Still Voiceless: Sally Hemings in Jefferson in Paris (1995)
By now, I’m sure many have seen the photograph recreating a Thomas Jefferson portrait using his sixth great grandson, Shannon LaNier. LaNier is not descended from Jefferson’s wife, Martha, but from her enslaved half-sister: Sally Hemings.
As the Monticello website says, Sally Hemings (1773–1835) is “one of the most famous — but least known — African-American women in history.” In 2020, most know she was an enslaved woman who was in a decades-long “relationship” (though I hardly think that is the appropriate noun) with Thomas Jefferson. But that is all most know about her.
When in 1787 at the age of 14 she accompanied Maria “Polly” Jefferson to France, no one really knows what she thought or felt. Was she excited, scared, angry? As a slave, she had no choice whether to leave family and friends behind in Virginia. Yet, theoretically, she had the choice to return: according to the laws of France, she was free. In fact, she refused to leave France at first. So why did she return, especially since it is known she initially refused to do so when Jefferson was recalled to the United States in 1789?
For that matter, why enter an intimate “relationship” with Jefferson while in Paris? Given his status as her owner (though not recognized in France), their 30 year age difference, and her youth (she was between 14 and 16), the power dynamics were not in her favor. In fact it is pointless to argue whether it was consensual: an enslaved teenager could not refuse without consequences.
What we do know is a matter of historical record, but that fails to convey the human aspects of a person’s life. We know she was born to Betty Hemings in 1773. Her father was Betty’s owner, John Wayles, father of Thomas Jefferson’s wife, Martha. Betty herself had a white father, an English sea captain named Hemings who fathered a child with an enslaved African woman who was owned by the Wayles family.
When John Wayles died, Sally’s family followed Martha to Monticello as her inheritance. In France, Sally received a salary as a maid in Jefferson’s household. Her brother James learned French cooking. At some point in her two and a half years there, she became “involved” with Jefferson. She refused to return to slavery in the United States. She did, with only Jefferson’s word that any future children obtained freedom by 21 and “privileges” for herself. She may or may not have been pregnant when she left Paris.
She had 6 children. Only four made it to adulthood. Her youngest sons were freed at Jefferson’s death in 1826 — the older children had already passed into White society. He did not free her. Jefferson’s daughter, also named Martha, gave her “unofficial” freedom shortly after. She left the plantation to live with her sons, Madison and Eston. She brought some of Jefferson’s personal items: She appeared on the census as a free woman twice: one listed as white, and the other as mixed race. She died in 1835. There are no drawings or paintings of her.
It is unclear whether she was literate, which is unlikely. Who she was as a person has only ever been told by others: whether it be one of her sons, Jefferson’s political enemies, a few visitors to Monticello during her life time, passed down to her descendants, historians, writers. And of course, filmmakers.
But how has the story been handled in film? To answer this, I watched the first film portrayal of Hemings: Merchant-Ivory’s Jefferson in Paris (1995)
This heavily-powdered production was directed by James Ivory, with screenplay by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala. At the time, the inclusion of Sally Hemings was still the subject of scholarly debate: historians were still on the fence as to whether Jefferson fathered any of Hemings’ children. DNA evidence would not link him to one of her known male descendants until 1998. The movie itself was a flop, with 31% on Rotten Tomatoes. No surprise, considering the movie spent too much time on scenes and plots that seemed to have no relation to each other.
Set between 1786 and 1789, this French-American film follows a curious but uptight Thomas Jefferson (Nick Nolte) as he navigates the moral laxities of French aristocratic society and falls for the talented, but married, Maria Cosway (Greta Scacchi) — a British artist living in the shadow of her less talented artist husband. Shortly after, he sends for his daughter Polly, who brings her nursemaid Sally (Thandie Newton). He is torn between his attachment to a married woman and his promise to his deceased wife Martha that he would never marry again. All interspersed with Jefferson’s observances of the French royal court, the buildup to revolution, and a whole lot about Marie Antoinette that has little to do with the main romantic plot. For some reason, Louis XVI looked like a grandfather, despite the real man being in his 30s in the 1780s. And lots of French dialogue that was not subtitled for American audiences (it was supposed to be a dual-nation production).
