Sally: A Solo Play

The Mr. Thomas Jefferson hasn't been well lately. His daughter Patsy and her 11 children, various cousins and nephews roaming about... I'll be right there.

Patsy is calling me again, trying to pretend as if all this is nothing out of the ordinary. Just another day. Nothing to talk about but the menu for dinner. Madison!

Eston! Oh, there goes Eston marching by with his fiddle tucked under his arm. Eston! He hasn't smiled for days!

Well, I'm sure you can see this isn't a good time to raise a fuss. But with the Mister ill and everyone so concerned. But he promised my children their freedom when we were staying in France. And I returned here, to Monticello 38 years ago because of it.

Now, I think I made the right decision back then, and if I didn't, I'll know by the end of the day. I've lived in this house as long as I can remember. When my sister Martha Wayles married Thomas Jefferson, I was three years old. Ah, my sister.

Let me explain. See in 1776, I arrived here as part of my sister's inheritance. Now Martha Jefferson's father and my father, they were one and the same. My mother, Elizabeth Hemings, was John Wayles' common-law wife.

That made me half sister to Martha. I was in that room over there when my sister passed on Mistress Martha called me to her side and asked for my hand. (as Martha Jefferson) Here, Sally, keep this bell. (bells ringing) It was the bell that she rang when she needed me.

Well, we never knew what ailed her. I was nine years old. And the way I put my hands like so. Well, I get those ways from her.

Now they say I was born old. So, so old before my time. I stood by mother under the canopy bed. And I saw Mistress Jefferson raise four fingers.

Why? I'll never know.

I heard mother's voice

(as her mother) Sally, pray for your dear sister. The master, tall, straight back, bent in grief, swore he'd never wed again. Master Jefferson? Well, my mother, Elizabeth Hemings, called him "a giant of a man." The way he took to his sickbed?

Well, for days he couldn't be roused. I never saw a white man in so much pain. And when Burwell, his butler, brought meals to the master's chambers, his "sanctum sanctorum." They say he barely raised his head. He didn't want to see a soul.

(as young Sally) Mother, may I take the pot of tea into the master? Mother? (as her mother) You? Go running off with the sevres?

(as a young Sally) But I'll be careful. (as her mother) Sally Hemings, great breaker of China. Don't you know by now? (as young Sally) But mother...

(as her mother) No one is allowed in his rooms. No one except Burwell. As soon as my mother's back was turned, I would ease up to the door and quick, try to peer into the room! (books slam) Blocked again by a stack of books.

Well now who's that peering around out there? I've never seen that face before. Must be another creditor. Looking for the Mister.

I ought to explain one thing. The Mister. See, when I was a girl, after we came back from France, when we were alone of course, I began to call him "Mister," as is the custom with married folks. He never corrected me.

One after another our children were born. My mother, Elizabeth Hemings, had an expression- "Old shoe". That's what she used to call John Wayles. Said all he had to do was put his shoes under her bed and that's all it took.

Well, it was that way with us, too. One October morning in 1795, our little girl was born, a babe who lives two years. In 1798, a boy, Beverley, 1799, another daughter, a sickly child. Old shoe, Our child is frail.

Pray with me this time. Pray that she has strength. Did I tell you, Lord? Patsy's child had a fine funeral, gloves passed out by the hundreds.

Patsy's child! Buried in the family plot. Not like my baby girl. (Sounds of children crying) The children.

Well, if you ask Patsy, she'll tell you there aren't enough hands to go around. That I'll just have to make do. (music playing) James Madison! We called him Madison.

Sit down over there right now. Oh he's the busiest child. Oh Madison and Eston are playing Stormed the Bastille to a tune on Eston's violin and the noise is deafening. Well their father is largely responsible.

He taught them all to play the fiddle. Eston, Madison, Beverley. (as Sally) And Madison stop swinging the bow at your brother Oh and Thomas Jefferson loves war games. Oh, the rowdier and louder.

the better. Eston, stand still. Bow for your father. Raise your fiddle slowly.

And one and two and... (music playing) When Monticello was new as a babe, I played the whole day. Back then, I spent most days with Mister Jefferson's daughter, my niece Patsy. I was her companion.

We're the same age. You see, there was two families. The official family- John Wayles and his daughter Martha and his other children with his first wife, And the unofficial family- My mother, Elizabeth Hemings and her five children with John Wayles. Me- Sally and my brother James, and three more.

We played over there-by that poplar tree. Climbed the shrubs under his window, but the master had it locked himself away, too far away to hear our shouts and screams. (as Patsy) Hurry Sally! And don't let the boys catch us.

(as young Sally) I won't. Last one to the tree is a blind beggar. This way, Patsy. Come on down the hill.

(laughs) Ha! (laughs) Fooled You! You missed it by a mile. Hands clasped together, under the shade of his poplar tree we skipped and stopped and

spied his words on her grave

(as young Sally) "If in the house of Hades, men forget their dead, yet will I remember my dear companion." And when we weren't playing hide-and-go-seek under his window, Well I was dreaming of schemes to hide Patsy's books under my bed. (as young Sally) Here Patsy- let me hold the book. We'll pretend. Stuff your gown with these old rags, And uh- take best dolly in your arms And (giggles) put her to the breast like so.

(laughs) If I break another dish, I won't have to wash the Sevres again! Huh! Well that was over 40 years ago. Hm.

