The story of the Negro, the rise of the race from slavery,  | 
| I. | 
| II. | Part II 
THE NEGRO AS A SLAVE  | 
| V. | 
| VI. | 
| VII. | 
| VIII. | 
| IX. | 
| X. | 
| XI. | 
| XII. | 
| XIII. | 
| XIV. | 
| XV. | 
|  The story of the Negro, | ||

II. Part II 
THE NEGRO AS A SLAVE


CHAPTER V 
THE FIRST AND LAST SLAVE-SHIP
SOME time in August of the year 1619 a 
strange vessel entered the mouth of the 
James River, in what is now the State of 
Virginia, and, coming in with the tide, dropped anchor 
opposite the little settlement at Jamestown. This 
ship, which carried the Dutch flag, had the appearance 
of a man-of-war, but its mission, as it turned 
out, was peaceful enough, for its purpose was trade, 
and among other merchandise it carried twenty 
Negro slaves.
This Dutch man-of-war, which brought the first 
slaves to the first permanent English settlement 
in the new world, is, so far as the United States is 
concerned, the first slave-ship, for it was probably 
the first slave-trader to visit the North American 
continent.
But the twenty Africans were not the first slaves 
to reach what is now the territory of the United 
States, and the oversea African slave-trade had 
been in existence for a century before this time. 
In fact, Negro slaves were known in ancient Greece 
and Rome and regular accounts of the African slave 

In 1442 Portuguese ships brought back Moorish
prisoners from a voyage to the Coast of Africa. As
ransom the Portuguese accepted a certain amount of
gold and a number of "black Moors" with curled
hair. About this same time the Spanish merchants of
Seville began to import gold and slaves from Western
Africa. As witness to the extent of this traffic,
there is still preserved an interesting letter, written
in 1474 to the celebrated Negro, Juan de Valladolid,
also called the "Negro Count," which not only
shows that the number of these dark-skinned aliens in
Spain was at that time considerable, but gives some
idea, also, of the manner in which they were treated.
"For the many good, loyal, and signal services 
which you have done us, and do each day" the 
letter begins, "and because we know your sufficiency, 
ability, and good disposition, we constitute you 
mayoral and judge of all the Negroes and mulattoes, 
free or slaves, which are in the very loyal and noble 
city of Seville, and throughout the whole arch-bishopric 
thereof, and that the said Negroes and 
mulattoes may not hold any festivals, nor pleadings 
among themselves except before you, Juan de 
Valladolid, Negro, our judge and mayoral of the 
said Negroes and mulattoes.
"And we command," the letter continues, "that 
you, and you only, take cognisance of the disputes, 
pleadings, marriages, and other things which may 

person sufficient for that office and deserving of your
power, and you know the laws and ordinances which
ought to be kept, and we are informed that you are
of noble lineage among the said Negroes"[1] The
letter is signed Ferdinand and Isabella, King and
Queen of Spain.
When the Spanish explorers and adventurers came 
to America they brought many of these Spanish 
Negroes with them as servants and as slaves. It is 
probable that a few Negroes were sent out to the 
West Indies as early as 1501. Soon after this date, 
as shown by a letter of King Ferdinand, dated September 
15, 1505, a considerable number of slaves 
were introduced into Santo Domingo. In this letter 
the following sentence occurs: "I will send you 
more Negro slaves as you request. I think there 
may be a hundred." Here we have the beginning 
of African slavery in America, over a century before 
its introduction into Jamestown, Va.
The records show. that Negroes in 1516 worked 
with Balboa on the Isthmus of Panama; that Pizarro, 

Bishop and missionary, had Negro bodyguards.
Negroes also accompanied the expeditions of 
Vasquez de Ayllon, Narvaez, Coronado and De Soto. 
With the ill-fated expedition of Narvaez was the 
Negro Estevan, in English, Stephen. For eleven 
years, from 1528 to the year of his death, 1539, this 
Negro Stephen was with the Spanish explorers on 
the mainland of North America. He wandered 
hundreds of miles across what is now the southwestern 
part of the United States, two centuries or 
more before our western frontier touched that 
section of the country. He was a slave of one of 
the survivors of the Narvaez expedition and must 
have been a man far above the average type. In 
one of the folk-tales of the Zuni Indians he lives 
to-day, after a lapse of more than three and a half 
centuries, and one well-known writer of American 
history has called him the discoverer of Arizona.
According to the Spanish historian, Oviedo, Negroes 
were among the settlers of the Spanish colony of 
Chicora, in 1526, on what is now the coast of South 
Carolina, and this, so far as known, was the earliest 
appearance of the black man on the soil of the 
United States. In 1526, when, under Vasques de 
Ayllon, eighty-one years before the English, the 
Spaniards tried to found a settlement on the James 
River near the present sight of Jamestown, Virginia. 
Negro slaves were employed in the work. An 

Ayllon were among the causes for the failure of the
venture. African slaves accompanied the expedition
of De Soto to Florida in 1539. Negro slaves were
settled at St. Augustine, Florida, by Pedro Menendez,
in 1565. These, however, were Spanish slaves
who had been trained as artisans and cultivators of
the soil and were of a different character from
those fresh levies of labourers who were brought
direct to America from Africa.[2]
Almost nothing is known of the history of the 
ship that brought the first slaves, in 1619, to the 
settlement of Jamestown; not even its name is 
remembered. The coincidence has often been 
noted, however, that the Mayflower, which is said 
to have brought to America the first seeds of civil 
and religious liberty, reached Plymouth a year later, 
1620, so that Negro slavery is older than Anglo-Saxon 
liberty on the soil of the United States.
In reading the early history of the United States, 
I have been impressed with the fact that religious 
animosities among European people were largely 
responsible for the settlement of America.
The original thirteen states of the Union were 
very generally settled by refugees from the religious 
wars and religious persecutions of Europe, and three 
of them at least, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, 
and Maryland, were settled by religious sects who 

of religious worship.
The Scotch-Irish, who so widely settled the 
southern colonies, left their homes in Ireland to a 
large degree because of the oppression that they 
suffered in consequence of their religious faith.
North Carolina, which was one of the first of the 
English colonies to grant religious liberty to the 
persecuted sects of Europe, was frequently referred 
to as a "Quaker Colony," because of the number of 
those persecuted people who settled there.
South Carolina was also a refuge for a large number 
of Huguenots, who were the Calvinists of 
France. As an illustration of some of the milder 
forms of persecution to which these people were 
subjected in their homes, in France, because of 
their religious opinions, I may quote the following 
paragraph, from Bancroft's History of the United 
States: 
Huguenots were, therefore, to be employed no longer in 
public office; they were, as far as possible, excluded from the 
guilds of tradesmen and mechanics; and a Calvinist might not 
marry a Roman Catholic wife.[3]
It is a very curious fact that, at the very same 
time ships were leaving Europe with people who 
were seeking in America a solution and an escape 
from the religious controversies that had for centuries 
torn Europe asunder, other ships were leaving 

were to be the seeds of new conflicts and leave, as
a heritage, a new problem; a problem in many ways
as difficult and perplexing as that which faced
Europe at the beginning of the Protestant
Reformation.
Religious prejudice, transplanted to American 
soil, did not at once die out. A study of some of 
the older colonial codes will show that Quakers, 
who were nonconformists, and Catholics, who were 
not always counted as Christians, were subjected to 
restrictions which were frequently quite as severe 
as those imposed upon the free Negroes before 
the war. Under the law of Virginia in existence in 
1705, for instance, Catholics, Indians and Negro 
slaves were denied the right to appear "as witnesses 
in any case whatsoever, not being Christians," but 
this was modified somewhat in 1732, when Negroes, 
Indians, and mulattoes were admitted as witnesses 
in the trial of slaves.[4]
In one particular instance religious prejudice 
against the Catholics was curiously associated 
with prejudice, on account of race, against the Negro. 
I refer to what is known in the history of New York 
as the "Negro Plot of 1741."
In this year the city of New York was thrown 
into convulsions of excitement by the rumours of a 
conspiracy among some of the lower class of Negroes, 

Catholics, to burn the city and destroy the inhabitants.
These rumours were confirmed by a letter,
received about this time from General Oglethorpe
of Georgia, which reported that Spain had employed
a number of Catholic priests, who were to go through
the country pretending to be physicians, dancing
masters, "and other such kinds of occupations,"
who were to get the confidence of families and so
further the plans "to burn all the considerable
cities in English North America."
Shortly before this time a Spanish vessel, manned 
in part by Spanish Negroes, had been captured 
and the Negroes, although they claimed to be free, 
sold into slavery in the colony. Suspicion directed 
to one of these slaves added to the excitement. 
Among other persons arrested was a man supposed 
to be a Catholic priest. Circumstances seemed to 
connect certain other Catholics in the colony with 
the supposed conspiracy. As usual, in such instances 
of intense social commotion, fresh rumours and 
fresh suspicions added fuel to the excitement and 
before it had died away one hundred and seventy-eight 
persons were arrested, thirty-six were executed 
and seventy-one transported. Among those executed 
was the supposed Catholic priest to whom I have 
referred. Eighteen Negroes were hanged and 
fourteen were burned. They were executed in 
sight of the spot where the United States Custom 

name of Bowling Green. It occurs to me, as I am
writing this, as an illustration of the progress of the
Negro, that Charles W. Anderson, the United States
Collector of Internal Revenue, who occupies a suite
of offices in this building is a Negro.
In spite of the numerous "confessions" of white 
people and black, arrested during the period that 
the excitement lasted, there does not seem to have 
been any sufficient evidence that any conspiracy to 
burn the city existed. The explanation seems to 
be that the community was for the time labouring 
under one of those strange social delusions, like 
that which seized upon the people of New England 
during the period of the Salem witchcraft panic. 
The situation, as it existed at the height of the 
excitement, as well as the circumstances that finally 
brought the prosecutions to an end, are summed 
up in the following paragraph from Smith's "History 
of New York": 
The whole summer was spent in the prosecutions; every 
new trial led to further prosecutions: a coincidence of slight 
circumstances was magnified by the general terror into violent 
presumptions; tales collected without doors, mingling with the 
proofs given at the bar poisoned the minds of the jurors; and 
the sanguinary spirit of the day suffered no check till Mary, the 
capital informer, bewildered by frequent examinations and suggestions, 
lost her first impressions, and began to touch characters 
which malice itself did not dare to suspect.[5]

I have referred here at some length to these circumstances 
because they show that in times past 
religious prejudice, like racial prejudice, has often 
been the source of those wild fears and vague suspicions 
by which one class of people in the community 
is sometimes incited to violence against 
another and weaker class.
In spite, however, of the bitter animosities that 
once divided them, the people of the different 
religious creeds have since learned to live side by 
side in peace. Is there any sound reason why 
the white man and the black man, who, after all, 
understand one another here in America pretty 
well, should not do as much? I do not believe 
there is.
In 1741, at the time of the "Negro Plot," the 
population of New York City numbered 10,000, of 
which 2,000 were Negroes. At this time the number 
of slaves in the whole colony of Massachusetts did 
not amount to more than 3,000. The number 
in Pennsylvania had reached 11,000 in 1754, but 
in some of the more southerly colonies the 
number of slaves, particularly in proportion to 
the number of inhabitants was considerably 
larger. In South Carolina, for instance, the Negroes 
were at one time in the proportion of 22 to 12 
of the white population.[6]
 In 1740 this state 
had 40,000 slaves.

In spite of restrictions that were put upon it from 
time to time the slave-trade continued to flourish 
down to the time of the American Revolution, when 
for a time it ceased, only to leap into more vigorous 
life at the close of the war. At the beginning of the 
nineteenth century England held in all her colonies 
in the new world 800,000 slaves. France had 
250,000; Denmark 27,000; Spain and Portugal 
600,000; Holland 50,000; Sweden 600. There were 
about 900,000 slaves in the United States and about 
2,000,000 in Brazil.[7]
I was much impressed in reading some years ago 
Mungo Park's travels with his account of slavery 
as he found it in those parts of Africa which he 
visited. His description enabled me, as I thought, 
to see how easily and naturally the milder form of 
domestic slavery, which seems to have existed in 
those countries from the earliest times, had grown, 
under the influence of contact and commerce with 
European people, into foreign slave-trade. In 
other ways, also, it seems to me I have learned 
something about African slavery in America, from 
what I read of African slavery in Africa.
At the time of Park's famous journey he estimated 
that the proportion of slaves to the free population, 
in the regions through which he travelled, was 
about three to one. These slaves were of two 
descriptions: those who were born slaves and those 

war, insolvency, or as punishment for crime.
There existed at that time in Africa regular markets 
for the purchase and sale of slaves, just as they 
afterward existed at Alexandria, at Natchez, and 
New Orleans in America. Mungo Park noted, also, 
the interesting fact that in the eye of an African 
purchaser the value of a slave increased in proportion 
to his distance from his native kingdom, for the 
reason that when slaves were only a few days' journey 
from their homes they frequently succeeded in making 
their escape. On the other hand, when several 
kingdoms intervened, making escape more difficult, 
they were more easily reconciled to their situation.
The same thing was true, and for the same reason, 
during the existence of slavery in America. For 
instance, from 1820 to 1830, slaves were selling at from 
$150 to $300 each in Virginia, while during the 
same time the same slaves in New Orleans would 
be worth from $800 to $1,200. The difference was 
due, in large part, to the agricultural conditions, 
since at that time an able-bodied Negro could earn 
$200 a year for his master on a sugar plantation in 
Louisiana, over and above the cost of his keep. 
But the difference was due in a considerable degree, 
also, to the fact that in Louisiana the slave was, under 
ordinary conditions, beyond all hope of freedom.[8]

"The slaves which are purchased by Europeans 
on the coast," Mungo Park continues, "are chiefly 
of this description" (i.e., from the interior). "A few 
of them are collected in petty wars, which take place 
near the coast, but by far the greater number are 
brought down in large caravans from the inland 
countries, of which many are unknown, even by 
name, to Europeans."
It was true in Africa, as it was afterward in 
America, that slaves of mild disposition and such 
as were not disposed to run away were retained by 
their masters, while others who showed signs of 
discontent or appeared in other ways intractable, 
were disposed of in some distant state. Thus the 
domestic slave-trade merged easily and naturally 
into the foreign slave-trade and the intractable 
slaves from the interior were sent to America.
On his way back to the coast, after his long 
journey to the interior, Mungo Park joined company 
with a party of merchants on their way to the coast, 
having among other merchandise a coffle of slaves, 
which they exchanged later for European rum and 
tobacco.
These long marches of the slave-caravans and 
the methods of caring for and confining the slaves 
in the part of the country through which Mungo Park 
travelled were not unlike those which one might have 
seen fifty years ago on one of the old slave-roads, 
from Alexandria, Virginia, to Natchez, Mississippi, 

more difficult.[9]
In the course of this long and tedious journey 
from the interior of Africa to the coast, Mungo 
Park had an opportunity to become thoroughly 
acquainted with all phases of the slave-traffic, as 
it then existed, and he has given many intimate and 
interesting glimpses into the life, thoughts, and 
feelings of the unfortunate captives, whom he seemed 
to have an unusual ability to understand and sympathise 
with. Of one party of captives which, at 
one point in his journey, were added to the caravan, 
he said: 
Eleven of them confessed to me that they had been slaves from 
their infancy, but the other two refused to give any account of 
their former condition. They were all very inquisitive, but they 
viewed me at first with looks of horror, and repeatedly asked if my 
countrymen were cannibals. They were very desirous to know 
what became of the slaves after they had crossed the salt water. 
I told them they were employed in cultivating the land; but they 
would not believe me, and one of them, putting his hand upon 
the ground, said, with great simplicity: "Have you really got 

idea that the whites purchase slaves for the purpose of eating
them, or of selling them to others that they may be devoured
hereafter, naturally makes the slave contemplate a journey toward
the coast with great terror, insomuch that the 'slatees' are forced
to keep them constantly in irons and watch them very closely to
prevent their escape.
At another part of the journey one of the slaves 
belonging to the coffle, who had travelled for several 
days with great difficulty, was unable to travel farther 
and his master therefore determined to exchange him 
for a young girl belonging to the townspeople with 
whom they were stopping. "The poor girl" Park 
continues, "was ignorant of her fate until the bundles 
were all tied up in the morning, and the coffle ready 
to depart, when, coming with some other young 
women to see the coffle set out, her master took her 
by the hand and delivered her to the singing man. 
Never was a face of serenity more suddenly changed 
into deepest distress; the terror she manifested on 
having the load put upon her head and the rope 
fastened round her neck, and the sorrow with which 
she bade adieu to her companions were truly 
affecting."
This dread of the African slave of being sent down 
to the slave-markets of the coast towns is like the 
fear that constantly haunted the slaves in Maryland, 
Virginia, and the other border states, that some 
day they might be sold into the Far South. The 
most heartrending scenes of slave-life in the South 

other misfortune, were compelled to separate families
and sell them to the traders. It was not alone the
parting of children from parents, husbands from
wives, that made these scenes sad and memorable, but
frequently it was just as hard for the slaves to part
from their owners and members of his family, to
which, through years of association, they had become
deeply attached. This feeling of sorrow has found
expression in the words of an old plantation song
that originated in Virginia, the words of which
are in part as follows:
Yes, my child! Yes, my child! Yes, my child!
Going to sell us down in Georgia?
Yes, yes, yes,
Going to sell us way down in Georgia.
Yes, yes, yes!
Oh! Watch and pray!
Fare you well mother,
I must leave you.
Fare you well,
Fare you well, Mother,
I must leave you.
Fare you well.
Oh! Watch and pray!
The slave-caravan, to which Mungo Park was 
attached, finally reached the river Gambia, where 
the slaves were set on board a ship and brought down 
to the coast. At Goree one hundred and thirty, of 
whom about twenty-five had been of free condition 

to America. There being no other vessel at hand,
Park took passage on the slaver and followed the
slaves, whom he had accompanied from the interior
to their destination in America.
"My conversation with the slaves," he said, "gave 
them great comfort and, in truth they had need of 
every consolation in my power to bestow; not that 
I observed any wanton acts of cruelty practised 
either by the master or seamen toward them, but 
the mode of confining and securing Negroes in the 
American slave-ships made these poor creatures 
suffer greatly and a general sickness prevailed among 
them. Besides the three who died at Gambia, and 
six or eight while we remained at Goree, eleven 
perished at sea, and many of the survivors were 
reduced to a very weak and emaciated condition."
After 1808, when it became a crime to bring slaves 
from Africa to the United States, the conditions under 
which the trade was carried on grew worse. In the 
course of the next forty years, before the trade with 
the United States finally ended in 1862, it seems that 
every possibility of cruelty and of suffering, inherent 
in the traffic, was exhausted by the experience of 
those who were merchants and those who were 
merchandise in this iniquitous traffic. Of the 
slaves imported from the region at the mouth of the 
Niger it was estimated that one-third and often 
more perished before they reached the coast, 15 

middle passage or while they were going under the
process of seasoning, so that the number of slaves
that finally found their way to the plantations did
not, in many cases, represent more than one-third
of those who were originally torn from their homes
by slave-raiders in order to meet the demand for
labour in America.[10]
Sometimes people, enticed down to the coast 
by showing them strips of bright coloured calico, 
were seized and put on board the slave-ships. In 
other cases, after the slave-traders had successfully 
got on board a party of slaves, they seized the 
native slave-merchants themselves and carried them 
off, in turn, into slavery. I have often heard Major 
R. R. Moton, of Hampton, relate the story, which 
was told him by his grandmother, of the manner in 

African chief, was enticed on board a slave-ship and
brought to America. He had successfully brought
down to the coast and sold a party of slaves which
he had taken as captives in one of the tribal wars.
The trade concluded he was himself invited to dinner
on board the slave-ship. He was given something to
drink which put him to sleep. When he awoke he
found himself far out at sea, no longer a prince
but merely one among the number of slaves he
himself the day before had sold.
Some few years ago during a stay of a few days 
at Mobile, Alabama, I visited a little colony of 
Africans, who local tradition says are the remnants 
of the last cargo of the last slave-ship which was 
landed in the United States.
Mobile Bay during the latter days of the slave-trade 
was a favourite entrance for slave-smugglers 
to the United States. At the upper entrance of the 
bay, where the Alabama and Tombigbee rivers 
pour their waters into it through a number of different 
channels, there are many places in which it 
was possible to hide a slave-ship. It was in one of 
these ships, smuggled in through these channels, by 
which the majority of the people in the "African 
Colony" were brought to America.
In this community I met native Africans who 
still speak the old tribal language and still retain 
to some extent, I was told, their ancient tribal 

passes by his African name. He is called Ossie
Keebe. He told me his were a hill people. They
lived in the uplands of Dahomey, seven days from
the sea. There had been a war—there was always
war in those slave-raiding days, he said—and one
night their village had been captured and all who
were not killed were marched down to the sea and
sold.
When I asked this old man if he ever thought of 
returning to Africa, he replied: "Yes, I goes back to 
Africa every night, in my dreams." Meeting this 
old man whose dreams carry him back to Africa, I 
felt as if I had discovered the link by which the old 
life in Africa was connected with the new life in 
America.
The people I met in the African colony were not, 
however, the last slaves brought to the United States. 
The famous yacht, Wanderer, which carried 500 
slaves into Georgia in 1858, is supposed to have 
brought 420 slaves more in 1860. But as late as 
1862 a ship ran the blockade of Federal ships and 
landed slaves in Mobile. Far up the river in 
some remote part of that wilderness of swamp and 
water there still may be seen, I have been told, above 
the surface of the water portions of the iron work 
of the Lawrence, which was possibly the last ship 
to bring slaves into the United States. The ship was 
burned to keep it from falling into the hands of the 

in the African colony who still remember to have
played about the hull when they were boys. There
are still people living in Mobile who were brought
over as slaves upon it in 1862.
No one will ever know how many thousands of 
Africans, during the progress of the slave-trade, 
were carried from their homes in Africa to be used 
as labourers in the opening up of the new and wild 
country in North and South America. It has been 
estimated that 270,000 slaves were brought into the 
United States between the years 1808 and 1860, from 
the time that the slave-trade was legally abolished 
to the time when it practically ceased. In view of 
the fact that other estimates indicate that fifteen 
thousand slaves were smuggled into the United 
States in 1858; that at another time fifteen thousand 
slaves were brought into Texas alone in one year, 
this may be taken as a low estimate.
Even this is no indication of the number of slaves 
that were imported during this time and before into 
the West Indies and into South America. South 
America and the West Indies, like some of the 
states of the Far South, were slave-consuming 
countries, and it was necessary to constantly bring 
in new levies to keep up the supply.
I have taken some pains to examine the different 
estimates made by different writers at different 
periods of the slave-trade and for different portions 

the conclusion that the total number of slaves landed
in the western world from the beginning to the end
of the slave-trade cannot have been less than twelve
millions, and was probably much more.
Perhaps twelve millions more were taken in the 
slave-raids, perished on the way to the coast or in the 
"middle passage," or in the process of seasoning, 
so that no less than twenty-four million human beings 
were either brought to America as slaves or perished 
on the way hither. I have not examined carefully 
the figures of European emigration, but I venture 
to say that from the time America was discovered 
down to 1860, the number of white people that 
have immigrated from Europe to North and South 
America is less than the number of black people who 
were brought over in slave-ships during the same 
period.
 The organization of a quasi-independent Negro state within the limits of 
a larger controlling white state, the existence of which is suggested in this letter, 
has a parallel, I may say in passing, in Connecticut, where a state organisation 
with governor, judge and other officers formerly existed with jurisdiction over 
the minor offences of slaves. In this way the slaves of Connecticut, long before 
emancipation was seriously considered in the United States, were given a form of 
self-government. The plan seems to have been conceived by some of the older 
Negroes who exercised their office, with the consent of their masters, but also 
with the authority which their age and experience exercised over the younger 
members of the community.—"Economic Co-operation Among Negro Americans," 
Atlanta University Publications, No. 12, p. 19.
 In his history, "The Domestic Slave Trade of the Southern States," pp. 
52,101, Prof. Winfield N. Collins, of Claremont College, N. C., says:
"The number of slaves currently estimated to have been transported to the 
South and Southwest during 1835 and 1836 almost staggers belief. The Maryville, 
Tenn., Intelligencer made the statement in 1836 that, in 1835, 60,000 slaves 
passed through a Western town on their way to the Southern market. Also, in 
1836 the Virginia (Wheeling) Times says, intelligent men estimated the number 
of slaves exported from Virginia during the preceding twelve months as 120,000, of 
whom about two-thirds were carried there by their masters, leaving 40,000 to 
have been sold. . . . In the transportation of slaves the utmost precautions 
were necessary to prevent revolt or escape. When a 'coffle' or 'drove' was 
formed to undertake its march of seven or eight weeks to the South the men would 
be chained—two by two, and a chain passing through the double file and fastening 
from the right and left hands of those on either side of the chain."
 A writer quoted by Miss Kingsley (West African Studies, p. 511), says that a 
moderate allowance for loss of life between the interior and the slave-ship would 
be at least 40 per cent. This was in the region of the lower Niger, whence, according 
to Mr. Clarkson, the historian of the abolition of the slave trade, more slaves 
were taken than from all the other slave-dealing centres of the West and 
Southwest Coast of Africa.
"Death hovered always over the slave-ship," says the historian Bancroft. "The 
Negroes, as they came from the higher level to the seaside—poorly fed on the 
sad pilgrimage, sleeping at night on the damp earth without covering, and often 
reaching the coast at unfavourable seasons—imbibed the seeds of disease, which 
confinement on board ship quickened into feverish activity. There have been 
examples where one-half of them—it has been said, even, where two-thirds of 
them—perished on the passage. The total loss of life on the voyage is computed 
to have been, on the average, fifteen, certainly full twelve and one-half, in 
the hundred: the harbors of the West Indies proved fatal to four and one-half more 
out of every hundred. No scene of wretchedness could surpass a crowded slaveship 
during a storm at sea, unless it were the same ship dismasted or suffering from 
a protracted voyage and want of food, its miserable inmates tossed helplessly to 
and fro under the rays of a vertical sun, vainly gasping for a drop of water.—
"History of the United States," Vol. III, p. 405.

CHAPTER VI 
THE FIRST SLAVES
DURING a recent visit to Baltimore, Maryland, 
chance threw in my way a facsimile 
copy of an old Baltimore newspaper, the 
Maryland Journal, the first number of which was 
published August 20, 1773. This paper contained 
one or two items of news, and several advertisements 
that were peculiarly interesting to me. One of these 
advertisements, which attracted my attention, was 
about as follows:
TEN POUNDS REWARD
RAN away, on the 6th of July last, from the subscriber, living in Bond's 
forest, within eight miles of Joppa, in Baltimore County, an Irish 
Servant Man, named Owen M'Carty, about 45 years old, 5 feet 8 inches 
high, of a swarthy complexion, has long black hair, which is growing a 
little grey, and a remarkable scar under the right eye. He had on and 
took with him when he went away, a short brown coat, made of country 
manufactured cloth, lined with red flannel, with metal buttons, oznabrigs 
trowsers patched on both knees, a white shirt, an old pair of shoes, and an 
old felt hat. He was a soldier in some part of America about the time of 
Braddock's defeat, and can give a good description of the country. Whoever 
takes up the said Servant and brings him to Alexander Cowan, or 
John Clayton, Merchants, in Joppa, or to the subscriber, if he is taken in 
the County, shall receive FIVE POUNDS, and if out of the County, the above-mentioned 
TEN POUNDS, as a reward and consideration for his trouble 
and expense. Barnard Reilly.

Until a short time ago the condition of bondage 
had always been associated in my mind, as in the 
minds of most coloured people in this country, with a 
black skin. I had heard, as most schoolboys have 
heard, that centuries ago there had been white slaves 
in England and that in other parts of Europe slavery 
and serfdom had lasted to a much later period than 
in England. I remember reading somewhere the 
story of Pope Gregory who, seeing some beautiful 
English slaves exposed for sale in the Forum at Rome, 
was so impressed by their sad condition that he determined 
to undertake the conversion of Britain. 
These events, however, all belong to a remote past. 
I never had the least idea until I began to investigate 
the subject that any human being except the Indian 
and the Negro had ever been bought and sold, and 
in other respects treated as property in America. 
The fact is, however, that, although Negro slaves were 
brought to Jamestown, only twelve years after the 
first settlement there, the system of white servitude 
had preceded black slavery in both the Plymouth 
and Virginia colony. Most of the work on the 
plantations and elsewhere was performed at first by 
white servants who were imported from England and 
sold like other merchandise in the markets of the 
colony. The historian, Bancroft, says of this matter: 
Conditional servitude, under indentures or covenants, had 
from the first existed in Virginia. The servant stood to his master 
in the relation of a debtor, bound to discharge the cost of emigration 

creditors. Oppression early ensued: men who had been transported
into Virginia at the expense of eight or ten pounds, were
sometimes sold for forty, fifty, or even threescore pounds. The
supply of white servants became a regular business, and a class of
men, nicknamed "spirits," used to delude young persons, servants,
and idlers, into embarking for America, as to a land of spontaneous
plenty. White servants came to be an article of traffic. They were
sold in England to be transported, and in Virginia were sold to the
highest bidder; like Negroes they were to be purchased on shipboard,
as men buy horses at a fair. In 1672 the average price in
colonies where five years of service were due, was ten pounds
while a Negro was worth twenty or twenty-five pounds.[1]
It has often been said that the almshouses and the 
prisons were emptied to furnish labourers for the 
colonies of Virginia, South Carolina, and Georgia. 
But it was not merely the destitute and the outcast 
that were sold into servitude in the English colonies 
in America. Many of these persons were political 
prisoners and persons of quality.
"So usual," according to the same historian, "was 
this manner of dealing in Englishmen that not the 
Scots only, who were taken in the field of Dunbar, 
were sent into involuntary servitude in New England, 
but the Royalist prisoners of the battle of Worcester; 
the leaders in the insurrection of Penruddock were 
shipped to America."
At other times large numbers of Irishmen were sold 
into servitude in different parts of America. 
Because the number of slaves brought to America 

has made a profound impression upon the
world, but from all that I have been able to learn, the
sufferings endured by these unfortunate Irish bond-servants
during the course of the long voyages to
America were frequently as hard as those of the
slaves. "The crowded exportation of Irish Catholics,"
Bancroft remarks, "was a frequent event, and
was attended by aggravations hardly inferior to the
usual atrocities of the African slave-trade."
In 1685, when nearly a thousand prisoners were 
condemned to transportation for taking part in the 
insurrection of Monmouth, "men of influence at 
court scrambled for the convicted insurgents as a 
merchantable commodity."
Bond-servitude as it existed in the English colonies 
was in many respects peculiar and unlike any form 
of servitude which had existed among English people.
The first bond-servants were sent out by the London 
company, the company by which the Virginia colony 
was founded. It was not intended that servants 
should be transferred from one master to another. 
But the depressed condition of agriculture following 
the massacre of 1622, according to James Ballagh, 
compelled planters to sell their servants and thereafter 
"made the sale of servants a very common practice 
among both officers and planters."
For instance, in 1623, George Sandys, the treasurer 
of Virginia, was forced to sell the only remaining 

plantation, for one hundred and fifty pounds of
tobacco.
"Gradually," says Mr. Ballagh, "the legal personality 
of the servant was lost sight of in the disposition 
to regard him as a chattel and a part of the 
personal estate of the master, which might be 
treated and disposed of very much in the same 
way as the rest of the estate. He became thus 
rated in inventories of estates, and was disposed 
of both by will and deed along with the rest of 
the property."[2]
At the same time there grew up a systematic speculation 
in servants both in England and in Virginia. 
A servant could be transported to America for from six 
to eight pounds and sold for from forty to sixty pounds. 
London and Bristol were the chief markets for young 
men and women who were sold to shipowners who 
transported them to America and sold them.[3]
 The 
number of servants imported who were obtained in 
this and other ways was, from 1650 to 1675, when the 
trade began to decline, considerable. The number 

from 1664 amounted to 1,500 a year. And it is
said that the number sent from England to the
colonies and the West Indies amounted to 15,000
a year.
It was surprising to me to learn that a little more 
than two hundred years ago Englishmen sold the 
prisoners taken in their, civil wars in much the same 
way that the African people captured and sold people 
of their own race. But the knowledge of these facts 
has helped me to understand that when Negro 
slavery began in this country the condition of the 
African slaves was not so exceptional as it afterward 
became and as it now seems.
Under the conditions I have referred to, the gradual 
transition from white servitude to Negro slavery, 
which took place during the seventeenth and eighteenth 
centuries, came about naturally and easily. 
At first the condition of the Negro slave was in most 
respects like that of the white servant, except that 
one was a servant for a fixed period of years and the 
other was a servant for life. As time went on, however, 
the two things, black slavery and white servitude, 
began to grow apart. The condition of the 
white servant was continually improved, and the 
condition of the black slave grew steadily worse. 
The same thing which took place in Virginia took 
place in other Southern colonies. Finally, at the 
close of the eighteenth century Negro slavery had 

Southern colonies.[4]
Speaking of the causes which brought white servitude 
to an end in North Carolina, Dr. John Spencer 
Bassett, formerly Professor of History and Political 
Science in Trinity College, N. C., says: 
The incoming of Negro slaves, who, when the experimental 
stage was passed, were seen to be cheaper than the white servants, 
was probably the most powerful of all the causes of the decreased 
importation of bond-servants. The rivalry was between the whites 
and the blacks. The blacks won. It is impossible not to see in 
this an analogous process to that by which Negro slavery supplanted 
Indian slavery in the West Indies. The abuses connected with 
Indian slavery touched the conscience of the people, and the 
Negroes who could better stand slavery were introduced to replace 
it. The abuses connected with white slavery touched the hearts 
of the British people, and again the Negro was called in to bear 
the burden of the necessary labour. In each case it was a survival 
of the fittest. Both Indian slavery and white servitude were to go 
down before the black man's superior endurance, docility, and 
labour capacity.[5]
I have referred at some length to conditions of 
white servitude in the English colonies before 
the introduction of the Negro slaves in order to 
illustrate how easily and naturally the transition was 

But I confess these facts have for me another and a
different interest. It is important that the people
of my race should not gain the idea that, because they
were once in slavery, their situation is wholly exceptional.
It is important that we should bear in mind,
when we are disposed to become discouraged, that
other races have had to face, at some time in their
history, difficulties quite as great as ours. In
America Negro slavery succeeded white servitude
and it seems probable if the Negro had not been
discovered and brought to this country as a labourer
the system of white servitude would have lasted in
this country a great deal longer than it actually did.
I was interested in noting in what I have read concerning 
the relations of the races at this early period 
that the first distinctions made between the black man 
and the white man were not on the ground of race and 
colour, but on that of religion. That is no doubt 
characteristic of a time when people were divided by 
religion rather than by race. The Negroes were 
"heathen," and the law distinguished between those 
who were Christians and those who were not. For 
instance, the law declared that no Christian could be 
made a slave for life. The white bondmen were 
usually referred to as "servants," or "Christian servants," 
and were in this way distinguished from 
slaves. "The right to enslave a Negro" says Professor 
Bassett, "seems to have been based on the 

notion throughout all Christendom that it was wrong
for one Christian to enslave another, and that as soon
as a pagan was baptised he could be no longer held
as a slave. This prevented, for many years, the
work of Christianising the Negroes. So strong was
this feeling that it was necessary in several of the
colonies to pass laws expressly stating that the condition
of the slave was not changed when he was
taken into church.[6]
On the other hand, as the white servant was a 
Christian, the principle was gradually established 
that he could only be held in servitude by Christians, 
or those "who were sure to give him Christian 
usage!" "Thus free Negroes, mulattoes, or Indians," 
says Mr. Ballagh, "although Christians, were 
incapacitated from holding white servants, as also 
were infidels, 'such as Jews, Moors, and Mohammedans.' 
Where a white servant was sold to them, 
or his owner had intermarried with them, the servant 
became ipso facto free."[7]
It is a curious fact that one of the first laws passed 
discriminating against the Negro because of his 
race took away from him the right to hold a white 
man in bondage.
In Virginia and Maryland it was one hundred and 