Sally’s storyline does not begin until almost halfway through the movie — although the film uses the narrative frame of her son Madison Hemings (James Earl Jones) telling the story to a shocked reporter in the late 19th century. But her arrival furthers questions about Jefferson’s hypocrisy, which I think the movie handles pretty well.
To move away from Sally for a moment, when the film began I had doubts about how Jefferson would be portrayed. Often, the founding fathers are portrayed as untouchable gods beyond human flaws and contradictions— especially in American media. Nolte’s performance seemed as if Jefferson had stepped out of a John Trumbull painting: stiff, overly-important — a mythical figure spewing intelligent sounding bits of philosophy rather than an emotional and flawed human being. While I still think Nolte could have improved his performance, it became clear the film would not shy away from Jefferson’s hypocrisies and he would not be deified.
His approach to the education of his eldest daughter is one instance. Teenage Martha “Patsy” Jefferson (Gwyneth Paltrow) begins her education in France at a sufficiently cloistered Roman Catholic school for girls. His first worry is the influence of religion on his Protestant daughter. The Abbess reassures him the nuns never try to convert the students, but wonders at his concern considering he professes to believe in freedom of religion. Like the diplomat he was, he verbally wriggles his way around the issue. An action that will become his theme throughout the film. Towards the film’s end, he also forces Patsy to give up her desire to convert to Catholicism and join a nunnery, again seemingly antithetical to the freedom of choice he claims to hold dear.
During his first conversation with Maria Cosway at a party, Maria notices his discomfort at the idea French morals could influence his daughter Patsy (as she is referred to throughout the film). Maria asks if American morals are superior, to which he replies they are better for Americans, but “easy to unlearn.”
He shows this ease in an earlier scene when James Hemings (Seth Gilliam) hesitantly asks to receive a salary since he is not a slave in their current residence. Jefferson immediately grants the request, but quickly reminds that they must return to their “own ways” in Virginia. Not only does this scene show an “unlearning” of American ways, but when combined with the conversation on French morals it shows American (or at least Virginian) morality is inextricably linked to the exploitation of other humans. Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of Independence, is stubbornly attached to the “American way” that denies the independence of an entire people group.
Speaking of the Declaration, the film uses Jefferson’s French acquaintances to continually call attention to the double standards he does not recognize. In one party scene, they admire a framed copy of the Declaration. Someone asked him if it should it say “all white men are created equal.” Jefferson is all too comfortable responding that “allowances” must be made for “inherent differences.”
Another scene I feel shows his moral double standard is when he declares his belief that slavery is evil. This scene is after he shows his comfort with returning James to this evil state. This is reflective of the real Jefferson, who declared slavery a moral depravity and publicly opposed it while still owning 600 people.
In the film, he excuses his ownership of others to Maria, saying foreigners cannot understand the “special” relationship American owners have with their slaves. Based on this, an audience can only assume he knowingly puts his personal benefit above his moral convictions — in itself immoral due to the exploitation it entails.
Jefferson’s dubious and self-righteous morality is set before Sally appears on screen. Over an hour into the film, Jefferson — who has already lost Maria’s company as she returned to England — receives word that his youngest daughter Lucy has died. Grief-stricken, he sends for his remaining daughter, Polly, to join him and Patsy in Paris. The film world’s first image of Sally finally appears: young and wide-eyed with fear (or perhaps surprise) at news of the journey.
There is less to analyze of Sally as the film only offers a small glimpse at who she is as a person. She is only close to two people: her older brother, James, and her charge, Polly. Sally is shown as almost motherly towards Polly, who is rather clingy towards Sally. It was not unusual for white children to become closely attached to their enslaved caretakers. But Polly is still Sally’s owner: how close could such a relationship truly be. The relationship is stranger when you remember Sally is technically Polly’s aunt.
Despite the limited view of Sally, and my issues with her characterization (which I will get into), Newton does portray what is given to her believably. Newton was 23 years old when the film released, but I was still able to buy that her character was 14–16 during the films events.
James seems to be Sally’s voice of reason. Sally can be interpreted as high-spirited, naive, nurturing, outgoing, but also wary of new concepts and modes of living. This last detail is especially uncomfortable to watch, as she seems extremely attached to the way she lived in Virginia: as a slave. In fact, it is James who tells her to demand a salary, an action she only grudgingly carries out. Even then, she is frightened of the money and has Jefferson hold on to it for her.