You see all those books over there? Well, my mother helped the Mister sort those out. I saw some that still need to be cataloged but- My mother's gone... he probably won't get to it.

I never thought I'd see him ill again- never the way he is now. These days, there's a- a constant parade of people in and out of his private rooms. His sanctum sanctorum. Oh.

he can't supervise things the way he used to, but there'll still be orders to follow- his orders. I mean- look at that piece of door molding propped up against the table. And that wall over there, well now he wants it torn down. Thomas Jefferson can't stop his tearing down and putting back.

Not even now. There's Burwell again. Is that broth you're taking to him? Patsy's been trying to get my attention all day.

I can tell something's going on with her. Usually she doesn't wait, she just ups and says whatever she's thinking. That's her way. Her birthright.

Mistress Randolph. Oh- Patsy is married to Thomas Mann Randolph. Now, that Randolph man is not the easiest to get along with. Mistress Randolph, Is there something I can do?

Now, when I call her Mistress Randolph, she gives me the funniest looks. She thinks I'm being clever but what else would I call her now? Oh, there she is. Does she know I want to talk about the will?

(as Patsy) Oh Sally, I don't know how I'll be able to keep up with things! Her fingers are swollen and bent as if she's been out in the cold too long, But I think it's from all the worrying. and Patsy worries all the time. About her children, my own nieces, my nephews, about another scandal.

Everything. (music playing) What with the Mister so deep in debt. It's dusk. Eston brings music to the sitting room, a fine fiddle to soothe the Mister's head.

Every evening it takes Patsy takes longer and longer to make her way up the stairs. These days I leave a candle burning on the railing so she can see. She's up there now, putting her children to bed, worrying and calling out for this one or that one. If I listen closely, I can hear my own mother.

Elizabeth Hemings. She worried about her children too. Now, you can't quite see this now, but if you look over there, You see that clump of trees? Well that's where an overseer from the next farm chased down three brothers and beat one so badly that he bled to death right there on the road.

My mother, she. She tried to keep me near her. Oh, of those boys on Mulberry Row, that's what we call our folks cabins, those boys, young Jack and Mary's John, they followed me everywhere. Summer evenings, she made me stay inside.

(as young Sally) Now, mother. Mother, I'm not a child. Young Jack and Mary's boy? It was only to help with their crop.

Young Jack says he's seen no hair like mine. Beauty itself. My mother, Elizabeth Hemings, she grabbed me by the collar and marched me inside! (as her mother) Let no boy unbraid your hair!

Oh Mother. You were preparing me for a world that I could never have dreamed of. Now, in 1784, the master accepted a post overseas, Ambassador to France. See all the grief from the death of the mistress- her memory- was driving him away.

You may have heard this before- but the Mister was known for the most lavish entertaining. I mean nothing too costly or too rare to bring to his table. Of course, he was no different from the other planters. Slave men.

and slave women. In your kitchen to do your bidding. Thirty-two covered dishes for a guest or two. He thought nothing of it.

That's why my brother James had to go along, to be trained as a French chef. (as her mother) Sally, a letter came today from James. I reached for the letter, but my mother holds it away from me. (as her mother) He is well.

Some days he goes to the kitchen at the Hotel Langeac before dawn, as early as four in the morning and he does not leave till after dusk. Well, the work is brutal, and he wonders if it is possible to ever learn to cook all the French dishes, but he says the nights are warm and lovely. Hm. "Warm and lovely." Oh I pounce on those words.

James must be out and about, gathering flowers for handsome women and sitting by the lake till dawn. (giggles) I want to hear about James nights. I strain to read the words, only to have them snatched away. My mother folds the letter, places it firmly in her lap.

(as her mother) Master Jefferson says you ought to accompany Patsy to France...Sally? You hear me? Sally? You will hold Thomas Jefferson's life in your hands!

I hear the words, but sometimes when words are new and strange, they're only words. (as her mother) You will sail with Patsy to France. Here, these handkerchiefs. Keep yourself presentable.

Don't wear your skirt that way. Is that mud on the hem? Cleanliness. Sally.

Keep these handkerchiefs and you wash them often. And child, be aware of the trust Jefferson has placed in you. I held a beaded purse for my mother, the eye of her needle poised to make a fancy stitch. They say I favor the old mistress, my sister Martha.

The way of putting my hands like so. (as

young Sally) I hear her words

Thomas Jefferson's life. I will hold it in my hands. (as her mother) Ready yourself, Sally. I hear her words.

The only one that I'd ever known to cross the sea was my mother's mother, Beya Beyah. An innkeeper had given her to Captain John Hemings for the night to please him after he finished his evening meal. I can't begin to tell you all of the stories that my mother knew about her people "pure-blood Africans" she called them. She would tell me the same stories over and over.

(as young Sally) Mother, please tell me again. Tell me your mother's story. (as her mother) Sally. It's time you realized....you're not a child.

Not anymore, Sally. She reached for my hands and held them tightly... And I felt the blood drain from me. When my mother had something to say, you listened.

Days later I was taking Patsy's hand as we walked up the plank. The captain bowed, one flourish after another, until I was dizzy with this infernal bowing and scraping and the salty, fresh smell of the sea. (as Captian) "Here, Miss Patsy." He slowly opened our door. (as Captain) Here, Miss Patsy...

your room. And yours... And when I passed the men on the ship, the captain, his crew, they would accidentally bump into me or block my way. When I spied them headed in my direction, I would run.