Negro slavery. In other Southern colonies, Negro
slavery, introduced from the West Indies, was almost
from the first the only form of labour known on the
plantations.
In South Carolina an effort was made to re-establish 
serfdom, as it had existed one hundred years 
before in England, and as it still existed in Europe. 
In Georgia it was hoped, by prohibiting slavery, to 
establish a system of free labour. But in both cases 
the effort failed.
General Oglethorpe, the founder of Georgia, 
declared that slavery was "contrary to the teachings 
of the gospel and opposed to the fundamental law of 
England," and when it was proposed to introduce 
slavery into the colony he declared that "he declined 
to permit so horrid a crime." But within fifteen 
years from the founding of the colony slavery was fully 
established there and the law against it had been 
repealed.
The fact seems to be that the white "servants," 
such as the company was able to obtain from England, 
were not fitted to withstand the climate. Rev. 
William B. Stevens, formerly Professor of History 
in the University of Georgia, says that strenuous 
efforts were made to import white servants but 
"many escaped to Carolina. . . . Even the 
German servants so often pointed to as patterns of 
industry and sobriety were complained of as being 

quitting their masters', who 'were compelled
to resort to corporal punishment or other summary
means to bring them to obedience.'"
In one of the several documents prepared at that 
time, setting forth "the true state of the colony," it is 
said that so general was the sickness during the 
summer months that "hardly one-half of the servants 
or working people were even able to do their 
masters or themselves the least service; and the 
yearly sickness of each servant, generally speaking, 
cost his master as much as would have maintained 
a Negro for four years."
With the introduction of the rice planting the 
necessity of employing Africans was doubled. So 
difficult did the first settlers find the task of clearing 
the land and planting and harvesting the rice that 
one writer declares the "white servants would have 
exhausted their strength in clearing a spot for their 
own graves, and every plantation would have served 
no other purpose than a burying ground to its 
European cultivators."[8]
No doubt the black man withstood the climate, 
particularly in the states of the Lower South and 
the West Indies, and did the rough pioneer work 
that was required at that time better than the white 
man did or could. Even to-day in most of the West 
Indies, in many parts of South America, and in some 

lands of the Yazoo Delta, the Negro is almost the
only man who labours with his hands. But even
with Negro labour the work of clearing the forests
and planting the crops was carried on in those early
days with great loss of life. During the whole
period of slavery plantations in the West Indies, in
South America, and in some parts of the United States
the plantations had to be constantly recruited with
fresh levies from Africa to carry on the cultivation
of the soil.
After doing all this pioneer work, making it possible 
for other human beings to live and prosper there, 
one cannot wonder that the Negro thinks it a little 
strange that Italians and people from other parts of 
Europe and even Asia are invited into the South and 
granted privileges that even the Negro himself does 
not enjoy. Having performed a service so necessary 
and so important for the white man at a time and 
under circumstances such as other persons could 
not or would not have performed it, it is not strange 
if the Negro feels that, at least, the Southern people 
ought to deal more kindly with him than with any 
foreign race which, after nearly three hundred years 
of occupation by the white man and the black man, 
has just begun to enter this country.
Among the early colonists of the Carolinas were the 
Moravians and the Salzburgers, who were opposed 
to slavery upon religious grounds. These people 

Negro slaves. At length, however, they received a
message from the head of the church of Europe to
the effect that if they took slaves with the purpose of
receiving them into the church and leading them to
Christ, not only was this not a sin, but it might
prove a blessing.[9]
It is an interesting fact which I learned when I 
visited their community a few years ago, that the first 
person baptised among the Moravians of Salem, 
N. C., was a Negro. The Moravians of Salem 
are still among the black man's warmest friends. 
I might add that, so far as I know, the Moravian 
is the only religious sect whose missionaries ever 
voluntarily sold themselves into bondage, as did 
Leonard Dober and Tobias Leupoldt at San Crux 
in the West Indies, that they might evangelise their 
fellow slaves.
This desire to Christianise the African and give him 
the benefit of a higher civilisation was frequently, 
during slavery, offered as an excuse for importing 
African labourers to this country and holding them 
in slavery.
People differ, and will always differ no doubt, as 
to whether the desire to civilise the African was a 
sufficient excuse for bringing him to America, at the 
cost of so much suffering and expense. For my own 
part, I am disposed to believe that it was worth all 

man is here and permanently settled in the midst of
the white man's civilisation, there can be no good
reason for depriving him of the benefits of being
here. If any race other than the Anglo-Saxon has
earned a right to live in this country and to enjoy
the opportunities of American civilisation, it seems
to me the Negro has earned that right.
One who has not studied the economic conditions 
under which the first slaves lived and laboured cannot 
understand the enormous service that the Negro 
performed for the civilisation of America during these 
early and pioneer days.
The Indian, both in North and South America, was 
pressed into the service of the white man, but he 
was not equal to the task and perished under the 
hard conditions in which he was compelled to labour.
Concerning the value of the Negro in Brazil, 
Heinrich Handlemann, the German historian of 
that country, says: "The service of the African 
under conditions as they then existed was, in fact, 
indispensable. On the other hand, the Indians, 
either as slaves or as free labourers, were always 
poor labourers, without industry and without 
persistence."
In Brazil, in Cuba, and in other portions of the 
West Indies, one Negro as a labourer was counted 
equal to four Indians.[10]

It seems to be equally true that no part of the white 
race was equal to the task which the Negro performed 
in the forests and in the sugar, rice, and cotton fields 
of the far South. Repeated attempts were made to 
bring in white labourers to perform the work of the 
Negro, but without success.
In his history of Louisiana, Gayarré mentions the 
fact that about 1718 John Law, the author of the 
great speculation in Louisiana lands, agreed to bring 
1,600 Germans to Louisiana and settle them on a 
concession of twelve miles square granted to him 
on the Arkansas River. Other grants were made 
upon the same terms. In accordance with the 
terms of the grant the Mississippi Company, of which 
Law was the head, sent out a number of German 
peasants, but they were soon swept away by the 
climate. Several different attempts of this kind 
were made and when they failed it was determined 
to bring Negroes direct from Africa. Vessels were 
accordingly sent out and brought back cargoes of 
Negro slaves, who were distributed among the 
inhabitants. By 1728 there were 2,600 Negroes in 
the colony and lands were rising in value.
Early attempts were made to introduce German 
labourers into some of the more tropical states of 
Brazil, but they "perished wholesale of famine and 
hardships of all kinds." In 1764, 400 exiled 
Acadians were settled in the region known as St. 
Nicholas, Haiti, but they were unable to stand the 

the same time 2,400 Germans founded there the
state of Bombardopolis, but they met the same fate.
Some of them accompanied the Acadians to Louisiana,
where traces of them still remain. The others
who survived were soon absorbed by the black population
about them and it is said that some of their
descendants of mixed blood may still be found
inhabiting the district.[11]
The history of the first attempt to settle German 
peasants in Louisiana reminds me of an interesting 
story told by George W. Cable in his book of "Strange 
True Stories of Louisiana." The incidents to which 
I refer occurred in connection with another and later 
German immigration, when some poor people were 
sent over, not as settlers, but as labourers, to 
Louisiana.
Some time early in the last century a shipload of 
these Germans arrived in New Orleans. Many of 
them were respectable people who had paid their 
own way to America. Others had been sent over 
with the understanding that they were to work out 
their passage after they reached this country. The 
journey was a hard one; there had been a great deal 
of sickness, and, as was often the case among those 
early immigrants, many of them had died. When 
they arrived in port they were sold, much after the 
fashion of the bond-servants of Virginia, for a period 

those who had paid their way and were entitled to
their freedom were sold with the rest. Among
these was a little girl, who had lost both her father
and mother on the journey to America. She was
sold as a servant, upon the landing of the ship, and
years passed before her friends again got any trace
of her. She was at this time a slave. She had no
memory of her parents, nor of a time when she had
been free. She believed herself to be a Negro and
called herself a "yellow gal." Her resemblance to
her mother was, however, so great that her friends
began proceedings to secure her freedom, and after
a long trial, lasting years, her identity was finally
established and she was freed.
One thing that made it difficult to prove that she 
was free was the fact that at this time so many others 
of the slaves in Louisiana were as white as she. It 
was testified that the man who owned her had 
several other slaves upon his plantation who were 
white.
I mention this story here because it is one of the 
curious facts that have happened in connection with 
African slavery and because it illustrates how close 
the servitude of the white man brought him to the 
condition of the Negro slave. To a very large extent 
the curse of slavery rested not merely upon the 
African but upon every man who worked with his 
hands.

In the same way and to the same extent the uplifting 
of the Negro in the South means the uplifting of 
labour there; for the cause of the Negro is the cause 
of the man who is farthest down everywhere in the 
world. Educate him, give him character, and make 
him efficient as a labourer, and every other portion of 
the community will be lifted higher. Degrade the 
Negro, hold him in peonage, ignorance, or any other 
form of slavery and the great mass of the people in 
the community will be held down with him. It is 
not possible for one man to hold another man down 
in the ditch without staying down there with him.
 Bristol, which was the last to give up the practice of selling bond-servants 
to the English colonies in America, had been six hundred years before, at the 
time of the Norman Conquest, the chief stronghold of the slave-trade. At that 
time any one who had more children or more servants than he could keep, took 
them to the market-place at Bristol. A historian of that time, William of 
Malmesbury, says that it was no uncommon thing to behold young girls exposed 
for sale in the Bristol market, in the days when Ireland was the greatest mart 
for English slaves.—Greene's "Short History of the English People," Vol. I., 
p. 110. "History for Ready Reference," Lamed, Vol. I., p. 317.
 The condition of the apprenticed servants in Virginia differed from that of 
slaves chiefly in the duration of their bondage, and the laws of the colony favoured 
their early enfranchisement. . . . Had no other form of servitude been known 
in Virginia than such as had been tolerated in Europe, every difficulty would have 
been promptly obviated by the benevolent spirit of colonial legislation. But a 
new problem in the history was now to be solved. For the first time the Ethiopian 
and the Caucasian races were to meet together in nearly equal numbers beneath 
a temperate zone.—Bancroft, "History of the United States," Vol. I., pp. 176, 
177.
 "Slavery and Servitude in the Colony of North Carolina," Johns Hopkins 
University Studies, p. 77.
 "Slavery and Servitude in the Colony of North Carolina," Johns Hopkins 
University Studies, p. 45 et seq.

VII 
THE INDIAN AND THE NEGRO
SHORTLY after I went back to Hampton Institute, 
in 1879, to take a further course of 
study, General Armstrong, the head of that 
institution, decided to try the experiment of bringing 
some Indian boys from the Western states and giving 
them an opportunity, along with the Negro, to get 
the benefits of the kind of education that Hampton 
Institute was giving. He secured from the reservations 
something over one hundred wild, and for 
the most part entirely unlettered, Indians, and then 
he appointed me to take charge of these young men. 
I was to live in the same building with them, look 
after the discipline, take charge of their rooms, and 
in general act as a sort of "house father" to them.
This was my first acquaintance with the Indians. 
I do not know that I had ever seen an Indian previous 
to this time, although I had read something of them 
and had become greatly interested in their history. 
During the few years that I was in charge of these 
Indian boys I had an opportunity to study them close 
at hand, and to get an insight into their characters. 
At the same time I had an opportunity to compare 

their conduct generally, with the Negro boys by
whom they were surrounded. Within a short time
I noticed that, in spite of the great differences between
them, each race seemed to have acquired a
genuine regard and respect for the other. This is
the more remarkable from the fact that the Indian,
as he comes from the reservations, is very proud;
feels himself superior to the white man, and is very
doubtful about the value of the white man's civilisation
that he has been sent to study. Of course,
he naturally feels very much superior to the Negro,
for one reason because he knows that the Negro
has been at one time held in slavery by the white
man.
At this time I had no idea of the close and intimate 
relations into which the Indian and the Negro had 
been brought at various times and in various places 
during the history of their life together in the Western 
world. The association of the Negro with the Indian 
has been so intimate and varied on this continent, 
and the similarities as well as the differences of their 
fortunes and character are so striking, that I am 
tempted to enter at some length into a discussion of 
the relations of each to the other, and to the white 
man in this country.
Recently I heard a story which illustrates to a 
certain extent what these relations of the three races 
are at the present time. The story was told me by 

Indians and an equal number of Negroes. They
had been together for some time, and had managed
to get pretty well acquainted with one another. One
day, while the teacher was discussing with them some
facts in their history in which he referred to the contribution
that each of the races had made to the
civilisation in this country, he called upon one of the
Indians to tell the class what seemed to him the good
qualities of the Negroes, as he understood them.
This young Indian seemed to have discovered a
number of valuable qualities in the Negro. He
referred to his patience, to his aptitude for music,
to his desire to learn, etc. Then the teacher called
upon one of the Negro students to tell what
qualities he had discovered in the Indian that he
regarded as admirable and worth cultivating. He
referred to his courage, to his high sense of honour,
and to his pride of race. After this, the teacher called
upon any one in the class to stand up and tell them
in what respects he thought the white man was
superior. The teacher waited for a few moments,
but no member of the class rose. Then he spoke
again to the class, asking them if there was no one
there who was willing and able to say a word for the
white race. But, to his surprise, not one of the class
had a word to say.
This comparatively trivial incident illustrates, I 
suspect, pretty well the relations that now exist in this 

Negro, and the white man. One of the first things
that a student of another race learns, when he begins
to study the history, the literature, and the traditions
of the Anglo-Saxon, is the superiority which that race
has, or feels it has, over all others. No doubt these
boys, both the Indian and the Negro, had been made
to feel this superiority. It had led them, perhaps, to
have a special interest in one another, and given each
a desire to discover and note the qualities that were
rare and valuable in the other. They had never
learned to note the valuable qualities in the white race,
because they had been made to feel that the white
race did not need, and perhaps did not deserve, their
sympathy. It was to me an interesting illustration of
the way in which all the dark-coloured people of this
country, no matter how different in disposition or in
temperament they may be, are being drawn together
in sympathy and interest in the presence of the prejudice
of the white man against all other people of a
different colour from his own.
As a matter of fact, the Negro and the Indian have 
been in very close and very intimate association in 
America from the first. The Negro was introduced 
as a labourer in the West Indies, in the first instance, 
to take the place of the native Indian, who was the 
first slave in America. But Indian slavery in the 
West Indies, South America and in North America 
did not by any means cease upon the first appearance 

nearly all the native population of the islands of Cuba
and Haiti, in working the mines, they sent out
slave-raiders to the coasts of Florida, to the other
West Indies, and to the coast of South America to
get Indian slaves, particularly from the stronger
Carib tribes. During the long wars between the
Spanish in Florida and the English in the Carolinas,
in which Indians took part on both sides, many
hundreds of Indian prisoners were shipped as slaves
to the West Indies.
For a long time a price was fixed on every Indian 
prisoner that should be brought into Charleston and 
the enslavement of the Indians, according to an early 
historian of the colony, "was made a profitable 
branch of trade." Not only were Indian slaves 
shipped to the West Indies but large numbers of 
them were sold into the New England colonies from 
South Carolina. For instance, in 1708 an Indian boy 
brought thirty five pounds, and an Indian girl brought 
fifteen pounds at Salem, Massachusetts, in 1710. 
So large, in fact, was, at one time, this traffic in 
Indian slaves between the southern and the northern 
provinces that in 1712 a law was passed in Massachusetts 
prohibiting the importation of Indian 
servants or slaves; the reason given for this measure 
in the preamble to the law is the bad character of 
the Indian: "being of malicious, surley, and very 
ungovernable." This law was directed especially 

others, of whom 800 were made prisoners as a result
of a war which expelled that tribe from the Carolinas.
Similar laws were passed by Pennsylvania in
1712, New Hampshire in 1714, and Connecticut
and Rhode Island in 1715.[1]
When the French troops fought and destroyed the 
Natchez Indians, under Governor Perier, in 1731, 
forty male Indians and four hundred and fifty 
women and children were sent to San Domingo, where 
they were sold as slaves. At the close of the Pequot 
War in New England something like two hundred 
of the Indians that remained were sent to the Bermuda 
Islands and exchanged for Negro slaves. An 
extensive trade in Indian slaves was carried on for 
many years with the coast of Venezuela.
During all this time, for a hundred years or more, 
the Indian and the Negro worked side by side as 
slaves. In all the laws and regulations of the Colonial 
days the same rule which was applied to the 
Indian was also applied to the Negro slaves. For 
instance, in Bishop Spangenberg's "Journal of 
Travel in North Carolina," written in 1752, it is 
stated that the law declared "whoever marries a 
Negro, Indian, mulatto, or any other person of 
mixed blood, must pay a fine of fifty pounds." In 
all other regulations that were made in the earlier 
days for the control of the slaves, mention 

Negro.
Gradually, however, as the number of Negro slaves 
increased the Indians and their descendants who were 
held in slavery were absorbed into and counted with 
the body of the Negro slaves. I venture to say that 
the amount of Indian blood in the American Negro 
is very much larger than anyone who has not investigated 
the subject would be inclined to believe. 
Very frequently I have noticed Indian features very 
distinctly marked in the students who have come to 
us, not only from the Southern states, but also from 
Cuba, Porto Rico, and the other West Indian islands. 
In some parts of South America this amalgamation 
of the two dark-skinned races has gone very much 
further than it has elsewhere. The Negro maroons 
of Dutch and British Guiana, who have established 
little republics of their own back in the mountainous 
parts of those two states are very largely mixed with 
Indians. Most of the inhabitants of Panama, I 
understand, like some of their Central American 
neighbours, are of mixed blood, the various 
elements being the Spanish, Indian, and the Negro. 
In some of the villages of the Atlantic coast side of the 
Isthmus of Panama Negroes largely outnumber the 
natives with whom they have intermingled to form 
the present population. In several of the other 
islands of the West Indies, where Negroes make up 
nearly the whole population, there are still distinct 

that formerly inhabited these islands, as, for instance,
in the islands of St. Vincent and Dominica.
A number of the Negroes of the United States, I 
might add, who have become prominent in one direction 
or another, are known to have Indian blood in 
their veins. I have heard it said, for instance, though 
I do not know it to be true, that Frederick Douglass 
had some Indian blood. It is pretty well known 
that Crispus Attucks, the leader of the Boston 
Massacre, was a runaway slave with considerable 
Indian blood in his veins. Paul Cuffe, the noted 
Negro skipper, who took the first shipload of Africans 
back to Africa, and who therefore deserves the honour 
of being the first actual coloniser of Africa by 
American Negroes, was a man of Indian ancestry. 
Among the Negroes in our day who are of Indian 
ancestry I might mention T. Thomas Fortune, who 
always speaks with pride of the fact that he has in 
his veins the fighting blood of his Seminole ancestors.
I remember hearing Mr. Fortune say that he had 
in his veins Negro, Indian, and Irish blood, and that 
sometimes these antagonistic strains fell to warring 
with each other, with very interesting results.
In many other ways besides their connection with 
slavery, the Indian and the Negro have been brought 
together in this country. In Louisiana, at different 
times, the Negroes fought with the white man against 
the Indians. At other times, the Indians conspired 

effort to throw off the yoke of slavery. In 1730 the
Chickasaw Indians conspired with some of the slaves
of New Orleans to destroy the whole white population.
The conspiracy was discovered, however, and the
leader, Samba, and seven other Negro leaders were
broken on the wheel to pay the penalty for their
crime. In Alabama the Negroes fought with the
whites against the Indians.
One of the most interesting and picturesque chapters 
in the history of the warfare of the white man and 
the Indian is that which relates the long struggle of 
the Seminoles, who were mixed with and supported 
by runaway Negroes from the plantations of Georgia 
and the Carolinas, to maintain their independence 
and preserve their territory. There is a pretty well 
established tradition that the famous Seminole chief 
Osceola, who, for a long time, had been their faithful 
friend, finally turned against the whites, because his 
Negro wife, who was the daughter of a fugitive slave, 
was captured and sold across the border into slavery.
In a recent account of the last of the unconquered 
Seminoles, who are still living in the Everglades 
of Florida, I noticed reference to an Afro-Indian, 
who apparently holds a position among these people 
corresponding to that of a sheriff, since he is 
described as executioner of the tribe.
The Cherokee Indians of Georgia were large slave-owners, 
as were also the Creek Indians of Alabama. 

westward to the Indian Territory they took a great
many of their Negro slaves with them. During the
Civil War the Indians of the Territory along with
The white people of the South, defended their right
to hold slave property, but the terms of peace freed
these slaves of the Indians as they did those of the
other Southern slave-holders, and since that time
the freedmen have been incorporated in the different
Indian nations of Indian Territory to which they
belonged as slaves.
So thoroughly have the Negroes and the Indians 
intermingled in some of the Indian nations that in 
travelling through the country nearly every Indian 
you meet seems to be, if I may judge by my own 
experience, either a Negro, or a white man.
A few years ago I visited that part of Oklahoma 
that was formerly known as Indian Territory, and 
I recall my feeling of disappointment and surprise 
when I saw almost no Indians either at the railway 
stations or in the towns that I visited, whereas I had 
expected to see the streets thronged with them. 
When I asked a man I met quite casually on the street 
where the Indians had all gone, he replied that they 
"were back in the hills."
"You know," he continued, "as soon as the Indian 
sees a whitewashed fence he thinks it is time for him 
to get out. He is afraid if he stays he will get civilised."
Now this is one respect in which the Negro, largely, 

of slavery, differs from the Indian. The Negro
has learned, during his contact with the white man
in slavery, not to be afraid of civilisation. The
result is that as soon as he sees a whitewashed fence
he tries to get next to it.
The two races, the Indian and the Negro, have often 
been compared to the disadvantage of the Negro. 
I have frequently heard it stated that the Indian 
proved himself the superior race by not submitting 
to slavery. As I have already pointed out, it is not 
exactly true that the Indian never submitted to 
slavery. What is nearer the truth is that no race 
which has not at some time or other submitted to 
slavery of some kind never succeeded in reaching 
a higher form of civilisation. It is just as true of 
the Bushmen of South Africa, as it is of the Indian, 
that they never submitted to slavery. The Bushmen, 
like the Indian, were a hunter race that obstinately 
refused to adapt themselves to new conditions, and 
the result was that when they met a stronger people 
in the Kaffir, of South Africa, they were hunted off 
the face of the earth. The same thing, or something 
like the same thing, happened in America. At the 
time that the white people of New England and of 
the Southern states were offering a bounty for every 
Indian scalp they could obtain, they were sending 
ships across the ocean to get Negro slaves to furnish 
the necessary labour for opening up the country and 

fighting the white man in the Ohio valley they
relentlessly killed the white men they captured, and,
it is said, sometimes ate them, but spared the lives
of the Negro prisoners, in order to sell them to the
French settlers in Canada and the Mississippi valley.[2]
The fact is that, so far as the Indian refused to 
become a slave of the white man, he deprived himself 
of the only method that existed at that time for getting 
possession of the white man's learning and the white 
man's civilisation. To me it seems that the patience 
of the Negro, which enabled him to endure the hardships 
of slavery, and the natural human sympathy 
of the Negro, which taught him, finally, to love the 
white man and to gain his affection in return, was 
wiser, if you can speak of it in such terms, than the 
courage and independence of the Indian which prevented 
him from doing the same.
In the long run it is not those qualities which 
make a race picturesque and interesting, but rather 
those qualities which make that race useful, that fit 
it to survive and profit from contact with a civilisation 
higher than its own. So far as I have been able to 
learn, the white man, as yet, has never been able to 

great task of civilisation. While the Negro, in
this country, at least, has steadily increased in numbers,
the Indian has steadily decreased, until at the
present time there are nearly ten million Negroes
and less than three hundred thousand Indians in the
United States. Not only has the Indian decreased
in numbers, but he has been an annual tax upon the
Government for food and clothing to the extent of
something like $10,000,000 a year, to say nothing of
the large amount spent in policing him. It has
been estimated that the entire amount expended by
the people of the United States is something more
than a billion dollars.[3]
The Negro, on the contrary, for two hundred and 
fifty years, was brought to this country at an enormous 
expense, and during that time, judging, at any rate, 
by the prices which were paid for him, the value of 

predict that when the economic history of the Negro
comes to be written it will be found that, both in this
country and in Africa, the black man has proved himself
superior as a labourer to any other people in the
same stage of civilisation.
In seeking to draw here a comparison between the 
red man and my own race I do not believe it is 
necessary for me to say that I am not influenced in 
any way by racial prejudices against the Indian. I 
think that when the first Indians were brought to 
Hampton I was disposed to feel, as most of the students 
did at that time, that since Hampton was 
established for the benefit of the Negro, the Indian 
should not have been permitted to come in. But it 
did not take me long, after getting in personal contact 
with individual Indians, to outgrow that prejudice. 
During the time that I had these young men 
under my charge, living in intimate daily contact 
with them as I did, I learned to admire the Indian.
Perhaps all of us were more kindly disposed toward 
the Indians as we learned that they, like ourselves, felt 
that they had suffered wrongs and had been oppressed. 
In this respect the presence of the Indians at Hampton 
has been, I believe, a valuable experience to the 
mass of the Negro students of the school. It taught 
me at any rate, that other races than the Negro had 
had a hard time in this country, and that was, and is, a 
valuable thing for the young men of my race to know 

that our trials and our difficulties are not wholly
exceptional and peculiar to ourselves; that, on the
contrary, other peoples have passed through the same
period of trials and have had to stand the same tests,
we shall cease to feel discouraged and embittered.
On the contrary, we shall learn to feel that in our
struggles to rise we are carrying the common burden
of humanity, and that only in helping others can we
really help ourselves. It was from my contact with
the Indian, as I remember, that I first learned the
important lesson that if I permitted myself to hate
a man because of his race I was doing a greater
wrong to myself than I could possibly do to him.
What is true of the Negro in comparison with the 
Indian is equally true in his comparison with any 
other primitive race. The fact seems to be, as I 
have said elsewhere, that the Negro is the only race 
that has been able to look the white man in the face 
during any long period of years and not only live but 
multiply.
So much has been said about Negro labour in 
this country, and so much has been said about 
Negro labour in Africa, that I feel disposed to 
quote at some length here a statement of the late 
Professor N. S. Shaler, formerly Dean of the 
Lawrence Scientific School, of Harvard University. 
Professor Shaler was not only a scientific man 
of broad and deep culture, but he was also a 

get the facts.
Professor Shaler says: 
The Negroes who came to North America had to undergo as 
complete a transition as ever fell to the lot of man, without the least 
chance to undergo an acclimatising process. They were brought 
from the hottest part of the earth to the region where the winter's 
cold is of almost arctic severity; from an exceedingly humid to a 
very dry air. They came to service under alien taskmasters, 
strange to them in speech and purpose. They had to betake 
themselves to unaccustomed food and to clothing such as they had 
never worn before. Rarely could one of the creatures find about 
him a familiar face or friend, parent or child, or any object 
that recalled his past life to him. It was an appalling change. 
Only those who know how the Negro cleaves to all the dear, 
familiar things of life, how fond he is of warmth and friendliness, 
can conceive the physical and mental shock that this introduction 
to new things meant to him. To people of our own race it would 
have meant death. But these wonderful folk appear to have withstood 
the trials of their deportation in a marvellous way. They 
showed no peculiar liability for disease. Their longevity or period 
of usefulness was not diminished, or their fecundity obviously 
impaired. So far as I have been able to learn, nostalgia was not 
a source of mortality, as it would have been with any Aryan population. 
The price they brought in the market, and the satisfaction 
of their purchasers with their qualities, show that they were from 
the first almost ideal labourers.
A little further on Professor Shaler compares the 
Indian as a labourer with the Negro, pointing out 
the superiority of the black over the red man in 
this respect. It should be remembered in this 
connection, however, that almost everywhere, in 
Africa, the Negro before coming to America had 

He already had possession of some of the fundamental
industries, like agriculture and the smelting of ores,
while the system of slavery existing everywhere in
Africa had long accustomed large portions of the
population to the habit of systematic labour.
The Indians who first met the white man on this 
continent do not seem to have held slaves until they 
first learned to do so from him. It is interesting to 
note also that Indian slavery, as practised by both 
the white man and the Indian, seems to have maintained 
itself among the French population in the 
Mississippi valley and in Canada for a considerable 
time after it had begun to die out in the English seaboard 
colonies. Speaking of the Indian, as compared 
with the Negro slave, Professor Shaler says: 
If we compare the Algonquin Indian, in appearance a sturdy 
fellow, with these Negroes, we see of what stuff the blacks are made. 
A touch of housework and of honest toil took the breath of the 
aborigines away, but these tropical exotics fell to their tasks and 
trials far better than the men of our own kind could have done. 
. . . Moreover, the production of good tobacco requires 
much care, which extends over about a year from the time the seed 
is planted. Some parts of the work demand a measure of judgment 
such as intelligent Negroes readily acquire. They are, indeed, 
better fitted for the task than white men, for they are commonly 
more interested in their tasks than whites of the labouring class. 
The result was that before the period of the Revolutionary War 
slavery was firmly established in the tobacco-planting colonies of 
Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina; it was already the foundation 
of their only considerable industry. . . . This industry 
(cotton), even more than that of raising tobacco, called for abundant 

in the season of extreme heat. For this work the Negro proved to
be the only fit man, for while the whites can do this work, they
prefer other employment. Thus it came about that the power
of slavery in this country became rooted in its soil. The facts
show that, based on an ample foundation of experience, the judgment
of the Southern people was to the effect that this creature
of the tropics was a better labourer in their fields than the men of
their own race.
Referring to what he calls "the failure of the white 
man to take a larger share in the agriculture of the 
South," Professor Shaler says of the Negro as a 
farm labourer: 
Much has been said about the dislike of the white man for work 
in association with Negroes. The failure of the white to have a 
larger share in the agriculture of the South has been attributed to 
this cause. This seems to be clearly an error. The dislike to the 
association of races in labour is, in the slaveholding states, less than 
in the North. There can be no question that if the Southern folk 
could have made white labourers profitable they would have preferred 
to employ them, for the reason that they would have required 
less fixed capital for their operation. The fact was and is, that 
the Negro is there a better labouring man in the field than the white. 
Under the conditions he is more enduring, more contented, and 
more trustworthy than the men of our own race.[4]
I have written at some length of the relations of the 
Negro and the Indian in this country because these 
relations are interesting in themselves and because 
they show how thoroughly the Negro, by uniting himself 
with the indigenous population of the country, 
has knitted himself into the life and rooted himself in 
the soil of America. I think I am perfectly safe in 

more of the blood of the original American in him
than any other race on this continent, other than
the native Indian himself. In fact, if we confine
ourselves to certain parts of the West Indies
and South America, the Negro is the only man who
can still be said to represent, by inheritance of blood,
the original American.
I have taken some pains to find out, as near as I 
was able, from the imperfect statistics at hand, the 
actual number of people of African descent in the 
Western world. Including the ten million persons 
of Negro blood in the United States, I believe I am 
safe in saying that there are in North and South 
America and the West Indies no less than twenty-one 
million descendants of the original slaves who 
were brought from Africa during the period of two 
hundred and fifty years in which the slave-trade 
existed.
 It adds something to our notion of the condition of life in the early days in 
this country when slavery was first established, if we recall that many of the Indians 
of the United States were cannibals when the white man first met them. "For 
the purpose of terrifying their Indian enemies, the French commanders used to 
threaten to turn them over to the friendly Indians to be eaten, and they did not 
hesitate to carry out their threats when they wished to please their anthropophagous 
allies."—"Indiana: A Redemption from Slavery," J. P. Dunn, Jr., pp. 
23,24.
 The expenditure of the United States for these wards of the nation, in the 
fiscal year ending June 30,1902, aggregated $10,049,584.86. From July 4,1776, 
to June 30, 1890, the civil expenditures of the Government on account of the 
Indians aggregated a little more than $250,000,000.
The Indian wars of the United States have been more than forty in number. 
It is estimated that they have cost the lives of some 19,000 white men, women, 
and children, and of more than 30,000 Indians. The military expenditures 
have exceeded the civil expenditures doubtless more than four to one. It is 
impossible to get at thoroughly trustworthy statistics, but it is estimated that 
something like two-thirds of the total expense of the army of the United States 
from 1789 to 1890, save during periods of foreign and civil wars, is directly or 
indirectly chargeable to the Indian account. Upon this basis, the total is more 
than $800,000,000. Add thereto the civil list, and we have more than a billion 
dollars expended on account of the Indians within a century and a quarter of 
our national existence. . . . A comparison of the military and the civil 
expenditures as above stated would indicate that it was much cheaper to support 
the Indian than to fight him. . . . History of the United States, Avery. 
Appendix, p. 361.