This brings us to her reliance on Jefferson. It becomes apparent soon after her arrival in Paris that the filmmakers chose to give her a crush/childish infatuation with Jefferson. Prior to her first appearance, he broke his wrist in a foolish attempt to prove his infatuation with Maria Cosway. It did not heal well and Sally offers to make an American remedy. She takes pride when it works. Beyond this, she is constantly lurking around him, either to see him or possibly catch his attention. For some inexplicable reason, she also has a flirtatious personality, at least around Jefferson.
Were the filmmakers attempting to mitigate the discomfort of modern audiences by making the affair resemble a normal, consensual relationship? While it is not beyond the realm of possibility for the real Sally to have felt such feelings, including this detail should not excuse the predatory nature of Jefferson’s actions.
There can be a lot of reasons their real-life counterparts were “together”: I think a form of grief attracted Jefferson, as Sally may have reminded him of his deceased wife (Sally’s half-sister). But that does not change the inherent abuse built into their system. Yet in the film, it sometimes felt as if the writers were trying to portray a forbidden romance or “oh no, this other ‘woman’ is adding temptation to the Thomas/Maria romance.” No, not only is Sally a girl, but even in France Jefferson wields total power over her person.
As an audience member, this is best exemplified in a scene in which Jefferson gifts her with a necklace. Once she wears it, he sensually traces the ribbon from her neck to the pendent over her cleavage. More than anything, she seemed all the more small and young in contrast to the mature man ogling her. The scene is highly charged, but unfortunately the charge strayed too close to that of an equal encounter.
Sally herself does not read her situation well. I think this is okay for her characterization as she is very young and not yet wise to the ways of her world. The most startling instance of this is when she reveals to James she is pregnant with Jefferson’s baby. She seems blissfully smug — like a girl in a teen romance movie who believes she’s found “the one” in freshman year. At first, she seems to think having Jefferson’s children would offer her a step up, as well as comforts at Monticello. Yet, as James reminds her, she is providing Jefferson with more free labor.
However, her misreading her position is bothersome because it is a prime example that her character has limited agency. Outside of pursuing Jefferson, she has little role in major events in her own storyline. Yes Sally is young and enslaved, but that does not mean her character (or the real person) cannot do things on her own (or at least desired to).
This movie gives the decision to stay in Paris to James and not Sally. Again, she is more concerned with immediate comfort. She wonders how they could live on their own and only reluctantly goes along with James to inform Jefferson of their intent. While these are understandable concerns for a child who has never known any other system, it is yet another example of the filmmakers making her seem — for lack of a better descriptive — “slavish.”
There is one aspect of this situation that I think the filmmakers did well: Sally wants to return to Virginia because she misses her large family.
Towards the end of runtime this situation feels explicitly ominous. Jefferson, skilled wordsmith that he is, manages to manipulate the siblings into returning. In exchange James receives freedom, Sally gains comfort at Monticello and freedom for her children (and herself at Jefferson’s death). This win on Jefferson’s end almost undoes all the questions about his hypocrisies earlier in the movie because his character remains static.
After all other parties (including Patsy as witness) swear on a Bible, the camera closes in on a tearful Sally as the group awaits her decision. Her face is distraught. Perhaps she finally realizes what has happened to her. Or perhaps she is uncertain of the future. The music becomes a little darker, and the picture also dims, as if Sally sees a dimmer present and future. The film closes without her reply.
So there it is. The first film portrayal of Sally Hemings is a mixed bag. Perhaps a longer series that spans her life would fare better, with more time to develop characters. There is miniseries from 2000, which may be it’s own article in the future. I hold no hope for it as the DVD cover’s tagline reads “bound by slavery, freed by love.” I can’t anymore…
Historical References:
https://www.monticello.org/sallyhemings/
https://www.americanheritage.com/did-sally-hemings-and-thomas-jefferson-love-each-other
https://www.monticello.org/site/research-and-collections/paris
https://www.monticello.org/site/research-and-collections/maria-cosway-engraving
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4p2956.html?scrlybrkr
https://www.monticello.org/thomas-jefferson/jefferson-slavery/jefferson-s-attitudes-toward-slavery/
https://www.encyclopedia.com/humanities/applied-and-social-sciences-magazines/nurses-and-mammies
