It was one of those pleasant Philadelphia days in early spring when the wind changes direction to a southwesterly and folks of every age and description, shut indoors over the cold and frosty winter months, venture forth to enjoy the awakening of nature. At noon on March 13 a horse and carriage party of family and friends was seen driving forth for a “wade into the country.” Two gentlemen, one tall and lean, with burnished copper hair and an alluring personality to match, the other substantially smaller, younger, shier, and dressed in black (as was his wont), formed part of the cheerful assembly. Best friends for many years, they had first met and formed a lasting bond when they were in public service together in their native Virginia. Now, after a hiatus of five years during which the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean had separated them, they were delighted to be in each other's company once again.

The year was 1791. The day was Sunday. The gentlemen riding in the light breeze under a fair midday sun were Thomas Jefferson and James Madison. The former served as secretary of state in the Washington administration, having two months prior returned from service as minister to the court of Louis XVI in Paris, France. The other had only ten days ago completed his first term in the House of Representatives of the United States under the new Constitution.