A Grand Entrance into History
In June 1775, as the American colonies simmered with revolutionary fervor, a young Virginian named Thomas Jefferson made his way to Philadelphia. His journey from Williamsburg was neither swift nor straightforward. Covering approximately 300 miles over ten days, Jefferson traveled in a lavishly decorated carriage drawn by four large horses, accompanied by three enslaved men: Jesse, Jupiter, and Richard. The route was poorly marked, winding through rugged backcountry that twice forced him to hire local guides to avoid getting lost. Delays in Fredericksburg and Annapolis allowed time for outfitting his entourage with proper attire, essential for maintaining the dignified appearance expected of a Virginia aristocrat. Jefferson, then the youngest delegate from Virginia to the Continental Congress, understood the importance of projecting an image of authority and refinement. Local Philadelphia newspapers had already taken note of him, describing him as a “proud and powerful man from the South” with a mixture of admiration and apprehension.
Jesse, mounted on horseback and brandishing a whip, led the procession. Richard rode inside the carriage with Jefferson, while Jupiter followed behind with the additional horses. Jupiter had been Jefferson’s personal attendant and companion since his student days at the College of William & Mary, a relationship that would endure for decades until Jupiter’s death in 1800. This carefully orchestrated arrival highlighted the paradox that would define Jefferson’s life: a slave-owning aristocrat who would soon author some of the most eloquent arguments for human liberty in world history.
The Enigma of Young Jefferson
Assessing Thomas Jefferson in 1776, as historian Dumas Malone later noted, is far simpler than evaluating him in subsequent years like 1793 or 1800. Our understanding of Jefferson’s early life is complicated by the scarcity of reliable sources. Much of his personal papers from before 1770 were destroyed in the Shadwell fire, leaving historians to piece together his youth from later recollections and often contradictory accounts. These memories, inevitably colored by the towering legacy of the Declaration of Independence, have been selectively reshaped to align with key moments in his political career.
Descriptions of Jefferson’s physical appearance vary widely. He stood about 6 feet 2 inches tall—an imposing figure for his time—with a lean, upright posture. Edmund Bacon, who managed Monticello during Jefferson’s presidency, recalled him as “clean and smooth-skinned,” though other accounts and portraits depict a man with ruddy, freckled skin. His eyes were alternately described as blue, hazel, or green, perhaps shifting in color under different lights. The only known likeness from his youth, a 1776 engraving by Pierre du Simitière, shows a round-faced man with a distant gaze, though its authenticity is disputed. In later years, Jefferson was often portrayed with a gaunt, intense expression.
Isaac, one of Jefferson’s enslaved laborers, emphasized his master’s erect bearing: “Mr. Jefferson was the tallest and straightest man you ever saw… no one in town walked so upright.” Bacon concurred, comparing his posture to a “gun barrel.” Yet political opponents mocked his occasional slouch, describing him as loose-limbed and unsteady. These contradictions may reflect Jefferson’s ability to shift between formal dignity and casual repose. When standing, he was broad-shouldered and ceremonious; when seated, he often collapsed into a chair, shoulders drooping, body folding like a clasp knife.
Two features consistently stood out: his hair and his voice. Jefferson had thick, reddish-blond hair that he wore loose and untidy, rarely bothering with wigs or elaborate styling. Even more distinctive was his constant singing. According to Isaac, “Whenever you saw him outdoors, he was sure to be singing.” Bacon confirmed that Jefferson hummed or sang tunes almost incessantly, whether walking, riding, or even reading.
Philadelphia in the Crucible of Revolution
When Jefferson arrived in Philadelphia in June 1775, the city was the largest and most cosmopolitan in the colonies, with a population of about 30,000. It served as the political and intellectual heart of the growing resistance against British rule. The First Continental Congress had convened there in 1774, and by the time Jefferson took his seat in the Second Continental Congress, tensions had escalated dramatically. The Battles of Lexington and Concord had already been fought in April 1775, and the Siege of Boston was underway.
