A Conversation with Jefferson and Madison at Chimney Point Tavern, VT
Dan Blanchard (DB): Gentlemen, welcome back to Chimney Point. The last time you were here, this was a bustling tavern. Today, it’s a museum preserving all that history. What’s it like seeing it in this new form?
Thomas Jefferson (TJ): Remarkable, sir. In my day, I recall the tavern’s hearth blazing, the air thick with smoke, and the sound of tankards clanking. To see it now as a museum — quiet, reverent, and dedicated to memory — is most curious. The chimneys remain, but instead of warmth, they seem to give off reflection.
James Madison (JM): Indeed, Mr. Jefferson. We came here once to refresh ourselves on the road, and now it appears we have become the exhibits! I confess, I feel somewhat relieved that visitors gaze upon the building and not our table manners.
DB: (laughs) That’s true. Now, the history of this place stretches back thousands of years, with Native peoples, the French, the British, and the Americans all leaving their mark. When you two visited, what drew you here?
TJ: Communication, sir. This tavern was a hub — a place where men of commerce, politics, and travel gathered. One could learn much in such a setting, for news traveled more swiftly by word of mouth than by post.
JM: I agree. Taverns such as this one served as crossroads of thought as much as of roads. Ideas, like travelers, must have resting places where they may be exchanged freely. And here at Chimney Point, those exchanges often determined the course of action for many.
DB: That’s a great point. One of the leadership lessons I take from this site is how important it is to create hubs of communication and collaboration. Do you think that principle still applies today?
TJ: Most assuredly. The strength of a republic lies in its citizens’ ability to converse, to dispute, and to collaborate toward the common good. Whether it be in a tavern by Lake Champlain or upon these curious “internets” I hear of, communication remains the lifeblood of liberty.
JM: Collaboration is no less vital. Our Constitution itself was born of compromise at a table not unlike this. Leaders err when they think themselves sufficient alone. At Chimney Point, one was reminded that company and conversation were indispensable companions.
DB: Well said. Now, gentlemen, if you could step outside, you’d see a bridge over Lake Champlain. The original was dedicated in 1929 with Franklin Delano Roosevelt present, and today’s version connects Vermont and New York. What do you make of that?
TJ: A bridge across the waters? Splendid! In my day, crossing such a body required patience, good weather, and a sturdy boat. A bridge symbolizes progress — uniting communities as surely as conversation unites minds.
JM: Though I dare say, Mr. Jefferson, had such a bridge existed then, our horses might have been spared much trouble.
DB: (smiling) Gentlemen, thank you for your reflections. Chimney Point Tavern is a reminder that places of gathering shape history, and that leadership is often forged not in isolation but in community.
TJ: And may I add, sir, that if the tavern is now a museum, then let it also serve as a classroom. May those who walk its floors learn the same lesson we did: that liberty thrives where men and women speak, listen, and act together.
JM: Hear, hear. And perhaps they might serve a modest cider in the gift shop?
DB: (laughs) I’ll see what I can do. Thank you both.
