A Dichotomous Identity in The Narrative of Olaudah Equiano

In his autobiography The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, identity was one of the author’s central themes. Intentionally or unintentionally, the author portrayed his identity as dualistic and dichotomous. This dichotomy was especially pronounced in the use of his two names and in the descriptions of Africa and England, his two homelands. Both of these examples exuded subtle clues that suggest the author’s identity as an English Christian. Vassa clarified his identity through the comparative descriptions of his native African religion and his then-current Christian religion.

            The first dichotomy Equiano portrayed in his narrative was the use of his names. The title of his book included both names by which he was known during his life. The first name listed was Olaudah Equiano, his African name. The second name he listed was Gustavus Vassa, the name he was given by his owner en route to England for the first time. This order implied the name by which he preferred his narrative to be known. Equiano chose to add the phrase “the African” to the title in an attempt to maintain a connection to his land of origin. The name Olaudah represented the folk spirit of Africa, and as an African, Equiano’s story portrayed a stronger ethos to readers.[1]

            Though the author chose to state his African name Olaudah before his given name Gustavus, he almost exclusively used the name Gustavus throughout his life. When aboard a ship to England, the author told his master that he wanted to be known as Jacob. His master refused and gave him the name Gustavus Vassa.[2] The author used the name Gustavus as he moved from owner to owner, and later after he bought his freedom and traveled as a free sailor. Likewise, when he was baptized and later became a missionary to Africa, he continued to use the name Gustavus.[3] The author would have had more clout connected to the name Gustavus than Olaudah among the white community. He may not have been able to make some of his necessary relationships or business transactions with an African folk-name like Olaudah. This tension represented the author’s inner struggle to define himself, both as an African and an Englishman without completely giving up either.

            The second dichotomy Equiano portrayed in his narrative was his sense of home. In the first chapter of his book, Equiano described in detail the society in which he grew up. Equiano portrayed his African society—many miles inland from the Bight of Benin—as very considerate and moral. They established families, made official through a ritualistic marriage ceremony. They exchanged manufactured goods and participated in commerce; they fought wars, and took slaves of their own.[4] Later in his life Equiano returned to Africa, the land of his birth, as a missionary to try and convert his brethren to Christianity. This excursion highlighted the duality of his view of home.[5]

            England became Vassa’s new homeland. He sailed to England fairly soon after his trip across the dreadful middle passage. In England he felt the strongest connections to other people since his sister was taken away from him in Africa. He was able to make friends and learn about Christianity. He was baptized and eventually learned to read, allowing him to delve deeper into the religion.[6] When Vassa was forced to sail to the Mediterranean he deeply wanted to return to his new home in England. Later, when his master betrayed him and sold him to the West Indies, his greatest desire was to return to his beloved England.[7] After Vassa obtained his freedom he returned to England again and again, working as a free sailor and earning his wages.[8] This series of events suggests that Vassa had an emotional connection to England. Despite his very positive descriptions of Africa and his trip as a missionary, Vassa’s heart always remained in England. It was this trip as a missionary that highlighted the last dualistic portrayal of the author’s identity.

            The third dualism Equiano portrayed was his religious identity. This side of his identity was different than the previous two in that his religious identity more notably changed over time. This aspect of his identity was also much easier to define. In the first chapter of his book, Equiano described the religious beliefs and practices from his homeland in Africa. His society had a ritualistic marriage tradition, after which the woman became the sole property of the man.[9] They believed in one Creator of all things, who lived in the Sun and controlled all the events of their lives. Equiano recalled no concept of eternity, but rather a form of transmigration of souls. Some souls were transmigrated to other people or objects, and the souls that did not would attend their families forever. These souls were central to religious rituals practiced there.[10]

