Re-Examining Thomas Jefferson and Slavery

After the Black Lives Matter riots and the cultural reckoning of 2020 following the murder of George Floyd, New York City’s Public Design Commission knew things needed to change in City Hall. By the end of 2021, they got their wish, and a statue of Founding Father (and slaveowner) Thomas Jefferson was removed from the building. Councilmember Adrienne Adams, co-chair of the Black, Latino, and Asian Caucus, was made “deeply uncomfortable knowing that we sit in the presence of a statue that pays homage to a slaveholder who fundamentally believed that people who look like me were inherently inferior, lacked intelligence, and were not worthy of freedom or rights.” These sentiments are shared by many in the American academic establishment, who have spent the past decade attempting to tear down Jefferson’s legacy, solely due to the fact that he owned slaves at his Monticello plantation estate. These scholars, however, seldom dive into the nuanced relationship that Jefferson had with his slaves, and how this differs from the stereotypical Southern plantation owner trope we imagine in colonial and antebellum slavery discussions. When scrutinizing the actual published reflections of two of Jefferson’s slaves, Israel Gillette Jefferson and Isaac Granger Jefferson, we can begin to see a more complex and, at times, even warm dynamic between Jefferson and these two men.

Before examining the writings of Isaac and Israel, we ought to quash some generalizations about Thomas Jefferson’s views on race. While there are examples of Jefferson writing on the biological differences between white and black people, with the former being superior to the latter (such as in the pages of Query XIV in Notes on the State of Virginia), it’s notable that Jefferson goes out of his way to undermine this rant by penning that he “advance[s] it therefore as a suspicion only [emphasis added], that the blacks, whether originally a distinct race, or made distinct by time and circumstances, are inferior to the whites in the endowments both of body and mind.” Jefferson, being steeped in European literature and science, heavily borrowed from their pseudoscientific theories when he would muse about the differences between races, but these were not the result of his own diligent and independent thinking. Rather, in a letter to Marquis de Chastellux in 1785, Jefferson writes that while he “supposes the blackman, in his present state, might not be so [equal to whites]...it would be hazardous to affirm that, equally cultivated for a few generations, he would not become so [emphasis added].” We should take note of the qualifiers Jefferson adds that undermine his statements, and his refusal to commit to the eugenic idea that black people are innately subhuman and thus ought to exist as his slaves by dint of their biology. We also have accounts of his very unique slaveholder behavior from Margaret Bayard Smith, a close friend and frequent visitor of Monticello, who wrote that Jefferson’s manners toward his slaves were “gentle…humble, [and] kind…as if it were a father instead of a master who addressed [the slaves].”

These references are relevant, but for an earnest and historical discussion of Jefferson’s relationships with his slaves, it is vital to examine their perspective as well. In Isaac Granger’s memoir, decades after gaining freedom, he describes his life on the plantation and his former master. Surprisingly, Isaac says that Jefferson was “a mighty good master” who was “very kind to [his] servants.” We also see a quasi-friendly relationship between Jefferson and Isaac, with Jefferson bringing Isaac to the “President’s House” every Sunday where he was “talk[ing] to me mighty free & ax[ing] me how you come on Isaac…[are you] larnin de tin-business?” This genuine relationship is shared by Isaac, who took pride in his blacksmithing, and when “he could make cups pretty well he carred three or four to show” Jefferson, presumably in search of some praise or acknowledgment. Isaac reflects on Jefferson’s unique interpretation of plantation life, where he “bowed to everybody he meet” and “gave the boys in the nail-factory a pound of meat a week, a dozen herrings, a quart of molasses & peck of meal.” To reward good work and “encourage them mightily,” Jefferson would even “give them that wukked the best a suit of red or blue.”

This particular memoir should be given significant historical weight, as Isaac had virtually no incentive to lie to his scribe, Reverend Charles Campbell. This account was written in the 1840s, long after Jefferson had died and Isaac had been freed, so there was no chance Jefferson could have seen a potentially negative account and punished Isaac. Campbell also said that Isaac was “quite pleased at the idea of having his life written & protests that every word of it is true, that is of course according to the best of his knowledge & belief.” He would go on to die a few years after Campbell wrote down his story.

Israel Gillette Jefferson’s life at Monticello is captured in much less detail (only 2,000 words) than Isaac’s, but it too reveals details about Jefferson’s distinctive posture toward the master-slave relationship. Israel said Jefferson was not like most Southern plantation owners, as when he went for a “ride out to his plantations almost every fair day,” he did so “unaccompanied by any servant.” Israel noted Jefferson was “esteemed by both whites and blacks as a very great man” and as a child, he looked forward to Jefferson’s brief visits to Monticello while he was President: “It was a time looked forward to with great interest by his servants, for when he came home many of them, especially the leading ones, were sure to receive presents from his hands.” 

These accounts clearly demonstrate the often forgotten “carrot” side of the relationship Jefferson had with his slaves, wherein he granted rewards and warm treatment to the most productive enslaved people, rather than generating work through terror alone (like his grandson Jefferson Randolph or many other Virginia planters). These examinations are not exhaustive, nor are they meant as a defense or excuse for Jefferson’s role in the violent institution of chattel slavery in Colonial America, but it is an attempt to create a more nuanced understanding of Jefferson and his relationship with his slaves. In fact, unlike other slave owners of this era, Jefferson rejected the unabashedly pro-slavery perspective that came to prominence by the end of his life. To lump him in with the likes of Confederates would be an ahistorical debasement of our arguably most important Founding Father, and it would not honor the oft-repeated Henry Adams aphorism that requires Jefferson’s character to be “painted only touch by touch, with a fine pencil,” not labeled haphazardly with a single sweep of a broad brush.