CHAPTER VIII 
THE NEGRO'S LIFE IN SLAVERY
SOME years ago one of the frequent subjects of 
discussion among the white people and the 
coloured people was the question: Who was 
responsible for slavery in America? Some people 
said the English government was the guilty party, 
because England would not let the colonies abolish 
the slave-trade when they wanted to. Others 
said the New England colonies were just as deep 
in the mire as England or the Southern states, 
because for many years a very large share of the 
trade was carried on in New England ships.
As a matter of fact there were, as near as I have 
been able to learn, three parties who were directly 
responsible for the slavery of the Negro in the 
United States. First of all there was the Negro 
himself. It should not be forgotten that it was the 
African who, for the most part, carried on the slave-raids 
by means of which his fellow African was 
captured and brought down to the coast for sale. 
When, some months ago, the Liberian embassy 
visited the United States, Vice-President Dossen 
explained to me that one reason why Liberia had 

of its existence was the fact that for many years
the little state had been engaged in a life-and-death
struggle with native slave-traders who had
been accustomed for centuries to ship their slaves
from Liberian ports and were unwilling to give up
the practice. It was only after the slave-trade had
entirely ceased, he said, that Liberia had begun
to exercise an influence upon the masses of the
native peoples within its jurisdiction.
The second party to slavery was the slave-trader 
who, at first, as a rule, was an Englishman or a 
Northern white man. During the Colonial period, 
for instance, Newport, Rhode Island, was the 
principal headquarters of the slave-trade in this 
country. At one time Rhode Island had one hundred 
and fifty vessels engaged in the traffic. Down 
to 1860 Northern capital was very largely invested 
in the slave-trade, and New York was the port from 
which most of the American slave-smugglers fitted 
out.
Finally there was the Southern white man who 
owned and worked the bulk of the slaves, and was 
responsible for what we now ordinarily understand 
as the slave-system. It would be just as much a 
mistake, however, to assume that the South was 
ever solidly in favour of slavery as it is to assume 
that the North was always solidly against it. Thousands 
of persons in the Southern states were 

G. Birney, of Alabama, took their slaves North in
order to free them, and afterward became leaders
in the anti-slavery struggle.
Like every other human thing, there is more 
than one side to slavery and more than one way of 
looking at it. For instance, as defined in the slave-laws 
in what was known as the Slave Code, slavery 
was pretty much the same at all times all over the 
South. The regulations imposed upon master and 
upon slave were, in several particulars, different 
for the different states. On the whole, however, 
as a legal institution, slavery was the same everywhere.
On the other hand, actual conditions were not 
only different in every part of the country, but they 
were likely to be different on every separate plantation. 
Every plantation was, to a certain extent, a 
little kingdom by itself, and life there was what the 
people who were bound together in the plantation 
community made it. The law and the custom of 
the neighbourhood regulated, to a certain extent, 
the treatment which the master gave his slave. 
For instance, in the part of Virginia where I lived 
both white people and coloured people looked with 
contempt upon the man who had the reputation of 
not giving his slaves enough to eat. If a slave 
went to an adjoining plantation for something to 
eat, the reputation of his master was damned in that 

was a little independent state, and one master
was very little disposed to interfere with the affairs
of another.
The account that one gets of slavery from the 
laws that were passed for the government of slaves 
show that institution up on its worst side. No 
harsher judgment was ever passed on slavery, so 
far as I know, than that which will be found in the 
decision of a justice of the Supreme Court of 
North Carolina in summing up the law in a case 
in which the relations of master and slave were 
defined.
The case I refer to, which was tried in 1829, was 
one in which the master, who was the defendant, 
was indicted for beating his slave. The decision, 
which acquitted him, affirmed the master's right 
to inflict any kind of punishment upon his slave 
short of death. The grounds upon which this 
judgment was based were that in the whole history 
of slavery there had been no such prosecution of a 
master for punishing a slave, and, in the words of 
the decision, "against this general opinion in the 
community the court could not hold."
It was a mistake, the decision continued, to say 
that the relations of the master and slave were 
like that of a parent and child. The object of 
the parent in training his son was to render him fit 
to live the life of a free man, and, as a means to 

With the case of the slave it was different.
There could be no sense in addressing moral considerations
to a slave. Chief-Justice Ruffin, of
North Carolina, summed up his opinion upon this
point in these words:
The end is the profit of the master, his security, and the public 
safety; the subject, one doomed in his own person and his posterity 
to live without knowledge and without the capacity to make 
anything his own, and to toil that another may reap the fruits. 
What moral consideration shall be addressed to such a being to 
convince him, what it is impossible but that the most stupid must 
feel and know can never be true—that he is thus to labour upon a 
principle of natural duty, or for the sake of his own personal 
happiness. Such services can only be expected from one who has 
no will of his own, who surrenders his will in implicit obedience 
to that of another. Such obedience is the consequence only of 
uncontrolled authority over the body. There is nothing else which 
can operate to produce the effect. The power of the master must 
be absolute to render the submission of the slave perfect.
In making this decision Justice Ruffin did not 
attempt to justify the rule he had laid down on 
moral grounds. "As a principle of right," he said, 
"every person in his retirement must repudiate it. 
But in the actual condition of things it must be 
so; there is no remedy. This discipline belongs to 
the state of slavery. It constitutes the curse of 
slavery both to the bond and free portion of our 
population."[1]
This decision brings out into plain view an idea that 

the idea, namely, that one man's evil is another
man's good. The history of slavery, if it proves anything,
proves that just the opposite is true, namely,
that evil breeds evil, just as disease breeds disease,
and that a wrong committed upon one portion of a
community will, in the long run, surely react upon
the other portion of that community.
There was a very great difference between the 
life of the slave on the small plantations in the 
uplands and upon the big plantations along the 
coasts. To illustrate, the plantation upon which I 
was born, in Franklin County, Va., had, as I remember, 
only six slaves. My master and his sons all 
worked together side by side with his slaves. In 
this way we all grew up together, very much 
like members of one big family. There was no 
overseer, and we got to know our master and he 
to know us. The big plantations along the 
coasts were usually carried on under the direction 
of an overseer. The master and his 
family were away for a large part of the year. 
Personal relation between them could hardly be 
said to exist.
John C. Calhoun, South Carolina's greatest 
statesman, was brought up on a plantation not very 
much different from the one upon which I was 
raised. One of his biographers relates how Patrick 
Calhoun, John C. Calhoun's father, returning from 

on horseback behind him a young African freshly
imported in some English or New England vessel.
The children in the neighbourhood and, no doubt,
some of the older people, had never before seen a
black man. He was the first one brought into that
part of the country. Patrick Calhoun gave him the
name of Adam. Some time later he got for him a
wife. One of the children of the black man, Adam,
was named Swaney. He grew up on the plantation
with John C. Calhoun, and was for many years
his playmate. Swaney lived to a great age, and in
after years used to be fond of talking about the early
years that he and John Calhoun had spent together.
They hunted and fished together, and worked
together in the fields.
"We worked in the field," Swaney is reported 
to have said, "and many a time in the hot 
brilin' sun me and Marse John has ploughed 
together."
I have taken these facts from an account of Calhoun's 
early life by Colonel W. Pinkney Stark, who 
has given, besides, a very excellent account of the 
institution of slavery as it existed in the early days 
in that part of the country in which he lived. At that 
time and in that part of the country the planter 
worked his own plantation. The overseer did not 
come in until later, and Colonel Stark believes that 
"whatever was most harsh in the institution of 

He says:
Not far from the Calhoun settlement lived a man who had 
ridden with Sumter in the old war for liberty. During a long 
and active life he managed the business of the plantation himself. 
Toward the close of his life he consented to try an overseer, but 
in every case some difficulty soon arose between the middleman 
and the Negroes, in which the old planter invariably took sides 
with the latter and rid himself of the proxy. On rainy days 
the Negro women spun raw cotton into yarn, which was woven 
by his own weaver into summer goods, to be cut by a seamstress, 
and made by the other women, assisted by her, into clothing for 
the "people." The sheep were shorn and the wool treated in 
the same fashion for winter clothing. The hides of cattle eaten on 
the place were tanned into leather and made into shoes by his own 
shoemaker. He had his own carpenters, wheelwrights, and blacksmiths, 
and besides cattle and sheep the old planter raised his own 
stock of horses and mules. He grew his own wheat for flour, 
besides raising other small grain, corn, and cotton. He distilled 
his own brandy from peaches and sweetened it with honey manufactured 
by his home bees. His Negroes were well fed and clothed, 
carefully attended to in sickness, virtually free in old age, and 
supported in comfort till their death. The moral law against 
adultery was sternly enforced, and no divorce allowed. His 
people were encouraged to enjoy themselves in all reasonable 
ways. They went to a Methodist church in the neighbourhood 
on Sunday, and had besides a preacher of their own, raised on the 
place. The young people were supplied with necessary fiddling 
and dancing. I was present when he died, and heard him say 
to his son that he would leave him a property honestly made and not 
burdened with a dollar indebtedness. His family and friends 
gathered about his bedside when the time had come for him to 
go. Having taken leave of his friends, he ordered his Negro 
labourers to be summoned from the field to take farewell of him. 
When they arrived he was speechless and motionless, but sensible 
of all that was occurring, as could be seen from his look of intelligence. 

filing by him in succession took each in turn the limp hand of
their dying master, and affectionately pressing it for a moment,
thanked him for his goodness, commended him to God, and bade
him farewell.
The faithful discharge of the duties of the proprietor of a 
plantation in former times demanded administrative as well as 
moral qualities of a high order. There was never a better 
school for the education of statesmen than the administration 
of a Southern plantation under the former régime. A well-governed 
plantation was a well-ordered little independent 
state. Surrounded with such environments, Calhoun grew 
at this school.[2]
The conditions of the Negro slave were harder on 
some of the big plantations in the Far South than 
they were elsewhere. That region was peopled 
by an enterprising class of persons, of whom many 
came from Virginia, bringing their slaves with them. 
The soil was rich, the planters were making money 
fast, the country was rough and unsettled, and there 
was undoubtedly a disposition to treat the slaves as 
mere factors in the production of corn, cotton, and 
sugar.[3]

And yet there were plantations in this region 
where the relations between master and slave 
seem to have been as happy as one could ask 
or expect under the circumstances. On some 
of the large estates in Alabama and Mississippi 
which were far removed from the influence of the 
city, and sometimes in the midst of a wilderness, 
master and slaves frequently lived together under 
conditions that were genuinely patriarchal. But 
on such plantations there was, as a rule, no 
overseer.
As an example of the large plantations on 
which the relations between master and slave were 
normal and happy I might mention those of the 
former President of the Confederacy, Jefferson 
Davis, and his brother, Joseph Davis, in Warren 
County, Mississippi.
The history of the Davis family and of the way 
in which their plantations, the "Hurricane" and 
"Brierfield," came into existence is typical. The 
ancestors of the President of the Confederacy came 
originally from Wales. They settled first in Georgia, 
emigrated thence to Kentucky, and finally settled 
in the rich lands of Mississippi. In 1818 Joseph 
Davis, who was at that time a lawyer in Vicksburg, 
attracted by the rich bottom-lands along the 
Mississippi, took his father's slaves and went 
down the river, thirty-six miles below Vicksburg, 
to the place which is now called "Davis's Bend." 

it for cultivation.
At that time there were no steamboats on the 
Mississippi River, and the country was so wild 
that people travelled through the lonely forests 
mostly on horseback. In the course of a few years 
Mr. Davis, with the aid of his slaves, succeeded in 
building up a plantation of about five thousand 
acres, and became, before his death, a very wealthy 
man. One day he went down to Natchez and 
purchased in the market there a young Negro who 
afterward became known as Ben Montgomery. 
This young man had been sold South from North 
Carolina, and because, perhaps, he had heard, as 
most of the slaves had, of the hard treatment that 
was to be expected on the big, lonesome plantations, 
had made up his mind to remain in the city. The 
first thing he did, therefore, when Mr. Davis brought 
him home, was to run away. Mr. Davis succeeded 
in getting hold of him again, brought him back to 
the plantation, and then, as Isaiah, Benjamin Montgomery's 
son, has told me, Mr. Davis "came to an 
understanding" with his young slave.
Just what that understanding was no one seems 
now to know exactly, but in any case, as a result 
of it, Benjamin Montgomery received a pretty fair 
education, sufficient, at any rate, to enable him in 
after years, when he came to have entire charge, 
as he soon did, of Mr. Davis's plantation, to survey 

the plantation from the waters of the Mississippi,
to draw out plans, and to compute the size of
buildings, a number of which were erected at different
times under his direction.
Mrs. Jefferson Davis, in her memoir of her husband, 
referring to Benjamin Montgomery and to 
the manner in which Joseph Davis conducted his 
plantation, says: 
A maxim of Joseph E. Davis was: "The less people are governed, 
the more submissive they will be to control." This idea he 
carried out with his family and with his slaves. He instituted 
trial by jury of their peers, and taught them the legal form of 
holding it. His only share in the jurisdiction was the pardoning 
power. When his slave could do better for himself than by daily 
labour he was at liberty to do so, giving either in money or other 
equivalent the worth of ordinary field service. One of his slaves 
kept a variety shop, and on many occasions the family bought 
of him at his own prices. He shipped, and indeed sometimes 
purchased, the fruit crops of the Davis families, and also of other 
people in "The Bend," and in one instance credited one of us 
with $2,000 on his account. The bills were presented by him 
with promptitude and paid, as were those of others on an independent 
footing, without delay. He many times borrowed from 
his master, but was equally as exact in his dealings with his 
creditors. His sons, Thornton and Isaiah, first learned to work, 
and then were carefully taught by their father to read, write, and 
cipher, and now Ben Montgomery's sons are both responsible 
men of property; one is in business in Vicksburg, and the other 
is a thriving farmer in the West.
Some years after the settlement on the bottom-lands 
at Davis's Bend had been made, Mr. Jefferson 
Davis joined his brother and lived for several 

brothers had much the same ideas about the management
of their slaves. Both of them took personal
supervision of their estates, and Jefferson Davis,
like his brother, had a coloured man to whom he
refers as his "friend and servant, James Pemberton,"
who, until he died, seems to have had
practically the whole charge of the Brierfield plantation
in the same way that Benjamin Montgomery
had charge of the Hurricane. After the war both
of these plantations were sold for the sum of $300,000
to Benjamin Montgomery and his sons, who conducted
them for a number of years until, as a result
of floods and the low price of cotton, they were compelled
to give them up.
Thornton Montgomery afterward moved to North 
Dakota, where for a number of years he owned and 
conducted a large wheat farm of 640 acres near 
Fargo. His brother Isaiah afterward founded the 
Negro town of Mound Bayou, Miss., of which I 
shall have more to say hereafter.
As illustrating the kindly relations and good will 
which continued to exist between the ex-President 
of the Confederacy, Jefferson Davis, and his former 
slaves, both during the years that they lived together 
on the plantation and afterward, Mrs. Davis has 
printed several letters written to her by them after 
Mr. Davis's death. The following letter was written 
by Thornton Montgomery, who is at present associated 

Mound Bayou.
Miss Varina: I have watched with deep interest and solicitude 
the illness of Mr. Davis at Brierfield, his trip down on the steamer 
Leathers, and your meeting and returning with him to the residence 
of Mr. Payne, in New Orleans; and I had hoped with good 
nursing and superior medical skill, together with his great willpower 
to sustain him, he will recover. But, alas! for human endeavour, 
an over-ruling Providence has willed it otherwise. I 
appreciate your great loss, and my heart goes out to you in this 
hour of your deepest affliction.
Would that I could help you bear the burden that is yours today. 
Since I am powerless to do so, I beg that you accept my 
tenderest sympathy and condolence.
From all that I have been able to learn, the early 
slaves, and by these I mean the first generation 
which were brought to America fresh from Africa, 
seem to have remained more or less alien in customs 
and sympathy to their white masters. This 
was more particularly the case on the large plantations 
along the Carolina coast, where the slaves 
came very little in contact with their masters, and 
remained to a very large degree and for a considerable 
time merely an African colony on American soil.
But the later generations, those who knew Africa 
only by tradition, were different. Each succeeding 

expression in its original meaning—managed to
pick up more and more, as it had the opportunity,
the language, the ideas, the habits, the crafts, and
the religious conceptions of the white man, until the
life of the black man was wholly absorbed into that
of the plantation upon which he lived.
The Negro in exile from his native land neither 
pined away nor grew bitter. On the contrary, as soon 
as he was able to adjust himself to the conditions 
of his new life, his naturally cheerful and affectionate 
disposition began to assert itself. Gradually the 
natural human sympathies of the African began to 
take root in the soil of the New World and, growing 
up spontaneously, twine about the life of the white 
man by whose side the black man now found 
himself. The slave soon learned to love the 
children of his master, and they loved him in 
return. The quaint humour of the Negro helped 
to turn many a hard corner. It helped to excuse 
his mistakes and, by turning a reproof into a jest, 
to soften the resentment of his master for his faults.
Quaint and homely tales that were told around 
the fireside made the Negro cabin a place of romantic 
interest to the master's children. The simple, 
natural joy of the Negro in little things converted 
every change in the dull routine of his life into an 
event. Hog-killing time was an annual festival, 
and the corn shucking was a joyous event which 

took part in and enjoyed. These corn-shucking bees,
or whatever they may be called, took place during
the last of November or the first half of December.
They were a sort of a prelude to the festivities of
the Christmas season. Usually they were held
upon one of the larger and wealthier plantations.
After all the corn had been gathered, thousands 
of bushels, sometimes, it would be piled up in the 
shape of a mound, often to the height of fifty or 
sixty feet. Invitations would be sent around by the 
master himself to the neighbouring planters, inviting 
their slaves on a certain night to attend. 
In response to these invitations as many as one 
or two hundred men, women, and children would 
come together.
When all were assembled around the pile of corn, 
some one individual, who had already gained a 
reputation as a leader in singing, would climb on 
top of the mound and begin at once, in clear, loud 
tones, a solo—a song of the corn-shucking season 
—a kind of singing which I am sorry to say has 
very largely passed from memory and practice. 
After leading off in this way, in clear, distinct tones, 
the chorus at the base of the mound would join in, 
some hundred voices strong. The words, which 
were largely improvised, were very simple and 
suited to the occasion, and more often than not they 
had the flavour of the camp-meeting rather than 

never heard on any other occasion. There was
something wild and weird about that music, such as
I suspect will never again be heard in America.
One of these songs, as I remember, ran about 
as follows:
I.
Massa's niggers am slick and fat,Oh! Oh! Oh!
Shine just like a new beaver hat,
Oh! Oh! Oh!
REFRAIN:
Turn out here and shuck dis corn,Oh! Oh! Oh!
Biggest pile o' corn seen since I was born,
Oh! Oh! Oh!
II.
Jones's niggers am lean an' po';Oh! Oh! Oh!
Don't know whether dey get 'nough to eat or no,
Oh! Oh! Oh!
REFRAIN:
Turn out here and shuck dis corn,Oh! Oh! Oh!
Biggest pile o' corn seen since I was born,
Oh! Oh! Oh!
Little by little the slave songs, the quaint stories, 
sayings, and anecdotes of the slave's life began to 
give their quality to the life of the plantation. Half 

presence of a Negro. The homes that had no
Negro servants were dreary by contrast, and that
was not due to the fact that, ordinarily, the man who
had slaves was rich and the man who had no slaves
was poor.
The four great crops of the South—tobacco, rice, 
sugar, and cotton—were all raised by slave labour. 
In the early days it was thought that no labour 
except that of the Negro was suited to cultivate these 
great staples of Southern industry, and that opinion 
prevails pretty widely still. But it was not merely 
his quality as a labourer that made the Negro 
seem so necessary to the white man in the South; 
it was also these other qualities to which I have 
referred—his cheerfulness and sympathy, his 
humour and his fidelity. No one can honestly say 
that there was anything in the nature of the institution 
of slavery that would develop these qualities 
in a people who did not possess them. On the contrary, 
what we know about slavery elsewhere leads 
us to believe that the system would have developed 
qualities quite different, so that I think I am 
justified in saying that most of the things that 
made slavery tolerable, both to the white man and 
to the black man, were due to the native qualities 
of the African.
Southern writers, looking back and seeking to 
reproduce the genial warmth and gracious charm of 

do full justice to the part that the Negro played in it.
The late Joel Chandler Harris, for instance, has
given us in the character of "Uncle Remus" the
type of the Negro story-teller who delights and
instructs the young children of the "big house"
with his quaint animal stories that have been
handed down to the Negro by his African ancestors.
The "Br'er Rabbit" stories of Uncle Remus are
now a lasting element in the literature, not only
of the South, but of America, and they are
recognised as the peculiar contribution of the
American Negro slave to the folk-lore stories of
the world.
In my own state of Virginia, Mr. Thomas Nelson 
Page has given us, in "Uncle Billy" and "Uncle 
Sam," two typical characters worthy of study by 
those who wish to understand the human side of 
the Negro slave on the aristocratic plantations of 
that state. In Mr. Page's story, "Meh Lady," 
Uncle Billy was guide, philosopher and friend to 
his mistress and her daughter in the trying times of 
war and in their days of poverty. He hid their 
silver, refused to give information to the Union 
soldiers, prayed the last prayer with his dying 
mistress, comforted her lonely daughter, and at last 
gave her away in marriage. At the close of the 
wedding, the old man sits in front of his cabin door 
and thinks again of the old days. The musings 

quaint dialect:
An' dat night when de preacher was gone wid he wife, and 
Hannah done drapt off to sleep, I wuz settin' in de do' wid meh 
pipe, an' I heah 'em setting dyah on de front steps, dee voices 
soun'in' low like bees, an' moon sort o' meltin' over de yard, an' 
I sort o' got to studyin', an' hit 'pear like de plantation 'live 
once mo', an' de ain' no mo' scufflin', an' de ole times done come 
back ag'in, an' I heah meh kerridge-horses stompin' in de stall, 
an' de place all cleared up again, an' fence all roun' de pahsture, 
an' I smell de wet clover blossoms right good, and Marse Phil 
and Meh Lady done come back, an' running all roun' me, climbing 
up on meh knees, calling me Unc Billy, an' pestering me 
to go fishing while somehow Meh Lady and de Cun'l, setting 
dyah on de steps wid de voices hummin' low like water runnin' 
in the dark.
In the story of "Marse Chan" Mr. Page lets 
Uncle Sam, the slave bodyguard, tell in the following 
language what happened to his young master 
during the Civil War on the field of battle: 
Marse Chan he calls me, an he sez, "Sam, we 'se goin to win 
in dis battle, an den we '11 go home an' git married; an' I' m goin' 
home wid a star on my collar." An' den he sez, "Ef I'm wounded, 
kyah me, yo' hear?" An' I sez, "Yes, Marse Chan." Well, jes' 
den dey blowed boots an' saddles an' we mounted—an' dey 
said, "Charge 'em," an' my King ef ever yo' see bullets fly, dey 
did dat day. . . . We wen' down de slope, I 'long wid de 
res' an' up de hill right to de cannons, an' de fire wuz so strong 
dyah our lines sort o' broke an' stop; an' de cun'l was kilt, an' 
I b'lieve dey wuz jes' 'bout to break all to pieces wen Marse 
Chan rid up an' cotch holt de flag and hollers, "Follow 
me." . . . Yo' ain' never heah thunder. Fust thing I 
knowed de Roan roll head over heels an' flung me up 'gainst de 
bank like yo' chuck a nubbin over g'inst de foot o' de corn pile. 

'roun' de Roan was lying dyah stone dead. 'Twan' mo'n a minit,
de sorrel come gallupin' back wid his mane flying and de rein
hangin' down on one side to his knee. I jumped up an' run over
de bank an' dyah, wid a whole lot ob dead mens and some not
dead yit, on de one side o' de guns wid de flag still in he han' an' a
bullet right thru' he body, lay Marse Chan. I tu'n 'im over an' call
'im, "Marse Chan," but twan' no use. He wuz done gone home.
I pick him up in my arms wid de flag still in he han' and toted
'im back jes' like I did dat day when he wuz a baby an' ole master
gin'im to me in my arms, an' say he could trus' me, an' tell me to
tek keer on 'im long as he lived. I kyah'd 'im way off de battle-fiel'
out de way o' de balls an' I laid 'im down under a big tree
till I could git somebody to ketch de sorrel for me. He was
kotched arter a while an' I hed some money, so I got some pine
plank an' made a coffin dat evenin' an' wrap Marse Chan's body
up in de flag an' put 'im in de coffin, but I did n't nail de top on
strong, 'cause I knowed de old missus wan' to see 'im; an' I got
a' ambulance an' set out fo' home dat night. We reached dyah
de nex' evenin' arter travellin' all dat night an' all nex' day.
In the Palace of Fine Arts in St. Louis during the 
Exposition of 1904, there was a picture which made 
a deep impression on every Southern white man 
and black man who saw it, who knew enough of the 
old life to understand what it meant. Rev. A. B. 
Curry, of Memphis, Tenn., referring to this picture 
in a sermon in his home city on November 27, 
1904, said: 
When I was in the Palace of Fine Arts in St. Louis this summer, 
I saw a picture before which I stood and wept. In the distance 
was a battle scene; the dust of trampling men and horses, the 
smoke of cannon and rifles filled the air; broken carriages and 
dead and dying men strewed the ground. In the foreground was 
the figure of a stalwart Negro man, bearing in his strong arms the 

body-servant of a young Southerner, bearing the dead body of his
young master from the field of carnage, not to pause or rest till
he had delivered it to those whose love for it only surpassed his
own; and underneath the picture were these words: "Faithful
Unto Death"; and there are men before me who have seen the
spirit of that picture on more than one field of battle.
The slaves in Virginia and the border states 
were, as a rule, far superior, or at least they considered 
themselves so, to the slaves of the lower 
South. Even in freedom this feeling of superiority 
remains. Furthermore, the mansion house-servants, 
of whom Mr. Page writes, having had an 
opportunity to share to a large extent the daily life 
of their masters, were very proud of their superior 
position and advantages, and had little contact with 
the field-hands. It is perhaps not generally understood 
that in slavery days lines were drawn among 
the slaves just as they were among the white people. 
The servants owned by a rich and aristocratic 
family considered that the servants of "a poor white 
man," one who was not able to own more than 
half a dozen slaves, were not in the same social class 
with themselves. And yet the life of these more 
despised slaves had its vicissitudes, its obscure 
heroisms, and its tragedies just like the rest of the 
world. In fact, it was from the plantation hands, 
as a rule, that the most precious records of slave-life 
came—the plantation hymns. The field-hands 
sung these songs and they expressed their lives.

I have frequently met and talked with old men 
of my race who have grown up in slavery. It is 
difficult for these old men to express all that they 
feel. Occasionally, however, they will utter some 
quaint humorous turn of expression in which there 
is a serious thought underneath.
One old farmer, who owns a thousand acres of land 
not far from Tuskegee, said: "We 's jes' so ign't out 
heah, we don' see no diffarence 'twe'n freedom an' 
slav'ry, 'cept den we's workin' fer someone else, 
and now we's workin' fer oursel's."
Some time ago an old coloured man who has lived 
for a number of years near the Tuskegee Institute, 
in talking about his experience since freedom, 
remarked that the greatest difference he had found 
between slavery and freedom was that in the days 
of slavery his master had to think for him, but since 
he had been free he had to think and plan for 
himself.
At another time out in Kansas I met an old 
coloured woman who had left her home in Tennessee, 
directly after the war, and settled with a large 
number of other coloured people in what is called 
"Tennessee Town", now a suburb of Topeka, 
Kansas. In talking with her about her experiences 
in freedom and in slavery, I asked her if she did not 
sometimes feel as if she would like to go back 
to the old days and live as she had lived on the 
plantation.

"Sometimes," she replied, "I feel as I 'd like to 
go back and see my old massa and missus"—
she hesitated a moment and then added, "but 
they sold my baby down South."
Aside from the slave-songs very little has come 
down to us from slavery days that shows how 
slavery looked to the masses of the people.
There are a considerable number of slave narratives, 
written by fugitive slaves with the assistance 
of abolitionist friends, but as these were composed 
for the most part under the excitement of the antislavery 
agitation they show things, as a rule, somewhat 
out of proportion. There is one of these 
stories, however, that gives a picture of the changing 
fortunes and vicissitudes of slave-life which 
makes it especially interesting. I refer to the story 
of Charity Bower, who was born in 1779 near 
Edenton, North Carolina, and lived to a considerable 
age after she obtained her freedom. She described 
her master as very kind to his slaves. He used to 
whip them, sometimes, with a hickory switch, she 
said, but never let his overseer do so. Continuing, 
she said: 
My mother nursed all his children. She was reckoned a very 
good servant, and our mistress made it a point to give one of my 
mother's children to each one of her own. I fell to the lot of 
Elizabeth, the second daughter. Oh, my mistress was a kind 
woman. She was all the same as a mother to poor Charity. If 
Charity wanted to learn to spin, she let her learn; if Charity 
wanted to learn to knit, she let her learn; if Charity wanted to 

married, for mistress did n't like to have her people take up with
one another without any minister to marry them. . . . My
husband was a nice, good man, and mistress knew we set stores
by one another. Her children promised they never would
separate me from my husband and children. Indeed, they used
to tell me they would never sell me at all, and I am sure they meant
what they said. But my young master got into trouble. He used
to come home and sit leaning his head on his hands by the hour
together, without speaking to anybody. I see something was the
matter, and begged him to tell me what made him look so worried.
He told me he owed seventeen hundred dollars that he could not
pay, and he was afraid he should have to go to prison. I begged
him to sell me and my children, rather than to go to jail. I see
the tears come into his eyes. "I don't know, Charity," he said;
"I'll see what can be done. One thing you may feel easy about:
I will never separate you from your husband and children, let
what will come."
Two or three days after he come to me, and says he: "Charity, 
how should you like to be sold to Mr. Kinmore?" I told him I 
would rather be sold to him than to anybody else, because my 
husband belonged to him. Mr. Kinmore agreed to buy us, and 
so I and my children went there to live.
Shortly after this her new master died and her new 
mistress was not so kind to her as he had been. 
Thereupon she set to work to buy the freedom of 
her children.
"Sixteen children I've had, first and last," she 
said, "and twelve I've nursed for my mistress. 
From the time my first baby was born, I always set 
my heart upon buying freedom for some of my children. 
I thought it was more consequence to them 
than to me, for I was old and used to being a slave."

In order to save up money enough for this purpose 
she set up a little oyster board just outside her 
cabin which adjoined the open road. When anyone 
came along who wanted a few oysters and 
crackers she would leave her washing and wait 
upon them. In this way she saved up $200, but 
for some reason or other she never succeeded in 
getting her mistress's consent to buy one of the children. 
It was not always easy for a master to 
emancipate his slave in those days, even if he wanted 
to do so. On the contrary, as she says, "One 
after another—one after another—she sold 'em 
from me."
It was to a "thin, peaked-looking man who used 
to come and buy of me," she says, that she finally 
owed her freedom. "Sometimes," she continued, 
"he would say, 'Aunt Charity, you must fix me up a 
nice little mess, for I am poorly to-day.' I always 
made something good for him; and if he did n't 
happen to have any change I always trusted him."
It was this man, a Negro "speculator," who, 
according to her story, finally purchased her with 
her five children and, giving her the youngest child, 
set her free.
"Well," she ended, "after that I concluded I'd 
come to the free states. Here I am takin' in 
washing; my daughter is smart at her needle; and 
we get a very comfortable living."
There was much in slavery besides its hardship 

and beautiful. The heroic efforts that many of
the slaves made to buy their own and their children's
freedom deserve to be honoured equally with the
devotion that they frequently showed in the service
of their masters. And after all, considering the
qualities which the Negro slave developed under
trying conditions, it does not seem to me there is any
real reason why any one who wishes him well
should despair of the future of the Negro, either in
this country or elsewhere.
 That the Negroes were overtasked to the extent of being often permanently 
injured, was evident from the complaints made by the Southern agricultural 
journals against the bad policy of thus wasting human property. An Alabama 
tradesman told Olmsted that if the overseers make "plenty of cotton, the owners 
never ask how many niggers they kill"; and he gave the further information 
that a determined and perfectly relentless overseer could get almost any wages he 
demanded, for when it became known that such a man had so many bales to the 
hand, everybody would try to get him. . . .
Louisiana sugar-planters did not hesitate to avow openly that, on the whole, 
they found it the best economy to work off their stock of Negroes about once in 
seven years, and then buy an entire set of new hands.—"History of the United 
States," James Ford Rhodes, Vol. I., p. 308.

CHAPTER IX 
SLAVE INSURRECTIONS AND THE NEGRO "PERIL"
SOMETHING like twenty-five insurrections of 
the slaves took place in the United States, 
according to Professor Albert Bushnell Hart, 
previous to the American Revolution. This is taking 
no account of the outbreaks that took place 
before that time in Louisiana, nor of those that took 
place in the other Spanish, French, and English 
colonies in the West Indies.[1]
After the English invasion of Jamaica in 1655, for 
instance, the Negro slaves who had fought with 
their Spanish masters against the English, betook 
themselves to the mountains and maintained a 
number of little insurgent governments for nearly 
a hundred years until, in 1738, these independent 
governments were formally constituted and their 
right of existence recognised. They continued until 
1796, when their attempt to build roads and 
improve the condition of their villages opened 
the way for attacks by the English and resulted 
in their downfall. It is said, however, that 
even to this day some of the wild descendants 

passes of Jamaica.
The insurrection of the slaves which finally resulted 
in the establishment, in 1804, of the little Black 
Republic of Haiti was a part of the revolutionary 
movement that began in France in 1789. Much 
has been said and written about the frightful cruelties 
which characterised the revolution in this 
island, but any one who will compare what took 
place in Haiti and Santo Domingo with the events 
which took place during this period in France will 
not find, I believe, much to say, considering all of 
the circumstances, in disparagement of these revolting 
slaves and their heroic leader, Toussaint 
L'Overture.
The most important, because the most far-reaching 
in their effects, of these efforts of Negro slaves 
to gain their freedom by force, were the attempted 
insurrection of Denmark Vesey in 1822 and the 
outbreak under Nat Turner in 1831. These two 
events, following closely upon the bloody revolution 
in Haiti and the disturbances in other parts of 
the West Indies, made a profound impression upon 
the people of the Southern States.
But even before the memorable insurrection of 
Nat Turner, two Negroes, Gabriel and Jack Bowler, 
were the leaders, in 1800, of an attempted revolt in 
Virginia. These two slaves got together and organised 
something like a thousand Negroes in 

city of Richmond. A swollen stream, impassable
owing to a recent storm, forced them to halt.
They disbanded, expecting to renew the attempt
the following night, but the plot was discovered
and the citizens of Richmond were aroused before
the attack could be made. A reward was offered
for Gabriel and Jack Bowler. They were caught
and executed.
Twenty-two years later, in Charleston, S. C., 
an extensive conspiracy was organised by a free 
Negro, Denmark Vesey. Vesey was known among 
his people as a deep student of the Bible and exerted 
a marked influence over them, particularly 
through their religious meetings which, then as 
now, were of the nature of popular assemblies for 
the discussion of all questions relating to the welfare 
of the race. Vesey's plot failed of its purpose, and 
he was caught, duly tried and, with thirty-four 
others, put to death.
When a boy in Virginia I recall the stories that 
were told around the cabins by the older slave men 
and women of the "Prophet" Nat Turner, as he 
was called, and of the dreadful incidents that took 
place during the insurrection of 1831. Nat Turner 
was a slave preacher in Southampton County, 
Virginia. During his boyhood days, as I have heard, 
his mother, who was known to be a very religious 
woman, taught him that, like Moses, he was to be 

give him the advantage of what lore and learning
she possessed, and taught him verses and parts of
chapters from the Bible, particularly from the
Prophets of the Old Testament. He was nursed in
the quaint and primitive theology of the plantation
hymns, which helped to stimulate the belief in his
mission to free his people.
He grew up to be a silent, dreamy kind of 
man, going, whenever he could, to the caves of 
the mountains to brood over the condition of 
the slaves.
It appears to have been Turner's plan to collect a 
large number of slaves and take refuge in the Dismal 
Swamp, in the extreme southeastern section of 
Virginia. On August 21, 1831, with the belief 
that he was executing the will of God, Nat Turner 
started forth with six companions who were soon 
joined by others, making a force of sixty men. 
Their plan was to exterminate, as far as they were 
able, the white race about them. In a short time 
sixty white people on different plantations had been 
killed. The local militia and United States troops 
were called out. The insurgents resisted, but the 
resistance proved useless, and after more than a 
hundred of them had been killed the uprising was 
crushed. Forty-three Negroes in all were put on 
trial, of whom twenty-one were acquitted, twelve 
were convicted and sold out of the state, while 

woman, were convicted and hanged.
When the John Brown raid took place at Harper's 
Ferry in 1859, five coloured men were a part of his 
little band. Of the five men, three were free-born 
Negroes and two were fugitive slaves. Two of 
them, Dangerfield Newby and Lewis Leary, were 
killed during the fighting; John A. Copeland and 
Shields Green were captured, tried, and executed; 
Osborne Anderson was the only one to escape 
from the scene of the disaster.
Newby was tall, well-built, and about thirty years 
of age, with a pleasing face. Leary came originally 
from North Carolina and was a member of 
the colony of Southern coloured people at Oberlin, 
Ohio. He was twenty-four years of age and quite 
well educated.
Copeland, who was related to Leary, was twenty-two 
years of age and came from Oberlin. His 
letters, written from the jail to relatives, show him 
to have been a young man of intelligence and courage. 
In a letter to his brother, written shortly before his 
execution, were these words, which can be read with 
profit to-day after a lapse of nearly fifty years: 
My jailer, Captain John Avis, is a gentleman who has a heart in 
his bosom as brave as any other. He met us at Harper's Ferry 
and fought us as a brave man would do. And since we have 
been in his power he has protected us from insult and abuse 
which cowards would have heaped upon us. He has done as 
a brave man and gentleman would do. Also one of his aids, 

could to serve us. And now, Henry, if fortune should ever
throw either of them in your way, and you can confer the least
favour on them, do it for my sake.
On the morning of his execution Copeland wrote 
a long letter to his family in Oberlin from which 
the following extract is taken: 
Let me tell you that it is not the mere fact of hanging to meet 
death, if I should express regret, but that such an unjust institution 
should exist as the one which demands my life, and not my 
life only, but the lives of those to whom my life bears but the 
relative value of zero to the infinite.
Shields Green was a fugitive slave from South 
Carolina, twenty-four years of age, with no knowledge 
of letters, but he is said to have possessed considerable 
natural ability and a courage which 
showed that, if better trained, he might have become 
a man of some importance. He had come to 
Chambersburg, Pa., the meeting-place of those who 
were to aid Brown, with Frederick Douglass. 
Douglass tells how, when he turned to leave the 
Chambersburg quarry, where his interview with 
John Brown was had, that, on telling Green he 
could return with him to Rochester, N. Y., the 
Negro turned and looked at the bowed figure of 
John Brown, then asked, "Is he going to stay?"
"Yes," was the answer.
Green looked again at Brown, then at Douglass, 
and slowly said: "Well, I guess I goes wid de ole 
man."

When the fight had begun at Harper's Ferry some 
of the men soon saw that resistance was useless and 
decided to try to make their escape. Green came 
under fire while on his way to the arsenal. One of the 
men told Green he had better go with them. He 
turned and looked toward the engine-house, before 
the door of which stood its few defenders and 
asked: "You think der 's no chance?"
"Not one," was the reply.
"And de ole captain can't get away?"
"No," said the men.
"Well," he replied, slowly, with a long, lingering 
look, "I guess I 'll go back to de ole man."
In prison Green was constantly sending expressions 
of consolation and of devotion to Brown and, on 
the morning of John Brown's execution, Green sent 
him word that he was glad he came, and that he 
waited willingly for his own death.
Anderson, born free in Pennsylvania, was twenty-four 
years of age. He was well-educated and by 
trade a printer. He was a man of natural ability, 
simple in manner and address. He wrote a very 
interesting pamphlet of the raid after his escape 
entitled, "A Voice from Harper's Ferry." He 
served during the latter part of the Civil War in one 
of the Negro regiments, and died in Washington in 
1871.
The great slave insurrection which, during the 
whole period of slavery, was frequently expected 

the fear of such a general outbreak always haunted
the South and helped to harden the hearts of the
Southern people against the Negro race. This fear
was responsible, for instance, for the passage of
laws which made it difficult, if not impossible, in
many of the Southern states, for a master to emancipate
his slaves; made it a crime for him to teach
his slaves to read and write; and imposed such limitations
and burdens on the free Negroes as reduced
that unfortunate class to a condition often counted
worse than that of slavery.
In the relations which existed between the white 
man and the black man in slavery, just as in the 
relations which exist to-day between the races in 
the South, there was much that was strange and 
contradictory, much that was and is hard to understand. 
For instance, it seems to me that in Virginia, 
at any rate, the relations between master and 
slave were usually kindly. The master frequently 
trusted his slave, usually cared for and protected 
him, and had for him, in many instances, a feeling 
of genuine affection. And yet the slaveholder was 
never able to shake off his sense of danger of an 
uprising of the slaves. "The night-bell is never 
heard to toll in the city of Richmond," said John 
Randolph of Roanoke, referring to this fear, "but 
the anxious mother presses her infant more closely 
to her bosom."