I ran nearly every day. And when ship's cook called out "Miss Patsy," I ran to the dining room too. I overheard the captain tell one of his men "That one's crazy as a coot." Got no business caring for our little princess. He called her his princess, his little pet.

Now, when the captain looked for Patsy, he saw me too, standing right next to her. And when he tried to step in between us and move me closer to him, well, I held tightly to Patsy's hand. And when the waves rocked us back and forth and back and forth, he almost succeeded. (as Captain) "You two.

You sure are close." Later that night, when the captain knocked on our door, (door knocking) I pretended not to hear. (door knocking) It was my first time on the water. White waves. (waves crash) If you've ever been at sea, all the rocking and churning, you know the way it preys on your mind.

And that night I dreamt a bitter dream. Beya Beyah, My mother's mother, in the lower deck. Wet and cold in the blue-black night. A thin veil of fog.

Dahomey child. Each dawn she climbs the palm tree and touches wine with her hands. A tall boy, a farmer's son. Her family leads him down the road.

Marriage. Oh the gods must have a hand in this! A young goat is sacrificed. Okra, oranges, and yams laid at her feet.

She stands near old friends, her buba and iro an odd-colored blue, hair in beads, piled to the sky, tapping the palm wine from the palm tree. Kidnapped! Before the roast meat was cold, snatched away to America; she was a stranger to the sea. White waves in the blue-black sea till we land at port.

(City Sounds) I'd never seen sun like the sun that day. Not a bit of shade. Master Jefferson couldn't be there, so he sent Mistress Abigail Adams to meet us at the dock. She wore a white straw bonnet, with a wide-plaited crown that seemed to move mysteriously -on its own- when she peered at us.

One hand on her forehead, she examined my dress loath to touch the tattered collar of my waist- a near faint that changed to a loving sigh when she caressed the frayed hems of Patsy's skirts. Mistress Abigail Adams, bought new clothes for me and for Patsy. All the more presentable for the boulevards of Paris. The clothes I had washed and ironed the three months we were on board the ship were thrown away.

Have you ever felt as if you could barely hold your own? I've never seen anyone the likes of those people-the high-born women made up in rouge, cheeks all powdered, strutting along with a ribbon hanging, here and there. Why, I'd lived my whole life on a farm. Was this all a dream?

We lived on the western edge of Paris at the intersection of the Champs Elysees and the Rue de Berri at the hotel on Langeac, the perfect intersection... perfect view of the annual Promenade Longchamp, where all the rich folks, the aristocracy of France, and even the poorest workers parade in their finest. Me and Patsy stay with Master Jefferson. My brother James lives in a room downstairs near the kitchen.

When he first sees me, he is shocked! (as James) "Sally, dear sister, how much you've grown!" He tells me again and again. (as James) "Sally, your laugh. You are more our sister Martha Wayles than she was herself." In Paris, our rooms were spacious.

Here at Monticello, Patsy and her husband live upstairs in those cramped quarters. Eleven children in those tiny rooms. How does she even sleep at night with so little room? Sometimes I accuse her of stinginess, but what does the poor woman have to give when she has so little for herself?

But the will! The will! My lifeline. A part of me wants to stop bothering her about it and just leave it alone.

She is my blood. If only I could, but it's just not possible. I remember the first time he noticed me. I mean really noticed me- not the way he noticed me when I was a little girl but something-you know.

In Paris, I was rich with family. (young Sally) Patsy? You don't remember your mother's laugh. Not at all?

You don't remember her voice? Master, is it true that Patsy never heard her mother's voice or her laugh? He stopped suddenly, didn't speak. Everything was so quiet.

I put my hands- like this- to my hair, my dress. Was there something I was supposed to do? He was always so particular. Maybe my hem was torn.

The master walks toward me. He surveys my brow, a lock of hair near my shoulder. He nods and walks on. In France, I learn to style hair in the fashion of the day, to be a lady's maid, to launder fine linen and silk, and embroider with all the fancy stitching that I learned at home from mother.

And... I am free to sample all the dishes set before me. Saumon Froid-garnished with cherry tomatoes, and tarragon and those little things that I grew to love (laughs) capers. Floating island, and creme moulee a la vanille.

Patsy and I sneak cloth bags filled with vanilla sugar, and praline powder and cream puff pastry that oozes and drips in Patsy's pockets. Ah, but the charlotte russe that James brings back from the kitchen at night. It was indescribably delicious. When I returned to our country, I knew things that I hadn't known before.

James, I see you there... for a moment I thought I could make out a faint shadow. James was my confidant. There was never anything I couldn't talk about with him.

In Paris James works at the Hotel Langeac alongside free men and receives the same wages that they receive But, because he is James, he is easily insulted. I'm peeking into the kitchen. My brother James is there. Saucissons et pates en brioche.

Ah, heavenly. A kitchen boy is showing James how to prepare the sheep casing for the sausage, so delicate. The other kitchen boys are laughing at him. My brother's honor is in question.

James drops the casing and he storms out of the room. The next morning, when he returns, he says his pride has been damaged. The kitchen boys speak to James as if he is their little child. James grabs a saucepan.

He throws it against the wall. (pan slams) White sauce everywhere. And then James marches out of the kitchen again! The next day, Master Jefferson brings him back.

