Stories

“When I came to Cincinnati, I was employed as a waiter in a private house, at ten dollars a month for the first month.  From that time on I received $20, till I went on board a steamboat, where I got higher wages still.  In time, I found myself in receipt of $50 per month, regularly, and sometimes even more.  I resided in Cincinnati about fourteen years, and from thence came on to the farm I am now on, in Pebble township, on Brushy Fork of Pee Pee creek.  Have been here about sixteen years.

“Since my residence in Ohio I have several times visited Monticello.  My last visit was in the fall of 1866.  Near there I found the same Jefferson Randolph, whose service as administrator I left more than forty years ago, at Monticello.  He had grown old, and was outwardly surrounded by the evidences of former ease and opulence gone to decay.  He was in poverty.  He had lost, he told me, $80,000 in money by joining the South in rebellion against the government.  Except his real estate, the rebellion stripped him of everything, save one old, blind mule.  He said that if he had taken the advice of his sister, Mrs. Cooleridge [Ellen Coolidge], gone to New York, and remained there during the war, he could have saved the bulk of his property.  But he was a rebel at heart, and chose to go with his people.  Consequently, he was served as others had been—he had lost all his servants and nearly all his personal property of every kind.  I went back to Virginia to find the proud and haughty Randolph in poverty, at Edge Hill, within four miles of Monticello, where he was bred and born.  Indeed, I then realized, more than ever before, the great changes which time brings about in the affairs and circumstances of life.” (Israel Jefferson, Pike County Republican, 25 Dec. 1873)

My dear precious son:

I am glad to inform you that your letter with Post Office order came to me on the evening of the same day I wrote to you that I had not received it. I, as usual, return to you my heartfelt thanks for your kindness. I wish I could give you something better.  I hope you will take the will for the deed. God grant you may never want or even miss what you are so good as to give me.  I am satisfied and grateful for it. I believe I am now more resigned to what seems to be my lot than ever before.  At times, I am quite cheerful, at other times old and new troubles come back to me, but I know now better what to do with them than ever before. I believe God helps me to cast my burdens on Him.

I believe I wrote to you about the snow and cold weather, but today and last night a snow storm has set in that is far in advance of any thing of the kind for severity. It is now 10 o’clock at night and it is blowing and snowing as hard as ever.  The drifts in some places are four and five feet high. At noon today the boys went out to remove some of the snow so we could get out, but now it is as bad if not worse than before. It is about knee deep on a level. While it lasts, we shall be warm inside for every hole is stopped and we are banked up in some places above the windows. I don’t know how it will be by morning. Probably we shall have to be dug out.

I am glad to tell you that the “Colonel” commenced singing on the 27th of Dec. just in low sad notes. He continued in this way for several successive days, when all at once he broke out with the finest singing I ever heard from the bird kind, and so he has kept on ever since. I understand him now when he wants anything. He doesn’t like the lamp to shine in on him, and he gives an unusual cry. I get up and cover his cage and he is perfectly quiet. I attend to him altogether myself and I believe he thinks as much of me as I do of him. The ceiling is so low that I can’t hang him up, so he has been kept all the time on a stand by the window and he seems to feel perfectly at home there.

It is now much later than I thought it was, and must close, wishing my dear son good night and praying the good God to bless him.  (Julia Jefferson to John Wayles Jefferson, 15 Jan. 1877, courtesy of Julia Jefferson Westerinen)

Advantages are opening for educational purposes among us, but we must prepare our minds to avail ourselves of these advantages; and if we cannot adorn our children’s bodies with costly attire, let us provide to adorn their minds with that jewel that will elevate, ennoble, and rescue the bodies of our long injured race from the shackles of bondage, and their minds from the trammels of ignorance and vice.  (Lewis Woodson, 1856, in History of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, 404)

My dear Son:

…. What I wanted to say, my dear son, in regard to Margaret, is that I would be glad if you would see that she does not come to want after I am gone. She has been with me off and on for a long time, and now is not young or strong enough to make her living. We have had our ups and downs. I forgive all and believe now she would do more for me than any other woman. She is not faultless; neither am I. I have always given her more comforts than I have allowed my own body. When I took B[everly]’s children, I had a bargain and have paid her, though the account stands now imperfect for want of time, which if lengthened out a little longer, I may fix it more correctly. I would like for you to let her have a sum at my decease, say $50. or more to enable her to go or stay or do what she pleases and also to allow her at least $3.00 per week as support during her life, but more if misfortune or old age overtakes her. Whatever she may desire of my few effects to furnish a room for herself she can take. The greater part of furniture belongs to Beverly. She knows which is mine. The portraits of my daughter and granddaughter are to be given Fred and Walt Pearson and anything else of my effects they may desire.  The piano, being bought by their father, I give Walter. He can do what he pleases with it. My portrait is for you, yours for Beverly. Two large silver spoons, marked J.J. – one for you, the other for Beverly. The silver set is yours. Whatever either of you desire of what I call mine, take it. There may be a few gifts to some old friends of which I will tell Margaret and she can tell you or I may live to write it down; it matters not. The sale of the house will more than three times cover all debts and expense whenever you sell it. I shall endeavor to make it with as little trouble to you, my dear son, as I can. You have had your share of it. Would like a good gold ring given to each of my seven grandsons as a keepsake for me if you can do it.  Lay me beside your father without pomp or show, if you deem it as a duty or something like that.  Let the stone be plain like that of dear Julia’s, costing about $20.00 or $25.00, no more.  Say on the arch (where it says Julia on hers) “Mother” or “Julia”, etc. (on the front side) “Wife of E. H. Jefferson, born Nov. 21, 1814 and died – -.”  This is all.  This has been disagreeable because I know it will make you feel sorrowful, but I could not let it go longer, seeing the uncertainty of my condition. What more can I say than God bless my save [sic] my dear son. If I live, I will write again. (Julia Jefferson to John Wayles Jefferson, 16 Nov. 1888, courtesy of Julia Westerinen) 

“.…  About the time Mr. Jefferson took his seat as President for the second term, I began the labors of life as a waiter at the family table, and till Mr. J. died was retained in Monticello and very near his person.  When about ten years of age, I was employed as postillion.  Mr. Jefferson rode in a splendid carriage drawn by four horses.  He called the carriage the landau.  It was a sort of double chaise.  When the weather was pleasant the occupants could enjoy the open air; when it was rainy, they were protected from it by the closing of the covering, which fell back from the middle.  It was splendidly ornamented with silver trimmings, and, taken altogether, was the nicest affair in those aristocratic regions.  The harness was made in Paris, France, silver mounted, and quite in keeping with the elegant carriage.  The horses were well matched, and of a bay color.  I am now speaking of the years of my boyhood and early manhood.  My brother Gilly, being older than I was, rode the near wheel horse, while I was mounted on the near leader.  In course of time Mr. Jefferson rode less ostentatiously, and the leaders were left off.  Then but one rider was needed.  Sometimes brother Gilly acted as postillion; at other times I was employed.  We were both retained about the person of our master as long as he lived.  Mr. Jefferson died on the 4th day of July, 1826, when I was upwards of 29 years of age.  His death was an affair of great moment and uncertainty to us slaves, for Mr. Jefferson provided for the freedom of 7 servants only: Sally, his chambermaid, who took the name of Hemmings, her four children—Beverly, Harriet, Madison and Eston—John Hemmings, brother to Sally, and Burrell Colburn, an old and faithful body servant.  Madison Hemmings is now a resident of Ross county, Ohio, whose history you gave in the Republican of March 13, 1873.  All the rest of us were sold from the auctioneer’s block, by order of Jefferson Randolph, his grandson and administrator.  The sale took place in 1829, three years after Mr. Jefferson’s death.

I was purchased by Thomas Walker Gilmer, afterwards Governor of Virginia, and later, member of Congress from the district in which Monticello was situated.  He was an attorney-at-law, and a most excellent gentleman.” (Israel Jefferson, Pike County Republican, 25 Dec. 1873)