As a result of his experience in slavery the Southern 
white man seems to have learned to make a 
pretty complete distinction between the individual 
Negro, whom he knows and protects, and the Negro 
as a race, whom he denounces in the political campaign 
and sometimes flaunts in the faces of strangers 
who do not understand the situation in the South. 
These two ways of looking upon and dealing with 
the Negro are well represented in the cases of ex-Governor 
Vardaman, of Mississippi, and Senator 
Tillman, of South Carolina, both of whom, ordinarily 
so violent in all their public utterances in 
regard to the Negro, are frequently spoken of by 
coloured men who know them as unusually kind in 
all their personal relations with the Negro. Mr. 
Vardaman and Mr. Tillman, it would seem, hate 
the Negro in the abstract, but they get along 
very well with the actual black man who is their 
neighbour.
It is sometimes said that the vague, impersonal 
sort of fear which the master felt for the Negro during 
slavery was due to his knowledge of the savage 
instincts of the black man which, unless proper 
precautions were taken, might at any moment break 
out and overwhelm the country. I am more inclined 
to the opinion, however, that the majority 
of the Negroes who were brought to this country, 
either because of their previous training in Africa 
or because of their natural disposition, were more 

and remain faithful to their masters, than any other
race or class of people would have been under
similar circumstances.
I am disposed to believe that the real reason why 
the white man feared the black man was because 
he felt the injustice of the condition of slavery, and 
realised that it was but human nature that, when 
the slave began to understand his position, he 
should seek to become free.
When I hear of a certain type of public man of 
the present day, either in the press or on the political 
platform, talking about the danger in which 
the white race is placed by reason of the presence 
of the Negro in this country I cannot but feel that 
these men, in their efforts to stir up prejudice 
against the Negro, are moved by a bad conscience. 
If they really believe there is danger from the Negro 
it must be because they do not intend to give him 
justice. Injustice always breeds fear.
When I hear people talking about the savage 
instincts of the Negro and about the danger with 
which they are threatened in consequence, I wish 
these people could know and talk, as I have, with 
some of the men and women who have gone as 
missionaries to Africa and have spent years of 
their life alone in the midst of the wildest and most 
uncivilised peoples of that continent, with never 
so much as a thought of fear. There are scores of 

people live surrounded by coloured people without
fear of insurrection or murder, because they have
convinced the coloured people that they want to do
the fair thing by them, that they are anxious to
help them, and to see them make progress.
I know personally of a case where for ten years
a half-dozen white women have lived in a
community surrounded by thousands of coloured
people and with no white man near to protect
them, but they have never had the least fear
of violence because they went there to help the
coloured people.
In looking into the history of these insurrections 
and conspiracies I have been impressed with the 
fact that, so far as concerns the leaders of them, 
none of these outbreaks seems to have been inspired 
by revenge or to have been due to the ill-treatment 
which the slaves had received.
Denmark Vesey was not a slave. In 1822 he 
drew a fifteen-hundred-dollar prize in a lottery and 
bought his freedom for $600. His real reason for 
organising the conspiracy of which he was the 
author seems to be revealed in the explanations he 
made to some of his fellow-conspirators in inducing 
them to join him.
"He said," according to the confession of one 
of these men, "he did not go with Creighton 
to Africa because he had not a will; he wanted 

To another witness he stated that "he was satisfied 
with his own condition, being free, but, as all 
his children were slaves, he wished to see what 
could be done for them."
Denmark Vesey was a man of some education. 
He had travelled all over the world with his master, 
who was a ship captain. In his talks with the 
slaves he not only quoted the Bible, citing the 
passage about the deliverance of the children of 
Israel, but he read the speeches in Congress, particularly 
one speech of a certain Mr. King who, 
he said, was "the black man's friend," adding that 
"he, Mr. King, had declared he would continue to 
speak, write, and publish pamphlets against slavery 
the longest day he lived, until the Southern States 
consented to emancipate their slaves, for that 
slavery was a great disgrace to the country."
Nat Turner was a very different type of man. 
He was a dreamer, as I have said, and a fanatic. 
So deeply was he himself imbued with the belief 
that he was inspired, that his presence impressed 
with a sense of awe, not merely the Negro slaves, 
but many of the white people who came in contact 
with him after his arrest and before his execution.
He is described as a man of ordinary stature, 
having "the true Negro face, every feature of which 
is strongly marked."

Mr. Gray, the gentleman who took his confession, 
says of him: 
It has been said that he was ignorant and cowardly, and that 
his object was to murder and rob for the purpose of obtaining 
money to make his escape. It is notorious that he was never 
known to have a dollar in his life, to swear an oath, or drink a 
drop of spirits. As to his ignorance, he certainly never had the 
advantages of education; but he can read and write, and for natural 
intelligence and quickness of apprehension is surpassed by 
few men I ever have seen. As to his being a coward, his reason, 
as given, for not resisting Mr. Phipps, shows the decision of his 
character. When he saw Mr. Phipps present his gun, he said he 
knew it was impossible for him to escape, as the woods were full 
of men; he therefore thought it was better for him to surrender, 
and trust to fortune for his escape.
He is a complete fanatic, or plays his part admirably. On 
other subjects he possesses an uncommon share of intelligence, 
with a mind capable of attaining anything, but warped and 
perverted by the influence of early impressions. I shall not 
attempt to describe the effect of his narrative, as told and commented 
on by himself, in the condemned hole of the prison: the 
calm, deliberate composure with which he spoke of his late 
deeds and intentions; the expression of his fiend-like face when 
excited by enthusiasm; still bearing the stains of the blood of 
helpless innocence about him, clothed with rags, and covered 
with chains, yet daring to raise his manacled hands to Heaven, 
with a spirit soaring above the attributes of man. I looked on 
him, and the blood curdled in my veins.
The history of these conspiracies proves that the 
very contact of the slave with his master tended to 
breed a desire for freedom. Every slave who became 
educated sufficiently to read the Bible or to read the 
ordinary school books came into contact with the 
sentiments and traditions of a people that was 

from his master the desire to be free. Frederick
Douglass got his first notions of freedom from
reading the great orations of William Pitt, Lord
Chatham, Fox, and Sheridan in a book called
"The Columbian Orator," which he picked up by
chance.
Once this notion of freedom got into the mind of 
a slave with a vigorous intellect it never left him. 
In Frederick Douglass's "Narrative," published in 
1845, he tells us that when he was a slave in Maryland 
on the shores of Chesapeake Bay he often 
watched the ships as they sailed by, and as they 
passed he would express himself in this way: 
You are loosed from your moorings, and are free, I am fast in 
my chains and am a slave! You move merrily before the gentle 
gale, and I sadly before the bloody whip! You are freedom's 
swift-winged angels that fly round the world, I am confined in 
bands of irons! O that I were free! O that I were one of your 
gallant decks, and under your protecting wing!
It is as true to-day as it was before the war that, 
while the personal relations of the white man and the 
black man in the South are frequently all that 
could be desired, the natural development of these 
good relations is hindered and held back by the 
impersonal fear which the white man seems to 
have of the Negro race as a whole. The success 
of the Negro as well as that of the white man is, 
for that reason, hindered by the efforts to force 
upon the South a system which does not fit the 

the war, for instance, the normal political development
of the South has been stunted by the fear, or
the ghost of the fear, that the Negro would some
time or other again secure the upper hand in the
South as he was supposed to have done directly
after the war. As a matter of fact, the Negro was
never in control in the South. The people who
were in control were representatives of the Republican
party in the North who came South and used
their influence with the Negro and with the Government
at Washington to control the course of
events. Just such a condition never will
and never can arise again. Even if it were possible, the
Negro does not desire it any more than the white
man. What he desires most is the good will of his
white neighbours and the opportunity for the peaceful
development of those fundamental interests
which are the same for both races.
The Negro gained just as little from the temporary 
power which he held during the Reconstruction 
time as he did from the successful and unsuccessful 
insurrections by which he sought to gain his freedom 
before the war. He has no desire to try that 
experiment again.
Scarcely a month or a week has passed since the 
Negro became free that some newspaper has not 
expressed a fear or made a prediction that there 
was going to be an uprising or insurrection of the 

That uprising has never taken place. The nearest
to anything like an uprising of the Negroes in the
South since emancipation took place at the end of
the seventies, when, as a result of real or fancied
oppression in some of the Southern states, delegates
from fourteen states and territories met in
Nashville, Tenn., May 7, 1879, and advised the
coloured people of the South to "emigrate to those
states and territories where they can enjoy all the
rights which are guaranteed by the laws and
Constitution of the United States." As a result of
this advice 40,000 emigrants, within the period of
a few months, poured into Kansas, largely from
the "Black Belt" of Mississippi and Louisiana.
This movement created such embarrassment
among the planters in the region from which the
emigration took place, and such distress among the
immigrants themselves, because of their helplessness
when they reached their destination, that the
movement became an object of national concern,
and it required the most energetic efforts upon the
part of Frederick Douglass and other leaders of
the race to prevent the movement assuming larger
and more dangerous proportions.
The chances for another such movement, or for 
an uprising of any kind, grow less every year, just 
in proportion as the Negro himself gains in 
property and in intelligence; in proportion as 

in which he lives, and becomes a permanent
and definite factor in its industrial life. The
only possible chance for such an uprising at the
present time would be in a community where the
Negro has little or no interest at stake, and such
communities are now few in the Southern states.
I can best illustrate what I have in mind by 
referring to a specific instance which I came across 
during a trip of observation through Mississippi in 
the fall of 1908. During that visit I spent a day 
in Marshall County where, although the Negro 
population outnumbers the white more than two 
to one, there has not been, with one exception, an 
outbreak of any character between the races since 
the Civil War. I inquired of the coloured and the 
white people there how it was that peace and 
harmony prevailed in their community. I received 
practically the same answer from both races, which 
was in substance this: In that community the 
coloured people are large owners of farm land; 
they are successful farmers; they own in the principal 
town of the county, Holly Springs, valuable 
business blocks; they are not only engaged in farming, 
but they are engaged in business, selling groceries, 
dry-goods, buying and selling cotton. 
Besides the coloured people of Mississippi own 
several important schools and colleges in Holly 
Springs. A racial outbreak would cost the Negroes 

and this fact has helped to bring about racial peace.
What is true in that community is equally true in
others where the Negro is making real progress.
In these places the people of both races have 
discovered that their material and moral interests 
are so interlaced that if one race suffers the other 
must suffer too.
One Negro in Marshall County, Mr. E. H. 
McKissack, is the Treasurer of the State Odd 
Fellows organisation, which handles practically 
$200,000 each year. This money, which is distributed 
among the different banks in Holly Springs, 
is a visible evidence of the way in which the material 
interests of the races are bound together. I 
was told during my visit that, whenever the least 
danger of racial conflict arose in Marshall County, 
the leading coloured men and the leading white 
men were in the habit of taking counsel together, in 
order to form plans that would result in the maintenance 
of peace and friendly relations. On one 
occasion, for instance, when the son of a poor 
white woman was murdered by a coloured man, 
the coloured people were the first to get together 
and hold a mass meeting, in which a considerable 
sum of money was collected and presented to the 
mother of the murdered boy.
In recent years we have had several outbreaks of 
mobs, sometimes in the North, sometimes in the 

a mob in the North and a mob in the South: A mob
in the South is more short-lived than the one in
the North, and with few exceptions, does not
seek to visit its punishment upon the innocent as
well as upon the guilty. There is a reason for
this. In the South every Negro, no matter how
worthless he may be as an individual, knows one
white man in the town whose friendship and
protection he can always count upon; perhaps he
has gained the friendship of this white man by
reason of the fact that some member of the white
man's family owned him or some of his relatives,
or it may be that he has lived upon this white man's
plantation, or that some member of his family
works for him, or that he has performed some act
of kindness for this white man which has brought
them into sympathetic relations with each other. It
is generally true, as I have said before, that in the
South every white man, no matter how bitter he
may seem to be toward the Negro as a race, knows
some one Negro in whom he has complete confidence,
whom he will trust with all that he has. It
is the individual touch which holds the two races
together in the South, and it is this individual
touch between the races which is lacking, in a large
degree, in the North.
In bringing to a close what I have written on 
the subject of Negro insurrections I am tempted 

While certain people have fallen into the habit of
denouncing the Negro because he is unduly ambitious,
and because he refuses to remain, as they
say, "in the place for which God made him,"
there are others who claim that the Negro is too
submissive. These latter insist that, if he had the
courage to stand up and denounce his detractors in
the same harsh and bitter terms that these persons
use toward him, in a short time he would win the
respect of the world, and the only obstacle to his
progress would be removed.
It is interesting, sometimes amusing, and sometimes 
even pathetic, to note the conception of 
"bravery" and "courage" which some coloured 
men, who put their faith in this solution of the 
Negro problem, occasionally apply to other members 
of their race. For a long time after freedom 
came, and the same is not infrequently true at the 
present time, any black man who was willing, 
either in print or in public speech, to curse and 
abuse the white man, easily gained for himself 
a reputation for great courage. He might spend but 
thirty minutes or an hour once a year in that kind 
of "vindication" of his race, but he got the reputation 
of being an exceedingly brave man. Another 
man, who worked patiently and persistently for 
years in a Negro school, depriving himself of many 
of the comforts and necessities of life, in order to 

gained no reputation for courage. On the contrary,
he was likely to be denounced as a coward by these
"heroes," because he chose to do his work without
cursing, without abuse, and without complaint.
There is an element of white people which has 
gained a reputation for courage by abusing the 
Negro in the same way that certain of the Negroes 
have gained a reputation by abusing the white man. 
No account is taken by these people of the kind of 
courage shown by the white man in the South who, 
in an unostentatious way, is helping to lift the 
Negro to a higher plane of usefulness. It requires 
no real courage for a man to stand up before a 
sympathetic audience and denounce wrongs that 
had been committed by people thousands of miles 
away. Neither does it require any real courage 
for five hundred armed men to march out and kill 
one helpless individual.
The encouraging thing about the relations of 
the races in the United States is that an increasing 
number of white men and black men are learning 
that the highest courage is that of the man or the 
woman who is helping some one else to be more 
useful or more happy; that, in the last analysis, 
it is not the courage that hurts some one and 
destroys something, but the courage that helps 
some one and builds something up which the world 
needs most.

CHAPTER X 
THE FREE NEGRO IN SLAVERY DAYS
SOME time in the fall of 1828, Benjamin 
Lundy, the Quaker abolitionist, met by 
accident, in a Boston boarding house, a young 
man by the name of William Lloyd Garrison, who 
was then publishing a total abstinence newspaper, 
the National Philanthropist. The next year, after 
returning from a visit to a colony of emancipated 
slaves which he had succeeded in settling in the 
island of Haiti, Lundy announced in his paper 
that William Lloyd Garrison had joined him 
at Baltimore, Maryland, and would henceforth 
be associated with him in the publication at 
that city of The Genius of Universal Emancipation, 
the first abolition newspaper in the 
United States.
This meeting of Benjamin Lundy and William 
Lloyd Garrison and their subsequent association in 
Baltimore marks the point in time when the agitation 
for the emancipation of the Negro was transferred 
from the Southern to the Northern States, and 
slavery became for the first time a National issue. 
After the Southampton uprising in 1831, the abolition 

parts of the South, almost wholly disappeared.
With the exception of a few individuals like Cassius
M. Clay who, as late as 1845, published an antislavery
weekly, the True American, at Lexington,
Kentucky, there was no public opposition to slavery
in any of the Southern States.
Opposition to slavery, though silenced in the South, 
never wholly ceased there, and the evidence of its 
existence was the Free Negro. In spite of the efforts 
that were made to limit and check emancipation of 
the slaves, the number of free Negroes continued to 
increase in the Southern as well as the Northern 
States, and the existence of this class of persons was 
the silent protest of the Southern slaveholder 
against the system which he publicly defended 
and upheld.
Under the conditions of slavery, the position of 
the free Negro was a very uncomfortable one. He 
was, in a certain sense, an anomaly, since he did not 
belong to either class. He was distrusted by the 
white people, and looked down upon by the slaves. 
In spite of this fact, individual slaveholders—sometimes 
by providing in their wills for the emancipation 
and transportation of their slaves to a free state or 
to Liberia, sometimes by permitting individual 
slaves to buy their own freedom—were constantly 
adding to the number of "free persons of colour." 
Among the most illustrious of those who freed their 

and Chief-Justice Roger B. Taney, author of the
famous Dred Scott decision.
When a master liberated his slaves by will, it was 
frequently with the explanation, expressed or understood, 
that he believed slavery was morally wrong. 
When he allowed them to buy their own freedom, it 
was a practical recognition that the system was 
economically a mistake, since the slave who could 
purchase his own freedom was one whom it did not 
pay to hold as a slave. This fact was clearly recognised 
by a planter in Mississippi who declared that 
he had found it paid to allow the slaves to buy their 
freedom. In order to encourage them to do this he 
devised a method by which they might purchase their 
freedom in instalments. After they had saved a 
certain amount of money, by extra labour, he permitted 
them to buy one day's freedom a week. With 
this much capital invested in themselves they were 
then able to purchase, in a much shorter time, a 
second, a third, and a fourth day's freedom, until 
they were entirely free.
A somewhat similar method was sometimes 
adopted by certain ambitious freedmen for purchasing 
the freedom of their families. In such a case the 
father would purchase, for instance, a son or a 
daughter. The children would then join with their 
father in purchasing the other members of the family. 
It was in this way, I have been informed by Mr. 

that his grandfather purchased his wife and ten
of his children, including Mr. Work's father. The
grandfather, Henry Work, after securing his own
freedom, went first to Cincinnati, and then to
Decatur, Michigan, where he owned a farm, and on
this farm he and his children earned the money to
purchase one by one the other members of the family.
How much it cost the family to free itself in this way
Mr. Work says he was unable to learn. He knows,
however, that his father sold at one time for $1,400.
When Henry Work died there were still three of his
children in slavery whom he had not been able to
redeem. Ex-President Gibson, of the Negro State of
Liberia, told me that his father purchased himself
and most of the other members of the family in instalments
and transported them to Liberia. Two sons,
who did not care to go back to Africa, were left in
slavery in this country, but with the understanding
that after a certain time they were to become free.
In this and other ways, in spite of the fact that there 
were at this time something like 30,000 fugitives in 
Canada and 20,000 colonists in Africa and elsewhere, 
the number of free Negroes in the United States 
increased from 59,466 in 1790 to 434,495 in 1860. 
This was about 10 per cent, of the whole Negro 
population at that time. Of these free Negroes 
considerably more than half—262,000—were in the 
Southern States. In the South, the three states of 

by far the largest number of the "free citizens of
colour," as they were sometimes called. At the
census of 1860, the slave population of Maryland
was something like 87,000 and the number of free
Negroes was 83,942. From 1830 to 1860 the slave
population of Maryland decreased nearly 16,000
while the population of free Negroes increased something
over 31,000.
In estimating the number of slaves who were, in 
one way or another, given their freedom by their 
masters, some account should be taken of those who 
were, for one reason or another, re-enslaved. A free 
Negro might be sold into slavery to pay taxes or to 
pay fines, and in Maryland free Negroes might be 
sold into perpetual slavery for the crime of entering 
the state. In 1829 the practice of selling any free 
Negro, who could not account for himself, in order 
to pay the jail fines, had become such a scandal as to 
attract public attention.
There were other means by which a considerable 
number of free Negroes were re-enslaved. The 
practice of kidnapping, in spite of severe laws against 
it in all the Southern states, was carried on to a 
very great extent. In his book on the domestic slave-trade, 
Professor Collins, of Claremont College, 
Hickory, N. C., estimates that the number of free 
Negroes kidnapped and sold into slavery "must have 
ranged from a few hundred to two or three thousand," 

were kidnapped as escaped from bondage, if not
more."[1]
A disposition to free slaves for personal considerations 
of one kind or another began at a very early 
period. In York and Henrico counties, Virginia, 
as far back as the middle of the seventeenth century, 
we find records of the emancipation of Negro slaves. 
For example, Thomas Whitehead, of York, emancipated 
his slave John, and bequeathed to him, among 
other things, two cows and the use of a house and 
as much ground as he could cultivate. He further 
showed his confidence in the discretion and the 
integrity of this Negro slave by appointing him guardian 
of Mary Rogers, a ward of Mr. Whitehead. He 
also made him trustee of her property, but the court 
refused to allow him to fill either one or the other of 
these positions.[2]
 Another instance recorded about 
this time was that of John Carter, of Lancaster, 
Virginia, who was one of the largest slaveholders in 
the colony. He gave freedom to two of his Negro 
slaves who were married to each other. To each he 
gave a cow and a calf and three barrels of Indian 
corn. He also instructed his heirs to allow them 
the use of convenient firewood, timber, and as much 
land as they could cultivate. He provided that the 

liberty when they reached their eighteenth year, and,
as a provision for them when they reached that age,
he gave each a yearling with its increase, which was
to be permitted to run with the cattle of his wife after
his death.[3]
In the interval between 1635 and 1700, although 
the Negro slaves were few in number, and most of the 
labour was performed by white servants, there were 
a number of persons of African blood in the colony 
of Virginia who raised themselves to positions of 
some importance. Several of them were able to 
write at a time when there were very few schools 
and education was a decided luxury. Several had 
obtained patents to land. For instance, in 1654, one 
hundred acres of land in Northampton County were 
granted to Richard Johnson, a Negro, and in the 
description of this tract reference was made to 
the contiguous estates of John Johnston and Anthony 
Johnson, both Negroes. There are in the records 
of Northampton County, also, evidences that a suit 
was begun by Anthony Johnson for the purpose 
of recovering his Negro servant.
During the early years of slavery, the free Negroes 
seem to have had about the same rights under the 
law that other free persons had, except, as I have 
already stated, they were not allowed to hold persons 
of white blood as bond-servants. It appears that, 

allowed to vote in every state, except Georgia and
South Carolina. Between 1792 and 1834 the four
bordering states, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia,
and Kentucky, denied suffrage to the Negro. In
North Carolina, Negroes who paid a public tax
took part in the election until 1835, when a new
constitution excluded them from the suffrage. New
Jersey took away the suffrage of the Negro in 1807,
Connecticut in 1814, and Pennsylvania in 1838.
New York, in 1821, required from them an unusually
high property qualification.[4]
These changes were all evidences of the steady 
growth in the United States, both North and South, 
of a caste system which excluded the Negro from 
the ordinary privileges of citizenship exclusively upon 
the ground of his colour. In 1803 Ohio demanded 
a bond of five hundred dollars for Negroes who came 
into the state. A Negro, even though a free man, 
could not at that time testify in a case in which a 
white man was a party, and Negroes were not 
admitted to the public schools. Similar provisions 
were made by Illinois, Indiana, and Iowa when they 
became states. Illinois prohibited the entrance of 
Negroes to the state at any time. In 1833 Judge 
Dagget, of Connecticut, twenty-four years before the 
Dred Scott decision, held that a free Negro was a 
person and not a citizen. This was in the trial of the 

who had established a school for Negroes
in Canterbury, Connecticut, contrary to a law
which provided that no school could be established
for coloured people who were not inhabitants
of Connecticut.
The effect of the agitation for abolition seems to 
have made the condition of the free Negroes steadily 
worse, particularly in the Southern states. In some 
of these states, they were forbidden to sell drugs, 
in others they might not sell wheat and tobacco, and 
in still others to peddle market produce or own a boat 
was against the law. In several states it was 
against the law for a free Negro to cross the state 
line; in others, a slave who was emancipated was 
compelled to immediately leave the state.
Notwithstanding the hardships and difficulties 
under which the free Negro population laboured, 
both in the North and in the South, those who have 
had occasion to study the local history of the Southern 
States have found that the number of Negroes who 
had succeeded in making some impression upon their 
community, either by their native qualities or by 
their success in business, was more considerable than 
is usually imagined. Solomon Humphreys, for 
instance, after purchasing his freedom, became a 
well-known business man in Georgia. Benjamin 
Lundy found at San Antonio a Negro who, after 
purchasing his own freedom and that of his wife 

houses and lots.[5]
The number of free Negroes in North Carolina 
was considerable because, in spite of the rigorous 
laws against the free coloured people, conditions were 
more lenient than those of any other Southern state. 
The result was that many free Negroes crossed into 
North Carolina and settled, undisturbed, in the 
northern or southern counties. Speaking of this 
class of people, Professor John Spencer Bassett says: 
They were well-diggers, shoemakers, blacksmiths, fiddlers, 
hucksters, peddlers, and so forth. Besides, they were easily called 
in to help the whites on occasions of need. There were a very 
few who accumulated money and some of these became slave-owners. 
Although it was against the law for them to come into 
the state, their arrival was tolerated both because the law was 
recognised as severe and because their services were wanted 
in the community. Many of them had Indian blood in their 
veins, and when such was the case they were a little distant toward 
the slaves. . . . I have been speaking of free Negroes who 
lived in the country districts. In towns they fared better and 
accumulated wealth.[6]
Professor Bassett gives an account of several free 
Negroes, of whom he had been able to obtain records, 
who were citizens of Newbern, Craven County, 
North Carolina. One of the men to whom he refers 
was John C. Stanley, the son of an African-born 
slave woman, who was liberated by the General 

his mistress. Because he got his start in the barber
business, he was generally known as "Barber Jack."
He became the owner of several plantations on which
he employed sixty-four slaves, of which he was the
owner, and as many more bound free Negroes. He
had three sons, John, Alexander, and Charles.
John became an expert book-keeper, and was
employed in that capacity by a prominent firm.
John C. Stanley amassed a fortune, or what was
supposed to be a fortune in those days, of something
like $40,000. Speaking of some of the other
successful Negroes of whom he was able to obtain the
records, Professor Bassett says:
Many of the free Negroes were in circumstances of independent 
thrift, and from many parts of the state I have had evidence that 
some Negroes were slaveholders. In Newbern especially there 
were a number of such thrifty coloured men. Notable among 
these was John Good. He was a son of his master, and for a long 
time a slave. When the master died, his two surviving children, 
who were daughters, had but little property besides this boy, 
John, who was a barber. John took up the task of supporting 
them. He boarded them in good houses and otherwise provided 
for them well. His faithfulness won him many friends among 
the best citizens, and when both of his mistresses were married 
these friends united to persuade the owners to liberate him as a 
reward for his services. . . . There were other thrifty and 
notable free Negroes in the same place, as, for example, 
John Y. Green, a carpenter and contractor; Richard Hazel, a blacksmith 
of means; Albert and Freeman Morris, described as "two 
nice young men," and thoroughly respected, tailors by trade; 
and Scipio, slave of Dr. Hughes, who was a blacksmith and owner 
of a livery stable. Another was Fellow Bragg, a tailor who was 

people were known to move their custom to the shops at which
he was employed in order that he might work on it. Most of
these men moved to Cincinnati sooner or later What became
of them I do not know. The conditions here recorded for Newbern
were not unusual for North Carolina towns in general.
Everywhere there were usually a number of prosperous free
Negroes. Most of them were mulattoes, not a few of them were
set free by their fathers and thus they fell easily into the life around
them.[7]
Among the descendants of the free coloured people 
of Newbern, North Carolina, with whom I am 
personally acquainted is the Hon. John P. Green, 
who was for twelve years a justice of the peace 
in Cleveland, Ohio, four years a member of the Ohio 
House of Representatives, two years a member of the 
State Senate, and for nine years at the head of the 
Postage-stamp Distribution Bureau of Washington, 
filling in the intervals of his public service with practice 
at the Cleveland bar. His father was a master 
tailor in Newbern, and a member of a family of 
free coloured people whose traditions go back something 
more than one hundred years.
Charles W. Chesnutt, author of "The Conjure 
Woman" and other popular stories of Southern life, 
was descended from free coloured people in Fayetteville, 
North Carolina. Mr. Chesnutt informs me that 
a coloured man by the name of Matthew Leary is 
still remembered in Fayetteville who, before the war, 
was the owner of considerable land, a number of 

and a handsome residence in a good neighbourhood.
His sons gained some prominence in North Carolina
during the Reconstruction era. Matthew Leary, Jr.,
went into politics and afterward became a clerk in
one of the Government offices in Washington. A
younger brother, Hon. John S. Leary, was the first
coloured man in North Carolina to be admitted
to the bar, of which he remained a respected member
until he died at Charlotte, N. C. He was, I understand,
at one time a member of the North Carolina
Legislature.
Another of the successful free coloured people of 
North Carolina was James D. Sampson, who began 
life as a house carpenter and became in the course 
of time a man of considerable wealth and some 
local distinction. I have been informed that one time 
the Legislature passed a bill granting his family special 
privileges which were not permitted to other free 
people of colour. His children, John, Benjamin, and 
Joseph, were all educated in the North. Benjamin 
graduated from Oberlin College and afterward 
became a teacher at Wilberforce, Ohio. John P. 
Sampson published at Cincinnati, during the war, 
the Coloured Citizen. After the war he was 
commissioned by General Howard to look after the 
coloured schools established by the Freedmen's 
Bureau in the Third District of North Carolina 
He was elected treasurer and assessor of Wilmington, 

because of the fact, it is said, that his father had been
the owner of slaves before the war. While it was true
that James D. Sampson owned a number of slaves, it
is said that many, if not all, of them were held in trust
in order to secure them practical freedom. Recently,
George M. Sampson, a grandson of James D. Sampson,
visited Tuskegee. He is now a teacher in the
State Normal School at Tallahassee, Florida.
There is no reason to believe that the coloured 
people of North Carolina made more progress in a 
material way than they did in some of the other 
states in the South. For instance, in the city of 
Charleston, South Carolina, there was a colony of 
"free persons of colour" who were proud of the fact 
that they sprang from a generation of free ancestors 
going back to before the Revolutionary War. In the 
list of taxpayers in the city of Charleston for 1860 
the names of three hundred and sixty "persons of 
colour," whose property was assessed in that year, 
are given. They owned real estate which was valued 
for taxation at $724,570. Of these three hundred 
and sixty taxpayers, one hundred and thirty owned 
slaves, aggregating three hundred and ninety in 
number. The largest number of slaves held by a 
coloured person was fourteen. In this list of "persons 
of colour" thirteen are classed as Indians, but 
it is quite certain that these so-called Indians were 
largely mixed with Negro blood. Like so many other 

had been but partially absorbed by coloured people
with whom they had been associated.
In 1860 the population of Charleston was 48,409, 
of whom 26,969 were white, 17,655 slaves, and 3,785 
were "free persons of colour." It would appear 
from the figures given that these free coloured people 
probably owned, including slaves, a million dollars' 
worth of property. Among the slaves held by coloured 
people of Charleston were a number who were 
actually free men, and only nominally slaves. For 
instance, Richard Holloway, who was a prominent 
man among the free coloured people in Charleston, 
owned Charles Benford, who was his friend, and with 
him one of the leaders in the Methodist Church, at 
that time. The circumstances were these: Charles 
Benford had arranged with his white master to purchase 
his freedom, but at that time the laws were such 
that it was difficult for a master to free his slaves, 
particularly if the slave purchased his own freedom. 
In order to get around this law Charles Benford asked 
his friend, Richard Holloway, to purchase him, 
Benford himself furnishing the money for the 
purchase.
There were a number of other slaves held in trust 
by the free coloured people of Charleston. The 
wealthiest family in Charleston, among the free 
coloured people, were the Westons. They had 
among the various members of the family taxable 

owned thirty-six slaves, nine of whom they held as
trustees. It is said that the number of slaves held
by St. Philip's Church, which was the aristocratic
church of the city, amounted to something over
one hundred. These consisted for the most part of
slaves who had actually bought their freedom and
whom the church held in trust.
Of the free coloured people of Louisiana, of whom 
there were a very considerable number before the 
war, many were slaveholders and large owners of 
land. There were a number of settlements of Creole 
Negroes, as they were called, in various parts of 
Louisiana. When Frederick Law Olmsted visited 
that state in 1853, he visited one of these settlements 
in the neighbourhood of Natchitoches. The information 
which he obtained in regard to these people 
was to the effect that they were "honest and industrious 
and paid their debts quite as promptly as the 
white planters, and were, as far as anyone could 
judge, good citizens in all respects!" One of them, he 
learned, had lately spent $40,000 in a law suit, and it 
is believed that they were increasing in wealth. 
Several of these coloured planters were worth four 
or five hundred thousand dollars. The little town of 
Washington, near Opelousas, in St. Landry Parish, 
was formerly called Negroville from the number of 
free Negroes living in that village. A number of 
them, according to Olmsted, were wealthy and 

and sugar plantations.
"An intelligent man whom I met at Washington," 
he said, "who had been travelling most of the time 
for two years in the plantation districts, told me that 
the free Negroes in the state in general, so far as he 
had observed, were equal in all respects to the white 
Creoles. Much the larger part of them were poor, 
thriftless, unambitious, and lived wretchedly, but 
there were many opulent, intelligent, and educated, 
The best house and most tasteful grounds that he 
had visited in the state had belonged to a nearly 
full-blooded Negro—a very dark man. He and his 
family were well educated and, though French in 
their habitual tongue, they spoke English with a 
liberal tongue and one much more eloquent than 
most of the liberally educated whites. They had a 
private tutor in their family, and owned, he thought, 
a hundred and fifty slaves.
It is near here, in the adjoining parish of St. Martin, 
that my friend Paul Chretien lived. His father was 
a free coloured man who made his money in the 
neighbourhood of Calcasieu, but afterward returned 
to St. Martin and built himself a beautiful home there 
in which his son, whose name I have mentioned, is 
now living.
A considerable portion of the Negro population of 
Mobile, Alabama, at the present day are the descendants 
of these Creole Negroes whose freedom was 

transferred Louisiana to the United States in 1803.
There is an island in Mobile Bay, about twenty miles
below the city, Mon Louis Island, which is owned
by the descendants of two families. The lower end
of the island was settled by the veterans of the Revolutionary
War, who lived to a great age; the upper
part of the island was settled by a man known as
Captain Jack Collins, but his real name was Maximilian
Collins, who settled on this island in 1808.
He left a large tract of land to his descendants with
the injunction that they should sell none of it; it has
remained in their hands up to the present time, and
there has grown up there, as a result, a little patriarchal
colony made up of the descendants of the free
Negro, Captain Jack, and the descendants of his
slaves. The oldest living descendant of this patriarch
is the widow of the late Belthair Durette, who
had seventy-two grandchildren, fifty-two great-grandchildren,
ninety-seven of whom are living in this
community of Mon Louis.
I have mentioned here several cases which indicate 
that, even in the South and before the Civil War, 
the Negro had made some progress along material 
lines. It is impossible to tell, of course, how much 
property these people possessed. But the aggregate 
value of the property of the 262,000 Negroes in the 
South in 1860 has been estimated at something like 
twenty-five millions of dollars. I should judge, 

was a low estimate.
The question might very well be asked, considering 
the success that individuals were able to make before 
the war, why it was that the great mass of the Negro 
people who were free did not do better? In reply to 
that I might say that there were the same reasons and 
others why the Negro should not get on or succeed 
that there were why the class known as the "poor 
whites" in the South did not succeed. If the conditions 
of slavery operated to keep the poor white man 
in a low stage of civilisation, they certainly operated 
to keep the free Negro in a still lower stage.
Not only did the free people of colour have to meet 
all the difficulties to which I have referred, but it was 
against the law for them to meet together in any large 
number in order to coöperate to improve their 
condition. The great benefits of coöperation which 
go so far to extend to the mass of individuals the 
benefits which are obtained by a few were denied 
them.
In spite of this fact, in Charleston, Baltimore, 
Washington, New York, and in other places where 
there were large numbers of free Negroes, little 
societies for mutual helpfulness were established. 
For instance, in 1790 there was formed in Charleston 
what was known as the "Brown Fellowship Society." 
This society was started at the suggestion of the director 
of St. Philip's, of which a number of free Negroes 

among its members, it sought to provide school
privileges for their children and to provide relief
and extend aid to worthy persons of their colour.
One of the first things they did was to purchase
a burial lot for their dead. This organisation
befriended helpless orphans; one of these orphans
was the well-known Bishop Daniel A. Payne, the
founder of Wilberforce University. This organisation
still maintains its existence, and celebrated a few
years ago its centennial. The records have all been
preserved, and one of the most interesting of these is
one which commemorates, in a formal way, the
expulsion of one of its members on suspicion of
having assisted in kidnapping and selling into slavery
a free coloured man. The success of this first organisation
led to the establishment of other similar
organisations. "The Humane and Friendly Society"
was established in 1802; "The Friendly Union,"
in 1813; and later still, "The Friendly Moralist,"
and the "Brotherly Association," and the "Unity
and Friendship." Each of these had its own burial
plot and system of mutual benefit.
After the attempted conspiracy of Denmark Vesey, 
in 1822, all these organisations came under suspicion, 
and there was a time when they were kept up under 
the greatest difficulties, but they never ceased to 
exist. There were similar organisations, as I have 
said, in several of the larger cities of the South. 

attended one of these societies, known as the "East
Baltimore Mental Improvement Society." This
society was formed by a number of free coloured
young men who, like Frederick Douglass, were engaged,
as ship caulkers. In this organisation he
frequently took prominent part, although, being a
slave, he would naturally have been excluded. He
has said that the society of the young men he met
there aided him considerably in completing the
education that he had already begun in secret. As
Baltimore probably had more free coloured people
at the time than any other city, with the exception
of Washington, it was natural that there should be
a large number of these societies of a literary and
mutual-benefit and benevolent character. Baltimore,
in fact, seems to have been the home of the Negro
mutual benefit societies, many of which now in
existence date back to 1820.
The New York African Society, for mutual relief, 
which has been in existence for over a hundred 
years in New York City, held its first meeting in a 
coloured school-house in Rose Street in 1808, nearly 
twenty years before the final emancipation of the 
slaves in New York State. Although it has not 
increased its membership in recent years, this society 
has become, I understand, comparatively wealthy 
as a result of its earlier investments. The first property 
owned by this society was on Baxter Street not 

under the name of Five Points. It was purchased
in 1820 for $1,800, and when it was sold later the
funds were used to purchase a five-story flat at No.
43 West Sixty-sixth Street and another building at
No. 27 Greenwich Avenue, both of which the society
still owns.
In Maryland these beneficial organisations were 
especially exempt from the general prohibition 
against public meetings of free coloured people In 
other places in the Southern States there was no 
such exemption and, although the law was usually 
got around in some way or other, not infrequently 
members of these organisations were arrested, fined, 
and sometimes sent to prison. Frederick Law 
Olmsted records one such instance in Washington, 
D. C., in the first chapter of his journals of "In the 
Seaboard Slave States."
He says: 
The coloured population voluntarily sustain several churches, 
schools, and mutual assistance and improvement societies, and 
there are evidently persons among them of no inconsiderable 
cultivation of mind. Among the police reports of the city newspapers, 
there was lately (April, 1855) an account of the apprehension 
of twenty-four "genteel coloured men" (so they were 
described), who had been found by a watchman assembling 
privately in the evening, and been lodged in the watch-house. 
The object of their meeting appears to have been purely benevolent, 
and, when they were examined before a magistrate in the 
morning, no evidence was offered, nor does there seem to have 
been any suspicion, that they had any criminal purpose. On 

Seneca's "Morals"; "Life in Earnest;" the printed constitution
of a society, the object of which was said to be "to relieve the
sick, and bury the dead"; and a subscription paper "to purchase
the freedom of Eliza Howard," a young woman, whom her owner
was willing to sell at $650. I can think of nothing that would
speak higher for the character of a body of poor men, servants
and labourers, than to find, by chance, in their pockets, just such
things as these.[8]
Nothing contributed more to keep the free Negroes 
from making the great advancement that they did 
during the period of slavery than the fact that they 
were not allowed to organise and unite their efforts 
for their own improvement in any large way. On 
the other hand, nothing has more prevented and held 
back the progress of the coloured people since slavery 
than the fact that they have had to learn how to unite 
their efforts in order to improve their condition.
 Johns Hopkins University Studies: "Slavery in the State of North Carolina," 
by John Spencer Bassett, p. 43.
 Johns Hopkins University Studies:"Slavery in the state of North Carolina," 
by John Spencer Bassett, p. 45.