            Vassa seemed to have completely renounced the religious aspect of his African identity after he learned of Christianity. In February 1759 Vassa was baptized and began his life as a Christian. He knew enough about the religion that he thought he would go to hell if he was not baptized, a fact that his mistress stressed repeatedly.[11] From this time forward Vassa constantly looked toward this religion in times of peril or heartbreak. When his master sold him to the West Indies he argued that his master had no right to do so, for he was a Christian.[12] Vassa spent an entire chapter describing his full conversion to the faith. He was distressed and began to pray to God for redemption. As a result he claimed to have marvelous visions while he slept which left him “resolved to win heaven, if possible.” He “kept eight out of ten commandments,” but that just was not enough.[13] He continued to work, and began bringing others into the fold. It was then that Vassa went on a mission to Africa. This event was an expression of one of the most telling points of his religious identity. He chose to leave his land of England, to which he had become most accustomed, in an attempt to convert the poor Africans who knew not of Christ. This suggested a complete renunciation of his old beliefs, and showed that he felt it would be best for all Africans to do the same. Gustavus Vassa was a Christian.

            Despite the author’s dichotomous descriptions of his own identity, subtle evidence indicated his identity as an English Christian. His identity changed over time, away from his folk-customs, society, and religion of Africa and toward his Christian, sailor, gentlemanly customs of England. He placed his African name first, yet used his given slave-name most of his life. He described the civilized culture of his Africa, yet embraced the civilized culture of England. Most of all, He renounced his spiritualistic religion of Africa for Protestant Christianity. The author exemplified his dualistic identity in his closing remarks to the Queen, “I am, your Majesty’s most dutiful and devoted Servant to command, GUSTAVUS VASSA, The Oppressed Ethiopian.”[14]

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[1] Olaudah Equiano, The Interesting Narrative of the life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, 1814, in The Classic Slave Narratives, ed. Henry Louis Gates, Jr., (Penguin: NY, 2002) 15.

[2] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 66.

[3] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 81, 229, 230.

[4] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 29-39.

[5] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 228.

[6] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 67, 81.

[7] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 88, 98.

[8] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 166-183.

[9] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 32.

[10] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 39-40.

[11] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 81.

[12] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 97-98.

[13] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 191-192.

[14] Equiano, Interesting Narrative, 247.

Divergent Paths: The Revolutionary Generations of Slavery in America, Berlin Part III

In Part I of his book Many Thousands Gone: The First Two Centuries of Slavery in North America, Ira Berlin discussed the ways Atlantic Creoles, highly cultured peoples of mixed race, shaped the charter generations of African slaves in mainland North America. Part II moved forward chronologically and focused on the Creoles’ successors: the plantation generations, which spread and led to the degradation of black life across North America. Part III, the final section in Berlin’s book, discussed what he referred to as the revolutionary generations. Berlin’s argument focused on the third transformation in the lives of black people in the mainland North America. Seizing the ideas of equality, slaves challenged their masters’ authority, though often unsuccessfully. Berlin claimed that this transformation differed according to the various situations in each region. Freedom only succeeded in the North, and even that was slow and imperfect. Slaves in the Upper South fought hard, but slavery did not crack. The planters of the Lower South clamped down very hard, crushing any thoughts or musings of abolition. The Lower Mississippi Valley emerged with a sharp division between the degraded plantation slaves and the flourishing urban Creoles. Berlin’s organization in this book was impeccable when compared with another book from our class by Edward Gray.

            The great democratic revolutions of the eighteenth century—the French, the American, and the Haitian—set the stage for the third transformation for black people in North America. As mentioned above, slaves took hold of the “egalitarian ideal” and pushed against their masters’ control. They fought to remake themselves and often demanded freedom. The American Revolutionary War offered new leverage and opportunity to challenge both the institution of chattel bondage and structure of white supremacy. Some planters offered their slaves freedom in exchange for military service. The planters’ concessions slowly chipped away at their position within the slave society.[1]

