Why I had not set free those bound to me in servitude

My dear friends, as you may be aware, I was schooled in the noble teachings of the Greek and Roman ancients, and though the tempests of policy and governance oft seem to rule my days, 'tis the wisdom of classical philosophy that truly steer my soul. Thus, I hold that it is the sacred gift of individual liberty that brings happiness.

For happiness need not tarry until all designs are fulfilled or great deeds accomplished; nay, it may be found in the mere act of living, wrestling with life’s trials as they come. To live freely is the paramount pursuit. Life, in its essence, is not free of trials and perplexities, for these, mingled with moments of fortune and triumph, are the very threads of existence.

Many a soul question why I had not set free those bound to me in servitude, deeming it a contradiction to my principles. Yet, you must consider the times in which I dwell—eighteenth-century Virginia. The grievous stain upon our nation’s honor is the institution of slavery, which I did not devise. It had endured through the ages, long afore my birth. Yet, as matters stand, those held in bondage, bereft of a sound societal or legal scaffold in Virginia, would find survival beyond my estate most arduous.

Take, for instance, James Hemings, my skilled chef, who, though refined by education and trained in the culinary arts of Paris, could not sustain himself even in the North. In despair, he took his own life. Yet, I permitted him—though not by law’s sanction, but by my private allowance—to return to Monticello whensoever he had need. Monticello was his refuge. Likewise, George Manly, a bondsman for whom I labored as counsel without fee and who gained his freedom, chose to serve at Monticello. Monticello was his refuge. Thus, as steward to those souls I inherited, I was bound to provide for their care, offering shelter within the confines of servitude. There is a reason why my lands never yielded much profit at all.

Were I king, I would have struck down slavery in the year of our Independence, 1776—this is an unyielding truth. But I am no monarch. I was compelled to labor alongside men of lesser vision, in an age far from ideal, where slavery was not merely tolerated but expected of men of my station and influence.

In these latter days, many revile me for holding slaves, yet as mentioned they grasp not the complexities of my time. It grieves me that some hold me in disdain for mine actions, yet I understand it is no sin for them to be mistaken, led astray, or in error. I bore such ill-informed reproaches in my own time, and I bear them still with patience.

My hope remain that future generations might study my philosophy, weigh my actions and endeavors, and come to know the truth of who I am and what I strove to achieve. Trials I had, as all men do. Yet, as I have oft said, trials are the warp and weft of life. I lived through them—enduring sorrows, tragedies, and rebukes—all whilst striving to better the lives of many, that my works might, in time, sow the seeds of happiness for ages yet to come.