CHAPTER XI 
FUGITIVE SLAVES
In the latter part of the year 1852 was organised 
or rather re-organised, in the rooms of 
the Anti-slavery Society, at 107 North Fifth 
Street, Philadelphia, what was known as the "Vigilance 
Committee." The chairman of this committee 
was a coloured man, Robert Purvis. He 
was descended from a free coloured woman of 
Charleston, whose mother was said to have been 
a Moor. His father, Robert Purvis, was an Englishman. 
He was brought to Pennsylvania by his 
parents in 1819; was a member of the Anti-slavery 
Convention in 1833, and was one of the signers of 
its declaration of sentiments. When the fiftieth 
anniversary of the Anti-slavery Society was held 
in Philadelphia, December 4, 1883, he was one 
of the three original signers who were present. 
The other two were John G. Whittier, the poet, 
and Elizur Wright, the anti-slavery editor. The 
Secretary of the Philadelphia Vigilance Committee 
was William Still.
This Vigilance Committee, which was the successor 
of an earlier organisation of the same name 

the principal directing body for all the numerous
lines of the Underground Railroad which centred
in Philadelphia at that time. As secretary of
this organisation, William Still kept a record of
all the fugitive slaves who passed through the hands
of this committee from the time of its organisation
until the breaking out of the Civil War. During
the period of the Civil War he kept this record
hidden, but in 1872 it was published in the form
of a book called "The Underground Railroad."
This book is one of the most remarkable records 
in existence, concerning the history of slavery. It 
is made up in large part of the letters that were 
written by the different agents of the Underground 
Railroad to the secretary of the Vigilance Committee, 
and of letters written by fugitive slaves, 
sometimes while they were en route to Canada, 
and sometimes after they had reached their destination. 
They tell, in words of the fugitives 
themselves, of the difficulties, sufferings, fears 
of runaway slaves, and of all the various devices 
which they used to escape from bondage to freedom.
Of his own motives for keeping this record, Mr. 
Still says: 
Thousands of escapes, harrowing separations, dreadful longings, 
dark gropings after lost parents, brothers, sisters, and identities, 
seemed ever to be pressing on my mind. While I knew the danger 
of keeping strict records, and while I did not then dream that in 
my day slavery would be blotted out, or that the time would come 

to take them down, fresh from the lips of fugitives on the
way to freedom, and to preserve them as they had given them.[1]
Sometimes these fugitives reached free soil packed 
in boxes, shipped as merchandise by rail or by 
steamship, from some of the nearby Southern 
ports. This was the case of Henry Box Brown, 
who was shipped from Richmond, Va., by James 
A. Smith, a shoe dealer, to William H. Johnson, 
Arch Street, Philadelphia. He was twenty-six 
hours on the road from Richmond to Philadelphia. 
Though the box was marked "This side up," in 
the course of his journey, Mr. Brown was compelled 
to ride many miles standing on his head. When 
the box arrived at the anti-slavery office, there 
was the greatest apprehension lest, in the course 
of the journey, the fugitive had perished and the 
society would find itself with a corpse upon its 
hands. Mr. Still described, in the following words, 
the scene when this box was opened in the presence 
of a number of prominent members of the 
Anti-slavery Society: 
All was quiet. The door had been safely locked. The proceedings 
commenced. Mr. J. Miller McKim, Secretary of the 
Pennsylvania Anti-slavery Society, rapped quietly on the lid of 
the box and called out, "Ail right!" Instantly came the answer 
from within, "All right, sir!"
The witnesses will never forget that moment. Saw and hatchet 
quickly had the five hickory hoops cut and the lid off, and the 
marvellous resurrection of Brown ensued. Rising up in his box, 

The little assemblage hardly knew what to think or do at the
moment. He was about as wet as if he had come up out of the
Delaware. Very soon he remarked that, before leaving Richmond,
he had selected for his arrival-hymn (if he lived) the psalm beginning
with these words: "I waited patiently for the Lord, and He
heard my prayer." And most touchingly did he sing the psalm,
much to his own relief, as well as to the delight of his small audience.
He was then christened Henry Box Brown, and soon afterward
was sent to the hospitable residence of James Mott and E. M.
Davis, on Ninth Street, where, it is needless to say, he met a cordial
reception from Mrs. Lucretia Mott and her household.[2]
Other attempts were made after that time to 
ship fugitive slaves out of the South as express 
packages. In 1857, a young woman was shipped 
from Baltimore to Philadelphia in a box of freight. 
After reaching Philadelphia, this box with its living 
freight, after having been turned upside down 
several times, was left standing nearly all of one 
night at the freight shed, and it was not secured 
by the persons to whom it was consigned until 
ten o'clock the next day. When the box was 
opened the young woman inside was unconscious 
and could not speak for some time. She recovered, 
however, and eventually escaped to Canada.
Samuel A. Smith, who shipped Henry Box 
Brown from Richmond to Philadelphia, attempted, 
shortly after this successful venture, to send 
two other slaves by express to the anti-slavery 
office. The deceit, however, was discovered and 

eight years in prison, and served out his time in
the penitentiary.
Frequently fugitives were secreted upon steamships 
and sailing vessels. There was usually a 
coloured steward on these vessels who was willing 
to run the risk of assisting a fugitive to escape. 
Men dressed themselves as women, and women 
dressed themselves as men in order to escape 
from slavery. Sometimes fugitives travelled hundreds 
of miles in skiffs in order to reach free soil.
William Still, the author of the book on "The 
Underground Railroad," had a singular experience. 
One summer day in 1850, as he was engaged in 
mailing the weekly issue of the Pennsylvania 
Freeman, two coloured men entered the office. 
One of these was a stranger, a man who had purchased 
his freedom and gone to Philadelphia in 
the hope of finding his relatives.
"I am from Alabama," he said, speaking slowly 
and deliberately. "I have come in search of my 
people. My little brother and I were kidnapped 
about forty years ago, and I thought by coming 
to Philadelphia and having notices published and 
read old people would remember about it, and I 
could find my mother and people."
"Where were you kidnapped from?" asked 
Mr. Still.
"I don't know," was the reply.

"Don't you know the name of the place?"
"No."
"Don't you know the name of any town, river, 
neighbourhood or state?"
"No."
"What was your name?"
"Peter."
"What was your brother's name?"
"Levin."
"What were the names of your father and mother?"
"Levin and Sidney."
By the time the dialogue had reached this point 
William Still was so fully convinced that the stranger 
was one of his long-lost brothers that he scarcely 
knew what to do.
"I allowed a full hour to pass," he says, in relating 
the circumstance, "meanwhile plying him with 
questions before intimating to my brother the 
discovery I had made. Then seating myself by 
his side, I said, 'I think I can tell you about all 
your kinsfolk—mother, father, and all,' and then 
I went on to say, 'You are an own brother of mine.'"
Such proved to be the case. It seems that Peter 
Still had been stolen from his parents when they 
were living on a farm in New Jersey, in an obscure 
little settlement of Free Negroes and fugitive slaves 
called "Springtown," in Cumberland County.[3]
 

had purchased his own freedom from his master,
about 1800. The mother was a fugitive slave.
Peter had been carried from his mother when he
was six years old and taken to Alabama. After
he had grown to be a young man he made up his
mind to save money by performing extra labour,
to buy his freedom. Fearing that his master
would be unwilling to sell him his freedom, he
secured the friendly offices of a Jew named Friedman
who made the purchase and set him free.
After reaching Philadelphia and finding his 
brother William, as has been described, Peter 
Still made several attempts to secure the freedom 
of his wife and children, whom he left in slavery 
in Alabama. It was in an attempt to secure the 
freedom of Peter Still's wife and children that 
Seth Concklin, the Shaker Abolitionist, lost his 
life. Seth Concklin was one of the few white 
men who, in their efforts to rescue the slaves, penetrated 
the slave country. He succeeded in bringing 
the fugitives by boat down the Tennessee and 
up the Mississippi and the Wabash rivers, as far 
as Vincennes, when he and they were captured 
and taken back. Concklin was killed in an attempt 
to escape.[4]

One of the most singular and interesting figures 
among the people who were engaged in the work 
of the "Underground Railroad" was Harriet 
Tubman. She escaped from slavery some time 
about 1849, when she was between twenty and 
twenty-five years of age. It was the fear that she 
and her brothers were to be "sold South" that 
finally led her to make the attempt to escape. She 
started, with her brothers, from her home in Maryland, 
guided, as she said, only by the North Star. 
But after the fugitives had made some distance, 
the brothers, who feared that they would not succeed, 
turned back and Harriet went on alone. 
After making her own escape, she went back 
repeatedly to different parts of the South and aided 
in the escape of other fugitives. Many of the 
slaves who had escaped to Canada, and who had 
learned to have complete faith in "Moses," as 
they called her, employed her to secure the freedom 
of their friends. The fugitives in Canada believed 
that she had a charmed life. As a matter of fact, 
Harriet Tubman succeeded, in the course of nineteen 
different trips into the South, in bringing more 
than three hundred slaves from the South into the 

fugitive under her care ever captured. During the
Civil War, she was employed in the secret service of
the Federal Army, and, in the last year of the
war, carried papers which admitted her through
the lines of the Union Army in any part of the
country, wherever she cared to go. She was still
living, in 1908, in retirement at Auburn, New York.
The most distinguished fugitive who escaped 
from slavery was Frederick Douglass, who secured 
a "sailor's protection," which certified that he 
was a free American sailor. Armed with this on 
Monday, September 3, 1838, he boarded the train 
at Baltimore and rode directly to New York City. 
From there he went into New Bedford, where he 
found refuge in the home of a coloured man by 
the name of Nathan Johnson. After Frederick 
Douglass went to live in Rochester, New York, 
his home there became one of the principal stations 
of the "Underground Railroad," which ran from 
New York City through Albany to the Great Lakes 
and Canada.
He has told, in his autobiography, the manner 
in which fugitives were brought to his home, concealed 
there, and then hurried on to the little town 
of Charlotte, seven miles from Rochester, and 
there placed on board a little lake steamer en route 
for Canada.
"On one occasion," he said, "I had eleven 

it was necessary for them to remain with me until
I could collect sufficient money to get them on to
Canada.
"But," he added, "it is due to the truth to state 
that we seldom called in vain upon a Whig or a 
Democrat for help. Men were better than their 
theology and truer to humanity than to their politics 
or their offices."
He refers here to the fact that at one time, 
when a master was in the office of a United States 
Commissioner, getting the papers necessary for 
the arrest of three young men who had escaped 
from slavery in Maryland, the law-partner of the 
commissioner, a distinguished Democrat, sought 
him out, told him what was going on in his office, 
and urged him by all means to get these young 
men out of the way of pursuit.
In Syracuse, New York, there was another 
station of the "Underground Railroad," conducted 
by another fugitive slave. This was the Rev. J. W. 
Loguen, afterward a bishop of the A. M. E. Zion 
Church. "Jarm" Loguen, as he was called, was 
born a slave in Kentucky. His mother came of 
free parents in Ohio, but was kidnapped and sold 
in Kentucky when she was a child. She seems to 
have been a woman of great sense and character, 
and after her son grew up he inherited from her, 
apparently, a determination to be free.

He and another young man made their escape 
on horseback. They reached the Ohio River, 
crossed the ice, and finally, after a long series of 
adventures, during which they spent some time with 
the Indians, and passed several weeks in a settlement 
of fugitive slaves in Indiana, crossed the river at 
Detroit into Canada. They remained for some time 
on British soil, but Loguen finally returned to the 
United States and settled in Northern New York.
Although he had no education when he left 
Kentucky, young Loguen was industrious, thrifty, 
and succeeded in making money. He used the 
first money he accumulated to secure for himself an 
education at the Oneida Institute, Whitesboro, New 
York, a school started for coloured children by 
the noted Abolitionist, Beriah Green. Afterward, 
he went to Syracuse to live and interested himself, 
as a minister and anti-slavery leader, in the welfare 
of the coloured people of that city. It was while 
he was there that the famous "Jerry Rescue" 
took place, in which some of the citizens stormed 
the United States Commissioner's Office and forcibly 
carried off a fugitive named Jerry, who had been 
arrested under the recently enacted Fugitive Slave 
Law. At this time, Syracuse was the home of 
Samuel J. May and Gerrit Smith, and this first 
case under the Fugitive Slave Law was at once a 
defiance and a test of the abolitionist temper of 
the people of that city.

Though thousands of fugitive slaves succeeded 
in making their escape by routes that led from the 
South through Pennsylvania and New York, and 
also through New England, by far the larger number 
of the fugitives passed through the State of Ohio. 
In all the little coloured settlements in Ohio, Indiana, 
and Illinois, and in the larger cities like Cincinnati, 
there were men who were known to be fugitive 
slaves. Some of these men were slowly paying 
for their freedom from their earnings in the free 
states. In his life of Salmon P. Chase, Prof. 
Albert Bushnell Hart, of Harvard University, 
refers to a theological student who was known to 
have provided for his education "from the instalments 
thus paid by a man for his own flesh, and 
to have charged the poor Negro twelve per cent. 
on deferred payment." As further illustration of 
the number and variety of these cases, he mentions 
a Negro child in a charitable school who excused 
her absence with the explanation, "I am staying 
at home to help buy father."
After the passage of the Fugitive Slave Law, September 
26,1850, large numbers of these fugitive slaves 
living in Ohio became frightened for fear that they 
were to be sent back into slavery and fled into Canada. 
At that time, J. C. Brown, a free man who had paid 
11,800 for his freedom, organised a colonisation 
society for the purpose of inducing coloured people to 
leave the State of Ohio and settle in Canada.

"At this time," says Mr. Brown, "Cincinnati 
was full of women, without husbands, and their 
children. These were sent by planters from Louisiana, 
Mississippi, and some from Tennessee, who 
had got fortunes and had found that white women 
could live in those states, and in consequence, they 
had sent their slave wives and children to Cincinnati 
and set them free."
These people were now, of course, in a state of 
terror and their former masters were of course 
anxious to get them upon free soil where there 
would be no doubt of their security. It was at 
this time that a number of refugees in different 
parts of Canada, sprang up. Under Mr. Brown's 
direction, four hundred and sixty people were 
settled in the township of Biddulph, near Little 
York. These were joined afterward by fifteen families 
from Boston, Mass. They purchased twelve 
hundred and twenty acres which were divided 
into tracts of from twenty-five to fifty acres to a 
family.
One of the most romantic of the fugitive slave 
stories is that of William and Ellen Craft. William 
Craft was a slave on a plantation near Macon, 
Georgia. He had learned the trade of cabinetmaker 
and had become so proficient in that craft 
that, in addition to his daily work for his master, 
he had been able to earn a considerable sum of 
money for himself by work performed in his leisure 

on this same plantation there was another slave,
a young woman, who was almost white. They
became acquainted with each other and after a
time they were married. They had not lived
together very long before the fear that they might
at some time be sold and thus parted from one
another, made them think about the possibilities
of escape from slavery. After studying over the
matter for some time, William Craft hit upon a
plan.
There were always white people in the slavery 
times who were willing for the sake of a little money 
to carry on a secret traffic with the slaves. From 
one of these white men he secured a suit of men's 
clothing that would fit his wife. He had the suit 
made in the latest fashion in order to make the disguise 
as complete as possible. He secured shoes, 
hat, neckties, all the other pieces of wearing apparel 
necessary to complete the wardrobe of a wealthy 
young planter. In this disguise, Ellen Craft, having 
secured a permit from her mistress for a visit of 
a few days to a neighbouring plantation, took the 
train at Macon for Savannah. The husband, 
William, having secured a similar permit for himself, 
boarded the same train and, passing himself 
off as the Negro servant of his wife, they made the 
journey out of slavery into freedom together.
At Savannah they took the boat for Charleston. 

Carolina, and from there took the train to Philadelphia.
They had a great many curious and
exciting adventures on the way. The young
"planter" who, in order to more fully disguise
herself, had tied a bandage around her head, as
if she had a toothache, seemed to arouse the interest
and sympathy of a number of people, who gave
her advice how to keep her Negro servant from
running away from her when she reached free
soil. Both at Savannah, when they were boarding
the boat, and at Wilmington, when they were
taking the train to the North, they found it was
the rule to require passengers to register their names.
As neither of them could read and write, Ellen
Craft had put her right hand in a poultice and
supported it with a sling about her neck, pretending
that she was suffering from rheumatism. Even
then, it was with the greatest difficulty that she
was able to persuade the agents of the steamship
and railway companies to sign her name for her.
At length, however, they reached Philadelphia in
safety and for several days found refuge in the
home of philanthropic Quakers in that city. From
there, they went to Boston, where William Craft
secured employment at his trade as cabinet-maker.
They had left their home in Macon in 1848. 
Two years later the Fugitive Slave Law was passed 
and a determined effort was made by many Southern 

slaves, who were living in freedom in many parts
of the North. It was not long before such an
effort was made to get possession of the two fugitives
from Macon. For some months they lived in daily
apprehension of being seized and carried away.
Finally, upon learning that a warrant had been
issued for their arrest, some of their anti-slavery
friends smuggled them aboard one of the ships
leaving Boston for England. Arriving in Liverpool
they went directly to friends in London. Shortly
after their arrival there they went to live in the
town of Hammersmith, not far from London, which
was their home for a number of years. William
Craft secured employment in the African trade,
and took several ship-loads of merchandise out
to Africa where he was able to dispose of them
with special advantage because he was of the same
colour and race as the people with whom he sought
to trade.
After emancipation and the Civil War had made 
it possible for them to return to the country of 
their birth, William and Ellen Craft came back 
to Boston and lived for several years in Cambridge, 
Massachusetts, where their children were educated. 
While they were in England several children were 
born to them, one of them, William, is still living 
there. Another has since become the wife of Dr. 
W. D. Crum, who was collector of customs at 

A grandson of William and Ellen Craft,
Henry K. Craft, who was graduated from Harvard
University in 1908, is, at the time this is written, in
charge of the electrical plant and the teaching of
Electrical Engineering at Tuskegee Institute.
William and Ellen Craft finally returned to Georgia
and passed their last days in a comfortable home
not far from Savannah.
Directly and indirectly, the fugitive slaves probably 
did more to bring about the abolition of slavery 
than any other one agency. The Northern people 
learned from the lips of these fugitives—from the 
strange, romantic, pathetic, and tragic stories they 
told—that the slaves, no matter how ignorant 
or how different in colour or condition they might 
seem, were very much the same kind of human 
beings as themselves. They learned from the 
sufferings of these fugitives, from the desperate 
efforts which they made to escape, that no matter 
what might be said to the contrary the slaves wanted 
to be free.
At the same time, the fugitive slaves learned in 
the United States, in their very efforts to be free, 
something about the nature of freedom that they 
could not have learned in Africa. Slavery, however 
hard or cruel it might be, appeared to the native 
African, as it did to the Greek and Roman, to be 
the natural condition of the majority of men. It 

of their masters and possessed themselves to some
extent of their masters' ideas that they began to
conceive that the natural condition of man was
not slavery but freedom.
When the fugitive slaves came in contact with 
the anti-slavery people of the North they made 
the acquaintance for the first time of a people who 
hated slavery in a way and with an intensity which 
few of them had ever felt or known. They 
learned from these anti-slavery people to believe 
in freedom for its own sake, not only for themselves 
but for every one. They were transformed in this 
way from fugitive slaves to abolitionists. They 
became, as a result, the most determined of antislavery 
people, and many of them devoted their 
lives most unselfishly to securing the freedom of 
other members of their race.
In 1860 it was estimated that the number of 
Negroes that journeyed annually from Canada 
to the slave states to rescue their fellows from 
bondage was about five hundred. These persons 
carried the Underground Railroad and the Underground 
Telegraph into nearly every Southern state.[5]
 Among the other Northern white men who went into the South to abduct 
slaves were the Reverend Calvin Fairbank, the Reverend Charles T. Torrey, and 
Dr. Alexander M. Ross, of Canada. Mr. Fairbank carried off from the neighbourhood 
of Covington, Ky., the Stanton family, father, mother, and six children, by 
packing them in a load of straw. The Reverend Charles T. Torrey went to Maryland 
and from there sent some four hundred slaves over different routes to Canada. 
Dr. Alexander M. Ross made extensive tours through various slave states for the 
purpose of spreading information about Canada and the routes by which that 
country could be reached. He made trips into Maryland, Kentucky, Virginia, and 
Tennessee. He went to New Orleans, and from that point set out upon a journey, 
in the course of which he visited Vicksburg, Selma, and Columbus, Mississippi, 
Augusta, Georgia, and Charleston, South Carolina.—"The Underground Railroad," 
Siebert, p. 28.

CHAPTER XII 
NEGRO SETTLEMENTS IN OHIO AND THE NORTHWEST TERRITORY
A few miles west of Xenia, Ohio, is a quiet 
little community of which one occasionally 
sees the name in the newspapers, but in 
regard to which very little is known by the outside 
world, even among its immediate neighbours. This is 
the Negro town of Wilberforce, which is, however, 
not a town in the ordinary sense of the word, but 
rather a suburb of Xenia, from which it is distant 
an hour's walk and with which it is connected 
only by stage.
What distinguishes Wilberforce from other communities 
in the North is the fact that it is the home 
of what is, so far as I know, the first permanent 
Negro institution of learning established for Negroes 
and by Negroes in the United States. A few years 
ago, I visited this community in order to take part 
in the semi-centennial celebration of the founding 
of the University there. During my visit I was 
especially impressed with the quiet charm of the 
surroundings, the comfort and simplicity of the homes I visited, and the 
general air of culture and 

doubt if there is any Negro community in the
United States in which, in proportion to the population,
there is so large a number of beautiful
and well-conducted homes. Besides that, there
was an air of permanence and stability about this
community which one does not meet elsewhere,
even in the quiet and orderly suburbs that one
frequently finds in the neighbourhood of a good
Negro school. Here, at any rate, it seemed to me,
a certain number of coloured people had found
themselves, had made a permanent settlement
on the soil and were at home.
The history of Wilberforce goes back to a time 
before the War. In its origin, this is representative 
of a number of other Negro communities that 
were established in different parts of Ohio during 
that period. Most of these communities have 
disappeared and been forgotten, but there are 
many coloured people in all parts of the Northern 
states who trace their history back to one or another 
of these little Negro settlements that were started 
partly by fugitive slaves and partly by free coloured 
people, who left the South in order to find a home 
in the free soil of the Northwest Territory.
The thing that gives a peculiar and interesting 
character to many of these ante-bellum Negro 
settlements is that they were made by Southern 
slave-holders who desired to free their slaves and 

were imposed upon emancipation in the Southern
States. Many of the coloured people in these
settlements were the natural children of their
master. For example, John M. Langston, the
first coloured man to represent Virginia in the
Congress of the United States, was freed by the terms
of his father's will, in 1834. In his autobiography,
he has given a vivid description of the manner in
which he, in company with the other slaves who
had been freed at his father's death, made a long
journey across the mountains from Louisa County,
Virginia, to Chillicothe, Ohio. Before his election
to Congress from Virginia, Mr. Langston graduated
in 1849 from Oberlin University, had been admitted
to the bar of Ohio in 1854, and elected clerk of
several Ohio townships. He was the first coloured
man in Ohio, it is said, to be elected to any sort
of office by popular vote.
When John Randolph, of Roanoke, Virginia, 
died, he gave freedom to all his slaves and provided 
that they should be transported to some other 
part of the country, "where not less than two thousand 
and not more than four thousand acres of land 
should be purchased for them." The Randolph 
Freedmen went to Ohio with the purpose of settling 
in Mercer County, but they were not allowed to 
enter upon the land which had been purchased for 
them, because the German settlers in that part of 

was soon after scattered, but descendants
of the Randolph slaves are still living in the neighbourhood
of Piqua and Troy, in Miami County,
Ohio. The most noted of them, as I have learned,
is Goodrich Giles, whose father was a member of
the original immigrants. Mr. Giles now owns four
hundred and twenty-five acres of land just out of
Piqua. He is said to be worth something over
$50,000. Two years ago, a sort of family reunion
of the descendants of the Randolph slaves was
held in Ohio, and, as a result of the gathering, an
organisation was formed among a few of the
descendants for the purpose of investigating their
claims to the land in Mercer County which was
purchased for them under the terms of John
Randolph's will, but of which they never secured
possession.
The little community at Wilberforce grew out 
of a similar effort of a number of Southern planters 
to secure a foothold in a free state for their former 
slaves. In 1856 there was already a considerable 
number of the free Negroes settled at what was 
then known as Tawawa Springs. In that year 
it was decided to establish at this place a school 
for these coloured immigrants and refugees. At 
the time of the breaking out of the War this school 
had nearly one hundred pupils. Many of them 
were the coloured children of the white planters 

the breaking out of the Civil War, however, the
support this school received from its Southern
patrons ceased. The institution soon fell into
decay and, in March, 1863, it was sold for a debt
of ten thousand dollars to the African Methodist
Episcopal Church. This was the origin of
Wilberforce.
Of the little colony of Negro refugees who settled 
in this neighbourhood before 1861, there still remain 
a few families. The memories of others are preserved 
in the names of some of their descendants 
who occupy farms in the neighbourhood. But 
the community has continued to grow. A few 
farmers, attracted by the advantages of the University, 
have purchased farms in the neighbourhood; 
a few former students, who have made a success 
elsewhere, have gone back there to make their 
home. The rest of the community is made up of the 
officers of the school and their families, 
together with some four hundred students.
One thing that has given character to this little 
town, and made it attractive as a residence for 
Negroes, is the number of distinguished men of 
the Negro race who have lived and worked there. 
Among others whose memories are still preserved 
there is Bishop Daniel A. Payne, who was, more 
than any one else, responsible for the existence of 
the colony. He lived there for many years until 

who was a real force in Ohio affairs during his
connection with Wilberforce, lived in this community
for thirty-five years. It is said that he
was the first coloured man in the United States
to represent a constituency where the majority
were white, and the first to be foreman of a jury
where all the other members were white. As
member from Green County to the Ohio Legislature
in 1886 and 1887, he was largely responsible
for the repeal of the remnant of what were known
as the "Black Laws."
Much was said during the anti-slavery agitation 
of the efforts of the Southern Church to justify 
African slavery. There was, in fact, a very serious 
attempt to find justification in the Bible for slavery, 
but any one who will study the history of Christianity 
in the South and its influence upon slavery cannot 
fail to see that, in spite of all that was said by 
individual preachers and in spite of all that was 
done by church organisations, there was always 
a large number of white slave-holders in the South 
who felt deep down in their hearts that slavery 
was wrong. In his will, written in 1819, John 
Randolph says: "I give my slaves their freedom, 
to which my conscience tells me they are justly 
entitled. It has long been a matter of deepest 
regret to me that the circumstances under which 
I inherited them and the obstacles thrown in the 

emancipating them in my lifetime, which it is my
full intention to do in case I can accomplish it."
These words pretty well express the deepest 
sentiment of a great many people who held slaves 
before the Civil War, but owing to the obstacles 
thrown in the way of emancipation, did not go 
so far as John Randolph and actually free their 
slaves. I have often thought that the peculiar 
interest which former slave-holders have manifested 
in their former slaves was due to this feeling that 
they had a special responsibility toward these 
people whom they had held at one time under 
conditions which their consciences could not entirely 
justify.
As a matter of fact, the whole character of the 
anti-slavery campaign in Ohio differed from the 
anti-slavery movements in New York and in New 
England from the fact that so large a number of 
the people who were engaged in the movement 
in Ohio were either themselves men who had 
moved into a free territory in order to free their 
slaves, or they were the descendants of people who 
had been slave-holders.
Benjamin Lundy, the man who first interested 
William Lloyd Garrison in the subject of abolition, 
was a Southerner who had emigrated from Virginia 
to Ohio, and started his first paper, The Genius 
of Universal Emancipation, at Mount Pleasant, 

Birney, who, while he lived at Huntsville, Alabama,
was a member of the American Colonisation Society,
finally freed his slaves and moved with them to
Cincinnati, where he became the leader in the antislavery
movement of Ohio. Dr. John Rankin,
the famous pastor of Ripley, Ohio, whose house,
standing on a hill, and visible from the Kentucky
shores, was descended from the Southern abolitionists
of East Tennessee. Among the fugitives who
took refuge in Dr. Rankin's house was the original
of Eliza Harris, the character in "Uncle Tom's
Cabin," who crossed the Ohio River on the drifting
ice with her child, and was sheltered for several
days at this house on the hill.
Another Southerner who became a prominent 
abolitionist was the famous Levi Coffin, the Quaker, 
representative of a large number of Quakers who 
left North Carolina at various times before the 
Civil War because they had grown to feel that 
slavery was wrong. Levi Coffin was the man who 
bore the title of President of the Underground 
Railroad, and in his reminiscences he has told 
stories of hundreds of fugitives, whom he aided 
to escape from bondage. It is said that he aided 
no less than two thousand fugitives to make their 
way through Ohio to Canada. Quakers coming 
from North Carolina settled in an early day near 
Steubenville, and in a little town called Smithfield 

North Carolina settled there by Quaker masters.
Not only in Ohio, but in Indiana and in Michigan 
there were scattered settlements of free Negroes, 
many of whom had been sent thither by the Quakers 
of North Carolina. In Hamilton County, Indiana, 
a family named Roberts settled on about a thousand 
acres of land in Jackson Township. These were 
joined, afterward, by other families, until there 
was a considerable settlement there, which finally 
gained the name of Robert's Settlement. There 
was another settlement very much like this, in 
Randolph, and still another in Wayne County.
A recent investigator says: 
It is not generally known that in the North there are thousands 
of acres of land to which no individual white man has ever held 
title; the only title under the Government of the United States has 
been in the name of Negroes. But this is a fact and a large part 
of these lands exist in Indiana. In Jackson Township, Hamilton 
County, the Roberts family entered 960 acres of land between 
1835 and 1838, and during the lifetime of its original holders, 
added several hundred acres more to it, all of which was 
unimproved. In 1907, about 700 acres of the original 960 acres 
were owned by Negroes and 627 acres besides, making a total of 
1,327, the larger part of which is now under cultivation. In 
Randolph County 2,000 were entered between 1822 and 1845 by 
a dozen different Negro immigrants, chiefly from North Carolina. 
In Grant County was what is known as the Weaver Settlement. 
In Vigo County, before 1840, the holdings of Negroes amounted 
to 4,000, in this settlement, one man, Dixon Stewart, having 
acquired more than 600 acres.[1]

