Stephen O'Connor - Thomas Jefferson Dreams of Sally Hemings

“Tilly,” Mary calls to the girl. “Wrap that up for Miss Hemings, would you. And make sure you cut it straight.”

The girl lowers her head in a semi-curtsy. “Yes, ma’am.”

Sally Hemings follows her sister out the door, across a breezeway and into a laundry room. Mary closes the door behind them.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I heard you was out there, and I couldn’t wait.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Oh, Sally! I just don’t know what I’m going to do!”

Mary collapses onto a bench beside a long table, and Sally Hemings sits opposite her. “What?” she says, reaching across the table to take her sister’s hands.

Mary is forty, with twists of silver beginning to infiltrate her dark brown hair. Her plump cheeks and habitually merry gaze have always made her seem more girl than woman but now her cheeks are drawn, her golden brown skin has gone slack and crinkly and in her gaze there is the desperate intensity of someone who feels all alone in the world.

“It’s about Joey and Betsy,” she says. She looks down at the table and lets go of Sally Hemings’s hands. After a moment she speaks. “You know how grateful I am to Mr. Jefferson. You know how kind I think he is, on account of what he done.”

“He’s always liked you,” says Sally Hemings.

Mary casts her sister a quick, timid glance. “I was very grateful when — you know: I told him what Colonel Bell and I wanted, and he just said yes straight out, and then he said that Bobby and Sally could come with me. I didn’t even have to say a word. ‘Of course you’re taking your little ones.’ That’s just how he said it. And I said, ‘Thank you, Mr. Jefferson. I am so grateful!’ And I really was grateful.” She sighs heavily. “I never been anything but grateful to Mr. Jefferson. But the thing is, I think I made a big mistake.”

Sally Hemings takes hold of one of Mary’s hands again and gives it a squeeze. “I’m sure you didn’t.”

“No, I did. I really did. Because I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Well, I also wanted Joey and Betsy to come with me. But when he said that about Bobby and Sally, without my even having to ask, I thought he’d be angry if I asked for Joey and Betsy too.”

“Why would he be angry?” Sally Hemings lets go of her sister’s hand and folds her own hands in her lap.

“Well, I don’t know. I reckon I just thought I might seem greedy.” Mary covers her face with both hands. When she lowers them, her eyes are red and she has to wipe away a gloss of tears. “Did he tell you about yesterday?”

“No.”

“That’s what I’m talking about, really. Ever since I left, I been trying to work up the courage to talk to Mr. Jefferson, and I just couldn’t do it. But finally, yesterday, I got so I couldn’t stand living without Joey and Betsy no more, so I walked up to Monticello first thing in the morning. And when I got there, Mr. Jefferson was coming out of the stable on Caractacus. So I just walked right up to him before I lost my courage.”

Mary’s lips part, but she doesn’t speak. The loneliness in her expression gives way to something more fierce.

“What happened?” says Sally Hemings.

“Well, he did get angry. He told me he couldn’t do nothing less I talked to Colonel Bell first. And I told him Colonel Bell already told me he loved my children and he wanted me to have them with me.”

Sally Hemings sits back with a furrowed brow.

“What?” says Mary.

“Did Colonel Bell really say that?”

“Of course he did! He said, ‘I love you, and I love your children, and I want you to have what makes you happy.’ That’s exactly what he said.”

Sally Hemings makes a dubious grunt.

“What?”

“Well, Mr. Jefferson told me that Colonel Bell said that since Joey was Mr. Fossett’s son, and Betsy was Mr. Fairchild’s, he didn’t see why he should have to bear the expense of raising them.”

“He wouldn’t ever say something like that!”

“Are you sure?” asks Sally Hemings.

“Of course! He never said that. I know that for a fact.”

“Not even to Mr. Jefferson?”

Mary is silent a long time. When tears begin to stream down her face again, she doesn’t bother to wipe them away. “I don’t care about that!” she says. “I just can’t stand not having Joey and Betsy here with me. I think about them all the time. I just can’t stand it. I tried. Been five months, and it only gets worse and worse. Sometimes it’s so bad I want to kill myself.”

It is almost a week before Sally Hemings has a chance to intervene on Mary’s behalf concerning Joey and Betsy. Congress is about to begin its winter session, and Thomas Jefferson has been in daily communication with James Madison about how they might make the most of the near collapse of Colonel Hamilton’s newly established national bank. Also, for reasons that Sally Hemings does not fully understand, the Marquis de Lafayette has been declared an enemy of the French Revolution. Fearing for his life, he fled France, hoping to make his way in the United States, but before he could get onto a boat, he was arrested by the Austrians, who are now threatening to execute him. Thomas Jefferson has been writing to everyone he can think of who might possibly intercede on his dear friend’s behalf, but he is terribly afraid. He hardly sleeps at night and keeps telling Sally Hemings that he feels utterly helpless. And as if all of this were not enough, every corridor at Monticello is blocked by baskets, trunks and heaps of laundry. Martha is getting ready to return to Edgehill now that she has recovered from giving birth to her daughter, and Maria is packing to spend the year in Philadelphia with her father.

Sally Hemings is in Maria’s chamber, folding clothing and placing it in a trunk, when eight-year-old Davy knocks on the door and informs her that Mr. Jefferson has gone for a ride and wants her to tidy his study. This is a signal that she should put on her riding boots and proceed directly to the stable, where Jupiter will have Goodfellow saddled and ready for her. She glances at Maria, who meets her eye for half a second, then looks away, continuing her ongoing pretense that she doesn’t know what Davy’s messages actually mean. When Maria comes back from Philadelphia, Critta will be her maid, and Sally Hemings’s sole responsibility will be to take care of Thomas Jefferson’s chambers.

Some forty-five minutes later, she meets a very weary-looking Thomas Jefferson on the western shore of the lake. The first quarter mile of their journey down to the lodge is along a road broad enough for them to ride side by side, and this is where Sally Hemings decides to fulfill her promise to her sister. Hardly a word is out of her mouth before Thomas Jefferson interrupts her.

“I’ve already been through all of this with Mary,” he says, “and I don’t know what else there is to discuss.”

“She’s in a terrible way. She’s been missing Joey and Betsy so dearly she says she’s not sure she can go on living.”

“What nonsense! Tell her she’s free to visit the children anytime she likes. And they can join her at Colonel Bell’s on Sundays and holidays.”

“But she wants them to live with her! And so does Colonel Bell.”

“Well…” Thomas Jefferson is silent a long time. Then he says, “I think that’s something she’ll have to take up with her husband.”

“But she has! He told her straight out that he would love for the children to live with him.”

Thomas Jefferson gives Sally Hemings a skeptical glance. “I think it’s best not to meddle in other people’s private affairs.”

“But she’s miserable. And you are the only one with the power to reunite her with her children.”