Steph: I agree that if people leave some essence of themselves behind in this world, the work of a historical novelist is to channel it. Trying to understand the good and bad decisions of an important historical figure is an effort to make sense of the present world they bequeathed to us. But trying to get inside that historical figure’s head and heart is a way of touching the past. Both are exercises in empathy that gave us goosebumps. Especially when walking the same paths that our characters walked. There were many times that our theories were borne out by evidence we found on this field trip. It was important to do it together and not just because we enjoy each other’s company so much. We’d both been to some of these places before, but the aha moments we experienced because we had two sets of eyes on it were amazing.
Laura: Absolutely. One of the most memorable aha moments occurred when we were standing outside the black fence around the Jefferson family graveyard at Monticello. Next to Jefferson’s tall obelisk monument, I noticed a plaque detailing who was buried in the cemetery and where. And the plat of the burials showed something so surprising that we had a total writerly freak-out as we absorbed all its implications—Patsy isn’t buried next to her husband. Instead, Jefferson is buried between Patsy and Tom Randolph, and Patsy lays next to her father. If that isn’t emblematic of so much about the relationships of these three people, we don’t know what is. That moment wouldn’t have meant as much if we hadn’t been there together.
Steph: Yes, but of course, because we were there together, I’m afraid we made a bit of a menace of ourselves at Monticello! While all the other people in our group tour stood gazing admiringly at far more famous relics, we nearly tripped over each other to get a closer look at William Short’s green and gold embossed grooming kit, which included, to our delight, a chocolate pot. (No one else seemed to find it nearly as amusing that Short’s belongings are on display in the Madison Room, given the animosity between the two men.) Then, after asking a litany of strange questions, we tried to reconstruct the violent altercation between Thomas Mann Randolph and Charles Bankhead in the dining room. I’m fairly certain they put a security guard on us after that incident . . . at least until we explained what we were about!
Laura: Oh, William’s shaving kit was such a find! And exactly the kind of thing that made the visit to Monticello so valuable. We learned details not often remarked upon or recorded in the documentary record. Like how Patsy’s daughters made necklaces out of berries from the stinky chinaberry trees, how small the dining room is despite them somehow fitting in fifty guests during Lafayette’s reunion visit, and how Patsy’s bedroom overlooked Mulberry Row—which seemed so fitting and even symbolic given both her ambivalence about slavery and tendency to see things about the world that her father preferred to block out.
Steph: Yes, I remember staring out Patsy’s window, trying to see with her eyes. And I’m so glad that you brought up Patsy’s daughters, because we had another great find involving them. We really got a feel for their personalities in exploring the attic cuddy office that they fashioned for themselves in the eaves behind the dome room. There wasn’t a lot of privacy in that noisy house where children shared beds under sloped ceilings on the third floor, and where Jefferson’s unending stream of guests made demands on the family below. That Jefferson’s granddaughters wanted a place to themselves at the top of the house—even if they had to share it with the wasps—so that they could study instead of manage a household tells us a lot about them. And speaking of the top of the house, it was from this vantage point that we first realized just how far Tom Randolph’s own secluded study in the North Pavilion was. Patsy put him about as far away from her bedroom as she could get him when their marriage deteriorated, and we thought there was some significance in that.
Laura: We learned a lot about Tom from this trip, too, especially on our visit to Tuckahoe Plantation, the Randolph family seat near Richmond. From the moment we made the very long drive up the shadowy tree-lined driveway, Tuckahoe had a dark, heavy feeling that neither of us could shake. It was like the Randolph survived there despite the fact that four other families have lived in the house since. And, then, as if Tom was acknowledging our presence, right after we parked, a dust devil whipped up and slammed into the side of the car. We looked at each other and both offered Tom some acknowledgment right back!