The interesting thing about these settlements 
scattered throughout the Northwest Territory is, 
as I have suggested, that they represented to a 
very large extent the efforts of the Southern people 
to bring about the emancipation of their own slaves. 
This is particularly true in the case of the Quakers. 
Early in the eighteenth century the Quakers 
began to consider the question of sinfulness of 
holding other members of the human race in the 
condition of servitude. As early as 1688, a small 
body of German Quakers of Germantown, Pennsylvania, 
presented a protest to the Yearly Meeting 
against the "buying, selling, and holding of men 
in slavery," and in 1696, the Yearly Meeting, 
although not yet prepared to take action, sent 
out the advice that "the members should discourage 
the introduction of slaves and be careful of the 
moral and intellectual training of such as they 
held in servitude." From 1746 to 1767 the Quaker, 
John Woolman, of New Jersey, travelled through 
the Middle and Southern states teaching that 
"the practice of continuing slavery is not right." 
And that "liberty is the natural light of all men 
equally."[2]
The minutes of the various Yearly Meetings of 
the Quaker societies show a steady progress in 
respect to the sentiment in regard to slave-holding, 
and in 1776 the Eastern Quarterly Meeting of the 

to manumit their slaves. Friends were prohibited
from importing, buying, or selling slaves, and in
1780 they were prohibited by the Yearly Meeting
from hiring them. In 1818, it is recorded regarding
slaves that "none held them."
But under the laws as they then existed, it was 
not without considerable difficulty that Friends, 
who desired to emancipate their slaves, were permitted 
to do so. In order to evade this law it 
became the custom of Friends to confer upon their 
slaves practical emancipation, allowing them to 
hire themselves out and use for themselves the 
money they earned, although their masters still 
exercised a nominal control over them. In 1817, 
a case came before the court in which William 
Dickinson conveyed a slave to the trustees of the 
Quaker Society of Contentnea to be held in a kind 
of guardianship until he could be manumitted 
under the laws of the state. When this case came 
before the Supreme Court of North Carolina, 
Chief Justice Taylor declared that this practice 
of the Quakers was emancipation in everything 
but name, and therefore contrary to the law. A 
few years later another case occurred in which 
Collier Hill left his slaves to four trustees, one 
of whom was "Richard Graves of the Methodist 
Church," with the injunction to keep the slaves 
for such purposes as "they, the trustees, could 

of the said slaves." The court held that, as it
did not appear that "any personal benefit to the
legatees," was intended, the will "was held to
constitute them trustees for the purpose of
emancipation and that such a purpose was illegal."
It was the difficulties which Southern slave-holders 
who wanted to ameliorate the condition of their 
slaves encountered when they undertook to assist 
their servants to freedom that led the Quakers 
and so many other Southern people, to found the 
settlements I have referred to in Ohio and elsewhere 
in the Northwest Territory.
In the early years of the Colonisation Movement 
the Quakers, with other Southern abolitionists, had 
supported the Colonisation Society, believing that 
that was one method of solving the problem. But, 
as experience proved that that was a wholly inadequate 
remedy, and as many of the coloured 
people did not desire to leave the country in which 
they had been born and bred, people who desired 
to free their slaves were more and more induced to 
send them to the Northwest Territory.
In 1835, the Pennsylvania Young Men's Society, 
a Quaker organisation, interested themselves in 
promoting the emigration of free coloured people 
to Africa. They looked at the matter in a very 
practical way and sent out twenty-six Negro colonists, 
all of whom were proficient in the trades. 

brickmakers, shoemakers, and tailors. Altogether
one hundred and twenty-six emigrants were sent
out in this way, and these established themselves
at Port Cresson, on the coast of what is now Liberia.
These Negro colonists were, however, to such an
extent under the influence of the Quaker doctrine
that, when they were attacked by the native chiefs,
the head of the colony refused to resort to arms.
The result was that eighteen of the colonists were
killed, the houses were all destroyed and those
who were not killed were obliged to flee for their
lives.[3]
Some time in the early part of the last century 
a number of Quakers, who were dissatisfied with 
conditions in the Southern states, moved from 
North Carolina to Cass County, Michigan. They 
brought with them a number of their former slaves. 
And these made the nucleus for a settlement of 
free Negroes which was constantly recruited by 
fugitives from the other side of the Ohio River. In 
1847, this Quaker settlement had become so notorious 
as a refuge for fugitive slaves that a determined 
effort was made on the part of some of the slaveholders 
to recapture their runaways. A number 
of slave-holders, or their representatives, mounted 
and well-armed, crossed the Ohio River in that 
year and, riding across the intervening states, made 

of their property. The effort to recapture the
fugitives was successfully resisted by the Quakers,
coloured people, and the other residents of the
community, and the only result was to advertise
Cass County, Michigan, as a place where Negroes
might live with a reasonable freedom from capture
by their former masters. After the raid a
still larger number of fugitives poured into the
county, the majority of them settling in Calvin
Township.
In 1847, the same year in which the Negro communities 
in Cass County were raided, a large slave 
holder by the name of Saunders, who lived in 
Cabell County, Virginia—now part of West Virginia 
—died, and when his will was opened it was 
found that he had not only freed all his slaves 
but had made a generous provision for the purchase 
of a tract of land in some free State to be divided 
among these people. The Saunders ex-slaves, 
forty-one in number, started northward in 1849 
and, after a long journey, attended by many 
hardships, they finally reached Calvin Township, 
Cass County, Michigan, a few days before 
Christmas.
Sometime in the latter part of 1902, or the early 
part of 1903, I visited Cass County and had an 
opportunity to study, at first hand, the success 
which the descendants of these Saunders ex-slaves 

this time, I found that Calvin Township contained
a population of 759 Negroes and 512 whites. In
addition to these a large Negro population had
overflowed into the adjoining county of Porter, and
to some extent all but two of the towns in the county.
Among the men I met there at that time was a
farmer by the name of Samuel Hawkes, who, I
was informed, on good authority, was worth something
like $50,000. Another farmer whose name I
recall was William Alien. He was born in Logan
County, Ohio, but his parents were among that
numerous class of free coloured people who moved
from North Carolina to the free soil, in order to
preserve their freedom. When I visited his farm,
I found he had fifty head of cattle, ten horses,
three hundred sheep, and twenty-five hogs. He
had paid taxes during the previous year to the
amount of $ 191.00, on property in the two townships
of Porter and Calvin. He had been a justice
of the peace for eighteen years, but resigned that
office, because, as he said, "it took too much time
away from the farm."
One of the supervisors of Calvin Township 
was a farmer by the name of Cornelius Lawson. Of 
the eight schools in Calvin, four of them were taught 
by coloured teachers. As we drove through the 
township, I discovered, posted up beside the road, 
a notice of the annual school meeting. It was 

as I was informed, is a Negro.
Among other things which attracted my attention 
during my visit was the existence in Calvin of the 
Grand Army Post, named after Matthew Artis, 
who was one of the large number of coloured soldiers 
who enlisted from this township during the War. 
The commander of the Post at the time of my visit 
was Bishop Curtis, who was a member of the 54th 
Massachusetts Regiment, took part in the attack on 
Fort Wagner and, it is said, was shot with a fragment 
of the same shell which killed his commander, 
Robert Gould Shaw.
At the present time, Negroes hold the offices 
of supervisor, clerk, road commissioner, and school 
director in the township of Calvin. There are 
two highway commissioners, two justices of the 
peace, two constables, two members of the Board 
of Review, who are Negroes. None of these men, 
I may add, are professional politicians, and none 
of them were elected because of their colour. In 
fact, as near as I could learn, there is no question 
of colour, but merely of fitness for the duties of 
offices in the politics of Cass County.
In a recent study of this township, under the 
title of "Negro Governments in the North," Richard 
R. Wright, Jr., says: 
The Negroes, who make up the township, are, as a rule, landowners. 
There are one hundred and sixty-three Negroes on the 

and with a market value possibly of $400,000. Some of these were
included among the land-owners mentioned having property in other
townships and counties also; and some own city property. The
wealthiest of them owns about 800 acres in all, several pieces of
city property, and has personal property amounting to more than
$18,000. Several families are reported to be worth from $50,000
to $100,000 and one to be worth more than $150,000.
I have stated the facts in regard to this Negro 
colony in Cass County at some length because 
they illustrate what has gone on in a number of 
other similar colonies in Ohio and neighbouring 
states. They show, at any rate, the efforts of those 
Southern people, who sought to give to their slaves 
the advantage of freedom, were not entirely in vain.
The history of these efforts of Southern white 
people and the Southern Negroes to lessen, to some 
extent, the evils of slavery by emigration to the 
free soil of the Northwest Territory, seems to me 
one of the most important chapters in the Story 
of the Negro. It should not be forgotten in this 
connection that Abraham Lincoln was himself born 
in the South and that many, if not most of the 
leaders of the abolition movement in Ohio and Indiana, 
were in full sympathy with that portion of the 
Southern people who wanted to do away with 
slavery. They represented the heart and conscience 
of thousands of others whose voices were drowned 
in the factional political strife which grew up as 
a result of the anti-slavery agitation.

I feel a peculiar interest in the work of those 
men because I believe that the men in the South, 
who quietly, earnestly, and unostentatiously are 
seeking to better conditions in the South to-day, 
are, in a certain sense, the direct descendants of 
those Southern anti-slavery people of Ohio and the 
Middle West. At any rate, they are following 
in the traditions and working in the spirit of these 
earlier men.
 Southern Workman, March, 1908; "Rural Communities in Indiana," Richard 
R. Wright, Jr., pp. 165, 166.

CHAPTER XIII 
THE NEGRO PREACHER AND THE NEGRO CHURCH
ONE of the interesting documents relating to 
the early history of the Negro in the United 
States is a paper, written in the quaint, old-fashioned 
style of a hundred years ago, and entitled: 
"Narrative of the Proceedings of the Coloured People 
During the Awful Calamity in Philadelphia, in 
the Year 1793; and a Refutation of Some of the Censures 
Thrown Upon Them in Some Publications."
In the year 1792 and 1793, Philadelphia was 
stricken with a sort of plague. Hundreds of people 
died and hundreds more left the city, frequently 
leaving the dead unburied in the houses. It was 
believed at this time that Negroes were exempt from 
this epidemic and a call was made upon them to act 
as nurses and to assist in burying the dead. After 
the epidemic was over the terror-stricken inhabitants 
returned again to the city and the charge was made 
that the coloured people, who had acted as nurses, 
had demanded exorbitant prices for their services. 
The narrative to which I have referred is an answer 
to that charge. In this account of the epidemic, the 
authors tell how they were induced to take up this 

in answer to an appeal to the coloured people to
come forward and assist "the distressed, perishing,
and neglected sick."
The narrative goes on to describe the distress which 
the plague brought on the city; it relates in detail 
a number of instances of the heroism of Negro nurses 
during the period when the city was in a condition 
of panic fear; and concludes with a full account of 
the way in which the monies, which came into their 
hands, were expended. From this report it appears 
that one hundred and seventy-seven pounds, of the 
four hundred and eleven expended, was contributed 
from their own pockets, not counting, as the report 
adds, "the cost of hearses, and maintenance of our 
families for seventy days, and the support of five 
hired men during the respective times of their being 
employed; which expenses, together with sundry 
gifts we occasionally made to poor families, might 
reasonably and properly be introduced to show our 
actual situation in regard to profit."
This narrative of the plague in Philadelphia and 
of the services of the coloured people to the citizens 
during this trying period is the more interesting 
because one of the authors of this account, Richard 
Allen, was the founder and first Bishop of the African 
Methodist Church and the other, Absalom Jones, 
established the First African Church of St. Thomas, 
which is sometimes called the first Negro church in 

several churches in some of the Southern states
which were earlier in origin.
Both Allen and Jones, who were the leaders of the 
coloured people of Philadelphia at that time, had been 
slaves and both had purchased their freedom. 
Richard Allen was born February 14, 1760, a slave to 
Benjamin Chew, of Philadelphia. He was afterward 
sold with his father and mother, and his three 
brothers and sisters, to a man by the name of Stokeley, 
in Delaware. Of his master Richard Allen says, 
in his autobiography, "He was more like a father to 
his slaves than anything else."
After he purchased his freedom, Allen became 
an itinerant preacher, working, meanwhile, as a common 
labourer at whatever he could get to do. During 
the Revolution he was employed as a teamster 
hauling salt. He had his regular places of stopping 
along the road, where he would preach to whoever 
were willing to come together to listen to him. 
In 1784, he attended the General Conference, at 
Baltimore, Maryland, which was the first General 
Conference of the Methodist Church in America, 
and in 1786 he came to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. 
About this time, because of the influx from the 
country, the coloured population of Philadelphia was 
increasing rapidly and the white congregation of 
St. George's Church, where they attended, determined 
to force them into the galleries. Allen had already 

so that the coloured people were already prepared,
to some extent, for secession. The crisis was reached
one Sunday morning when the attempt was made
to move Jones and Allen from their accustomed
places in the body of the church into the gallery,
whereupon they and their followers rebelled and
walked out. On April 17, 1787, the coloured portion
of this congregation formed, under the leadership
of Allen and Jones, what was known as the Free
African Society. The preamble of the articles of
association, upon which this society was founded,
is interesting as showing the thoughts which were
stirring in the minds of the leaders of the coloured
people at that time. The preamble is as follows:
Whereas, Absalom Jones and Richard Allen, two men of the 
African Race who, for their religious life and conversation, have 
obtained a good report among men, these persons from a love of 
the people of their own complexion whom they beheld with sorrow, 
because of their irreligious and uncivilised state, often communed 
together upon this painful and important subject in order to form 
some kind of religious body; but there being too few to be found 
under the like concern, and those who were, differed in their 
religious sentiments; with these circumstances they laboured for 
some time, till it was proposed after a serious communication 
of sentiments that a society should be formed without regard to 
religious tenets, provided the persons live an orderly and sober 
life, in order to support one another in sickness, and for the benefit 
of their widows and fatherless children.
The Free African Society prepared the way for 
the African Methodist Episcopal Church, which 

later, in 1790, when Allen and a few followers withdrew
from the Free African Society and started an
Independent Methodist Church. Allen's congregation
worshipped at first in a blacksmith shop on
Sixth, near Lombard Street. The other members
of the society then became members of the Episcopal
Church under the leadership of Jones and, in 1794,
built St. Thomas Church, at the corner of Fifth and
Philadelphia streets.
The little society maintained by Allen in the 
blacksmith shop grew rapidly in membership. 
Some time in 1794, also, Bethel Church was erected by 
Allen and his followers. About this same time the 
coloured people withdrew from the white congregations 
in Baltimore and New York, and in 1816 
a conference was held at the Bethel Church in 
Philadelphia, which resulted in the establishment of 
the African Methodist Episcopal Church, with 
Richard Allen as first Bishop.
Six years after Allen withdrew from the Free 
African Society in Philadelphia, coloured members 
of the Methodist Episcopal Church in New York 
decided to hold separate meetings, in which they 
"might have an opportunity to exercise their 
spiritual gifts among themselves, and thereby be 
more useful to one another." They erected a 
church, which was dedicated in 1800, and to 
which they gave the name, African Methodist 

nucleus of what is now known as the "Zion"
Methodist connection. From 1801 to 1820 this
organisation was under the pastoral supervision of
the Methodist Episcopal Church, but during that
time it had its own preachers. In 1820 this arrangement
was terminated and a union of coloured Methodist
congregations in New York, New Haven,
Long Island, and Philadelphia was formed. These
churches together became the African Methodist
Episcopal Zion Connection.
Directly after the War the two coloured branches 
of the Methodist Church invaded the Southern 
states. At that time, there were 207,742 coloured 
members of the Methodist Church, South. Within 
a few years, much the larger proportion of the 
coloured members of the Southern Methodist Church 
joined either one or the other of the African Methodist 
connections so that in 1866 the Methodist Church, 
South, had only 78,742 coloured members. In that 
year, the Church authorised these coloured members, 
with their preachers, to organise separate congregations, 
and in 1870 two Bishops were appointed 
to organise the coloured conferences into a separate 
and independent church. This new connection 
took the name of the Coloured Methodist Episcopal 
Church.
In 1908, representatives of the three coloured 
Methodist connections met in the First Council of the 

Washington, D. C. Its purpose was to bring the
three more important organisations among the
coloured Methodists into closer working relations
with each other, in the hope that eventually a compact
organisation might be formed which would
unite in one body more than 13,000 churches and
over 1,500,000 communicants.
The Negro seems, from the beginning, to have 
been very closely associated with the Methodist 
Church in the United States. When the Reverend 
Thomas Coke was ordained by John Wesley as 
Superintendent or Bishop of the American Society 
in 1784, he was accompanied on most of his travels 
throughout the United States by Harry Hosier, a 
coloured minister who was at the same time the 
Bishop's servant and an evangelist of the Church. 
Harry Hosier, who was the first American Negro 
preacher of the Methodist Church in the United 
States, was one of the notable characters of his day. 
He could not read or write, but he was pronounced 
by Dr. Benjamin Rush the greatest orator in, 
America. He travelled extensively through the 
New England and Southern states and shared the 
pulpits of the white ministers whom he accompanied. 
But he seems to have excelled them all in popularity 
as a preacher.
It is said that on one occasion, in Wilmington, 
Delaware, where Methodism early became popular, 

the Methodist Church, came together to hear Bishop
Asbury. The church was so crowded that they were
not able to get in, so they stood outside and listened,
as they supposed, to the Bishop, but in reality they
heard Harry Hosier. They were greatly impressed,
and before leaving, one of them was heard to remark
that "if all Methodist preachers could preach like
the Bishop, more of us would like to hear him."
Some one replied that "that was not the Bishop, but
his servant." This served to raise the Bishop still
higher in their estimation, for they concluded, if
the servant was so eloquent what must the master
be.[1] Harry Hosier remained popular as a preacher
to the last. Francis Asbury, Associate-bishop,
stated that the best way to get a large congregation
was to announce that Harry was going to preach.
He died in Philadelphia in 1810.
From the first the Methodist Church was strongly 
anti-slavery although the sentiment against slavery 
was always stronger in the North than in the South. 
The struggle which led to the separation of the 
Southern and Northern churches, in 1844, was brought 
about because of the censure voted against Bishop 
Andrew for having married in Georgia a woman who 
owned slaves. But even after the separation, the 
Southern organisation maintained, at least formally, 

discipline, in 1846, declared:
That we are as much as ever convinced of the great evil of slavery. 
Therefore, no slave-holder shall be eligible to any official position in 
our Church hereafter, where the laws of the state in which he lives 
will admit of emancipation and permit the liberated slaves to enjoy 
freedom. When any travelling preacher becomes an owner of a 
slave or slaves, by any means, he shall forfeit his ministerial character 
in our Church, unless he executes, if it be practicable, a legal 
emancipation of such slaves, conformable to the laws of the state 
in which he lives.[2]
Methodism had started in England among the 
poor and the outcast; it was natural, therefore, that 
when its missionaries came to America they should 
seek to bring into the Church the outcast and neglected 
people, and especially the slaves. In some 
parts of the South the Methodist meeting-houses 
were referred to by the more aristocratic denominations 
as "the Negro churches." This was due to 
the fact that the Methodists often began their work 
in a community with an appeal to the slaves.
Methodism began in the early part of the nineteenth 
century in Wilmington, North Carolina, in 
this way. A Methodist preacher by the name of 
William Meredith began his work among the slaves. 
Through the penny collections which he took from 
the black people and the scanty contributions of the 
poor whites, he purchased a lot and completed a 
building. Bishop Francis Asbury visited the church 

delivered a sermon in the same church at sunrise
the same day.[3]
The Methodist Church in Fayetteville, North 
Carolina, was started earlier than that at Wilmington, 
but in much the same way. The story of the 
founding of that church is told in some detail in 
Bassett's History of Slavery in North Carolina. 
The author says: 
Late in the eighteenth century, Fayetteville had but one church 
organisation, the Presbyterian, and that had no building. One 
day there arrived in town Henry Evans, a full-blooded free Negro 
from Virginia, who was moving to Charleston, South Carolina, 
where he proposed to follow the trade of shoemaking. He was, 
perhaps, free-born; he was a Methodist and a licensed local 
preacher. In Fayetteville, he observed that the coloured people 
"were wholly given to profanity and lewdness, never hearing 
preaching of any denomination." He felt it his duty to stop and 
work among them. He worked at his trade during the week and 
preached on Sunday. The whites became alarmed and the Town 
Council ordered him to stop preaching. He then met his flock in 
the "sand hills," desolate places out of the jurisdiction of the 
Town Council. Fearing violence, he made his meetings secret 
and changed the place of meeting from Sunday to Sunday. He 
was particular to violate no law, and to all the whites he showed 
the respect which their sense of cast superiority demanded. Public 
Opinion began to change, especially when it was noticed that slaves 
who had come under his influence were more docile for it. Some 
prominent whites, most of whom were women, became interested 
in his cause. They attended his meetings and through their 
influence opinion was reversed. Then a rude frame building was 
erected within the town limits and a number of seats were reserved 

services. The preacher's reputation spread. The white portion
of the congregation increased till the Negroes were crowded out of
their seats. Then the boards were knocked from the sides of the
house and sheds were built on either hand and in these the blacks
were seated. By this time the congregation, which had been
unconnectional at first, had been taken into the regular Methodist
connection and a regular white preacher had been sent to it.
But the heroic founder was not displaced. A room was built for
him in the rear of the pulpit, and there he lived till his death in
1810. . . . His last speech to his people is noteworthy.
Directly after the morning sermon for the whites it was customary
to have a sermon for the blacks. On the Sunday before Evans's
death, as the latter meeting was being held, the door of his little
shed room opened and he tottered forward. Leaning on the altar
rail he said: "I have come to say my last word to you. It is this:
None but Christ. Three times I have had my life in jeopardy for
preaching the gospel to you. Three times I have broken the ice
on the edge of the water and swam across the Cape Fear to preach
the gospel to you, and if in my last hour I could trust to that, or
anything but Christ crucified, for my salvation, all should be lost
and my soul perish forever." Of these words Bishop Capers justly
says that they were worthy of St. Paul.[4]
During the Colonial times the Baptists, to which 
denomination at the present time the majority of the 
Negroes in the United States belong, were a persecuted 
people, not only in New England but in Virginia. 
At that time this sect drew its followers very 
largely from the poorer people who did not own 
slaves, and it was therefore natural that its members 
should be opposed to slavery. The Baptist Church, 
however, did not, as did the Methodists, make 
an effort to draw the Negroes into the churches, but 

slaves of their own members, and paid particular
attention to the relations of the master and slave.
In 1778, it was decided that a marriage between
slaves ought to be respected, even though it was
against the law of the land. In 1783 the Sandy
Creek Association of North Carolina declared that a
master should give his servants the liberty to attend
family prayers in his house, that he should exhort
them to attend, but not use force. Among the
older coloured bishops and ministers, in both the
Methodist and Baptist churches, there are a number
who attribute their religious life to the influence
and teachings which they received through
this personal contact with their masters and masters'
families.
John Jasper, the famous pastor of the Sixth Mount 
Zion Baptist Church, Richmond, Virginia, always 
spoke with the greatest reverence of his former 
master. The Reverend John Jasper was known as a 
preacher for sixty years in and about Richmond, 
twenty-five of which he was a slave. He became a 
national figure as a result of his efforts to prove 
by the Bible, that "the sun," as he put it, "do move" 
Recently, William E. Hatcher, a Southern white 
man, who knew Jasper for many years, admired 
him for his sincerity and valued him for the influence 
that he exercised over his people, has written the 
story of John Jasper's life. One of the interesting 

conversion. At the time this took place he was a
slave of Mr. Samuel Hargrove, and was employed
as a tobacco stemmer in a tobacco factory in Richmond.
One day he fell to shouting, while he was
at work, and nearly started a revival in the tobacco
factory. His master, hearing the uproar, called
him into the office. Jasper explained what had
come over him and that he really did not mean to
make any noise. His own account of what then
happened, which Mr. Hatcher has given in his own
words, is as follows:
Mars' Sam was settin' wid his eyes a little down to de flo' an' 
wid a pritty quiv'r m his voice he say very slo': "John I b'lieve 
dat way myself. I luv de Saviour dat you have jes' foun', now as 
you did. Den Mars' Sam did er thing dat nearly made me drop 
to de flo. He git out of his chair, an' walk over to me an' giv' 
me his han', and he say: "John, I wish you mighty well. Your 
Saviour is mine, an' we are bruthers in de Lord." When he say 
dat, I turn 'round an' put my arm agin de wall, an' held my mouf 
to keep from shoutin'. Mars' Sam well know de good he du me.
Art'r awhile he say: "John, did you tell eny of'em in thar 'bout 
your conversion?" And I say: 'Yes, Mars' Sam, I tell 'em fore 
I kno'd lt, an' I feel like tellin' everybody in de worl' about it" 
Den he say: "John, you may tell it. Go back in dar an' go up-stars 
an tell 'em all 'bout it, an' den downstars an' tell de hogshed 
men an' de drivers an' eberybody what de Lord has dun for you."
By dis time Mars' Sam's face was rainin' tears, an' he say: "John 
you needn' work no mo' to-day. I giv' you holiday. Art'r you' 
git thru tellin3 it here at de factory, go up to de house an' tell your 
folks; go 'round to your neighbours an' tell dem; go enywhere 
you wan' to an' tell de good news. It'll do you good, do dem good,' 
an' help to hon'r your Lord an' Saviour."

John Jasper always contended that his master 
made a preacher of him. "Oft'n as I preach," he 
said in one of his sermons, "I feel that I'm doin' 
what my ol' marster tol' me to do. If he was here 
now, I think he would fil' up dem kin' black eyes of 
his, an' say: 'Dat's right, John; still tellin' it; fly 
like de angel, an' wherever you go carry de Gospel 
to de people.'"[5]
John Jasper was born in 1812, and did not secure 
his freedom until 1864. He preached, as slave and 
freeman, for something over sixty years. When he 
died, in 1899, the Richmond Dispatch said of him: 
He was a national character, and he and his philosophy were 
known from one end of the land to the other. Some people have 
the impression that John Jasper was famous simply because he 
flew in the face of the scientists and declared that the sun moved. 
In one sense, that is true, but it is also true that his fame was due, 
in great measure, to a strong personality, to a deep, earnest conviction, 
as well as to a devout Christian character. Some preachers 
might have made this assertion about the sun's motion without 
having attracted any special attention. The people would have 
laughed over it, and the incident would have passed by as a summer 
breeze. But John Jasper made an impression upon his generation, 
because he was sincerely and deeply in earnest in all that he 
said. No man could talk with him in private, or listen to him 
from the pulpit, without being thoroughly convinced of that fact. 
His implicit trust in the Bible and everything in it, was beautiful 
and impressive. He had no other lamp by which his feet were 
guided. He had no other science, no other philosophy. He took 
the Bible in its literal significance; he accepted it as the inspired 
word of God; he trusted it with all his heart and soul and mind; 

Bible—scientists and philosophers and theologians to the contrary
notwithstanding.
John Jasper was a survival of the ante-bellum 
days. He was representative of the "old-time" 
Negro preacher, of the men who were the natural 
leaders of the slaves on the plantation. He lived in 
a period, however, when, in many respects, the antebellum 
preacher was on the decline. In the early 
days, before the severe restrictions were put upon 
the education of the slaves, many of these men were 
educated and some of them preached in the white 
churches.
Among the most noted of the early Negro preachers 
was George Lisle, who began preaching to the slaves 
at Savannah, Georgia, during the War of the Revolution. 
After the evacuation of the country by the 
British in 1782 and 1783 he went with his master to 
Jamaica. The existence of the Baptist Church 
among the Negroes in Jamaica is due to this man. 
Before his departure for Jamaica he baptised a slave 
of Mr. Jonathan Bryan, by the name of Andrew.
Andrew Bryan became in after years a great 
preacher. At the present time there are two churches 
in Savannah, one of them the Bryan Baptist in the 
Yamacraw District and the other the First African, 
both of which claim descent from the little congregation 
of slaves which Andrew Bryan drew around him 
in the years after his baptism and previous to 1788, 

his congregation formally constituted a church.
The story of the struggle of this little congregation 
to maintain its existence against the prejudice that 
existed at that time is interesting because it shows 
the quality of some of these early slave preachers. 
In his volume, "The Gospel Among the Slaves," the 
Reverend W. T. Harrison, of the Methodist Church, 
South, says of the origin of the First Baptist Church 
in Savannah: 
Their evening assemblies were broken up and those found 
present were punished with stripes. Andrew Bryan and Samson, 
his brother, converted about a year after him, were twice imprisoned, 
and they with about fifty others were whipped. When publicly 
whipped, and bleeding under his wounds, Andrew declared that he 
rejoiced not only to be whipped, but would freely suffer death for 
the cause of Jesus Christ; and that while he had life and opportunity 
he would continue to preach Christ. He was faithful to his 
vow, and by patient continuance in well-doing he put to silence 
and shame his adversaries, and influential advocates and patrons 
were raised up for him. Liberty was given Andrew by the civil 
authority to continue his religious meetings under certain regulations. 
His master gave him the use of his barn at Brampton, 
three miles from Savannah, where he preached for two years with 
little interruption.
Toward the close of the year 1792, the Church 
which Andrew Bryan had founded began to build a 
place of worship. The city gave the lot for the 
purpose and the building, which still stands on the old 
site, though it is not the original structure erected in 
1972, has become one of the historic landmarks of 
the city.

Among the other famous ante-bellum Negro 
preachers was a man known as Jack of Virginia, of 
whom Dr. William S. White, of the Southern Presbyterian 
Church, has written a biography. "Uncle 
Jack," as he was popularly known, was an African 
preacher of Nottoway County, Virginia. He had 
been captured from his parents in Africa and brought 
over in one of the last cargoes of slaves admitted to 
Virginia. He was sold to a remote and obscure 
plantation in Nottoway County which, at that time, 
was in the backwoods where there was almost no 
opportunity for religious life and instruction. In 
some way or other, however, he came under the 
influence of the Reverend Dr. John Blair Smith, 
President of Hampden-Sydney College, and of Dr. 
William Hill, and Dr. Archibald Alexander, of Princeton, 
both of whom were at that time young theological 
students. He learned to read from his master's 
children and became, as Professor Ballagh says in 
his work on Slavery in Virginia, "so full of the spirit 
and knowledge of the Bible that he was recognised 
among the whites as a powerful expounder of Christian 
doctrine, was licensed to preach by the Baptist 
Church, and preached from plantation to plantation 
within a radius of thirty miles, as he was 
invited by overseers or masters."
His freedom was purchased by a subscription of 
white people, and he was given a home and a patch 
of land for his support. It is said that he exercised 

flock that masters, instead of punishing their slaves,
often referred them to the discipline of their pastor,
of which they stood in greater dread. Professor
Ballagh says that the most refined and aristocratic
people paid tribute to him, and he was instrumental
in the conversion of many whites. He preached for
forty years among blacks and whites alike, but
voluntarily gave up his preaching in obedience
to the law of 1832, which was passed as a result
of the Nat Turner Insurrection. Dr. William S.
White, his biographer, speaking of Jack of Virginia's
relations with the white people in his
neighbourhood, says:
He was invited into their houses, sat with their families, took 
part in their social worship, sometimes leading the prayer at the 
family altar. Many of the most intelligent people attended upon 
his ministry and listened to his sermons with great delight. Indeed, 
previous to the year 1825, he was considered by the best judges 
to be the best preacher in that county. His opinions were 
respected, his advice followed, and yet he never betrayed the least 
symptoms of arrogance or self-conceit. His dwelling was a rude 
log cabin, his apparel of the plainest and coarsest materials. 
This was because he wished to be fully identified with his class. 
He refused gifts of better clothing, saying, "These clothes are a 
great deal better than are generally worn by people of my colour, 
and, besides, if I wear them, I find I shall be obliged to think about 
them even at meeting."[6]
Another noted Negro preacher was Ralph Freeman, 
who was a slave in Anson County, North 

He was ordained a regular minister and travelled
about, preaching at various places in his own
and adjoining counties. It is said that the Rev.
Joseph Magee, a white Baptist minister, became
much attached to Ralph. They used to travel
and preach together and it was agreed between
them that the survivor should preach the funeral
of the one who died first.
It so happened that the Rev. Joseph Magee died 
first and the task of preaching his funeral sermon fell 
to Ralph. In the meantime, however, "his friend 
had moved to the West, and the coloured preacher 
was sent for all the way from North Carolina to 
come and fulfil the promise he had made in 
earlier years. Ralph Freeman continued to preach 
for a number of years. At last his lips were 
closed also, much to his sorrow, by the law 
which forbade Negroes to preach to white congregations.
Although Negro Baptists did not succeed in 
organising an independent National Church until 
after the War, coloured Baptists were the first among 
the Negroes to set up separate churches for themselves. 
In 1836, coloured Baptists in the North 
began to draw together. The Providence Baptist 
Association was organised in that year in Ohio. 
Two years later the Wood River Baptist Association 
was organised in Illinois. These local or district 

rapidly after the Civil War. About 1876 the New
England states formed an organisation which aimed
to be national in its character. In 1880 the
Negro Baptists of the Southern states met at Montgomery,
Alabama, to form a Foreign Mission
Convention. Six years later the Southern states
formed the American National Convention, and
in 1894, at Montgomery, Alabama, measures were
taken to bring together into one organisation all
the coloured Baptist organisations in the United
States, seeking to be national in character. By
1897 this national Baptist organisation had been
completed.
According to statistics furnished by the eighty-nine 
state organisations and six hundred district 
associations there were, in 1908, 18,307 organised 
Negro Baptist churches, and 17,088 ordained 
preachers in the United States. According to these 
same statistics the total membership of these churches 
is 2,330,535. The total expenditures of the 
coloured Baptist Church for church, Sunday-school 
and educational work in 1907 is reported to have been 
$2,525,025.66.
The two great independent Negro denominations, 
the Methodist and the Baptist, were the first to 
break away from the older church organisations of 
the white people. These two organisations contain 
by far the larger number of the Negroes of the 

were the first to seek to establish independent Negro
churches. In all the other religious denominations,
with the exception of the Roman Catholics, Negroes
have separate churches, which stand in a relation of
greater or less dependence upon the denominations
to which they belong.
The Catholics were the first to send missionaries 
to Africa. Therefore , the Catholic Church is the 
First Christian Church into which Negroes were 
received as members. As far back as 1490, two 
years before the discovery of America, Catholic 
missionaries visited the mouth of the Kongo River. 
For several centuries after this a Negro Catholic 
kingdom existed in that part of Africa. It was 
eventually overthrown, as a result of wars with 
neighbouring peoples. Saint Benedict, the Moor, 
who died in Palermo, Sicily, in 1589, and was afterward 
canonised by the Catholic Church, was the 
son of a Negro slave woman. Some of the first 
Negroes to reach America were Catholics. They 
came over with the early Spanish discoverers.
Negro Catholics have never been numerous in the 
United States, except in Maryland, which was a 
Catholic colony, and in Louisiana. In 1829, a 
number of Catholic refugees came to Baltimore from 
Santo Domingo, and at this time there was founded, 
in connection with the Oblate Sisters of Providence 
Convent, the St. Francis Academy for Girls. The 

and seminary, were coloured women who first came
to Baltimore with the Santo Domingo refugees.
A few years later, in 1842, an order known as the
Sisters of the Holy Family was founded among the
free coloured women of New Orleans. The sisters
of this order now have charge of three asylums,
one of which is the Lafon Boys' Asylum, donated
by Mr. Thomy Lafon, the Negro philanthropist,
in 1893. The same order carries on schools at
Baton Rouge, Mandeville, Madisonville and Lafayette,
Louisiana; at Galveston and Houston,
Texas; and Pine Bluff, Arkansas. The same Sisterhood
has a government school at Stann Creek,
British Honduras.
Outside the Catholic Church the first religious 
denomination in the United States to receive Negroes 
was the Protestant Episcopal Church. In 1624, 
only five years after slavery was introduced into 
Virginia, a Negro child named William was baptised 
and from that time the names of Negroes can be 
found upon the register of most of the older churches 
in Virginia. The first eminent coloured minister 
in the Episcopal Church in the United States was 
Alexander Crummell, who was born in New York 
City in 1818, but his father was a native of the Gold 
Coast, Africa. After his graduation at Cambridge 
University, England, Mr. Crummel went to Africa as 
a missionary. He was for a time a professor in the 

the United States and was, for twenty-two years,
rector of the St. Luke's Church, Washington, D. C.
He is the author of several books upon Africa, and
upon the Negro in the United States. In 1897 he
established the American Negro Academy, which
was designed to bring learned men of the Negro race
together and to publish the results of their investigations,
particularly upon subjects of interest to the
Negro race.
Something like one hundred and fifty Negroes 
have been ordained as ministers in the Episcopal 
Church since Alexander Crummell entered that 
ministry in 1839. In 1874, James Theodore Holly 
was consecrated Bishop of Haiti and eleven 
years later Samuel David Ferguson was made Missionary 
Bishop of Cape Palmas, and adjacent 
regions in West Africa. There are several Negro 
archdeacons of the Episcopal Church in the Southern 
states. One of them is James S. Russell, who 
was a student at Hampton Institute, at the time 
I was there, and is now principal of the flourishing 
Episcopal school for Negroes at Lawrenceville, 
Virginia.
For some reason or other, probably because its 
teachings did not address themselves to the comprehension 
of the slaves, or did not appeal to their 
emotions, the Presbyterian Church was never as 
popular among the coloured people as the Methodist 

fact, there were numerous coloured people who were
members of the Presbyterian Church in the Southern
states before the War. Among them was one free
Negro by the name of John Chavis, who became
famous. He was a full-blooded Negro and was
born in Granville County, North Carolina, about
1763. He early in life attracted the attention of
the white people and was sent to Princeton College
as an experiment, to see if a Negro could take a
collegiate education. The experiment succeeded
and Chavis became so thoroughly educated that he
afterward became a minister and preached with
considerable success until 1831, when he was silenced
by the law forbidding Negroes to preach.
After that he set himself up as a school-teacher, 
teaching in Granville, Wake and Chatham counties 
in North Carolina. Among his patrons were the 
best people in the neighbourhood. Willie P. Mangum, 
afterward United States Senator, and Priestley 
Mangum, his brother, Archibald and John 
Henderson, sons of Chief-Justice Henderson, Charles 
Manly, afterward Governor of the state, Dr. James 
L. Wortham, of Oxford, North Carolina, and many 
other men who did not become prominent, were his 
pupils. Reverend James H. Horner, who is said to 
have been one of the best teachers in North Carolina, 
said of John Chavis: "My father not only went to 
school to him, but boarded in his family. The 

the state."
In his study of Slavery in the State of North 
Carolina, John Spencer Bassett says: 
From a source of the greatest respectability I learned that this 
Negro was received as an equal socially and asked to table by the 
most respectable of the neighbourhood. Such was the position of 
the best specimen of the Negro race in North Carolina in the days 
before race prejudices were aroused.[7]
After the Civil War large numbers, as many as 
seventy per cent., it is said, of the coloured members 
of the Presbyterian Church went into the African 
Methodist and into the Baptist churches. Others 
joined the Northern Presbyterian church, which 
had begun to establish schools and missions in the 
South among the Negroes directly after the War. 
In 1902, the Presbyterian Church, North, had 
eleven Presbyteries in the Southern states with 
two hundred and nine ministers, only seven of 
whom were white.
In spite of the large secession from the Presbyterian 
Church, South, a considerable number of coloured 
people still clung to the Southern branch of that 
Church. In the latter part of the Nineties, however, 
these coloured churches, at their own request, were 
set apart from the white churches and organised 
under the title of the Afro-American Presbyterian 
Church.

