Washington in 1814, I did not flee. I stayed as long as I could, directing the rescue of Gilbert Stuart's portrait of General Washington, ordering it pried from its frame and carried to safety before fire reached the house. That painting stood for all we had fought for, and I would not see it put to the torch. They called me the nation's hostess. After two terms, my dear James and I went home to Montpelier. And later, after he died, I returned to Washington, where the city still remembered me. But time is not always kind. My son drank away our fortune. I sold our estate. Congress bought James papers, but it was barely enough. I died in near poverty, yet with my head held high, because I had lived to see the nation endure. I was not born to lead, but I helped this country keep itself soul.