Jefferson's Sons

Master Jefferson shut the nailery down. Mama said it was because the United States was at war with England again. The war made the price of metal go up until there wasn’t any profit in making nails. The nailery closed. The nail boys went to ground.

Mama promised Maddy he didn’t need to worry about the war. The battles were all far away. They were safe at Monticello. He didn’t need to worry about the nailery either; when he was old enough for work, in a few years, he’d join Beverly and Uncle John. Maddy’s friend James was upset, though. He planned to be his father’s apprentice, and he’d counted on starting as a nail boy. Joe Fossett said he didn’t think it would matter. He thought Master Jefferson would want James to work in the blacksmith shop. James was smart and strong, and even though he had three sisters now, he was Joe Fossett’s only son.

Every morning, Beverly went to work. Harriet minded Eston. Mama took care of Master Jefferson’s room and clothes. James’s oldest sister, Maria, helped Miss Edith in the kitchen and watched the younger girls. James and Maddy did chores and ran some errands, but much of their time was their own.

They roamed the mountain. They knew the best streams, and the quiet pools full of fish. They brought home trout, and catfish, and wild blackberries. They picked the first ripe peaches in the orchard, and ate them in the woods where no one could see.

In late June the wheat ripened. The wheat harvest was the busiest time in all the year. Mulberry Row shut down, and all the grown-ups went to the fields except Mama and Miss Edith. Even Joe Fossett and Uncle John cut wheat. Beverly bound sheaves. He came home so exhausted every night that Maddy was glad to be too young to help.

On the third day of the harvest he and James decided to go fishing. They took a shortcut along the path between some of the wheat fields, near the road that went down the mountain. The sun shone hot. Maddy skipped and then let himself run down the slope, his arms churning. James pelted after him. Miss Edith had said she’d fry up anything they caught; if the fish were good enough for the great house table, they might even earn a penny or two. The thought of being paid money to go fishing made Maddy laugh out loud.

“Us too,” James said. “Daddy keeps it in a box under the bed.” He grinned at Maddy, and whispered, “A hundred and fifty dollars.”

Maddy’s mouth fell open. He said, “You’re making that up.” He’d never heard of anyone having that much money. Master Jefferson, maybe, but nobody else.

“Yes, sir, that’s the truth,” James said. “’Cause my daddy gets paid sixteen cents out of every dollar from the Charlottesville work. And sometimes one of those visitors gives my mama a nickel ’cause her cooking is so good.”

Maddy knew how good Miss Edith’s cooking was, and how hard Joe Fossett worked. Still. “It takes a lot of sixteen cents to make a hundred and fifty dollars,” he said.

Maddy laughed. Mama never said anything about hard times. She’d have told them if there were going to be hard times. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“That’s crazy.” Maddy looked at the clear blue sky. In the hot air the wheat stalks gave off the smell of baking bread.

“Boys!” It was a man’s voice, hard and sharp like the crack of a whip. Maddy and James skidded to a halt. An overseer, high up on a horse, looked at them over the top of the hedge. “Boys!” he said. “You two on somebody’s business?”

“Well, the one of you that isn’t, get on over here. My water boy’s claiming sick, and I need somebody to fetch water to the hands.”

Maddy and James looked at each other. Maddy didn’t want to, but he knew better than to say so. He dropped to the dirt and wriggled through the hedge. James made to follow, but the overseer stopped him. “You go on about that business you’ve got,” he said. “One boy alone works harder than two.”

Maddy stood up, brushing the dust off his pants. The overseer looked at him again. His eyes narrowed. “Wait,” he said. “You—you’re one of Sally’s boys.”

“I don’t want you. You, boy.” He tilted his head at James. “You come instead.” When James hesitated, the man said,

The overseer didn’t answer. He pointed the handle of his riding crop at James. James got down on his stomach and wriggled through the hedge. Maddy stood beside him, not sure what to do. “C’mon,” the overseer said to James. He rode away. James followed. Maddy stood watching until the overseer looked back and shouted, “Go along home.”

Maddy knew he could still go fishing, but he didn’t feel right about fishing when James had to work. His stomach hurt. He trudged back up the mountain.

Mama wasn’t around. Miss Edith was kneading bread dough in the hot kitchen, looking harassed. “Where’s that rascal James?” she asked when Maddy came in. “I’m glad you gave up fishing. Here I am without Fanny or any of the girls, and half a dozen extra people just showed up for dinner. You’d think it wasn’t harvest time.”

Maddy swallowed. He didn’t want to answer, but Miss Edith waited until he finally did. “He said—he guessed I was one of Miss Sally’s children.”

Miss Edith sighed, and the hardness went away from her eyes. She said, “It’s a busy day, Maddy. I could use you. How about you snap those beans?”

Maddy pulled the bench closer to the worktable, sat down, and started snapping the ends off green beans. He wanted to tell Miss Edith that he could work hard, that he did work, that his whole family worked hard, whether or not they were Miss Sally’s children. But he knew Miss Edith knew that. Besides, he didn’t get out of work for being Miss Sally’s son. He got out of work for being Master Jefferson’s son, and that was something neither he nor Miss Edith could say.

Maddy worked for Miss Edith all afternoon. It was full dark before James and Beverly came home. James was so tired he clung to Beverly’s hand.