Philadelphia’s streets buzzed with debate, pamphleteering, and secret meetings. Taverns like the City Tavern and coffeehouses such as the London Coffee House were hubs of political discussion. The city’s printing presses churned out revolutionary broadsides and newspapers, spreading ideas and information at an unprecedented pace. Into this environment stepped Jefferson—a well-read, intellectually curious planter from Virginia, determined to make his mark.
Forging a Political Identity
Jefferson’s early contributions to the Continental Congress were shaped by his legal training and Enlightenment philosophy. Though soft-spoken and reluctant to speak in public, he excelled as a writer and committee member. His pamphlet A Summary View of the Rights of British America, written in 1774, had already established him as a persuasive advocate for colonial self-government. In it, he argued that Parliament had no authority over the colonies and that the king was merely the “chief magistrate” of a voluntary compact.
By the spring of 1776, support for independence was growing. Thomas Paine’s incendiary pamphlet Common Sense, published in January, had galvanized public opinion. On June 7, Richard Henry Lee of Virginia introduced a resolution declaring that “these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states.” Congress appointed a committee to draft a formal declaration: John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, Robert Livingston, and Thomas Jefferson.
Jefferson was chosen to write the first draft due to his reputation as a elegant prose stylist. Over the next seventeen days, working in a rented room on Market Street, he produced one of the most influential documents in history. Drawing on Enlightenment thinkers like John Locke, George Mason’s Virginia Declaration of Rights, and his own deeply held beliefs, Jefferson articulated a vision of human equality and natural rights that would resonate far beyond the American colonies.
The Declaration and Its Discontents
The Declaration of Independence was both a philosophical statement and a political tool. Jefferson’s initial draft included a forceful condemnation of the slave trade, describing it as a “cruel war against human nature itself.” This passage was removed during debates in Congress, owing to objections from Southern delegates and Northern merchants involved in the trade. The excision highlighted the central contradiction of the American Revolution: a fight for liberty that preserved the institution of slavery.
Jefferson’s ownership of enslaved people, including the three men who accompanied him to Philadelphia, underscored this tension. Jupiter, Jesse, and Richard were living symbols of the system that Jefferson criticized yet relied upon. Their presence in Philadelphia—dressed in finery to enhance their master’s status—revealed the complex interplay between ideology and reality in the founding of the United States.
Cultural and Social reverberations
Jefferson’s time in Philadelphia coincided with a period of intense cultural and social change. The city was a melting pot of ideas, where Enlightenment principles clashed with traditional hierarchies. Salons hosted by women like Deborah Franklin and Elizabeth Grayson fostered intellectual exchange, while religious diversity—Quakers, Anglicans, Presbyterians, and others—encouraged toleration and debate.
The Declaration of Independence, once adopted on July 4, 1776, became a rallying cry for these broader transformations. Its assertion that “all men are created equal” challenged existing social structures, inspiring movements for abolition, women’s rights, and democratic reform. Yet these changes were incremental and uneven. For enslaved Africans and indigenous peoples, the Revolution often meant continued subjugation or displacement.
Jefferson’s personal habits reflected the era’s contradictions. He embraced scientific inquiry, collecting fossils and corresponding with European scholars, yet he also held pseudoscientific views about racial differences. He advocated for public education and religious freedom while maintaining a lifestyle dependent on enslaved labor.
Legacy and Modern Relevance
Thomas Jefferson’s legacy is as multifaceted as the man himself. He is celebrated as the author of the Declaration of Independence, a founding father who helped articulate the principles of democracy and human rights. Yet he is also criticized for his ownership of slaves, his relationship with Sally Hemings, and his policies toward Native Americans.
The year 1776 marked a turning point not only for Jefferson but for the world. The ideas he expressed in the Declaration have inspired countless movements for independence and equality, from the Haitian Revolution to the civil rights struggles of the twentieth century. Modern debates about American identity, freedom, and justice continue to engage with Jefferson’s words and actions.
In Philadelphia, where he arrived with such careful pomp in 1775, Jefferson began the work that would define his life. The city remains a symbol of that revolutionary moment, its cobblestone streets and historic buildings reminding us of the complex, often contradictory, origins of the United States. Jefferson’s journey from Virginia aristocrat to revolutionary leader encapsulates the tensions and possibilities of that era—a legacy that continues to challenge and inspire us today.
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