I watch them from the door as they walk into the kitchen. Everything goes quiet. The cooks stop stirring the sauce. The butcher's knife remains poised in the air.

The master Jefferson seems amused, and James slowly and carefully puts on his apron. The French tutor arrives at our villa. I hurry around, dusting the room. Then I stop, and I grab the book, and copy the words carefully.

(young Sally) Excsez-moi, est-ce que j'ai trouvee la bonne place? Est-ce que vous pouvez me montrer ou est la porte? (the professor of French) Mademoiselle, your French? Where did you learn that?

(young Sally) Was it something I was not expected to know? (the professor of French) Where did you learn that? At the big house. Where else?

James is in the kitchen day and night, except, of course, when he's on his evening stroll on the Rue de Berri. Now, in France, we are free! And James insists on his rights. He is paid for his work, but still, I receive nothing.

So I sulk. I do only the necessary chores. I do them sloppily. When I'm in the mood, I twirl and dance until I fall on the master's favorite chair.

I am reminded again to handle the Sevres with great delicacy. I hide the pieces of an apple-green cup under the bed. I slow down. For two days, maybe three, I spend as much time as I can alone in my room.

When I do chores, I do them slowly. And when I leave to go to the market, I take twice as long to return. When patsy turned 17, we are invited to attend social events. I am 16 years old.

Master Jefferson buys me a new dress, a coat, and a hat. James is not impressed. (as James) Sister dear, can't you see? The Master Jefferson doesn't want you to look like a slave, not here.

It is important that you have a bit of status. That's right. You must not be seen as a piece of property. Not in Paris.

(as young Sally) But James- the dress is proper, not the equal to Patsy's, but lovely all the same. I glance quickly at the door. Master Jefferson is highly critical of women who dance excessively. James marches up to the master's room.

Now James, he knew how to strike a bargain. (as James) Master Jefferson, my sister wishes to be paid! (as young Sally) In France, we are free! In the evenings, I dress in the new clothes.

Patsy and the sons and daughters of ambassadors from all around the world come to our apartment. We argue and argue every time about the government in the United States, but the conversation always ends with the biggest argument of all. Patsy declares that she hates slavery and all its degradations, that it is the most horrible of horrible sins! (as French visitors) mam'selle Sally, what is America like?

Mam'selle Sally, in America, do you attend evening mass? Here I am Mam'selle. A letter from the ambassador's daughter. Give my best wishes to mam'selle Sally.

Mam'selle Sally. (delighted laughing) (as young Sally) Patsy? You don't remember your mother's laugh? Not at all.?

You don't remember her voice? She does not remember. I remember. (pause) She was my sister.

Oh, theres Patsy calling me again. I imagine she wants me to talk to the Mister about the creditors. (to Patsy) I see. You want me to bring the subject up ever so gently.

In an effort to please her, I make a special trip to the Mister's room. I need to talk to him myself. There's that curious fellow from the University of Virginia again. Why, the nerve!

Look at him! He's sitting right there at mister's desk just sorting through a big pile of books. Excuse me, sir, could I have a minute With Mr. Jefferson?

Oh. Thank you. I didn't mean to rush you out. It's an early luncheon, you know.

I serve the Mister a tray of canapes on rose-pinks Serves. He doesn't manage a smile, but his words are tender. I try to get his attention. There are things I need to say.

(as Sally) Mister! He won't look at me. I ask briefly about the group of creditors that paid him a visit earlier that morning. He explains to me that he has a plan whereby he will reduce much of the debt.

Funny, now he's worried about the cost of it all. He shows me pages filled with long columns of figures, then goes into a long lecture about the appropriate use of Serves. (as Sally) The cost. The cost of it all.

I tried to bring it up again. His will. We talked about it just a few days ago. (sarcastic) But that's for the weak and ailing.

The Mister lectures me about the domestic virtues of Virginia women, their tidy ways. He is an ever-so-orderly man. (as Sally) Mister. The will.

Is it finished? (as Jefferson) Sally! I have myriad of things waiting to be finished! Business to take care of.

Look around you. All this work should have been done weeks ago! Now as soon as I'm up and about, I'll tend to it. I look at the piles of papers scattered everywhere.

I slam his door as I leave! (door slams) Madison and Eston, all my children, know the stories of our time in France. Whenever Master Jefferson would return to the hotel, I would quickly tell him all the things I had seen that day from my very own window. Some of it was new, but other things, like the fighting and, the wounded in the streets, I had seen some of that at home.

If look back, I can still see that clump of trees and that boy from the neighboring farm, the one they beat so badly he died. (as young Sally) Master Jefferson, yesterday, two men passed by, on the back of a carriage, hands tied together. And today, another parade passed our window. Master Jefferson says the king must share power, but the King refuses.

(as young Sally) Two men, maybe the same two, came by again. This time their heads on stakes, a bloody jacket perched behind them like a flag. A life. Another life.

Gone. Early in the morning, a mob stormed the Bastille, slaughtered the garrison. I could see crowds of people running past my window. The rage, the angrier, epouvantable.

The sound of thunder. (thundering) Tear down the gate. Throw off the chains. Another traitor sent to hell.

Effrayant. The light of lightning. Storm the Bastille! The clump of trees.

On Mulberry Row. Girl, you've been here before. I was carrying a tray when he called me. (as Jefferson) Sally, turn your head this way.

