by Taylor, Alan
By refusing to recognize the last names claimed by slaves, masters treated them as perpetual children and dependents. By obscuring their family relationships, the denial of surnames also facilitated treating every slave as a commodity without honor. In public, white men insisted on being addressed by their surnames, reserving their first names for their closest friends. When addressing a black, however, whites asserted superiority by using her or his first (or “Christian”) name. Consequently, a white man bristled when so addressed (unless by a close friend). In a confrontation with an unruly stonemason, the very genteel Joseph C. Cabell took particular offense at his “calling me by my Christian name, as tho he had been speaking to a negro.”30
Slaves claimed and used surnames among themselves to assert their honor and identify their family ties. In the presence of a master or overseer, the slaves usually had to keep mum about surnames, but once free and with the British they could proudly announce their full names. John Cowper explained to Cabell, “Our slaves, as you know, have a way of nomenclature of their own, sometimes taking the surnames of their owners, sometimes of the Families from whence they were derived, after their Fathers if white or Free.”31
By claiming the master’s name, mixed-race slaves sought to remember what the master meant to keep hidden: a blood tie as a daughter, son, niece, nephew, or cousin. Or by claiming the surname of a previous master, a slave could subtly challenge the legitimacy of his sale to a new master. A white man from Norfolk belatedly discovered that “it is most common for negroes to adopt the sirname of their first owner and to retain it.” The persistence of that original surname entered a protest against the accelerating sales that disrupted enslaved families.32
In the Chesapeake, the master sought to reserve his surname, denying the efforts by slaves to claim it. A Virginian explained, “Slaves in Virginia have not been much in the habit of assuming Sir-names especially in an open & publick manner. Their masters generally dislike it. They have done it, however, in many instances and the practice is becoming common. In this case it is believed the slaves adopted the name of their master after going to the British, though it is not known that they did so before.” By claiming the master’s surname, the enslaved Dick Carter asserted a humanity and manhood on a par with Charles Carter at Corotoman. After the war, Augustine Neale closely investigated the names on British lists and concluded, “These negroes were fond of their masters’ names, they being highly respectable people.” No act of submission, taking a master’s surname was instead as defiant as taking his pig at night.33
After the war ended, masters belatedly scrambled to learn the surnames of their runaways in order to identify them on British lists: the surnames provided valuable evidence to support a legal claim for compensation from the government. Masters questioned their remaining slaves to learn the surnames that the masters had previously sought to deny. A token of freedom for the runaway, the surname might later become the master’s ticket to track his former slave down.34
Persuasion
Masters tried to dissuade slaves from escaping by denouncing the British as cunning deceivers who meant to sell them into the harsher slavery of the West Indies. The Richmond Enquirer claimed that Virginia slaves enjoyed “perfect freedom” when compared to the grim conditions of the West Indies. Another writer imagined that the British kept the deluded runaways “constantly at hard labor, in doing all the drudgery and dirty work on the ships; that they are whipped about like dogs, and that if any of them should be taken sick, they are immediately thrown overboard, lest their disease should infect the ship’s crew.” In May 1813 a Norfolk correspondent marveled at the recent surge in runaways from nearby Princess Anne County:
One would have thought, from the treatment which the fathers of these deluded wretches met with, by deserting to the British [during the] last war, that they would have been deterred from such a course; but it seems [that] they have forgot how the great Lord Dunmore enticed the Princess Anne negroes away from their masters, with fine promises, and afterwards shipped them off to Jamaica, where they were sold to masters, whose cruelty, added to the effects of a sickly climate, soon put an end to their lives. The negroes of Princess Anne, with very few exceptions, fare better than a great many poor white families; they are treated with humanity and even with indulgence, and yet, such is the discontentedness of their nature, that we see them flying away from certain good, to encounter that, which from the foul example of Lord Dunmore, they must consider a certain evil.