            The context and rhetoric of universal equality permeated the American Colonies during this period. Slavery did not mesh with this emerging rhetoric and further strengthened slaves’ hands. An evangelical upsurge, focused on universal equality before God, accompanied the socio-political focus on the same. Slaves’ physical liberation became intertwined with their spiritual liberation. The brutal slave society of Saint Domingue caught wind of the revolutionary changes in France, and a dispute between free people soon escalated into a full-fledged slave insurrection. By the time the French could get to the island, a free Haiti had emerged. The events of Saint Domingue resonated throughout North America. Free people—slaveholders and non-slaveholders alike—were terrified at such a possibility. Slaves pressed for more control over their own lives, while slave owners smothered the slaves’ expectations and increased their control.[2]

            Berlin Argued that freedom progressed very slowly and unevenly. Only a very small fraction of slaves were actually liberated during this period. In fact, there were more people in bondage after the revolutionary generations than before. Planters fought to reopen the slave trade, a fight which they eventually won. Slave owners pondered the implications of the Declaration of Independence on the Peculiar Institution. This led to a dangerous and twisted reading of the Declaration: if indeed all men were created equal, then perhaps those slaves who remained in their degraded state were not men at all. Thus, the document that set in motion the freedom of many thousands of people led to the repression of thousands more.[3]

            The Age of Revolution, as Berlin referred to it, set in motion two “profoundly different, overlapping, and sometimes conflicting reconstructions.”[4] Liberated people redefined freedom, and enslaved people redefined slavery. As bondmen became free they took on new names, jobs, and residences. They created families, and those families came together to form new communities. Those communities created institutions such as churches, schools, and political caucuses, which white people did not like. Slaves, at the same time, pushed for what advantages they could obtain, such as matters of labor discipline, cultural independence, and institutional independence. Over time, distinctions between free Blacks and slaves became very pronounced. Slaves moved westward toward new plantation lands, while free Blacks moved toward the city. By the end of the revolutionary generations, this divergence led to legal status becoming the most important distinction among Black people in North America.[5]

            Berlin began his assessment of each region with the only example of freedom winning out: the northern states. Nowhere, he argued, did the ideas of the American Revolution hit black society harder than in the North. Revolutionary ideals moved northern slavery backward, first eliminating the remnants of slave society, replacing them with a society with slaves, and eventually transforming it into a free society. This was, however, a very slow and “torturous process.” New York and New Jersey implemented gradual emancipation, locking some slaves into bondage until death and others’ children into bondage for decades. Even after slaves were freed, they remained in a degraded state plagued by discriminatory laws and practices that were aimed at keeping black people dependent.[6]

            Despite the difficult position freed slaves in the North found themselves in, they worked hard and quickly to give meaning to their new status. Freedmen changed their names in an attempt to take control. Moving into new residences, free Blacks found their own jobs and pursued new careers. Freedmen created new communities to build strength and identity as a group, and these new communities created institutions. Churches, schools, and fraternal societies were common among these new Black communities, and offered new opportunities for growth within the larger, white society. A new leadership class emerged and worked hard to maintain unity within these African-American societies. But with new solidarity came new division. Legal, cultural, and racial status became sources of hot contention within the new societies: slaves against former slaves, rural cultures against urban cultures, blacks against people of mixed race. In tragically ironic fashion, once slaves were freed from the oppression and discrimination of slavery, they created new forms of the same amongst themselves.[7]

            Berlin transitioned his argument from the Northern colonies to the Upper South. Previously in his book, Berlin referred to this region as the Chesapeake, which created a more pronounced division between the colonies of Maryland and Virginia and the colonies of the Deep South. It was perhaps a rhetorical gesture to start using the name Upper South in this section, because this period distanced the Chesapeake colonies farther from the North and pulled them closer to the Deep South. As in the Northern colonies, slaves hammered hard against the institution of slavery. Unlike in the in Northern colonies, the institution did not budge. The republicanism and evangelical focus on equality battered the social and political rhetoric that flourished during this period. Yet amongst all the rhetoric, the colonies of the Upper South barely faltered.[8]