Now hold your face to the light. A little over. Master Jefferson, was whiter than a sheet. Whiter than I ever was.

He cupped my hands, my face in his hands. He turned to me, and I to him. He whispered her name. It was time.

Mother, you warned me. Let no boy unbraid my hair. Now it was time. To my eyes, he was young a shy boy.

(emotional music playing) He untied the scarf pinned to my skirt. The dress. New cotton loves a hand. He said he'd seen no hair like mine.

Beauty itself. I felt his breath against my neck. The warmth of his hands didn't startle me. It was as if he had always held me, as if we had held each other many times before.

It was time. I hear his words, but sometimes when words are new and strange, they're only words. The room was dark, but he turned away to unbutton his shirt. He holds me close.

I hear him whisper her name. Still. La vie nocturne a Paris. I complain to myself, but you know I'd like to see you again, strolling by those trees out there, examining the bark with a pad in your hands.

But I want to talk about your will, and you keep changing the subject. Showing me stacks of papers, articles about this treaty or that one. Or your plan to tear down that wall over there. This wall or that one?

I'm tired of bringing it up to you over and over. There's a possibility that you'll never be well again. You're 83 years old! Not exactly a babe.

You're Thomas Jefferson! A man who should know when it's time to put his affairs in order. And if you don't? Well, I'll see to it that you do.

I'm afraid to put it off any longer. (door opening and closing) Patsy! There's Patsy coming from the Mister's room. (as Patsy) Sally, I barely slept last night.

The little one had the croup and the cough is all in his chest. We've tried everything but it still didn't get any better. We hold each other and sympathize. I do love her.

(as Patsy) There's so much to do, Sally. And I'm trying to keep up with all of it! There she goes again, not saying what she really means. (as Sally) All of it!

Tell me, Mistress Randolph. Tell me about all of it. Patsy? (as Patsy) The will was completed yesterday.

The 16th day of March in the year of our Lord 1826. It's a good will, Sally. It doesn't free you, and Madison and Eston, but the three of you will be freed Just as Beverley and Harriet were. Lord, give me strength.

Freed. Under the darkness of night. As Beverly and Harriet were! Is she serious?

There she stands with her arms folded as though she's talking about the number of guests staying the night. All so simple. (as Patsy) Oh you know that I I care about them as though they were my own, and of course you, Sallyyou too. But, Sally, I thought you understood No we can't have anything in writing.

We've had enough of that. Those scandal sheets. They're everywhere. And do you know what they're saying?

Just lies. Horrible lies. No. No we can't put anything in writing.

Nothing for those vermin to dredge up after my father's gone. Now Beverly and Harriet walked away. We'll do the same for Madison and Eston and for you. "We"?

What does she mean "we"? Our daughter Harriet was exceedingly beautiful. I had spent months preparing her clothes for the trip embroidering the hems of her skirts. (sighs) (to Harriet) Now stand still, Harriet.

Stand still while I fix your hem. The night that she left Monticello for white society, I took her to see her father. The room was dark. And I stood by the door.

Everyone else had trudged up the stairs to their quarters, up to the top floor. I can still hear her crying all day and half the night. She knelt by his bed and she kissed his hand and started to cry again. (as Jefferson) Now Harriet, it's time to go.

The coachman's ready. Beverley's waiting for you. (as Sally) Do you hear your father? It's time to go.

Ready yourself, Harriet! So she'll do the same, for Madison and for Eston! (to Patsy) Patsy, we spent month and months, your father and I. Making the plans for Beverly to go to Washington.

Seeing to his safety. Finding a place for him to stay. And then sending Harriet there to meet him. Now who'll take care of all that?

Who'll reach out to old friends near and far? I mean, When the Mister's gone... (as Patsy) When the Mister's gone? My God, are you counting the days?

We've been so good to you. What do you want from us now? My poor father grows weaker by the day, and that's all you can talk about. Can't you give this family a little peace?

(as Sally) She wants me to leave it alone. Give her some rest. I wish I could. Those scandal sheets.

She can't put them out of her mind. Things were never the same after that. Between me and Patsy. Maybe I am being selfish, bringing all that up at a time like this, with the family not knowing from one day to the next whether you'll live or die.

But I made my choice close to forty years ago, and now I have to see... Oh, I know that there's things that you'll never finish but this, this is different. I have to make sure your promise will be kept. (as Sally) I remember the day we had to leave France.

(as Jefferson) Now. Do you hear me? We are leaving now. I'd never seen him like that before.

The Mister was insisting on returningnot in a week, not in a month. It had to be right then. I could see the crowds of people running past my window. Hear the fighting almost every day.

(Sounds of fighting) Patsy is determined to stay. Join the convent of noble women. Wash away the stains of slavery. And the Master is determined to leave.

With all of us! I try to get James's attention. (as young Sally) James, I can't go any faster. I'm moving as quickly as I can.

James is not involved. The Master is pacing the floor. He was suspicious all along when Patsy wanted to attend classes at the convent. But today Patsy has declared her intentions.

She wants to become a nun! The sisters at the convent have convinced her that moral decay is everywhere, from the Palace at Versailles to the most wretched slave dwelling. The Master is out of breath. He is a god-fearing man, but he doesn't particularly care for the Catholic Church, or any church, for that matter.

