The really really short version: There were two Minervas who represent the facets of Jefferson’s life. The first was the Roman goddess of wisdom. She is referenced several times in Jefferson’s letters.
In 1815, after the Capitol and its library were burned, Jefferson proposed the new Library of Congress and seeded it with the bulk of his personal library which he sent to D.C. (11 wagon loads containing 6,800 books) and for which he was paid $23,950 (some of those things that require cites in a paper). This nearly killed him, but in addition to believing that there’s no subject Congress shouldn’t have information on (lengthy quote) he desperately needed the money. (An irony is that in the LoC gift shop there are all sorts of decorations and souveniers with Jefferson’s quote “I cannot live without books”, which always makes me snort just a tad as apparently he could or the LoC wouldn’t be there.) Also included in the purchase were Jefferson’s (ingenious if no longer possible) cataloging/classification system and a few doo-dads, including a bust of Minerva he had purchased in France.
Another Minerva was born around 1765-1770 on Jefferson’s mother’s plantation at Tuckahoe (now available for weddings- though where Minerva would have lived in a part that looked more like the images on this page where a wedding wouldn’t be so romantic. She was very possibly named by Jefferson himself (masters often named their slaves). She married Bagwell, the phrase “Till death or distance do we part” probably appearing in their vows. She and Bagwell had many children, 7 of whom survived to adulthood. We know that in October 1799 she and her husband and their then 5 kids received “16 dried herring, seven pecks of cornmeal and two pounds of beef” as their monthly ration. She would also have received rice (which was plentiful) but to put off hunger she and her husband would have relied on their own vegetable garden and chickens (which slaves at Monticello kept), which they would have tended to in their abundant free time.
Minerva’s weekly schedule: Monday through Saturday: wake before dawn, prepare breakfast for her family, then go to the fields (indigo/rice/tobacco depending on the year and time of year). Two hour break at high noon during the hottest period of the year, then return to the field and work until sundown. In other words, she put in a 14 hour day in very hot weather doing physically demanding work before coming home to tend to her husband and their many children and going to bed to get up at dawn and do the whole thing over again. Sundays she was off and probably spent the time getting facials and eating bon-bons— or tending to her own garden and chickens that kept the family from starvation and mending/laundering clothes (few slaves at Monticello had more than one set of clothing and those that did were exceptionally proud of them).
Minerva’s home was 20 x 12 with a loft and probably looked like this (a drawing based on archaeological digs at M’cello). It was located on Mulberry Row and probably had a small loft and a crude storage pit. If she had prize possessions they were probably decorations made of African shells, which have been found in profusion in the cabins of M’cello and other Virginia plantations and are something of a mystery. So, she and her family (up to 9 people) lived in 240 square feet (which I will say only this in Jefferson’s defense- a free white family of modest means would not have lived much better, but then they were free and white) and for the 7 of them in 1799 they had 2 lbs. of beef per month to eat anyway they pleased. (Jefferson’s wine bill along exceeded $100 per month and he is known to have spent $50 on groceries for his own dinner more than a few times.)
Back to Minerva 1: Most of the books Jefferson sold Congress were destroyed in a fire, but the idea of the ultimate library at least survived (with much opposition). Finally in the 1880s after a big battle funds were approved for a suitable housing- The Thomas Jefferson Building (beautiful close-up, you can’t see the details in that pic). Much of the building was inspired by Jefferson’s notes: the front doors are Imagination & Memory (based on the 2 main components of his classification system) and through them you enter the corridors where the white marble and explosions of color begin. On the second floor, after passing numerous little “hidden winks” in the architecture and gorgeous marble and artwork everywhere (you could go there everyday for a month and not take it all in) you come to the grand staircase and at the top of it is the mosaic of Minerva, based on Jefferson’s own words. (At the top of these stairs you can overlook the Main . Reading. Room, which no photos can do justice. It’s a temple of knowledge that makes you feel what the Athenians must have felt when they saw the statue of Pallas in the Parthenon.
Back to a Minerva less grandly attired: she labored in Jefferson’s fields until 1827. She was in her late 50s by then, the mother of 7 children, grandmother and great-grandmother to many more, her husband now infirm as well. Minerva if she was like other slaves was probably nearly hunchbacked from her years in the rice and whatever shade her skin was at birth she would have been black as coffee (a commodity she wouldn’t have had very often if at all) from the sun.
Jefferson was dead a year. His lavish lifestyle (including constant OCD rebuilding of Monticello and his getaway mansionette), bad harvests, lavish lifestyle, really bad investments, supporting his huge family when his son-in-law went mad, metrosexual accoutrement of all kind, co-signing for friends who defaulted, and other factors (but the lavish living most definitely did not help and probably pushed him over the edge) resulted in his dying bankrupt with debts far exceeding his assets. For a year the slaves at Monticello (minus the 5 he freed in his will and Sally Hemings, who was probably informally manumitted in a gentleman’s agreement) must have awaited the sword of Damocles as they knew what was coming, and it did. Creditors came and they met every one of the slaves remaining- about 130 of them- to appraise them.
Minerva’s value was listed as nothing. $0.00
A relative of Jefferson’s did her a kindness- he bought her off of the block at the first auction for $20. He also bought her husband, who went for $50 because in spite of his age he was in better condition and had a skill. He essentially put them out to pasture- he gave them a cabin on his plantation and only the lightest work. That was half of her retirement package.
The other half was seeing all 7 of her children and all of her grandchildren and all of her great-grandchildren sold at one of the three auctions between 1827 and 1831. They had lived around her their entire life and most of them she never saw again. The same with her brothers and sisters and their families. For that matter, all of Sally’s surviving sisters and all but one of her surviving brothers and most of their families- sold away. Joe Fossett, Sally’s nephew, was freed in Jefferson’s will- his wife and 10 children were not and they were sold to several different masters.
It’s impossible to imagine exactly what had to have gone through the minds of Minerva and Bagwell and Fossett, so let’s just focus on one thing. Imagine the thought of seeing your most attractive daughter sold, and you have absolutely no idea who bought her or what awaits her, and if what awaits her is nightly rape by her new owner, or his son, or his overseer, or other slaves, there is absolutely nothing you can do about it and any court in the world would at best laugh at you and show you the door.*
In any case, I first heard the story of Black Minerva at M’cello while on a tour of Mulberry Row waiting for my appointed time to tour the mansion. By the time I got to the mansion I hated Jefferson and saw in every marble bust and every portrait and every set of silk bedclothes and every clock and every gold or silver shoe buckle the whole Oskar Schindler thing of "They’d have given you a slave for that buckle… at least a child, they’d surely have given you a child- an Italian artisan worked for months on that bust, you could have bought Minerva’s youngest son or grandchild for what you paid him for a fucking decoration at one of your two mansions! THAT OTHER MANSION WOULD HAVE LIBERATED DOZENS OF THESE PEOPLE FROM THEIR FATES!
Anyway, that has none of the emotional wallop I can pack into the lecture and slideshow nor does it teach MLA, but it’s why I hate TJ. And the other Minerva is why I like him (I usually go into more detail on her and his intellectual achievements). He was living proof that you can be a great man without being a good man.
*My first wake-up call re slavery was my twin great-aunts, born in 1889, recalling a cheese and sausage maker they loved as a child called “Aunt Pig”. She was so-called because as a child she had been a very attractive light skinned slave, and her mother cut off her nose with a butcher knife, giving her a pig-like expression. It was an act of love because, to quote the aunts, “men wasn’t always kind towards colored women in those days”.