The Congregational Church, through the medium 
of the American Missionary Association, began, 
directly .after the War, to raise large sums of 
money and establish schools for the Freedmen. A 
number of these schools, like the one at Hampton, 
have now become independent of the organisation 
which started them. But a large number of 
schools are still being supported in different parts of 
the South by funds of the American Board. 
Around these schools there has usually grown up 
a coloured Congregational church. At first, these 
churches were located, for the most part, in the 
cities, but in recent years as the schools in 
the country districts have increased, the number 
of churches outside the city has multiplied. 
In 1902, the number of coloured Congregational 
churches was 230; the number of ministers and 
missionaries, 139, and the number of church 
members, 12,155.[8]
In 1890, the United States Census Bureau undertook 
a complete census of the religious denominations. 
Since that time no complete and systematic 
study of all the denominations has been made. 
The following table, however, prepared by Dr. 
H. K. Carroll, who had charge of the preparation 
of the church statistics of the Eleventh Census, 
although it does not agree entirely with the statistics 
furnished by the religious societies, probably shows 

of strength of the different denominations:
| Denomination | Ministers | Churches | Communicants | 
| Regular Baptist | 13,751 | 19,030 | 1,864,877 | 
| Church of God (Baptist) | 71 | 93 | 8,500 | 
| Christian | 88 | 34 | 956 | 
| Union American Methodist Episcopal | 138 | 255 | 18,500 | 
| African Methodist Episcopal | 6,170 | 6,920 | 858,323 | 
| African American Methodist Protestant | 200 | 125 | 4,000 | 
| African Methodist Episcopal Zion | 3,986 | 3,280 | 583,106 | 
| Congregational Methodist | 5 | 5 | 319 | 
| Zion Union Apostolic (Methodist) | 30 | 32 | 2,346 | 
| Coloured Methodist Episcopal | 2,727 | 2,758 | 224,700 | 
| Evangelical Missionary (Methodist) | 92 | 47 | 5,014 | 
| Cumberland Presbyterian | 80 | 150 | 13,020 | 
| Total | 27,338 | 32,729 | 3,583,661 | 
| Coloured members in Methodist  Episcopal Churches  | 
2,161 | 3,611 | 299,985 | 
| Coloured members in other bodies  (est'd)  | 
900 | 1,400 | 150,000 | 
| Grand total | 30,399 | 37,740 | 4,033,646 | 
| Grand total in 1890 | 23,770 | 2,674,177 | |
| Gains in eighteen years | 13,970 | 1,359,469 | 
These figures show that nearly half of the Negro 
population of the United States are members of one 
or the other of the great religious denominations. 
This means that, among the Negro population, the 
church plays a much more important part than it 
does among the white population, since considerably 

not enrolled in any church organisation. The
influence of the Negro Church is particularly strong
in the Southern states. In fact there is hardly a
community or a plantation in the South so remote,
or so obscure, that it does not possess some sort of
place where the coloured people meet and worship.
These churches are not always what they should 
be. The coloured preacher is often ignorant and 
sometimes even immoral, but in spite of this fact the 
Church remains the centre for all those influences 
that are making for the welfare and the upbuilding 
of the communities in which they are situated. All 
these churches are connected more or less directly 
with the larger denominational organisations and 
thus serve, to some extent, to connect the people in 
them with the life and progress of the outside world.
I shall have something to say in a subsequent 
chapter in regard to the social work of the Negro 
Church. I wish to emphasise at this point, however, 
that the Negro Church represents the masses 
of the Negro people. It was the first institution to 
develop out of the life of the Negro masses and it 
still retains the strongest hold upon them. As the 
Negro Church grows stronger materially and 
spiritually so do the masses of the Negro people 
advance. There is no better indication of the 
progress of the masses of the people than the growth 
and development of these great Negro organisations.
 Stevens's "History of the M. E. Church," pp. 174, 175. Quoted in Williams's 
"History of the Negro Race in America," p. 467, vol. ii.
 "Slavery in the State of North Carolina." Johns Hopkins University 
Studies, John Spencer Bassett, p. 55.
 "Early Methodism in Wilmington," Dr. A. M. Chreitzberg, in the annual 
publication of the Historical Society of the North Carolina Conference, 1897, 
quoted in "Slavery in North Carolina," p. 57.

CHAPTER XIV 
THE NEGRO ABOLITIONISTS
A Good many stones have been told about 
John Randolph of Roanoke, and his peculiar 
opinions in regard to slavery. One of 
these concerns his reply to a man who asked him 
who, in his opinion, was the greatest orator he 
had ever heard. John Randolph was a great 
orator himself, and he had known Patrick Henry, 
but, in reply to this question, he said: "The greatest 
orator I ever heard was a woman. She was a 
slave. She was a mother, and her rostrum was 
the auction block." With that he arose and 
imitated the thrilling tones with which this slave 
woman had appealed to the sympathy and to the 
justice of the bystanders, concluding with an indignant 
denunciation of them and of the traffic in 
which they were engaged.
"There," said Mr. Randolph, in conclusion, 
"was eloquence. I have heard no man speak like 
that."
This story will serve to illustrate what was, from 
the beginning, the strongest force in the abolition 
of slavery in the South. I mean the appeal which 

but in actions, to the sympathy of their masters.
It was the faithful servants of the Southern masters
who were the first Negro abolitionists.
This appeal which the Negro made for freedom 
merely through his humanity made its deepest 
impression, apparently, upon those people who 
had come to this country to obtain liberty for themselves. 
One of the very earliest of the anti-slavery 
men in the country was Anthony Benezet, the son 
of Huguenot parents who escaped from France 
on account of the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. 
He established and taught an evening school in 
Philadelphia for the instruction of Negroes and, 
as early as 1780, he made an effort to induce the 
Legislature of Pennsylvania to begin the work of 
emancipation. Anthony Benezet, after coming to 
America, joined the order of Friends, or Quakers 
as they were called. The people of this sect, who 
were more persecuted than any of the other English 
denominations that came to America to obtain 
religious freedom, were the first to give and to 
demand for the Negro emancipation.
Another thing that early aroused sympathy for 
the Negro slave was the sufferings of Americans 
who had been carried by the Barbary pirates into 
slavery in Africa. This was particularly true 
in Massachusetts and in New England, where a 
large proportion of the people were engaged in 

from these piratical attacks. Among other Americans
carried into African slavery was one of the
first graduates of Harvard University, and in 1793,
no less than one hundred and fifteen Americans
were held in slavery in Algiers. The fact of the
sufferings of the white slaves taken to Africa is
frequently mentioned by the early abolitionists in
Massachusetts as a reason for freeing the black
slaves in America. One of the earliest books
written in this country, which obtained any reputation
abroad, was the story of the "Algerine Captive,"
which describes the hardships of these white slaves
in Africa, and seeks to turn the sentiment aroused
by this foreign white slavery against the black
slavery at home.[1]
As a rule the Negro was not an anti-slavery 
agitator. In the South the free Negroes were 
frequently themselves slave-holders. Nevertheless, 
free Negroes were known to be in sympathy with 
the desire of the slaves to be free. That was one 
reason why they were regarded by slave-holders 

were very largely engaged in the work of the Underground
Railroad. In his history of that institution,
Professor Wilbur H. Siebert has preserved the names
of more than one hundred and forty coloured
people, who maintained Underground Railroad
stations in different parts of the United States. In
Massachusetts there were Henry Box Brown and
William Wells Brown, both of them fugitive slaves.
Henry Box Brown was so named from the manner
in which he escaped from slavery. William Wells
Brown was born in Lexington, Kentucky, in 1816.
He was taken as a boy to St. Louis, Missouri, and
was employed by Elijah P. Love joy, the anti-slavery
agitator, who was at that time editor of the St.
Louis Times. It was here that be got his first
education. After a year in Mr. Lovejoy's printing-office,
young Brown was hired out to a captain of
one of the river steamboats. In 1834 he escaped
from the boat and came North. He obtained a
position as a steward on one of the steamers on
Lake Erie, where he was of great service to fugitive
slaves, making their way to Canada. It was said
that in a single year he gave free passage across
the lake to sixty-five fugitives.
A little later, when he was living in Buffalo, he 
organised a "vigilance committee" to protect and 
aid fugitive slaves. During all this time he employed 
his evenings in study and, in 1843, he was engaged 

in that position until 1849, when he went abroad.
Another agent of the Underground Railroad in 
Massachusetts was Charles Lenox Remond, who 
was born and brought up in Salem, Massachusetts, 
and as a consequence had the advantage of excellent 
school training. He became an anti-slavery 
lecturer in 1838, and went to England in 1846, 
as a delegate to the World's Anti-slavery Convention. 
In New York the principal agents of 
the Underground Railroad were Dr. James McCune 
Smith, David Ruggles, Bishop J. W. Loguen, 
the Rev. James W. C. Pennington, and Frederick 
Douglass. David Ruggles was one of the very 
early members of the Underground Railroad, and 
is said to have been connected with the work almost 
from the beginning. He edited for a number of 
years a quarterly magazine called the Mirror of 
Liberty and died in 1849.
Dr. James McCune Smith was born in New 
York, but received his medical education in Scotland. 
After his return to America he became an active 
writer for the newspapers and magazines and 
contributed a number of papers upon the history 
and progress of the Negro race. James W. C. 
Pennington was born a slave in 1809, on the plantation 
of Colonel Gordon, in Maryland, where he 
learned the trade of blacksmith. He joined the 
Presbyterian Church, studied in Germany, where 

the University of Heidelberg, and, upon his return
to America, became the pastor of the Shiloh Church
in New York City. He died in 1871.
In Pennsylvania, Robert Purvis, the only coloured 
man to sign the Declarations of the First American 
Anti-slavery Convention in Philadelphia in 1833, 
was the most prominent anti-slavery man of the 
coloured race. In 1850, he became chairman of 
the General Vigilance Committee, of which William 
Still was secretary.[2]
 During this time William 
Whipper, who afterward took a prominent part 
in the anti-slavery agitation, was a lumber merchant 
in the little town of Columbia, in the county of 
Lancaster, in the southeastern corner of Pennsylvania. 
At this time, this county was one of the 
principal avenues of escape for fugitive slaves and 
the coloured lumber merchants, Smith and Whipper, 

Railroad. From 1847 to 1860, according to a
letter written to William Still, the author of the
Underground Railroad, Mr. Whipper expended
as much as a thousand dollars a year in assisting
fugitive slaves. After the passage of the Fugitive
Slave Law in 1850, the coloured population at
Columbia decreased from 943 to 487 by emigration
and in 1861, when the War broke out, Mr. Whipper
was preparing to go to Canada himself.
The number of coloured people engaged in the 
Underground Railroad was, as I have already said, 
much larger in Ohio than in any other of the 
Northern states. At Oberlin, Portsmouth, and 
Cincinnati, Ohio, and Detroit, Michigan, there were 
a number of Negroes who worked with the white 
abolitionists of these cities, in assisting fugitives 
on their way to Canada. In the neighborhood 
of Portsmouth, Ohio, slaves were assisted across 
the river by a barber of the town of Jackson, whose 
name was Poindexter. At Louisville, Kentucky, there 
was a coloured man by the name of Wash Spradley, 
who helped many slaves to escape into the free states 
across the river. Professor Siebert gives the names 
of more than one hundred coloured men who were 
known to be actively engaged in assisting in the escape 
of fugitive slaves in the State of Ohio. He says: 
George W. S. Lucas, a coloured man of Salem, Columbiana 
County, Ohio, made frequent trips with the closed carriage of 

and two stations, Ashtabula and Painesville, on the shore of Lake
Erie. Occasionally Mr. Lucas conducted parties to Cleveland
and Sandusky and Toledo, but in such cases he went on foot or by
stage. His trips were sometimes a hundred miles or more in
length. George L. Burroughes, a coloured man of Cairo, Illinois,
became an agent for the Underground Road in 1857 while acting
as porter of a sleeping-car running on the Illinois Central Railroad
between Cairo and Chicago. At Albany, New York, Stephens, a
Negro, was an agent for the Underground Road for a wide extent
of territory. At Detroit there were several agents, among them George
De Baptiste and George Dolarson.[3]
There were fewer stations of the Underground 
Railroad maintained in Illinois by coloured people 
than in most of the other Western states. Chicago, 
however, was the centre of anti-slavery sentiment 
and there early sprang up in that city a small colony 
of free Negroes who sometimes assisted fugitive 
slaves from Missouri to escape. Among the early 
coloured settlers of Chicago was John G. Jones, 
who for many years had a tailor shop on Dearborn 
Street near Madison and was, at the time of his 
death, in 1879, one of the wealthiest Negroes in 
Illinois. A few years ago, when Mrs. Jones was 
visiting her niece, who is the wife of Lloyd G. 
Wheeler, formerly Business Agent of Tuskegee 
Institute, I learned that her husband had been 
for many years a friend of John Brown and 
when, in the winter of 1858 and 1859, he made 
his sensational "rescue" of the Missouri slaves, 

to Canada.
In addition to those I have already mentioned 
there is evidence that there was a pretty well-organised 
body of coloured people engaged in the 
Underground Railroad extending the whole length 
of the Great Lakes from Detroit, Michigan, to 
Buffalo, New York. This organisation was known 
as the "Liberty League." John Brown was well 
acquainted with the members of this organisation 
and, when he held his famous "convention" at 
Chatham, Canada, shortly before the raid on 
Harper's Ferry, it was from the ranks of this organisation 
that he drew, in all probability, the largest 
number of his members. Among these were Dr. 
afterward Major, Martin R. Delany. Dr. Delany, 
who was chairman of the Chatham Convention, 
was not merely a physician but a traveller, soldier, 
lecturer, and editor. He was for a time editor 
of the anti-slavery paper published at Pittsburgh, 
Pennsylvania, called the Mystery. After the passage 
of the Fugitive Slave Law he decided to go to 
Canada. In association with Professor Campbell 
he was a member of the Niger Valley Exploring 
Expedition, and afterward lectured upon Africa in 
various parts of England. During the Civil 
War he served as a soldier and was a member 
of General Saxton's staff while the latter was 
in command at Port Royal, South Carolina. Dr. 

seventy.
Among the early Negro abolitionists were Richard 
Allen and Absalom Jones, the founders of "The 
Free African Society," of Philadelphia. This 
society opened a communication with the Negroes 
in Boston, Newport, Rhode Island and other 
places and coöperated with the abolition societies 
in 1790, in studying the conditions of the free 
blacks. In 1799 and 1800, Absalom Jones led 
the Negroes of Philadelphia to draw up a petition 
to the Legislature, praying for the immediate 
abolition of slavery, and to send another petition 
to Congress against the Fugitive Slave Law, and 
in favour of prospective emancipation for all 
Negroes.
These two men, Richard Alien and Absalom 
Jones, were, a little later, supported in their efforts 
for abolition by James Forten, a sail-maker by 
trade; a man of education, and of considerable 
means. James Forten received his education in 
the school of the Quaker abolitionist, Anthony 
Benezet, and is described as "a gentleman by 
nature, easy in manner and easy in intercourse." 
In 1814, Mr. Forten, with the assistance of Jones 
and Alien, assisted in raising 2,500 coloured volunteers 
for the protection of the city of Philadelphia, 
which was then threatened by the English warships. 
A battalion was also formed for service in 

with Great Britain had come to an end.
In 1817, James Forten was chairman of the first 
convention of free Negroes held in Philadelphia. 
It is said that he drew up the first resolutions of 
protest against the work of the Colonisation Society, 
which declared "that we never will separate 
ourselves voluntarily from the slave population in 
this country. They are our brethren by the ties 
of blood, of suffering and of wrong, and we feel 
that there is more virtue in suffering privations with 
them than in gaining fancied advantages for a 
season." Mr. Forten was a firm friend and supporter 
of William Lloyd Garrison, who refers to 
him as "the greatly esteemed and venerated sail-maker 
of Philadelphia." In the early days of 
the anti-slavery agitation, when Garrison found so 
little support for his paper that he believed he would 
have to give it up, James Forten several times 
came to his rescue, at one time sending him fifty-four 
dollars for twenty-seven subscribers to the 
Liberator, and at another time assuming a considerable 
part of the indebtedness which that paper 
had incurred.
James Forten was born in 1766, in Philadelphia; 
he died in 1842. He was a friend of Whittier, the 
Quaker poet, among whose uncollected poems 
are some verses, written in 1833, but first published 
in the New York Independent, November, 1906, 

Two grandchildren of James Forten are now
living in Washington, D. C. One of these is the
wife of Dr. Charles B. Purvis, son of Robert Purvis,
and formerly surgeon-in-chief of the Freedman's
hospital; the other is Mrs. Charlotte Forten Grimke,
the wife of the well-known Presbyterian minister,
Rev. Francis J. Grimke.
One of the interesting results of the anti-slavery 
agitation was the opening of Oberlin College to 
Negroes. This grew out of the anti-slavery discussions 
which took place among the students of 
Lane Seminary, at Cincinnati, Ohio. Out of one 
hundred or more students in attendance in 1833, 
more than half were Southerners. In 1834, there 
was a debate in the Chapel on the subject of 
slavery which lasted for eighteen consecutive nights. 
During that debate James Bradley, a former slave, 
who had purchased his freedom, was allowed to 
give his testimony. He made a speech lasting two 
hours, speaking in favour of the abolition of slavery 
and of the measures of the Colonisation Society. 
Bradley was born in Africa, but stolen from that 
country when he was a child. His master, who 
lived in Arkansas, died when he was eighteen 
years old. For some years afterward he acted 
as manager of the plantation for his mistress, 
and finally purchased his time by the year. 
After five years he paid $655 for his freedom 

possession.
As a result of that debate, two Southern students 
became abolitionists, and afterward the students 
generally began to start Sunday and day schools 
for Negro children in Cincinnati. A report of 
the debate, which was written by one of these 
Southern students and published in pamphlet, says 
of Bradley: "He is now a beloved and respected 
member of this institution."
When in August, 1834, the trustees of the school 
voted that thenceforth there should be no discussion 
of slavery in any public room of the Seminary, 
fifty-one of the students left the school in a body. 
Just about this time, December, 1833, the Oberlin 
Collegiate Institution had been established, and the 
seceding students were invited to come there. The 
result was that Oberlin was open to students, 
"irrespective of colour." Since that time it is probable 
that nearly as many coloured students have 
been graduated from Oberlin as have been graduated 
from all other colleges in the North put together, 
outside of a few schools exclusively for Negroes. It 
is interesting to note that this result was brought 
about, to some extent, at least, by the eloquence of 
an untutored Negro orator.
Negro anti-slavery agitators, largely because of 
their lack of education, were almost always more 
influential as speakers than they were as writers. 

without anti-slavery writers during the period of the
struggle for freedom. The first Negro paper published
in the United States was an anti-slavery
sheet called Freedom's Journal." This was published
by John B. Russwurm, a graduate of Bowdoin
College. The circumstances under which it was
established were these: There was published in
New York City a paper which was violent in its attacks
upon coloured Americans. Some of the prominent
coloured men, among them the Rev. Samuel
Cornish, met at the home of Boston Crummell and
determined to establish a paper through which
they could answer these attacks. As a result of
this conference the Freedom's Journal was launched.
Among the contributors was David Walker, the
author of "Walker's Appeal," a little pamphlet
printed in 1829.[4] The "Appeal" was, so far as
I am able to learn, the first attack upon slavery
made by a Negro through the medium of the press.
Another contributor to this paper was Stephen
Smith, who, as a lumber merchant at Columbia,
Pennsylvania, amassed a considerable fortune, with
which he afterward endowed a home for aged and

$50,000 during his lifetime and $50,000 more at
his death. This paper seems to have been favourable
to the work of the Colonisation Society. Its
first two numbers contain among other things an
article entitled, "The Memoirs of Paul Cuffe,"
who some years before had taken a ship-load of
free coloured people to Sierra Leone.
John Brown Russwurm was born in 1799 at 
Port Antonio, Jamaica. He was taken to Quebec 
by his father, who was a white man, and there put 
to school. Shortly after, his father came to Maine 
and married. After his father died, Mrs. Russwurm, 
who had become deeply interested in her stepson, 
gave him a college education. After leaving college, 
he was for a time the teacher of the coloured public 
school in Boston. In 1829, he went to Africa and 
became superintendent of the public schools of 
Liberia. At the same time he edited the Liberia 
Herald. In 1836, he was appointed Governor of 
Maryland, at Cape Palmas, and continued in that 
position until his death in 1851.
Another paper of some influence, known as the 
Coloured American, was started in 1837, by Philip 
A. Bell. The editor of this paper, which was 
published at 9 Spruce Street, New York City, was 
Charles B. Ray. Between the date of the publication 
of the Coloured American and Frederick Douglass's 
North Star, which was started ten years later, in 

men. One of these was the National Watchman,
edited by William G. Alien. He was assisted for
a time by Henry Highland Garnet. Mr. Garnet
had a remarkable career. He was born in slavery
in Kent County, Maryland, December 23, 1815.
His grandfather had been an African chief but
was captured and sold to the slave-traders, and
afterward became the property of Colonel William
Spencer. His father escaped from slavery and
sought protection with Thomas Garrett a Quaker
and noted anti-slavery man. In 1825, he went to
New York, where Henry Highland Garnet, his son,
entered the African Free School on Mulberry Street.
Among the students at the African Free School
at this time were Charles L. Reason, afterward
head of the coloured high school in Philadelphia,
George T. Downing, at one time a noted caterer
in Washington, D. C., and Ira Aldridge, the coloured
actor.
Young Garnet subsequently attended the high 
school established for coloured people on Canal 
Street, and when this was closed he went to the famous 
school at Canaan, New Hampshire, and finally 
was graduated at the Oneida Institute at Whitesboro, 
New York. In 1850 he visited Great Britain, 
from there he went as a delegate to the Peace Conference, 
at Frankfort-on-the-Main; was a missionary 
for some time to Jamaica; chaplain of a 

Avery Institute at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; the
first coloured man to hold religious services in
Representatives' Chamber of Congress at Washington,
D. C. He finally died as Minister Resident in
Liberia, February 14, 1882.
After Frederick Douglass entered the anti-slavery 
field most of the efforts of the coloured people to 
secure their freedom centered about him. He was 
an orator of unusual gifts and devoted himself 
with such singleness of purpose to the task of 
securing freedom and recognition for his people 
that he soon became the recognised leader of the 
coloured people.
Among those who were associated with Frederick 
Douglass at this time were Samuel R. Ward, H. Ford 
Douglass, John M. Langston, William Howard Day, 
and Mifflin W. Gibbs. William C. Nell, the author 
of a book on "The Coloured Patriots of the Revolution," 
assisted him for some time in the publication 
of the North Star. Mr. Nell was a friend 
of Garrison and other anti-slavery men, and when 
he died in Boston, May 25, 1874, William Lloyd 
Garrison was one of the speakers at his funeral.
Contemporaneous with Frederick Douglass's 
paper, The North Star, which was published at 
Rochester, was the Ram's Horn, published by W. 
A. Hodges at 141 Fulton Street, New York City, 
and The Alienated American, published by William 

in 1855, The Mirror of the Times, published by
Mifflin W. Gibbs, was started at San Francisco,
California.
The anti-slavery people to whom I have thus 
far referred were for the most part fugitive slaves 
or coloured men who were under the influence of 
the Northern abolitionists. But there were other 
Negroes in the Southern states who, by their lives 
and actions, exercised a very positive influence 
upon anti-slavery sentiment in the South. In a 
"History of the Anti-slavery Leaders of North 
Carolina," Professor John Spencer Bassett, of 
Trinity College, has given a sketch of one of these 
men, Lunsford Lane, whom he reckons among the 
four prominent abolitionists of North Carolina.
Lunsford Lane was a slave of Mr. Sherwood Haywood, 
a prominent citizen of Raleigh, North Carolina. 
His parents, of pure African descent, were 
employed as house-servants in the city of Raleigh. 
In this way, Lunsford had an opportunity to hear 
the speeches of many prominent men of the day, 
among others John C. Calhoun. He waited on 
Lafayette, when he passed through Raleigh in 1824, 
and was greatly impressed by what he heard this 
great man say in regard to his hope of ultimate 
freedom for the slave. Once he heard a Presbyterian 
minister, Dr. McPheeters, say: "It is 
impossible to enslave an intelligent people." The 

matter of fact, he had early learned to read and
write, for at that time this privilege was not yet
denied slaves in North Carolina.
It was a custom among the coloured boys of the 
town, to assemble every Sunday afternoon at a 
mineral spring in the outskirts of Raleigh in order 
to discuss, in imitation of the white people, the 
public questions of the day. At these meetings 
the slaves, who had had the advantages of hearing 
these questions discussed, would repeat with great 
exactness the speeches that they had heard during 
the week. Frequently the white people attended 
these meetings and a master who owned a particularly 
bright slave would take great pride in any 
exhibition of unusual intelligence his slave showed 
at these meetings, and would encourage him to 
improve still further. After the Northampton 
Insurrection, when it was believed that these 
meetings had the effect of turning the minds of 
slaves toward freedom, they were very strictly 
prohibited. Lunsford Lane grew up, however, 
where he had the benefit of these opportunities.
Lane early began to save with the purpose of 
purchasing his freedom, the money which was given 
him from time to time. He was given considerable 
liberty by his master and was able to employ his 
leisure time in occupations that increased the sum 
of his savings. Young Lane's father had, in some 

method of making a superior kind of smoking
tobacco, and, as he grew older, father and son now
began to manufacture this kind of tobacco on
their own account. In order to have opportunity
to carry on this trade Lane hired his time, paying
for it from $100 to $120 a year. The demand for
his tobacco grew rapidly; he enlarged his plant
and made arrangements by which he was able to sell
the product in the neighbouring towns of Fayetteville,
Salisbury, and Chapel Hill. At the end of
eight years he had saved a thousand dollars. With
this sum he went to Mr. Benjamin R. Smith, who
was the owner of his wife, and, putting his money
in his hands, engaged him to negotiate with his
mistress for his freedom.
As soon as he had secured his freedom, Lane 
was able to extend his business. He added to the 
manufacture of tobacco the making of pipes. He 
also opened a wood-yard and bought horses and 
wagons for use in connection with it. In 1839, he 
bought a house and lot, for which he paid $500. 
As soon as he had secured his own freedom he made 
it the one object of his life to buy his wife, and 
children, of whom there were now six. Mr. Smith 
offered to sell them for $3,000, but as his wife and 
her children had been purchased eight years earlier 
for $560 it seemed that $3,000, an advance of 
$2,340, was too much to pay. Mr. Smith, after 

Lunsford Lane gave five notes for $500 each and
received in return the latter's obligation to sign a
bill of sale for the whole family when the notes
were paid.
"His achievement," says Professor Bassett, "had 
been wonderful, and is an indication of what a 
policy of gradual emancipation might have done 
in developing his race, could circumstances have 
been so shaped that it might have been entered 
upon. He had paid $1,000 for his freedom, he had 
paid $1,000 in yearly wages while he was hiring 
his time; had supported himself and helped support 
his family in the meantime; and paid $500 for his 
home, and had a good business in his own name."[5]
Although he dressed poorly, fared as simply 
as if he were a slave, and had been careful, as he 
said, to seem, if possible, to be less intelligent than 
he actually was, his prosperity had already begun 
to attract the notice of a certain class of whites 
and, as several other Negroes in Raleigh were 
beginning to make progress in the same way, some 
of the white people thought it was likely to have 
a bad effect on the slaves. For that reason they 
determined to run him out of the community.
The circumstances under which he had obtained 
his freedom enabled them to do this without much 

he was not able to buy his own freedom, he had
gone to New York State to have the articles of
emancipation executed. As he had, however,
returned to North Carolina, he came under the
provisions of the law which forbade free Negroes
from other states from coming into North Carolina
to live. Free Negroes who violated this act and
did not remove out of the state within twenty days
after notice had been served on them, were liable
to a fine of $500, in default of which they could
be sold for ten years. About the first of November,
1840, Lane received notification from two justices
of the peace that, unless he left the state within the
twenty days prescribed by the law, he would be
prosecuted under the statute.
At this time Lane was a private messenger and 
janitor in the office of the Governor of the state. He 
at once appealed to Mr. C. C. Battle, private secretary 
to Governor Dudley, who took up the matter 
with the prosecuting attorney and secured from 
him a promise that the prosecution would be suspended 
until January 1. The purpose of this 
delay was to get a private law through the Legislature 
allowing him to remain in the state until he had 
finished paying for his family. Other free Negroes 
in the town who were buying their families had 
received similar notices and they, too, petitioned 
the Legislature. The petitions were referred to a 

The bill dragged along, Lane and the other free
Negroes following its course, as well as they were
able, from information they were able to obtain
outside the building, since at the time no Negro
was allowed to enter the Chamber of either of the
Houses when in session. Finally, a member came
out and said: "Well, Lunsford, the Negro bill is
killed."
This announcement was a great blow to Lane 
and his companions, but they bowed to the inevitable 
and made no open complaint against the decision. 
Nothing was now left for Lane and his companions 
but to emigrate to the North, leaving their families 
behind them. Lane had already paid Mr. Smith 
$620 on his indebtedness, of which amount $250 was 
in payment for one child, whom he took North 
with him and left with friends. Mr. Smith now 
agreed to accept the house and lot in Raleigh for 
$500, provided the balance of $1,380 should be 
paid in cash. These arrangements having been 
completed, he started for the North.
Lane had made some friends in New York during 
his previous visit there to secure his own freedom. 
These friends now assisted him to raise the necessary 
money to secure the freedom of the remaining 
members of his family. Most of this money he 
secured by going about the country as a lecturer, 
telling in simple and straightforward fashion the 

to leave his home. Early in 1842 he wrote to his
friend, Mr. Smith, in Raleigh asking him to obtain
from the Government a written permission to return
and get his family. The Governor replied that he
had no authority to grant such a privilege but thought
it would be perfectly safe for him to come to Raleigh,
provided he stayed no longer than twenty days.
So it was that on Saturday, April 23, 1842, the
ex-slave was again in the city of his birth. He
remained with his family during Sunday morning
and on Monday morning went to the store of Mr.
Smith to have a settlement. Before he could transact
his business, however, he was arrested and taken
before the Mayor on a charge of "delivering abolition
lectures in Massachusetts."
In reply to this charge Lunsford Lane made a 
statement before the Mayor's court which, because 
it was the only abolition speech, so far as I know, 
ever made by a coloured man before a Southern 
audience, I am disposed to quote at some length.
Lunsford Lane's report of the proceedings was 
as follows: 
He asked me whether I was guilty or not guilty. Retaining my 
self-possession, I replied that I did not know whether I had given 
abolition lectures or not; but if it pleased the Court, I would relate 
the course I had pursued during my absence from Raleigh. He 
then said I was at liberty to speak for myself. "The circumstances 
under which I left Raleigh," I said, "are perfectly familiar to you 
all. It is well known that I had no desire to remove from this city, 

an honest calling. Finding that I could not be permitted to stay,
I went away, leaving behind everything I held dear, with the
exception of one child whom I took with me, after paying two
hundred and fifty dollars for her. You are well aware that previous
to this I was a slave, the property of Mr. Sherwood Haywood,
and after many years of faithful labour purchased my freedom
by paying the sum of one thousand dollars. It is also known to
you, and to many other persons here present, that I had engaged
to purchase my wife and children of their master, Mr. Smith, for
the sum of twenty-five hundred dollars, and that I had paid of this
sum, including my house and lot, eleven hundred and twenty dollars,
leaving a balance to be made up of thirteen hundred and eighty
dollars. I could have made up this amount had I been permitted
to remain here. But, being driven away for no crime of which I
am conscious, no longer permitted to raise the balance due for the
liberation of my family, my last resort was to call upon the friends
of humanity in other places to assist me. I went to the city of
Boston, and there I related the story of my persecutions here,
in the same manner that I now state them to you. The people gave
a patient hearing to my statements, and one of them, the Reverend
Dr. Neale, wrote to Raleigh, unknown to me, to Mr. Smith, inquiring
of him whether the statements made by me were correct.
After Dr. Neale received Mr. Smith's reply, he sent for me,
informed me of his having written and read to me this reply. The
letter fully satisfied Dr. Neale and his friends. He placed it in my
hands, remarking that it would in a great measure do away with
the necessity of using the other documents in my possession. I
then, with that letter in my hands, went from house to house, calling
upon persons at their places of business, going from church to
church, relating, whenever I could gain an ear, the same sad story
of my wrongs to which I am now referring you. In pursuing that
course, the kind people generously came forward and contributed,
the poor as well as the rich, until I had succeeded in raising the
whole amount, namely, thirteen hundred and eighty dollars. I
may have had contributions from abolitionists; but I did not stop
to ask those who assisted me whether they were anti-slavery or

immaterial whence it came if it would only accomplish the object
I had in view. These are the simple facts as to the manner of
my proceeding in the Northern states; and now, sir, I humbly
ask whether such a course can be construed into the charge made
against me—that I have been giving abolition lectures."
After Lane had made this statement Mr. Loring, 
the Mayor, held a whispered consultation with 
some of the leading men of the city who were present, 
and then remarked that he saw nothing criminal in 
what had been done. He called upon any one present 
to make a statement, but no one had anything to 
say, and Lunsford Lane was therefore discharged.
As Lane was leaving the Mayor's office, however, 
he was warned that a crowd was waiting outside 
the building for him and that he had better go 
directly to the train. He made arrangements 
with the Mayor to take his money and settle with 
Mr. Smith and send on the liberated wife and 
children to Philadelphia. After this was done 
he started for the train and succeeded in reaching 
the station as the train was about to leave. The 
crowd had, however, followed him and refused to 
allow the train to depart until they had him in 
their hands. The Mayor was present and appealed 
in vain to the mob to allow Lane to go. Members 
of the crowd demanded the Negro's trunk to be 
searched for abolition literature. While their 
attention was directed to this task the fugitive was 
hurried to the jail for protection.