I try to move out of his way. You know, I wonder if Patsy wants to join the convent because she just can't stand the thought of my being with the master. Her own father. When we were playmates my niece Patsy and me.

Almost the same age. Oh now Patsy is crying. Servants run in and out, adjusting the drapes, and removing dishes. (as young Sally) There, Patsy...There, There.

I'm beginning to see that the Master is really a passionate man. His skin grows redder and redder and his breathing more and more rapid. (as Jefferson) Arrangements must be made! Quickly, quickly.

We must return. James shrugged his shoulders. And this only provokes the master more. James has found a lover, a young girl, the daughter of Pierre the butcher.

She's a plump girl with wild hair, blond and wild and thick with curls, and James is determined to stay in France. (as young Sally) James, I can't leave you. What will Mother say? (as James) Shhhhhh...

I'll never leave. (as young Sally) Never? (as James) Sally, Master Jefferson has you in a trance. Freedom, We are this close to it.

I motion James closer and closer until I can whisper in his ear. He doesn't understand so I whisper again about me and the master. When he finally does understand, he stopped suddenly and walks away in disgust. James!

Come back! James! I can't leave without him. I try to talk to Master Jefferson.

He doesn't understand why I want to stay. (as Jefferson) So, you like your freedom here? I nod. (as Jefferson) And your life in Monticello it will never be the same-as your life here in France?

(as young Sally) Never. (as Jefferson) But you need your freedom? (as Sally) How should I answer? Should I say yes?

Should I say my freedom is everything to me? I want to see Mother, I hear her wise words. I know I don't show but sometimes I feel the Master's eyes lowering to my waist and looking away. (as Jefferson) Now this freedom.

What would you do with it? (as young Sally) Do with it? Freedom's something to do something with? No no, I don't mean to be disrespectful.

I understand. Well, yes, I do know the terrors facing young women in this era of turbulence, uncontrolled violence, death and destruction. (as Jefferson) Oh. You do?

(as young Sally) Yes, I do! (as Jefferson) And you can protect yourself? (as Sally) Well, James will protect me. (as Jefferson) Ah James.

Which James? In which one of his moods? (as young Sally) I can't leave him. I am Mam'selle Sally.

I will never go back. Never. (as Jefferson) Listen, listen, Sally, now, if James were to return. If he were to return for a year or so- until I can train a new cook.

Oh, Thomas Jefferson is known for being a stubborn man. But he is used to having things exactly the way that he wants them, and if they aren't... So he offered me extraordinary privileges. (as Jefferson) Come back to America.

No work to stain your tender hands, run of the house. (as Jefferson) Your own gloves and gowns, robe a la francaise, skirts draped a la polonaise? Extraordinary privileges. (as Jefferson) A servant of your own, a plate of Marseilles figs at dawn.

The earth belongs to the living! I said no again. His plans to leave France are worth nothing without me. And he took to his sickbed.

Your head, sir, you need a towel for your head? For six long days he moaned and cried out "Come back with me." And the seventh day he started all over again. He begs me to return with him. Me, Betty's Sally.

Of course, I'm flattered. We would grow old together. Wait! There are things that I must understand.

Oh, he insists that a lady should not dance after she's married. Well, I remember dancing on Mulberry Row after the harvest in the evenings, oh so dizzy that I fall to the ground. But I must agree to this. And in turn, he swears to never take the floor at cotillions.

Now singing and playing the fiddle and harpsichord. Well, these are all permissible. I giggle nervously. He glares at me sternly.

And he swears no other woman will share his bed. That we will be as husband and wife but only to ourselves. Fidelity. I go to James and tell him what the Master has promised.

(as Young Sally) James, he loves me. (as James) Love? wha- what could you know about love? (as young Sally) James, he says that we will be as husband and wife.

(as James) Husband and- what- his wife or his slave? Well, flattery falls easily from his lips, dear sister. Well you're in the fish market now. Go ahead.

You strike a bargain. But you ease in slowly. The children. They will sleep on beds with feather mattresses, and no gruel for food.

The same food as his own. And their, their clothes will be cool in the summer and warm in the winter. Fine shoes for their feet. (as Sally) The children.

No overseer will ever control them. No scars on their backs! (as young Sally) And James! In a year, you'll give him his freedom.

He has his heart set on Philadelphia. So in a year, you'll let him go. (as Jefferson) You! You- you slip of a girl.

You- you bargain with me! I have no other choice. (Jefferson laughs at her) (as Jefferson) Come back! (as young Sally) I have no other choice.

(as Jefferson) Sally! (as young Sally) Our children- I want your solemn promise that at the age of 21 our children will be free. (as Jefferson) She bargains with me. You have my word.

When the deal had been struck, I packed my bags for America, and we set sail with three Italian poplars, two white figs, et une robe a la francaise. I learned to strike a bargain in Paris when I was 16 years old. And now almost 40 years later, I'll hold The Mister to it. (as Sally) Mistress Randolph...

Mistress Randolph, I have to have it in writing. I- I didn't mean to startle you. I said I have to have it in writing, but please understand I don't mean to offend. I'm- Mistress Patsy Jefferson Randolph pretends to ignore me.

She's busying herself with a correspondence. I can always tell when she's annoyed- or maybe I've hurt her. You know, after all your raging against slavery I mean, the abomination of it all. Well Patsy, you were never the same not after we returned to Monticello.