By insisting that deluded slaves fled from true happiness into sure destruction, masters avoided questioning their own conduct or the slave system.35
Determined to believe their own story, masters claimed that indiscreet British officers had confessed to their profits from selling the runaways in the West Indies. Widely circulated, this scuttlebutt became mistaken for evidence. Governor Barbour officially endorsed the story in a speech to the state legislature in December 1813, when he declared it “now satisfactorily ascertained that they are consigned to the West Indies, sold to the planters at enormous prices and exposed to accumulated hardships.” Virginians convinced themselves that they had to protect their gullible slaves from exploitation by the devious Britons.36
In fact, the Virginians proved especially credulous, believing returning and supposedly repentent runaways who reaffirmed the cherished story of brutish Britons. On January 21, 1814, in Mathews County, a militia officer “was not a little pleased this morning to find two stout Black Fellows in camp.” They had deserted during the night before from a British watering party. When the “Black Fellows” explained that they had grown “heartily tired and anxious to return to their masters,” the officer exulted, “I consider this desertion a valuable occurrence for us, as they will give our negroes a correct account of their situation on board and make them better satisfied at home.” Instead, the number of escapes accelerated from Mathews County, for the “Black Fellows” only pretended to be alienated so that they could return to help their kin escape.37
The masters’ tale won support from Ben George, a free black from Accomack County on Virginia’s Eastern Shore. Convicted of stealing brandy by the county court and sentenced to three years in the state prison, in July 1813 he was sent across Chesapeake Bay in a boat bound to Richmond. Capturing that boat, the British offered to liberate George, but he preferred to proceed on to serve his prison term rather than lose the chance eventually to return to his family and friends in Accomack. Captain John G. Joynes of that county insisted that George had reacted against “the extreme cruelties which he saw practiced while on the board [of] the enemy’s ship.” George played his role perfectly, for the whites of Accomack petitioned for his pardon “not only as a reward for his conduct, but as it is believed he will be the means of preventing many negroes from deserting to the enemy.” A delighted Council of State promptly pardoned George and sent him home. By capturing George, the British did him a great favor, for he could play out a pleasing story that liberated him from jail. But the Accomack slaves continued to run away to the British, for they faced life sentences rather than the three years given to Ben George.38
Masters preached their story of betraying Britons to gathered slaves, with poor results. John Shaw recalled that his master had disingenuously offered to help his slaves join the British if they disliked his ownership. The slaves wisely declined the insincere offer, but a few weeks later Shaw and his compatriots escaped in a stolen canoe. Similarly, a Lancaster County slave named Davy recalled “that his said Master called them all together and asked them if they intended leaving him and going off to the British.” They all professed loyalty, but shortly after midnight three slaves bolted in a stolen dugout canoe. Apparently the master’s speech had backfired by alerting slaves to the nearby warship.39
Runaways mocked owners who pretended to feel a concern for their slaves by warning of British tricksters. A British officer noted that the runaways “possessed infinitely more sense and judgment than their late owners give them
credit for.” Upon reaching a warship, a runaway told that officer, “S’pose you sell me to West Indee planter to-day, what difference ’tween dat an’ Yankee sell me to Carolina planter to-morrow?” Chesapeake slaves knew that sale by their masters to the Deep South was a far more real and imminent threat than any British conveyance to the West Indies. The runaways preferred to take their chances with the British as their best chance for freedom rather than their worst threat of sale faraway. 40
Unwilling to admit that their slaves sought freedom, masters claimed that the British forced them to go away. Any ambiguous evidence became signs of force to their owners. In Calvert County, Thomas M. Harris recalled that the slaves of George Wilkinson “appear’d to be compell’d to go by the Brittish forces, as they were crying so as to be heard . . . at the distance of about one Hundred yards.” But were they mourning the departure from their master or the abandonment of some relatives on another nearby farm? Perhaps they sought loudly to alert other slaves to the chance to get away. We cannot know with the certainty that Harris asserted.41
