Sally of Monticello: Founding Mother the story continues...

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I summoned Beverly to bring a carriage around and drive me toCharlottesville immediately. “Not an open wagon,” I said. “It’s bloodyfreezing cold.”“But we’ll be going down at night, Mama. You’ve cautioned usnot to try that.”“Have Davy Bowles help you ready the new landau. It haslanterns. We must follow your father. He’s in a terrible state. Hurry.”Thomas had mounted a horse and ridden in the darkness andcold four miles to James Leitch’s store. There, his grandson Jeffersonwas reportedly stretched out with stab wounds that bled profusely.I was duty-bound to attend to Thomas’s safety and horrified tolearn what had happened to my grandnephew.I refused to delay our departure by finding Martha to discuss theviolence to her eldest son. Burwell sensed my uneasiness anddisclosed that Martha and Mr. Randolph had already left for Leitch’sin their carriage, also fitted with lanterns.The knifing assailant had been Charles Bankhead, husband ofThomas’s eldest granddaughter, Anne. I remembered my apprehensionat their wedding ten years ago, for Bankhead had come into themarriage with a reputation as a boozer and hell-raiser.Mr. Randolph and Burwell have both had disagreements withBankhead. At one point Mr. Randolph is said to have felled his son-inlawwith a fireplace poker. That story has been distorted several times,but its basis lay in Bankhead’s rough handling of Anne while drunk orsober.We made our way down the dark trail. I was proud of Beverlyfor his control of the horses and his watchful eye for ice patches.A small crowd had gathered at Mr. Leitch’s place of business onthe Courthouse Square. The Randolphs had just pulled up and alightedand were entering the store. Our overseer, Edmund Bacon, was alsothere.Inside, Thomas bent over his grandson, weeping. I went to himand placed a hand on his shoulder—by my look daring anyone tomove me from that spot.Local doctors were still treating and bandaging Jefferson’swounds. Their first bandage applications lay bloodstained on the floor.The young man had been stabbed in the hip and the left arm and hadlost a lot of blood—a lot of blood. His eyes were closed, and hisbreathing was erratic.After viewing her son, Martha became tight-lipped and stonyfaced.Mr. Randolph was characteristically enraged, asking witnesseshow Bankhead had so grievously injured Jefferson. Mr. Baconvolunteered that he’d broken up the fight. He pieced the story togetherfor Mr. Randolph and others within hearing.The two men had confronted each other in front of the store onthis Monday, first day of February, 1819. They exchangedinflammatory words over Bankhead’s treatment of Anne.Bankhead brandished first one knife, then another. Jeffersonsought to defend himself with a whip. While backing from a blade,Jefferson fell but was able to double his whip and strike Bankheadacross the face with the butt. They grappled on the ground, whereBankhead stabbed his brother-in-law in the hip and arm. Mr. Baconstepped in.Jefferson bled and weakened. Several men carried him into thestore. A doctor arrived, then another. Bankhead received treatment forfacial wounds and was taken to court, where he posted bail.During the overseer’s telling, Thomas quieted his sobbing, thenstraightened. “I want my grandson driven to Monticello. I’ll sendservants and a litter.”I whispered to Thomas, “Nurse Isabel is sick, unable to providecare. This is more than Priscilla and I can handle.”It relieved me to see one of the medical men shake his head andapproach Thomas. “Sir, his wounds are too severe. We’ll have to makehim comfortable here.”James Leitch came forward and said to Thomas and thephysicians, “Yes, let him stay here if that’s best. My wife is bringingnecessary pillows and linens, whatever the young man requires. We’llarrange watches so he’s never alone.”Mrs. Leitch arrived with bedclothes and arranged them underdoctors’ supervision while Thomas stepped away. Beverly approachedand said, “Sir, please don’t ride your horse back up the mountain. Ihave the landau with lanterns and would be happy to drive. I’ll hitchyour horse behind.”Thomas glanced at me. A glimmer of pride played across hisface. He looked at our son squarely and nodded. “Thank you, Beverly.I accept.”Mr. Bacon offered to accompany our carriage. Beverly shook hishead and suggested he follow Martha and her husband instead. Theoverseer looked at me. I nodded to confirm we would be safe.Riding back, I hooked my arm into Thomas’s and leaned againsthim. Renewed teardrops fell on my hand. He wasn’t fully recoveredfrom the sight of his grandson.Anger against Bankhead was sure to come tomorrow. I steeledmyself against ever saying “I told you so.”While tonight’s experience wore on Thomas emotionally, it alsoaffected him physically more seriously than he’d let on. I guided himto his bedchamber, then had to help him use the privy and undress.I wasn’t sure Thomas heard Martha and her husband raisingvoices in another part of the house, but I did. I had no interest in whatthey might be arguing about this time.Conflict in marriage, slaves’ dissatisfactions, debts, illnesses,violence to kin—all continued to stalk us.My brother Bob in Richmond, the first slave Thomas freed,recently lost a hand in an accidental shooting. His health has suffered.“Stay with me tonight,” Thomas mumbled.I thought of ten-year-old Eston, then recalled when Beverly leftus at the east door he’d said, “I’ll take care of everyone, Mama. Dowhat you must for our father.”Beverly was nearly twenty-one and would soon make his way inthe world, as Thomas had promised.Removing my clothes and snuggling beside Thomas in thealcove bed, I tallied the negatives—the costs of my life’s choices.Then I felt the warmth of the great old man beside me and recalled theblessings.I whispered, knowing he wouldn’t hear, for he’d already gone togentle snoring, “Till death do us part.”