Stephen O'Connor - Thomas Jefferson Dreams of Sally Hemings

Finally Aunt and Uncle Eppes told her that they would go to France with her. They packed valises for themselves and carried them onto the ship at Jamestown. When she was settled in her cabin, they gave her a medicine they said would keep her from getting seasick, but that actually just put her to sleep. And when she woke up, she and Sally Hemings were all by themselves on a boat full of men, miles and miles at sea. Sally Hemings had never felt so lonely and afraid as she did during the hours she sat beside the sleeping Polly, and she feels a little of that loneliness and fear now.

She squeezes Polly against her chest and kisses the top of her head. “Your papa loves you,” she says. “That’s how come he sent for you. He’ll be here soon, and you’ll see how much he loves you. Everything’ll be just fine.” She kisses Polly’s head a second time, and the little girl returns her squeeze. “Who knows?” says Sally Hemings. “Maybe Captain Ramsey found your papa already and they’re just talking down there in that big house.”

Polly is no longer weeping, but she keeps her head tight against Sally Hemings’s breast.

It’s been more than half an hour since Captain Ramsey left them. All of the other passengers on their boat are gone, and Sally Hemings feels more alone every instant. Maybe this isn’t London. Maybe all these gruff men in their leather aprons and grease-stained clothing aren’t speaking English at all but some other language she’s never heard of. Maybe Captain Ramsey has just abandoned them here.

She gently extracts herself from Polly’s grip and says, “You wait here, Polly-Pie. Let me go see what’s taking that Captain so long.”

“No!” cries Polly, grief-stricken all over again. “Don’t leave me!”

“I’m not leaving you. You can see me the whole time. I’m just going down this dock here, so I can see in the windows of that big house. You got to wait here, because someone’s got to look after our stuff.”

Polly’s eyes are jittery with tears, and there is a groove of worry between her eyebrows, but she doesn’t complain. Sally Hemings steps backward and, after a few yards, begins to hurry sideways, alternately looking where she is going and back at her charge. She knows there is no reason Polly shouldn’t come with her. All of the men on the dock are busy with their own labors, and they could never make off with that big chest without her noticing. But somehow she can’t stand the idea of Polly coming with her. The two girls have been together every single minute of the last thirty-seven days. Sally Hemings would just love a few moments alone. Nothing bad could happen in so short a time.

She has gone only a dozen yards, however, when she spots a heavy-shouldered woman in a blue gown hurrying down the quay, clamping her feathered hat onto her head with one hand, her knees thrusting, one after the other, against her shimmery skirt.

“Polly!” the woman is calling. “Polly!”

She is close enough to see Sally Hemings’s smile of relief, and she, too, starts to smile, even as she continues to run.

“I am so sorry!” the woman says between wheezing gasps when at last she is at Sally Hemings’s side. “We were told… you wouldn’t be… getting in… until tomorrow… or the next day…. When I heard… your boat… was here…. I ran all the way….” She stops talking, grips Sally Hemings’s wrist and places her other hand against the base of her own throat, gasping so fiercely that she makes a ghost moan with every breath.

“Forgive me!” she says at last, letting go of Sally Hemings’s wrist. “I haven’t introduced… myself…. I’m Mrs. Adams…. A friend of your father.”

“I’m Sally,” says Sally Hemings. “That’s Miss Polly over there.” She points toward the little girl who has already taken several tentative steps in their direction.

“Yes. Of course,” Mrs. Adams says briskly. “So sorry.” And with that she runs toward Polly with both arms extended. “Polly! Oh, Polly! It is so good to see you at last!”

London june 26 1787

My dear Sir

I have to congratulate you upon the safe arrival of your Little Daughter, whom I have only a few moments ago received. She is in fine Health and a Lovely little Girl I am sure from her countanance, but at present every thing is strange to her, and she was very loth to try New Friends for old. She was so much attachd to the Captain and he to her, that it was with no small regret that I seperated her from him, but I dare say I shall reconcile her in a day or two. I tell her that I did not see her sister cry once. She replies that her sister was older and ought to do better, besides she had her pappa with her. I shew her your picture. She says she cannot know it, how should she when she should not know you. A few hours acquaintance and we shall be quite Friends I dare say. I hope we may expect the pleasure of an other visit from you now I have so strong an inducement to tempt you. If you could bring Miss Jefferson with you, it would reconcile her little Sister to the thoughts of taking a journey. It would be proper that some person should be accustomed to her. The old Nurse whom you expected to have attended her, was sick and unable to come. She has a Girl about 15 or 16 with her, the Sister of the Servant you have with you. As I presume you have but just returnd from your late excursion, you will not put yourself to any inconvenience or Hurry in comeing or sending for her. You may rely upon every attention towards her and every care in my power. I have just endeavourd to amuse her by telling her that I would carry her to Sadlers Wells. After describing the amusement to her with an honest simplicity, I had rather says she see captain Ramsey one moment, than all the fun in the World.

I have only time before the post goes, to present my compliments to Mr. Short. Mr. Adams and Mrs. Smith desire to be rememberd to you. Captain Ramsey has brought a Number of Letters. As they may be of importance to you to receive them we have forwarded them by the post. Miss Polly sends her duty to you and Love to her Sister and says she will try to be good and not cry. So she has wiped her eyes and layd down to sleep.

Believe me dear Sir affectionately yours &c &c,

A Adams

London june 27 1787

Dear Sir

I had the Honour of addressing you yesterday and informing you of the safe arrival of your daughter. She was but just come when I sent of my letter by the post, and the poor little Girl was very unhappy being wholy left to strangers. This however lasted only a few Hours, and Miss is as contented to day as she was misirable yesterday. She is indeed a fine child. I have taken her out to day and purchased her a few articles which she could not well do without and I hope they will meet your approbation. The Girl who is with her is quite a child, and Captain Ramsey is of opinion will be of so little Service that he had better carry her back with him. But of this you will be a judge. She seems fond of the child and appears good naturd.

I sent by yesterdays post a Number of Letters which Captain Ramsey brought with him not knowing of any private hand, but Mr. Trumble has just calld to let me know that a Gentleman sets off for paris tomorrow morning. I have deliverd him two Letters this afternoon received, and requested him to wait that I might inform you how successfull a rival I have been to Captain Ramsey, and you will find it I imagine as difficult to seperate Miss Polly from me as I did to get her from the Captain. She stands by me while I write and asks if I write every day to her pappa? But as I have never had so interesting a subject to him to write upon [corner torn off] I hope he will excuse the hasty scrips for the [corner torn]y intelligence they contain, and be assured Dear Sir

that I am with sentiments