1. Hugh Blair Grigsby (1806–81) attended Yale College and practiced law for a time in his native Norfolk, Virginia, until his deafness forced his retirement from the bar. He was owner and editor of the Norfolk American Beacon. Grigsby served in the Virginia House of Delegates, 1828–30, and as a member of the Constitutional Convention of 1829–30. After his marriage to Mary Venable Carrington, he retired to her family estate, Edgehill, in Charlotte County, Virginia, where he devoted himself to historical and biographical writing, including The Virginia Convention of 1776 (1855) and the two-volume History of the Virginia Federal Convention of 1788 (1890–91).

Grigsby later recalled his visit to Madison’s home: “A pilgrimage to Montpellier was one of the most delightful offices of the young men of the land. The visitor was introduced into the parlour around the walls of which were hung the portraits of Washington, Jefferson, and other compatriots of the venerable statesman. If Mr. Madison happened to be on horseback on the plantation, Mrs. Madison soon appeared, and engaged the youthful stranger in conversation, who became so fascinated with her manners and speech, that he felt already rewarded for the trouble of his long ride to Montpellier. Presently Mr. Madison arrives, and, with his hat and whip in his hand, enters the parlour with a rapid and vigorous step, and greets his guest with a heartiness that might be expected from a relative, but hardly from so old and so distinguished a statesman. He immediately inquires about the friend who wrote the introductory letter of his guest, and enters into local talk as familiarly as an ordinary man would do. If the subject was the character of his associates in the old Congress, he might allude to Roger Sherman, and might tell how, when Sherman became excited in debate, he would use a gesture with both hands as if he were intent on stitching a piece of leather held between his knees. But all was said in kindness and in a lofty appreciation of the excellence of others. In conversation not a drop of venom ever fell from his pure lips. As I entered the parlour I observed a book with its face downwards on the centre table, left as if the reader had been called away for the moment. I lifted it with reverence. It was Wheaton’s life of William Pinkney, which had appeared the year before; and it was open at pages 436, 437; and Mr. Madison may have been reading the letter of Pinkney to himself, or his own letter to Pinkney. None left the house without uttering a fervent blessing upon its head, and upon that accomplished woman who imparted lustre to all the high stations to which her husband was called, and who lived to see that venerable head laid low in the grave. As Mr. Madison died (June 28, 1836) without children, the property passed into the hands of those who do not inherit his name or blood. I have not been on the spot since. It will ever be the resort of the lovers of the fair fame of the Old Dominion, who will bend with reverence at the grave of one of the purest men recorded in human history. Virginia was fortunate in producing such a son; she was also fortunate in producing a son worthy to record his fame” (“Notes for the Diary of the Rev. Robert Rose. c. 1868,” CSmH: R. A. Brock Collection, 32–33).