The Getting Word African American Oral History Project preserves the histories of Monticello’s enslaved families and their descendants.
Through over 100 interviews with participants and countless hours of research, remarkable stories have emerged to form an archive of freedom.
“You Don’t Know Until You Make Some Connection”
Ronald Smith talks about discovering his Woodson ancestry.
Ronald Smith: I really didn’t find out until two years ago that I was related to “the” Thomas C. Woodson. As indicated before, it was through the Ebony Magazine that I finally became aware that we were talking about the same people. I wasn’t aware until I actually made the phone call because a lot of names are similar and you don’t know if you’re talking about son or master, or slave or master. You just don’t know until you make some connection. It wasn’t until I finally talked to James Wiley after the search for his telephone number and called him to ask Thomas C. Woodson’s wife and daughter’s name that I really made the connection that we were talking about the same person.
Themes: Jefferson Descent
“He Could Distinctly Remember”
Wormley Hughes tells a biographer about Jefferson’s horses and adventures on horseback.
“On a beautiful day in the latter part of February (the opening of the Virginia spring), 1851- the author rode up Monticello, having for his cicerone an old manumitted slave, who had for forty-five years belonged to Mr. Jefferson. Wormley had been first a door-yard servant, and subsequently a gardener. He had dug the grave of his master and others of his household, and now was the oldest living chronicler of Monticello. Like most of his color, he had a strong attachment for horses. After a few minutes’ inquiries, his taciturnity gave way to animation on this favorite theme. He could distinctly remember, and described the points, height, color, pace, temper, etc., of every horse as far back as Arcturus, which Mr. Jefferson brought home from Washington. A crag of serpentine jutting into the narrow road, built high on the sides of a steep ravine, was selected by the fiery stranger horse as a shying butt-as if conscious that his rider would feel it dangerous to administer correction in such a spot. Mr. Jefferson tolerated this once or twice, but on its being repeated, punished the rearing and plunging animal with whip and spur until he was ‘glad to put his fore feet on the rock and stand still.’ Higher up, Wormley pointed out the path, or rather the rough untrodden course on the side of Carter’s Mountain, where Mr. Jefferson rode away when a detachment of Tarleton’s dragoons were sent to capture him, ‘but not till the white coats were climbing the mountain.’ An inspection of the deserted and dilapidated stables, called forth other incidents; and finally we returned so as to pass Moore’s Creek at the ford, where Mr. Jefferson was thrown over his horse’s head into the stream, as there will be subsequent occasion to relate.” (Henry S. Randall, The Life of Thomas Jefferson, 1865, 1: 69-70)