Four days after Christmas, I stepped out of the carriage. (as young Sally) Oh, they're so surprised to see me in pretty clothes, skirts draped a la polonaise. It's my first, so I don't show Elle n'a pas l'ai. Untill Mother places her hand on my dress, through many layers of clothes.

Enciente. Patsy hasn't looked my way, but she knows I'm here. She's probably going to tell me again that there's no way to put it in writing. No way she can meet my demands.

(as Patsy) Haven't I suffered enough? Haven't I, Sally? (as Sally) You-The mistress of Monticello? You-a grand lady?

You've suffered? Her face turns as red as her father's the day he ordered her home from the convent. (as Sally) Patsy, I mean Mistress Randolph, were your children born into slavery? Did you ever see your own people sold away?

(as Patsy) Don't you sass me, you hear? So Patsy thinks she watches over the plantation. So Patsy thinks she watches over the plantation. Now, although Patsy is the one who presides at formal occasions, I, Sally, who, strictly speaking, happened to be Patsy's aunt, actually run the place.

Patsy likes this arrangement. She knows if another woman, a wife by the book, were to marry the Mister and move to this little mountain, well she would have no authority. Better me than a competitor. I try to speak sweetly.

(as Sally) Mistress Randolph, I do apologize. (as Patsy) Your people? Have you ever harvested the wheat? Or felt the sun beating down on your face?

Your people, the Hemings? They were never sold, were they, Sally? My niece, my own blood. She is desperate now.

Is this the same patsy that I knew in France? The same Patsy who spent those lovely nights with me and the sons and daughters of ambassadors from all over the world. Oh Patsy, you have changed. You would do anything to get me to leave all this alone.

My people? I want to ask you... I want to ask you if you've ever harvested the wheat, but you'll accuse me of sassing again. There are things that I have always wanted to say.

(as Sally) My people, Patsy? But I thought this was all our family... Doesn't your father say that? That everyone in the cabins on Mulberry Row and at Monticello-that we are all one family.

(as Patsy) Impudent... I barely hear her say the word. All across the county, All the families are large ones, spread out from the big house all across the farms. I am not the only slave with long flowing hair.

I know there's gossip on the neighboring farms. The tales have come back to me. You know some say the Mister grabs me-like this and drags me into his bed. That he does that every night...

All this hair? Look how far goes down my back. Just imagine how sore my head would be. In March of 1801, the Mister is victorious.

He defeated Adams for the presidency, but the stories about me and him, they wouldn't stop. When I come in, the Mister folds the paper, tries to hide the news. The scandal sheets! He looks straight ahead, thinks he's being clever.

So many papers- so many stories. And the songs... (singing) Of all the damsels on the green, On mountain, or in valley, A lass so luscious ne'er was seen, As Monticellian Sally. The papers-I've never seen so many.

"Marry a woman of your own complexion." Quadroon. Octoroon. "Whiter than white." "Near white." Joined by a common law. You know all the highborn gentlemen swear that they're against race-mixing.

And James says that's why the attendance is so high at the mulatto balls in Charlottesville. Of course, black men are not allowed. So many papers- so many stories.

And Old Shoe is in one of his moods

(as Jefferson) Now Sally... We must not bring attention to our situation. (as young Sally) Our situation? Of course not, Old Shoe, I wouldn't dare make a spectacle of myself.

Of course, with a belly as round as mine and this boy hanging off my leg,-Beverley-Beverley, I said hold on to the railing- why would I even think of it? They say, let a man have his ways. Make him a little home. Don't question him when he goes away.

You want me to open the drawer? Mister! Earbobs all the way from Boston! He puts them on me, ever so carefully, his fingers gently touch my face.

They're an odd pair earrings, solemn and stately. He calls them a work of art but he means architecture, if you can say that about earbobs. They do remind me of the doorbell on the front door. Impudent!

Patsy holds that word in the thinnest of air. I barely heard it the first time but... She says it again. (as Patsy) Impudent!

No covered dishes tonight, Sally. After those vermin finished dragging our name through the mud, we dare not invite any guests to Monticello. You know how people are. And those songs.

They're everywhere. (Sally sings) Of all the damsels on the green, On mountain, or in valley, (as Patsy) Not one guest. Not a single one! (as Patsy) Look around you.

This is what they've been waiting for... the chance to make a mockery of our good name! I was willing to ignore everything, Sally, all of it, but now. Now that he's going to leave us...

you are asking too much. Can't you see what this is doing to us? Now you must stop! Now!

I walk away. James, help me with this. Where are you now when I need you? The candles were burning bright that night.

Even, in the evenings, after dinner, those nights when the house was filled with guests, we never saw so much light. James... (as James) You're in the fish market now. Go ahead.

Strike a bargain. After I finished putting the Mister's linens away, he asked me to sit beside him on the bed. He had a letter from Philadelphia. James had met difficulty after difficulty.

So many chefs in the city. No call to hire a black man to do a white man's job. James drinks to hide the pain. It was dark except for a small candle near his bed.

I hear the words... Sometimes when words are new and strange. They're only words. The Mister repeats them again.

James has hung himself. But I don't hear those words. I hear James' footsteps. He's bringing up a plate of Charlotte Russe up from the kitchen.

