Jefferson’s Poplar Forest hosts Independence Day bash after hiatus

As befits a gathering to honor the Declaration of Independence, a sizable crowd was back to pursuing happiness out at Thomas Jefferson’s Poplar Forest on Saturday.

Last year was decidedly unhappy — because of a budget cut from the state, the foundation that oversees Jefferson’s Bedford County retreat was forced to cancel the annual Fourth of July event. This year, private sponsorship from the Boxley Materials Company allowed the party to go on.

Which was good news for Jody Ellis, of Fredericksburg, aka Signora Bella, whose means of seeking happiness includes juggling flaming objects and balancing on a slack tightrope.

“This is my 11th year,” Ellis said. “I really missed it last year.”

A veritable carnival midway, leavened with history, formed a half-circle around Jefferson’s octagonal house. There were dancers, musicians and storytellers; blacksmiths, rope makers, lacemakers and potters. And in a niche just below the new deck atop one wing of the house, Alexandrer Kensington and Charon Chenning — Otto and Tarot, professionally — were swallowing swords.

“It’s a skill that’s centuries old,” Kensington said. “In the old days, we would probably be doing this in a tavern, and then passing a hat.”

He was, he said, “self-taught. My life is just that bad.”

Chenning, on the other hand, “learned as an apprentice.”

Heather Holston and Christine Wasylkiw were learning, as well. The two University of Virginia summer students are doing their own apprenticeship at an archaeological dig on the Poplar Forest grounds.

“I’m not used to all these people,” said Holston, who lives in Alaska. “When I do a dig up there, there’s absolutely no one around.”

Wasylkiw, from Tampa, Fla., was showing off various objects unearthed during the past few weeks — buttons, beads, shards of potters “and some marbles, which showed that there was game playing going on.”

At 1:30 on the South Lawn, as per tradition, string musician Pete Vigour read the Declaration of Independence from the rear portico.

“Mr. Jefferson regrets that he was unable to attend this year,” Vigour said before delivering the fabled document in a decidedly low-key style.

This was followed by a 13-colony roll call of the signers, which also provided a clue as to the origins of the crowd (Virginia got the biggest cheer, followed by New Jersey and Maryland) and reminded everyone that Samuel Adams wasn’t just a beer. A benevolent sun bathed the lawn, studded with its curious lumpy knolls, and the warm smell of kettle corn was borne aloft by the breeze.

Mr. Jefferson missed a good party. But at least there was a party for him to miss.