On the night of June 16–17, 1814, British marines, including black recruits, raided the farm of Elizabeth Ballard on the Patuxent River in Maryland. Alerted that Ballard had hidden a slave girl, Eliza aged ten, in her second-floor bedroom, the British commander sent a black marine named Charles to retrieve her. Ballard’s son insisted that Eliza “had requested to be concealed thro’ fear of being carried off by them” and that she went “against her will and by force.” That seems unlikely, for Charles was Eliza’s father.42
Many masters regarded as force any persuasion by British officers and their guides. In 1814, the British enticed runaways by offering future land as well as immediate freedom and pay for their work. In August in Prince George’s County, a planter found Captain Joseph Nourse of the Royal Navy in his detached “kitchen where the negroes were and . . . distinctly heard Capt. Nourse persuade his negroes to go off and offered them money and told them that they should have land to work and should be free and as well off as any white people.” In St. Mary’s County, a slave named Anthony visited his wife at another farm, where he spoke with British raiders who promised that “he should be free & have land of his own.” Anthony balked until, two days later, he learned “that as his wife had gone with the British, he had better to go, which he did.” Land and freedom were enticing, but the ties of family proved clinching for Anthony. 43
In July 1814 in St. Mary’s County, Nathaniel Washington confronted a group of slaves, including five of his own, preparing to depart with a British raiding party. He “advised them to return to their respective homes, that if they went with the British, they would be either carried to the West Indies or to the Spaniards & sold.” A British officer intervened “and told the Negroes not to mind” Washington. Turning to the master, the officer declared loudly, “They are as free as you are and receive ten Dollars per month for their services.” The officer’s superior, Captain Nourse, then added, “Sir, they are as free as you are. Be gone immediately.”44
On July 20, 1814, Nourse led a raid into that county to plunder the farm and burn the tobacco barn of William Kilgour. “Under the direction of a negro of Mr. Kilgour’s who had gone to them,” the raiders “patiently selected the bacon and other things belonging to him.” They then withdrew with their plunder and two slave boys. Following the retreating British, Kilgour accosted the boys, one of whom agreed to return home: “He was immediately surrounded by a parcel of soldiers & officers, who said he was a fool to go with me. Stay with them, they would set him free & pay him for his services. He, the boy, then said he would remain with them if they would do that for him. They said he was a fine boy & should not be whipped & should be as free as they were.”45
Kilgour recognized two marines as former slaves: “I mentioned to them [that] they would be sorry for their conduct. I was immediately surrounded by the soldiers & officers. They said I must go away, I had nothing to do with them negroes, they were as free as I was & at that time under pay for their services.” Then a runaway “turned around to me & said, yes, he was not going to work for white men for nothing. He was then under pay & slapt his pocket, which appeared to have two or three Dollars in the same.” The British appealed to the pride of young men, their determination to escape the pain and humiliation of the whip, and their aspiration to get paid for their work.46
Masters dismissed “persuasion” as a form of force because slaves had no legal right to leave their owner. In Kent County, Maryland, in September 1814, during a parlay under a flag of truce, a militia officer, Ezekiel Chambers, rebuked a British officer for taking away slaves. Chambers recalled,
He said they had not been carried but had gone at their own request. I told him that it was scarcely necessary to state to him the nature of our slave-laws in this country—that negro slaves were considered as mere articles or property, as much so as a horse or a cow; and [I] asked him if one of Mr. Jones’s horses or cows should have walked into the water and have manifested a disposition to get into his boat whether he would have felt himself authorized to take it off.