"Looking out from my prison window," said 
Lane in his account of the affair, "I could see my 
trunk in the hands of officers Scott and Johnston, 
and others who were taking it to the city hall for 
examination. I learned afterward that they broke 
open my trunk and as the lid flew up, the mob 
cried out, 'A paper, a paper!' A number seized it 
at once and set up a yell of wild delight. Among 
the crowd was a young man of profligate character, 
a son of one of the most respectable families in the 
place. When the paper was discovered, he glanced 
upward toward my prison window and by signs 
and words expressed his satisfaction.
"The paper proved to be entirely inoffensive, and 
as nothing further was found in the carpet bag 
which they searched, the crowd was quiet for a 
time."
At night, acting upon the advice of his friends, 
Lane was released from the prison and started for 
the home of Mr. William Boylan, who was so highly 
esteemed in Raleigh at that time that it was believed 
his house would be a safe asylum for the fugitive. 
It was nine o'clock at night when he left the jail. 
He had only gone a few yards, however, when he 
was seized and drawn away to "an old pine field," 
where a gallows stood. At first he thought they 
intended to hang him, but finally a bucket of tar 
and a feather pillow were brought, and then he 
understood that they intended nothing worse than 

with tar, and the feathers had been poured over
him, his watch and clothes were handed him and
he was allowed to go home. Some of the crowd,
however, continued to follow him and, as they
laughingly watched him remove the tar and feathers,
said he might now remain in town as long as he
chose.
By this time his friends had become alarmed 
and appealed to the Governor for protection. He 
had gone to the home of his friend, Mr. Smith, to 
pass the night and a detail of soldiers was furnished 
by the Governor as his guard there. In the morning 
he settled his business matters and made ready to 
start with his family for Philadelphia. He went 
to say farewell to his former mistress, who was 
then a very old lady. In describing the scene at 
the home of his former mistress, Lane says: 
My old mistress was affected to tears, as her mind reverted to 
the past—my faithfulness to her and to her children, my struggles 
and persecutions. In late years she had been kind to me, and, 
as I learned, she and her daughter, Mrs. Hogg, then present at her 
house, had sent a note to the court before which I was tried, 
representing that, in consequence of my good conduct from my 
youth up, they could not believe me to be guilty of any offence. 
And now, with an attachment for me they could not repress, and 
with tears—the offspring, as I believe, of genuine sympathy—
they gave me their parting blessing. My mother was now called 
in that I might bid her a final farewell. I was her only child, and 
I had no hope of seeing her again in this world. Our old mistress 
could not witness this scene of our parting unmoved. Unable to 

mother should go with me. "Take her, Lunsford, and care for
her as I know you will as a dutiful son. Should you ever become
able to pay me two hundred dollars, you may; otherwise it shall
be my loss."
The story of the treatment which Lane had 
received had caused the greatest excitement in the 
city and many of the best citizens in the town now 
came to his assistance. They gave him food enough 
to last on his journey; sent a carriage to take him 
and his family to the station and arranged with the 
conductor to stop on the edge of the town to take 
him on, his family having previously been placed 
on the train at the station. This was accomplished 
in safety and the whole party started North. A 
member of the previous day's mob who happened 
to be on the train made an effort to excite bystanders 
at the stations at which they stopped to board the 
train and to drag out the escaping abolitionist, but 
was unsuccessful.
Lunsford Lane went to live first in Boston, 
Massachusetts, and after then in Oberlin, Ohio. 
Two of his children having died there, however, 
he returned to Boston. He was employed for a 
time as a lecturer by the Anti-slavery Society but 
he seems to have had none of the vehemence of 
the average abolitionist and was never entirely 
contented with his life in the Northern country. 
During the War he acted as a hospital nurse, and 
when the question arose as to what would become 

in which he showed great practical sense and
understanding. He emphasised particularly the
need of better education and better agriculture
in the South. Among other things he said:
The wishes of the coloured people are much misunderstood by 
their friends, North and South. We desire, in the first place, freedom 
in its truest and best sense—not a mere license to do as we 
please. Having secured this, we wish to be situated so as to be 
profitably employed, so as to benefit the State as well as ourselves. 
We have no desire to remain in the Northern states, 
except as a temporary place of refuge from slavery. This is not 
our native climate. We love warmer suns and a more productive 
soil. Here our offspring wither and die. They revive and flourish 
under the warmer skies of the South. As soon as peace is concluded, 
and security for life and limb is guaranteed, we would 
return to a clime so well suiting our constitutions. In North 
Carolina alone there are thousands of acres of unoccupied lands 
which might be made to flourish under the diligent culture of the 
black man. We could occupy these lands as tenants or as owners, 
adding largely to the annual productions of cotton, rice, wheat, 
and vegetables. . . . We want more freedom for Northern 
teachers and religious instructors to visit the South, that they may 
spread before us the life-giving passages of God's Word. Heretofore, 
ignorance, and prejudice have almost banished these devoted 
men from the holy labours to which they were willing to devote their 
Jives. We have no desire to leave the United States for a residence 
in the British Provinces, under a government with which we are 
not acquainted; nor to emigrate to Liberia, nor to the West Indies. 
The South is our home; and we feel that there we can be happy 
and contribute by our industry to the prosperity of our race, and 
leave the generation that succeeds us wiser and better. No greater 
mistake can, therefore, be made than to suppose we desire to come 
North. We only desire a secure freedom in the South. We hope 
not only to support ourselves, but to add greatly to the wealth of 

and sugar. . . . There is no branch of business or of commerce
which would not be benefited by our elevation and industry
Millions of acres, now worthless, would be made to bud and blossom
as the rose.[6]
Lunsford Lane remained, to the end, a true son 
of the South. In spite of the fact that he had been 
driven out of his native land, he seems to have cherished 
no bitterness against the people of his native 
state and city. If he had some enemies there, he 
had had many friends, the memory of whose kindness 
he never forgot. Perhaps I can not do better, 
in concluding what I have to say about this man, 
than to quote the words of Professor Bassett in 
regard to him: 
The little glimpse that we have of his real self shows what a 
promise of hope he was for the race he represented. We know 
enough to be certain that it was a most short-sighted policy in his 
state that drove him and a number of others out of the community, 
and made impossible the development of other Negroes like unto 
him. Since the war we have sadly missed such strong characters 
in our Negro population. Twenty-five years before the war there 
were more industrious, ambitious and capable Negroes in the South 
than there were in 1865. Had the severe laws against emancipation 
and free Negroes not been passed, the coming of freedom 
would have found the coloured race with a number of superior 
individuals who in every locality would have been a core of conservatism 
for the benefit of both races. Under such conditions 
Lane would have been of great beneficent influence.[7]
 In an elaborate State paper John Jay, -while Secretary for Foreign Affairs, in 
referring to the connection between white slavery in Africa and black slavery in 
America said: "If a war should take place between France and Algiers and in the 
course of it France should invite the American slaves there to run away from their 
masters, and actually receive and protect them in their camp, what would Congress, 
and indeed the world, think and say of France, if, on making peace with Algiers, 
she should give up those American slaves to their former Algerine masters? Is 
there any other difference between the two cases than this, namely, that the American 
slaves at Algiers are white people, whereas the African slaves at New York were 
black people?" Quoted in a lecture, "White Slavery in the Barbary States," 
before the Boston Mercantile Library Association, 1847. "The Works of Charles 
Sumner," vol. i, p. 449.
 In an article published in The Atlantic Monthly, describing this first antislavery 
convention, John G. Whittier, the Quaker poet, mentions Robert Purvis 
and other coloured members of that convention. He says: "The president, after 
calling James McCrummell, one of the two or three coloured members of the convention, 
to the chair, made some eloquent remarks upon those editors who had 
ventured to advocate emancipation. At the close of his speech a young man rose to 
speak, whose appearance at once arrested my attention. I think I have never 
seen a finer face and figure, and his manner, words, and bearing were in keeping. 
'Who is he?' I asked one of the Pennsylvania delegates. 'Robert Purvis, of this 
city, a coloured man,' was the answer. He began by uttering his heartfelt thanks 
to the delegates who had convened for the deliverance of his people. He spoke of 
Garrison in terms of warmest eulogy, as one who had stirred the heart of the nation, 
broken the tomb-like slumber of the church, and compelled it to listen to the story 
of the slave's wrongs. He closed by declaring that the friends of coloured Americans 
would not be forgotten. 'Their memories,' he said, 'will be cherished when 
pyramids and monuments have crumbled in dust. The flood of time is sweeping 
away the refuge of lies; is bearing on the advocates of our cause to a glorious immortality.'" 
The Atlantic Monthly, vol. xxxiii, pp. 168, 169.
 David Walker was born at Wilmington, North Carolina, in 1785, of a free 
mother by a slave father. He early went to Massachusetts to live and in 1827, having 
obtained a little education, he began business in Brattle Street, Boston. In 
1829, he published his "Appeal," which was widely circulated, and stirred the South 
as no other anti-slave pamphlet up to that time had done. This pamphlet was the 
subject of a message of Governor Giles to the Legislature of Virginia in which he 
referred to the "Appeal" as a seditious pamphlet sent from Boston. "History of 
the Negro Race in America," Williams, vol. ii, appendix, p. 553.
 "Anti-slavery Leaders of North Carolina," Johns Hopkins University Studies, 
John Spencer Bassett, p. 74.

CHAPTER XV 
THE NEGRO SOLDIER'S FIGHT FOR FREEDOM
NEGRO soldiers have fought in every war, 
I suspect, that has ever been waged 
on the American continent. Negroes 
fought at Bunker Hill and all through the Revolutionary 
War. Before that time, Negroes are 
known to have been engaged, in one way 
or another, in most of the Indian wars. 
They were conspicuous in the battles of New 
Orleans and of Lake Erie, in the War of 1812. 
They fought on both sides in the Civil War, and 
from that time on they have been an important 
part of the standing army of the United States. In 
most of these wars, I may add, the Negro has 
fought not merely in the interest of the country 
and of the civilisation with which he has become 
identified, but also, as in the Revolutionary and 
Civil wars, to secure and maintain his own freedom.
It is impossible to tell just how many Negro 
soldiers were engaged in the Revolutionary War. 
In August, 1778, two months after the battle of 
Monmouth, the official returns of Washington's 
army showed that there were 755 Negroes scattered 

include the Connecticut, New York, and New
Hampshire troops, in which large numbers of
Negroes, who had been slaves, had been allowed
to take their masters' places in the ranks. It did
not include, either, the regiment of Freedmen,
raised in Rhode Island, which fought so courageously
at the battle of Rhode Island, in August, 1778.[1]
Three years later, in May, 1781, when Colonel
Green, of this regiment, was surprised at Point
Bridge, New York, his black soldiers, a detachment
of whom accompanied him, defended their leader
until every one of them was dead.
As a rule, the Negro soldiers were not organised 
in the Patriot Army into separate organisations, 
but were scattered through the different regiments. 
Hessian officer, writing under the date of October 
23, 1777, in reference to his march through Massachusetts, 
says: "The Negro can take the field 
instead of his master; and therefore no regiment 
is to be seen in which there are not Negroes in 
abundance; and among them are able-bodied, 
strong, brave fellows. Here, too," he adds, "there 
are many families of free Negroes who live in good 

of the inhabitants."[2]
This statement is further confirmed by the official 
roll of Massachusetts soldiers, which shows that 
there were Negroes in the regiments of that state 
from almost every Massachusetts town. Although 
no Negro regiment was raised in Connecticut, still 
in Meigs's, afterward Butler's regiment, there was 
a company made up entirely of coloured men. 
George W. Williams, in his "History of the Negro 
Troops in the War of the Rebellion," after a careful 
study of the rolls of the Continental Army, 
reached the conclusion that there were no less than 
3,000 Negro soldiers in the Continental army 
during the Revolutionary War.[3]
Fewer Negroes were allowed to enter the Patriot 
Army in the Southern colonies, although a strenuous 
effort was made by Colonel John Laurens, 
of South Carolina, and other patriots, to carry 
out the provisions that the Continental Congress 
had made for raising a Negro regiment. Free 
Negroes enlisted in considerable numbers in the 
Virginia regiments, although there was no law by 
which their service could be accepted. In 1783, 
however, the General Assembly passed a law 
directing the emancipation of a certain number 

and particularly "of the slave Aberdeen," who had
worked for a long time in the state lead mines.
The Revolutionary War contributed, in several 
ways, toward the emancipation of the slaves. In 
the struggle of the colonies to secure liberty for 
themselves the sentiments expressed by Thomas 
Jefferson in the Declaration of Independence led 
many people to feel that Negro slavery was wrong. 
It was partly this sentiment and partly the needs 
of the Continental Army that led several of the 
states to pass laws which provided that slaves 
might serve in the Patriot Army and that, at the 
end of their service, they should go free. This 
was the case in New York where, on March 20, 
1781, a law providing for two regiments of Negro 
slaves specified that, after three years of service, 
these slaves should be free. The Rhode Island 
law, which provided for a regiment of black men, 
specified, also, that those who took part in the 
struggle for freedom of the colonies should have 
their own freedom. It was, no doubt, largely 
as a result of the services of the Negro troops during 
the war that, on February 23, 1784, the General 
Assembly of Rhode Island passed a law making 
free all Negroes and mulattoes born in that state 
after March 1 of that same year.
Negroes not only served in the War of the Revolution, 
but individual coloured men are still remembered, 

exploits in which they engaged. In Trumbull's
celebrated historic painting of the battle of Bunker
Hill, one of the conspicuous figures is a Negro by
the name of Peter Salem, who is said to have been
responsible for the death of Major Pitcairn, of the
British Marines, who fell just as he mounted the
Patriots' redoubt, shouting, "The day is ours!"
Peter Salem was a private in Colonel Nixon's 
regiment. He was born in Framingham, and was 
held as a slave until the time he joined the army. 
Colonel Trumbull, who, at the time of the battle, 
was stationed with his regiment in Roxbury, and saw 
the action from that point, has introduced the figures 
of several other coloured men into his canvas.[4]
Another coloured man whose name has been 
preserved in the records of the Revolutionary War 
was Salem Poor, of Colonel Frye's regiment, Captain 
Ames's company. He took part in the Battle 
of Bunker Hill and so distinguished himself that 
a petition, signed by some of the principal officers 
who took part in that battle, was drawn up and 
sent to the General Court of Massachusetts Bay 

This was less than six months after the battle in
which he had taken part had been fought.
Another incident, which illustrates a trait often 
referred to, namely, the fidelity of Negro soldiers 
to their officers, has been noticed in the memoir 
of Major Samuel Lawrence, who took part in the 
Battle of Bunker Hill. At one time, it is related, 
Major Lawrence commanded a company, "whose 
rank and file were all Negroes, of whose courage, 
military discipline, and fidelity he always spoke 
with respect." On one occasion, while he and 
his company were somewhat in advance of the 
other troops, Major Lawrence was surrounded 
and on the point of being made prisoner by the 
enemy. His men, discovering his peril, hurried 
to his rescue "and fought with the most determined 
bravery till that rescue was effectually secured" 
His biographer says that Major Lawrence never 
forgot that circumstance, and ever after took special 
pains to show kindness and hospitality to every 
individual coloured man who came his way. This 
interest and friendship in the coloured man, which 
began with Major Lawrence in the way described, 
was continued to his distinguished grandson, Amos 
A. Lawrence, who took a prominent part in the 
struggle for freedom in Kansas, being a member 
of the Emigrant Aid Society which did so much 
to make Kansas free.

Negroes played a less conspicuous part in the 
war in North and South Carolina and Georgia 
than they did elsewhere. But in White's "Historical 
Collections of Georgia," there is an account 
given of a Negro soldier by the name of Austin 
Dabney, which is so interesting that I am tempted 
to relate the story here at some length.
Austin Dabney had been born, from all that I 
can learn, of free parents, but in some way or other, 
he had fallen into the hands of a man by the name 
of Aycock, who lived in Wilkes County, Georgia. 
This man was unable to serve in the Patriot Army 
himself, and for that reason offered this slave boy 
as a substitute and, after the circumstances of his 
birth were explained, he was accepted. Dabney 
proved himself a good soldier and took part in 
many a skirmish with British and Tories, in which 
he acted a conspicuous part. He was with Colonel 
Elijah Clark at the Battle of Kettle Creek, February 
14, 1779, where he was wounded and made a 
cripple for life. He was unable to do further 
military duty and was without means to obtain 
proper medical attention. In this critical condition 
he was taken into the house of a white man by 
the name of Harris, where he was kindly cared 
for until he recovered. So grateful was he to this 
man, Mr. Harris, for taking him into his home at 
a time when he was without friends and unable to 
assist himself, that he afterward devoted a large 

Mr. Harris and his family.
After the close of the war, Austin Dabney acquired 
property and became prosperous. He removed 
to Madison County, carrying with him his benefactor, 
Mr. Harris, and family. Here he became 
noted for his great fondness for horses and the 
turf. He attended all the races in the neighbourhood, 
and, in the words of Mr. White's chronicle, 
"his courteous behaviour and good temper always 
secured him gentleman backers."
Dabney had been freed for his services in the 
Revolutionary War. He was in receipt of a pension 
from the Federal Government and in the distribution 
of public lands by lottery among the people of Georgia, 
the Legislature gave him a considerable amount 
of land in the county of Walton. The Representative 
from Oglethorpe, the Hon. Mr. Upson, was the 
member who moved this passage of the law.
The granting of this land to a coloured man was 
strenuously opposed by a number of people and, 
at the election of members of the Legislature of 
Madison County, the people were divided into an 
Austin Dabney and an anti-Austen Dabney party. 
It was perhaps because he did not enjoy the results 
of this controversy that Dabney soon after removed 
to the land given him by the state in Walton County, 
taking with him the Harris family, for whom he 
continued to labour. Upon his death he left them 

Harris sent to Franklin College and afterward supported
him while he studied law with Mr. Upson
in Lexington. In the account given in White's
"Historical Collections," it is stated that Dabney
was "one of the best chroniclers of events of the
Revolutionary War in Georgia."
As illustrating the character of Austin Dabney 
and the good repute which he maintained among 
his neighbours the following anecdote is related 
in White's "Collections."
He drew his pension at Savannah, where he went once a year for 
this purpose. On one occasion he went to Savannah in company 
with his neighbour, Colonel Wyley Pope. They travelled together 
on the most familiar terms, until they arrived in the streets of the 
town. Then the Colonel observed to Austin that he was a man of 
sense, and knew that it was not suitable for him to be seen riding 
side by side with a coloured man through the streets of Savannah; 
to which Austin replied that he understood the matter very well. 
Accordingly, when they came to the principal street, Austin checked 
his horse and fell behind. They had not gone very far before 
Colonel Pope passed by the house of General James Jackson, who 
was then Governor of the state. Upon looking back he saw the 
Governor run out of the house, seize Austin's hand, shake it as if 
he had been his long absent brother, draw him off his horse, and 
carry him into his house, where he stayed whilst in town. Colonel 
Pope used to tell this anecdote with much glee, adding that he 
felt chagrined when he ascertained that whilst he passed his time 
at the tavern, unknown and uncared for, Austin was the honoured 
guest of the Governor.
It should not be understood from what has 
been said here that Negroes were admitted at once 

There was at first considerable opposition to them,
particularly from the officers in the army. One
incident that hastened their entrance into the army
was the proclamation by Lord Dunmore, the
Royal Governor of Virginia, in November, 1775,
offering freedom to all such Negroes and indentured
white servants as might enlist for the purpose "of
reducing the colony to the proper sense of its duty."
Other proclamations inviting the Negroes to join
the King's armies and fight against their masters
were issued later by Sir Henry Clinton and Lord
Cornwallis. As a matter of fact a great many
slaves were carried off by the British troops during
the war. It is estimated that no less than thirty
thousand of them were taken from the plantations
and employed by the British troops in pioneer
work and in building fortifications, but the greater
part of these slaves died from fever and small-pox
in the British camps. The remainder were sent
to the West Indies, others to Nova Scotia, and
still others to the colony of Sierra Leone. Referring
to this matter in a speech in the United States
House of Representatives, December 12, 1820, the
Hon. Charles Pinckney of South Carolina says:
It is a most remarkable fact that, notwithstanding, in the course 
of the Revolution, the Southern states were continually overrun 
by the British, and that every Negro in them had an opportunity 
of leaving their owners, few did; proving thereby not only a most 
remarkable attachment to their owners, but the mildness of the 

as they still are, as valuable a part of our population to the Union
as any other equal number of inhabitants. They were in numerous
instances the pioneers, and, in all, the labourers, of your armies.
To their hands were owing the erection of the greatest part of the
fortifications raised for the protection of our country; some of
which, particularly Fort Moultrie, gave, at that early period of the
inexperience and untried valour of our citizens, immortality to
American arms; and, in the Northern states, numerous bodies
of them were enrolled into, and fought, by the sides of the whites,
the battles of the Revolution.[5]
Although Negro soldiers had fought in the Revolutionary 
War and in the War of 1812, it was 
some time before the Federal Government was 
prepared to enlist Negro soldiers to fight in the 
Civil War against the people who were still holding 
black men as slaves. As a matter of fact, it was 
in the Confederate armies that the first Negro 
soldiers were enlisted. During the latter part 
of April, 1861, a Negro company at Nashville, 
Tennessee, made up of "free people of colour," 
offered its services to the Confederate Government. 
Shortly after, a recruiting office was opened for 
free Negroes at Memphis, Tennessee. On November 
23, 1861, there was a grand review of the Confederate 
troops at New Orleans, Louisiana, one 
of the features of which was a regiment of fourteen 
hundred free coloured men. Some of these coloured 
troops remained in the service of the Confederacy 

have an opportunity to participate in any of the
important battles.
In the summer of 1862, General Butler organised 
a regiment of free coloured people in the city of 
New Orleans, under the title of the "First Louisiana 
Native Guard." This was the first coloured regiment 
to be mustered into the Federal Army. 
General Butler has related in his autobiography, 
the circumstances under which this regiment was 
formed. It seems that two regiments of free Negroes 
called "Native Guards, Coloured," had been 
organised in New Orleans, while General Butler 
was at Ship Island. After the fall of New Orleans, 
many of these coloured soldiers left the city, but 
some remained. General Butler learned the names 
and residences of some twenty of the coloured 
officers of these regiments and sent for them to 
call upon him at headquarters. In talking the 
situation over with them, he called their attention 
to the fact that if the Federal armies were successful 
Negro slavery would be abolished, and then asked 
them if they would be willing to organise two 
regiments of free coloured people to fight for the 
freedom of their race. After some further consultation, 
they readily agreed to do this, and fourteen 
days later, on August 22, 1862, when General 
Butler went down to the place where he had ordered 
the recruits to gather, he says he saw such a sight 

men ready to enlist as recruits and not a man of
them who had not a white 'biled shirt' on."
Thus the first regiment of coloured troops was 
mustered into the service of the United States. A 
short time after this, three regiments of infantry 
and two batteries of artillery were equipped and 
ready for service. General Butler says of these 
soldiers, "They were intelligent, obedient, highly 
appreciated their position, and fully maintained 
its dignity."
Previous to this time, General Hunter, who was 
located at Beaufort, and the Sea Islands, off the 
coast of South Carolina, had formed a regiment 
from the slaves which he had found on the abandoned 
plantations in that district. When this regiment 
was first organised the Federal Government was 
not prepared to accept the Freedmen in the positions 
of soldiers, so that it was not until January 25, 1863, 
that the "First South Carolina" regiment was 
actually mustered into service, though it had 
been in existence as an organisation for some time 
before this.
Although these were the first Negro regiments 
organised by the Federal Government, they were 
not the first coloured soldiers to engage in battle 
on the side of the Federal Government. In August, 
1862, a coloured regiment, composed partly of 
fugitive slaves from Missouri, was recruited in 

into the service of the United States until January,
1863, a detachment of it was attacked by Confederate
soldiers at Island Mound, Missouri,
October, 28, 1862, but after considerable fighting
the coloured troops succeeded in beating off their
opponents. This was the first action in which
Negro troops were engaged in the Civil War.
After the emancipation proclamation was issued 
on January 1, 1863, the work of enlisting coloured 
soldiers was taken in hand in more serious fashion. 
Early in the year 1863, Governor John A. Andrews 
secured permission to organise a regiment of coloured 
troops. On April 12, of that year, the Fifty-fourth 
Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry, composed of 
"persons of African descent," had completed its 
quota, and shortly after this two other coloured 
regiments were organised. These were the first 
soldiers recruited from among the free coloured 
people of the North. To complete these regiments, 
coloured people were summoned from all of the 
Northern states. Governor Andrews was greatly 
assisted in the work of recruiting the coloured 
people to fill these regiments by Frederick Douglass 
and the coloured abolitionists, William Wells Brown 
and Charles Lenox Remond. Among the coloured 
soldiers who sailed for South Carolina with the 
Massachusetts regiments were two sons of Frederick 
Douglass, Lewis H. and Charles R. Douglass.

Among the coloured people who enlisted in the 
Federal army at this time there was a large number 
who afterward distinguished themselves in some 
way in public life. Among others I recall two 
bishops of the African Methodist Episcopal Church 
and several men who afterward became prominent 
in politics, among them P. B. S. Pinchback, who 
was in the First Volunteer Louisiana Infantry, and 
afterward became Lieutenant, and for a time, 
Acting Governor of Louisiana during the stormiest 
days of the Republican rule in that state. Charles 
E. Nash, who was afterward Representative from 
Louisiana in the Forty-fourth Congress, enlisted 
as a private in the United States Chasseurs 
d' Afrique, and afterward rose to the position of 
Acting Sergeant-major of his regiment.
Bishop Henry M. Turner is said to have been the 
first coloured chaplain to receive a commission from 
the Federal army. Bishop Turner was living at this 
time, in 1863, in Washington, District of Columbia, 
where he was serving as pastor of Israel Church. 
Bishop William B. Derrick, the other A. M. E. 
bishop who served in the war, was born in the 
Island of Antigua, British West Indies, July 27, 
1843, a decade after England had granted freedom 
to the slaves in the West Indian colonies. He was 
educated in a Moravian school at Graceland. It 
was intended that he should be a blacksmith, but 
he took to the life of the sea, and became a sailor 

New York. This led him to enlist in the war
for the freedom of the coloured people in the United
States. He served on the flagship of the North
Atlantic Squadron, the Minnesota, and at the close
of the war became a citizen in the United States.
Among the other coloured men who enlisted 
in the Civil War was George Washington Williams, 
who afterward served as an officer of artillery 
in the Mexican army. Mr. Williams was born in 
Bedford Springs, Pennsylvania, October 16, 1849. 
After the Civil War was over he studied law for a 
time in the office of Judge Alphonso Taft, father 
of President Taft, and in the Cincinnati Law 
School. In 1879 and 1881, he was a member of 
the Ohio Legislature. From 1885 to 1886, he was 
Minister to Haiti, and in 1888, was a delegate to 
the World's Conference of Foreign Missions at 
London. He was a writer and a newspaper man 
of some note and is the author of a "History of 
the Negro Race in America," to which I have 
frequently had occasion to refer, in the preparation 
of this book.
Joseph H. Rainey, who was a member of the 
Forty-second, Forty-third, the Forty-fourth, and the 
Forty-fifth Congress, as Representative from South 
Carolina, served for a time in the Confederate 
Army. Joseph Rainey was born in Georgetown, 
South Carolina, June 21, 1832. His father and 

freedom. When the war broke out Mr. Rainey
was working at his father's trade of barber.
Being a free man he was drafted into the service
of the Confederate Army and compelled to work
upon the fortifications, until he succeeded in
escaping to the West Indies, where he remained
till the close of the war.
A small number of coloured men, probably as 
many as seventy-five, were granted commissions as 
officers in the latter part of the war. Major Martin 
R. Delany, and Captain O. S. B. Wall, both of 
whom were detailed in the Quartermaster's Department, 
attained the highest rank of any of the coloured 
officers in the Army. Dr. A. T. Augusta, who afterward 
became one of the leading coloured physicians 
of Washington, District of Columbia, and Dr. Charles 
B. Purvis, a son of Robert Purvis, the coloured 
abolitionist of Philadelphia, were the best known 
of the coloured army surgeons during the Civil 
War. Dr. Purvis has been for many years a teacher 
and officer in the School of Medicine at Howard 
University.
From first to last no less than 178,975 Negro 
soldiers were mustered into the United States 
Volunteer Army during the course of the Civil 
War. Of this number, 36,847 were reported killed, 
wounded, or missing. The coloured troops did 
not have an opportunity to participate in many 

serve in nearly every military department
in the United States and took part in four hundred
and forty-nine battles. In addition to the large
military force mentioned there were at least 150,000
Negro labourers employed in the Quartermasters'
and Engineering Department. They were employed
as teamsters and as cooks or in the building of
fortifications.
The first general engagement in which coloured 
soldiers took part was the assault upon Port Hudson, 
Louisiana, made by the troops under General 
Banks, May 27, 1863. There were eight regiments 
of coloured troops among the forces that took 
part in this assault, and among them was the first 
Louisiana Native Guard, organised by General 
Butler. This regiment is said to have suffered 
heavier losses than any other regiment engaged 
in the assault, losing in all one hundred and twenty-nine 
officers and men.
The soldiers in this same Department did some 
desperate fighting a few days after, June 6 and 7, 
1863, at Milliken's Bend. This post was defended 
by about fourteen hundred men, all of them newly 
organised and undisciplined black soldiers, with 
the exception of one hundred and sixty men of 
an Iowa regiment which chanced to be there. The 
battle lasted for eight hours, during which the 
soldiers came to close quarters and fought hand 

Although the attacking force was said to have been
considerably superior to that of the black troops,
the latter succeeded in repelling the attack and in
driving off the enemy.
Two of the most desperate battles of the war 
in which coloured troops were engaged were the 
assault of Fort Wagner, July 18, 1863, in which 
the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, the first regiment 
of coloured soldiers to be recruited in the North, 
was engaged, and the battle of Honey Hill, South 
Carolina, November 30, 1864, in which the Fifty-fifth 
Massachusetts, the second coloured regiment 
raised in the North, was engaged. It was in the 
assault of Fort Wagner that the gallant Colonel 
Robert G. Shaw fell dead at the head of his Negro 
regiment and mingled some of the best blood of 
New England with that of these black men whom 
he had volunteered to lead in the fight for the 
freedom of their race. It was in this same battle 
that Sergeant William H. Carney of the Fifty-fourth 
Massachusetts, though wounded in the head and 
in the shoulder and in both legs, carried the National 
flag of his regiment across the open field which 
separated him from safety, where he handed it 
over with the words which made him famous: 
"Dey got me boys, but de old flag neber touched 
de groun!"
After the war, Sergeant Carney returned to 

the time of his death, in the early part of December,
1908, was employed at the Massachusetts State
House in Boston, where the torn flag that he had
kept flying upon the battlefield at Fort Wagner
is still preserved among the other colours of the
Massachusetts regiments.
Following the death of Sergeant Carney, in 
Boston, Mr. N. P. Hallowell wrote a communication 
to the Boston Transcript in which he gave so accurate 
and concise a description of this battle and 
the part that Sergeant Carney had in it that I 
have ventured to reproduce it here. Mr. Hallowell 
wrote: 
Sergeant William H. Carney was one of the colour-bearers of the 
Fifty-fourth Regiment, Massachusetts Volunteers, when the 
famous assault upon Fort Wagner, South Carolina, was made at 
twilight on the evening of July 18, 1863. In that assault Colonel 
Robert Gould Shaw fell dead upon the parapet. Captains Russell 
and Simpkins and other brave men fell while keeping the 
embrasures free from the enemy's gunners and sweeping the crest 
of the parapet with their fire. Lieutenant-colonel Edward H. 
Hallowell reached the parapet. Desperately wounded, he rolled 
into the ditch, was again hit, and with great difficulty managed to 
crawl to our lines. An unknown number of enlisted men were 
killed within the fort. Forty enlisted men, including twenty 
wounded, were captured within the fort. The State flag, tied, 
unfortunately, to the staff with ribbons, was lost. The staff itself 
was brought off. The national colours planted upon the parapet 
were upheld and eventually borne off by Sergeant William H. 
Carney, whose wounds in both legs, in the breast and right arm 
attest his devotion to his trust. His words, "The old flag never 
touched the ground, boys!" are immortalised in the pages of history 

twenty-two officers and six hundred and fifty enlisted men. Fourteen
officers were killed or wounded. Two hundred and fifty-five
enlisted men were killed or wounded. Prisoners, not wounded,
twenty. Total casualties, officers and men, two hundred and
sixty-nine, or 40 per cent. The character of the wounds attests
the nature of the contest. There were wounds from bayonet
thrusts, sword cuts, pike thrusts and hand grenades; and there
were heads and arms broken and smashed by the butt-ends of
muskets.
It is fit that the last act, the act which cost his life, should be 
one of courtesy. In stepping aside to make room for another his 
leg was caught and crushed. Sergeant William H. Carney was a 
gentleman. Peace to him.
Coloured troops took part February 20, 1864, in 
the disastrous battle of Olustee, Florida, in which 
the losses were quite as severe, it is said, as in 
any other battle of the Civil War. Speaking of 
this battle, Colonel J. R. Hawley, who commanded 
the First Brigade in this engagement, says: "Old 
troops finding themselves so overmatched would 
have run a little and reformed with or without 
order. The black men stood to be killed or 
wounded, losing more than three hundred out of 
five hundred and fifty." In the battle of Nashville, 
the coloured troops were under a life-long 
Democrat, General James B. Steedman, who was 
one of the delegates in 1860 to the Charleston 
Convention which nominated Breckenridge for 
president. It is related that as he rode over the 
field immediately after the battle, he said with a 
grim smile: "I wonder what my Democratic 

fighting them with 'nigger troops.'"
Coloured troops took part in the campaign which 
resulted in the fall of Richmond. June 15, 1864, 
they captured seven guns in front of Petersburg 
and, on July 30, they took part in the disastrous 
attack at the "crater" in which 4,000 men were 
lost, wounded or captured in a fruitless and 
hopeless assault.
Finally, when General Weitzel took possession 
of Richmond on April 3, 1865, he was in command 
of a corps made up entirely of Negro soldiers. It 
was a Negro soldier who hauled down the 
Confederate 
flag and it was Negro soldiers who assisted 
in quenching the fires which had been started, 
when the Confederate soldiers evacuated the city, 
thus saving the helpless citizens who were left 
behind much loss and suffering. It illustrates 
to what extent the Negro soldiers had won the 
favour of the Federal officers who commanded 
them that black troops were called upon to maintain 
order in the confusion and anarchy which reigned 
at this time in the abandoned capital of the Confederacy. 
Two years before, the same General 
Weitzel, who was in command of the Negro troops, 
who at this time took possession of Richmond, had 
written to General Butler to be relieved of his 
command in Louisiana because, as he said, he 
"could not command Negro regiments." At that 

army was to bring about a servile insurrection for
which he did not care to be responsible.
The services which the Negro troops performed 
in the Civil War in fighting for the freedom of 
their race not only convinced the officers who commanded 
them and the white soldiers who fought 
by their side that the Negro race deserved to be 
free, but it served to convince the great mass 
of the people in the North that the Negroes were 
fit for freedom. It did, perhaps, more than any 
other one thing to gain for them, as a result of 
the war, the passage of those amendments to the 
Constitution which secured to the Negro race the 
same rights in the United States that are granted 
to white men.
 At a meeting of the Congregational and Presbyterian Anti-slavery Society, 
at Francestown, New Hampshire, Reverend Dr. Harris, a Revolutionary soldier 
who had fought in the battle of Rhode Island, said of the service of the Negro 
regiment in that battle: "Had they been unfaithful, or given way before the enemy, 
all would have been lost. Three times in succession were they attacked, with most 
desperate valour and fury, by well-disciplined and veteran troops, and three times 
did they successfully repel the assault, and thus preserved our army from capture." 
Quoted from "The History of the Negro Race in America," vol. i, p. 369.
 Quoted from "Schloezer's Briefwechsel," vol. iv, p. 365, in Williams's "History 
of the Negro Race in America," vol. i, p. 343.
 A letter written to George Livermore from Aaron White of Thompson, Connecticut, 
in regard to the death of Major Pitcairn, says: "About the year 1807 I 
heard a soldier of the Revolution, who was present at the Bunker Hill Battle, relate 
to my father the story of the death of Major Pitcairn. He said the Major had passed 
the storm of our fire without, and had mounted the redoubt, when, waving his 
sword, he commanded, in a loud voice, the rebels to surrender. His sudden 
appearance and his commanding air at first startled the men immediately before 
him. They neither answered nor fired, probably not being exactly certain what 
was next to be done. At this critical moment a Negro soldier stepped forward, and, 
aiming his musket directly at the Major's bosom, blew him through."
|  The story of the Negro, | ||