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

87The young slave Israel Gillett, who helped Burwell by buildingfires in Thomas’s suite and who aired and dusted the place, showed mea blue fabric sling. He’d fashioned it on advice of Priscilla Hemings.“It’s elegant,” I said. Either he or one of his several girlfriendshad embroidered initials on the exposed side for Thomas’s left arm,which he broke a few months ago.Thomas’s arm didn’t need the support anymore, but today’seightieth birthday gathering—Sunday, the 13th of April, 1823—couldbecome frisky, so many great-grandchildren and grandnephews andnieces about.I’m the one who’d sent Israel to Priscilla about it. Now I plannedto wrestle my Old Man to the floor if necessary to make him wear thething.Israel, in his mid-twenties, was curious about everything. Hewas learning to read and write. When I had time I helped him. Of allthe Gillett offspring he spent the most time with the Hemingses,believing we were specially ordained or something.Thomas knew about the little party coming up and has said tome, “Don’t let that fool of a son-in-law offer eulogies.”“I can’t tell the Governor what to do.”“He’s no longer Governor, Sally.”“Don’t excite your bowels over it, Thomas. Nod and smilepolitely when Mr. Randolph says nice things about you. And thankhim.”He glanced away. “I’m sorry I agreed to this party.”“It’s more for the little ones than you, you grumpy old greatgrandpapa. Here, let me fix your vest. You’ve buttoned it wrong.”When Israel brought the sling I managed to get a grudging“thank you” out of Thomas along with a growl and a snarl.The struggle to put it on before releasing him from hisbedchamber was less than I’d feared. To demonstrate his feistiness, hefelt my breasts and whispered an obscene suggestion. I responded witha wet kiss and the promise, “Later, sweetheart.”I remained on the fringes of the celebration in the parlor, whichwas heavily attended by kin from surrounding plantations. Most stoodfor lack of chairs. Martha played the harpsichord. A trio of the smallestgreat-grandchildren sang and carried posies to Thomas, which he piledin his lap and acknowledged with kisses on top of their heads.I’d acquiesced to Martha’s instruction for spreading asmörgåsbord in the dining room. Jefferson Randolph had picked up ahuge cake at Nancy West’s place, specially prepared and frosted inred, white, and blue. There would also be ice cream.When Mr. Randolph stepped to the center to speak, Martha’sadmonition, “Keep it short,” was audible. The former Governorpretended to take it in good humor.A liveried Israel sidled up to me to listen. He liked older,experienced women. His eyes always held a look of hope when hegazed into mine. But no, thank you, to that. I thought I felt Israel’shand on my backside, but the room was so crowded I gave benefit ofdoubt. It could have been Samuel Carr’s hand, for he was also close byand sending forth his hot breath. Shame on anyone who would fondlea fifty-year-old wreck like me, though everyone said I’ve lost neithermy looks nor shape. They lied.Mr. Randolph’s tribute was surprising for the succinctness withwhich he summed Thomas’s achievements. Probably he wished toavoid a tongue-lashing from Martha later. But there was a new pointworth hearing.In addition to crediting Thomas with saving civilization via theDeclaration, establishing dominion over half the world by buyingLouisiana, dictating from Paris what should go into the Constitutionand Bill of Rights, and defying Christendom by founding a secularuniversity, Mr. Randolph unveiled Thomas’s influence on the MonroeDoctrine.Apparently Thomas’s letter last fall to the President cautioningagainst foreign entanglements was critical. Mr. Randolph, however,elevated our political philosopher to the level of a living god. WhileThomas has always been a god to me, I squirmed, knowing suchunrestrained acclaim would try his patience.Fortunately two of the great-grandchildren began scuffling onthe floor and sounding like wildcats. That ended Mr. Randolph’sspeechifying to everyone’s relief. Martha banged out a lively gavotteon the harpsichord as others stepped forward to congratulate thebirthday honoree.Later, that evening, after all guests had departed and theRandolphs resumed domestic warfare upstairs, I helped Thomasundress and settled him in his alcove.There, with the fullness of heart that love’s giving has awardedme, I delivered my birthday present and heard satisfied moans ofrelease and gratitude.And when I was certain he wouldn’t die of pleasure, I gladlydelivered another, recalling his past comments that there were somethings I did to perfection.