He's lecturing me about the Mister, about freedom. The Mister holds me down, while we cry together for James. Old Shoe, I blame myself for begging my brother to return to America. And Old Shoe I blame you for insisting he return!

for insisting he return! (crying) I chose to come back only to see my brother kill himself. (crying) (singing) Of all the damsels on the green, On mountain, or in valley, A lass so luscious ne'er was seen as, Monticellian Sally. Yankee Doodle.

Who's the noodle? What wife were half so handy? To breed a flock of slaves for stock, A blackamoor's the dandy. Tonight I will see the Mister.

Patsy's snuffing out the candles in the parlor. (as Patsy) Sally, I thought you had left. Sally... I pretend I can't hear her calling me, but it's too late.

(as Patsy) Wait, Sally. You'll wait until tomorrow. Until he's had a good night's rest. She orders me away from his door, and I ignore her.

I open the door to the Mister's room. On the night that the Harriet left Monticello, I stood beside his bed. I handed her a beaded bag of many colors- pink, purple, and green, strung together

and in tiny gilt beads across the front

Harriet. Inside... my gold cross, a watch from her father and 50 dollars. Tonight I stand beside his bed again.

Dark. Winter. Blue-black night; la vie nocturne. I'm wearing the earings that he brought me from Boston.

They're heavy. But on the night that he put them on me, very carefully, and his fingers ever so gently touching my face, he whispered my name. Sally. And my heart was light.

Mister, do you remember a Madame So-and-so who did not wear her jewelry well or arrange her hair? He nods. Patsy tells me that the will was completed yesterday. She says it's a good will.

You say you meant it to be? It was all you had to give to your family- all you could leave- to them. (to the air) Ready yourself, Sally! (as Sally) But it doesn't free Madison and Eston.

You say they'll be freed just as Beverly and Harriet were? As Beverley and Harriet were? First Patsy. Now you!

Did I hear correctly? Madison and Eston? Freed as Beverley and Harriet were? (as Jefferson) There are things I need to attend to.

Help me up. Burwell! Where's Burwell. (as Sally) Burwell's asleep He's back in his cabin.

(as Jefferson) Well, do you hear me? There are things I need to attend to and they cannot wait. (as Sally) No, they cannot. (as Jefferson) Just get Burwell now.

(as Sally) Mister.... (as Jefferson) First thing in the morning. That wall over there. It needs to be torn down.

(as Sally) You're right. It does. Madison and Eston. They want to come and see you and stay for a minute or two.

(as Jefferson) Not now! There are things that I've got to finish. Look around. All this work should have been done weeks ago.

As soon as I'm up and about, I'll tend to it. But I can't do anything lying around in this bed. And our guests. Are the arrangements being made?

But how long do you expect them to wait? They were invited months ago. Sally you know I'm not in the habit of standing still! James, am I hearing things?

(to Jefferson) As Beverley and Harriet were freed? I mean, is he serious? Is he conveniently forgetting that Beverley and Harriet walked away from Monticello after months and months of the two of us planning for their safety? (as Jefferson) Now Beverley and Harriet they walked away.

And we'll do the same for Madison and for Eston. (as Sally) "We"? Well, what do you mean, "we"? Who'll do all of that when you're gone?

Who will help me then? (as Jefferson) Now, Sally! (as Sally) Tom! He stands erect as though a bolt of lightning has gone through him.

(as Jefferson) I never thought I'd see the day. (gasps as Sally) Old Shoe? (as Jefferson) My Sally, you're rushing me along, are you? (as Sally) No, no, Old Shoe I- look Old Shoe, who will take care of all this if anything happens to you?

Now look, this time it has to be legal. Real freedom. Not just walking off and and running the risk of being sold away. On the run for as long as they live.

That I know- I know, they look white. I mean Eston at dusk he could be you, but that's not enough. I want them to be free. Free as any white child.

And Mister, you hold their lives in your hands! (as Sally) You know, for days, you begged me to return. "Come back to America." Me, Betty's Sally. "No work to stain your tender hands." "The run of the house." (as Jefferson) I swore to be faithful to Sally.

(as Sally) You did. You, Thomas Jefferson. You gave your word to be faithful to me. A slip of a girl.

(as Jefferson) Well, my word is everything to me. Everything. (as Sally) Yes, yes. Your word.

And you gave your word, a promise, to me that at the age of 21 our children would be free. Now I know, I know, I can't have my name in that will. Oh, they would hunt me down and hang me in broad daylight! But when you're gone Old Shoe, I can leave quietly.

I'll walk away and that's fine for me. But our children- -it will never be right for them. (voices echoing) Master Jefferson says you are to accompany Patsy to France" Sally? Do you hear me!?

Sally? "Madison! Eston! The candles are burning bright." The light of lightning! Girl, youve been here before." (Nigerian Music) "Dahomey child." "You're in the fish market now. Go ahead. Strike a bargin" "You!

A slip of a gifl! You bargain with me!" "Ready yourself, Sally." "Sally." "Sally." "Sally." Freedom, they have to see it for themselves to taste it and see what it's like. Real freedom. Madison and Eston.

They want to come and stay for a minute or two. Play you a song. (as Jefferson) Well I have to make sure they're in tune. Thomas Jefferson is known for being a stubborn man.

He's used to having things exactly the way that he wants them, and if they aren't... But I've learned a thing or two. Watching him never give in. Watching and waiting.

He knows me by now. I am Sally Hemings. I hand him the pen. And he begins to write the words.

Madison. Eston. You are free. (nature sounds)