Impressed with his own logic, Chambers did not record the Briton’s response, which may have been that a human being could reason as no cow or horse ever could. The officer probably also did not feel bound to obey the laws of Maryland that defined some people as property on a par with livestock.47
In a few cases the raiders did take some slaves by force, scooping up some of the reluctant along with many of the eager. In Calvert County in July 1814, a British raiding party took twenty slaves from a master who reported that “two of which were tied by” the British “and a negro Woman, while endeavouring to make her escape, was fired on and made to return & Join them.” The other seventeen apparently left willingly.48
The best assessment came from Walter Jones, an unusually frank master despite losing twelve runaways. Brushing aside the usual planter rhetoric, Jones admitted that it was “a matter of perfect notoriety here . . . that for one Slave that was forcibly captured, hundreds fled voluntarily to the British forces under the temptations set forth to invite their desertion.” Of course, he denounced those temptations as seductive lies, but Jones recognized their allure to those who chose to join the British.49
The initially reluctant fugitives usually warmed to freedom on a warship once they were paid, fed, and clothed by the British. The newcomers also heeded British warnings that masters whipped and sold away or executed any refugees who returned. A master who visited a warship to cajole a runaway to return reported that he simply “replied that he was in better hands.” Joseph C. Cabell concluded, “Nor is it [a] matter of astonishment that when the lapse of nearly twelve months had weakened the ties of kindred, the dread of punishment if they returned, [and] the prospect of freedom abroad, should have induced the slaves to leave the U. States.” A free black, Charles Ball, visited a warship to try to persuade runaways to return home, but he “found that their heads were full of notions of liberty and happiness” in a Crown colony “where they would have lands given to them, and where they were to be free.” Few runaways fled homeward again except to trick their masters and recruit more runaways.50
Ships
The British insisted that slaves became free by taking refuge under the protecting flag of the empire. As extensions of British sovereignty, the warships brought the liberating Somerset doctrine within tempting sight and sound of the Tidewater slaves. A naval officer assured a master that his runaway “was under the protection of his Majesty’s flag, that by the British Laws there were no slaves and that those laws prevailed on Board his ship; and that as the negro was unwilling to go with him.” The officer “could not compel him to go.” The British stuck to that principle despite offers of ransom money from the planters.51
To refute charges that they took slaves by force, the British encouraged masters to visit the warships, under a flag of truce, to speak to the runaways. The admirals and captains treated these visitors with exquisite politeness. Thomas
R. Yeatman of Mathews County reported, “My reception was kind, familiar and elegant.” The captains promised to release any runaways who consented to return with their masters. But they could meet with the runaways only in the presence of British officers, who refuted any charge that the refugees would be sold in the West Indies.52
After assembling the fugitives on deck, the captain announced, “Your masters come for you, you are at liberty to follow them, but recollect that you are as free as themselves,” which hardly helped the visitors’ cause. The masters then had to persuade the runaways as free people able to decide for themselves: an embarrassing turnabout for planters who had so long commanded and punished them as slaves. An amused Lieutenant Scott described the solicitous speech by some Virginians: “The heroes questioned their late negroes in softened accents respecting the cause of their desertion; some quaint and home[ly] replies to these queries convinced the envoys of their loss of time in the attempt, and they took their departure.”53
The visiting master almost always returned home empty-handed and with an earful from his defiant runaways. Cabell noted that the runaways “were produced, but on being enquired of whether they were willing to return, they declined & some of them very impertinently.” Captain Joseph Nourse reported, “I have never found the smallest disposition in any that have fled from their masters to return. On the contrary, I believe no temptation would induce them to it, nor has any one been carried off by Force.”54
Frustrated masters blamed meddling British sailors or marines, who pointedly reminded the slaves of their risks in returning. In November 1813 on board a British brig, Thomas Archer of Yorktown assured the fugitives “that if they would return with their master they would not be punished. A marine who was stationed at the cabin Door with arms in his hands exclaimed if you return you will all be killed. They were then asked if they would return to their homes with their master. They were much agitated and at last replyed that they could not—weeping at the same moment.” According to Cabell, the British told the runaways “that they w[oul]d be hung immediately on getting ashore, and even pretended that from the tops of their masts, they could see negros hanging on trees along the shore.”55