            Despite its core dependency on slavery, some areas on the periphery devolved into societies with slaves. This was perhaps mostly a result of declining economic need for slavery in these few areas. Many slaves in these areas were freed, and there began to emerge a simultaneous expansion of black slavery and freedom that redefined black life in the Upper South. These two groups did not strictly diverge among cultural and economic lines as similar groups did in the North. In the Upper South, slave and free blacks united, and occupied the same families, churches, communities, and workplaces. A two-caste system emerged in the region that placed the stark boundary between whites and blacks that would define this region throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.[9]

            The Revolutionary rhetoric that made such changes in the North and the Upper South echoed much differently in the Lower South. Though the American Revolution disrupted slavery, the victory over the British affirmed planters’ power. These slave owners obtained new tools with which to both maintain and expand slavery. There was no abolition as there was in North; there were no musings of emancipation as there were in the Upper South. The Lower South maintained its slave society to the fullest extent. They reopened the Atlantic slave trade and reaffirmed their commitment to the institution and expansion of slavery.[10]

             The restoration and growth of slavery in the Lower South redefined life for African-
Americans. The black majority on the plantation, along with the increased importation of African slaves deepened the connection between Africa and America. The relatively small number of free blacks joined slaves in urban areas to expand their liberty. They dared not use the language of the Declaration of Independence, for the planters in the Lower South took any egalitarian rhetoric as inciting insurrection. Much like the black communities in the North, the small number of free blacks separated themselves from the bondmen and left them to fend for themselves. There was no unity between black people of different legal status or racial composition. A three-caste system emerged within the Lower South: white on the top, brown in the middle, and black on the bottom.[11]

            The last region Berlin focused on was the lower Mississippi Valley, which experienced a very sharp division between slaves on the plantation and Creoles in the cities. The Revolution benefitted free blacks in the cities as they were relied on to join the military in case of invasion. These Creoles looked to the American-European world to establish their roots. The free black population grew dramatically in urban areas, and their communities pressed for full equality as they grew in wealth. Plantation slaves, on the other hand, experienced rapid growth that surpassed any other region in North America. Sugar and cotton shot to the center of the plantation world, which placed the lower Mississippi Valley in the center with them. Spanish authorities reopened the slave trade and transformed the Valley into a slave society. Expansion and “reafricanization” further separated urban free blacks from their plantation counterparts, creating a three-caste system similar to that of the Lower South.[12]

            Berlin presented his argument immaculately throughout the book. He organized each of the three parts meticulously to provide a clear flow within and between sub-arguments. His organization was much easier to navigate than the other textbook from our class, Colonial America: A History in Documents by Edward G. Gray. Gray’s organization was adequate at best. There were times throughout the book when it was hard to pinpoint his argument. It seemed as though Gray compiled a random assortment of primary documents and tried to jam them together into one book. Berlin, on the other hand, had a clear argument with very clear sub-arguments in every part and every chapter of his book.

            The Age of Revolution had a wide variety of effects on slavery in the individual regions of North America. Slaves in the North experienced slow but eventual emancipation. Slaves in the Upper South rarely experienced freedom, but they were closely tied to free blacks. Plantation slaves in the Lower South experienced a tightened grip by their masters, while slaves of the lower Mississippi Valley experienced this tightening perhaps even more than in any other region. Berlin’s organization, unlike Gray’s, made it very easy to navigate and understand his argument. Overall his argument succeeded. He progressed through the three parts of his book clearly and portrayed the consistencies and differences in a well constructed manner. Berlin masterfully conquered this topic in a powerful and enticing way.

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[1] Ira Berlin, Many Thousands Gone: The First Two Centuries of Slavery in North America, (Cambridge: Harvard U.P., 1998), 219.

[2] Berlin, 220-223.

[3] Berlin, 223-224.

[4] Berlin, 224.

[5] Berlin, 224-227.

[6] Berlin, 228.

[7] Berlin, 229.

[8] Berlin, 256.

[9] Berlin, 256, 289.

[10] Berlin, 290.

[11] Berlin, 291.

[12] Berlin, 325-26.

Plantations and Degradation: Slave Societies in North America, Berlin Part II

In Part I of his book Many Thousands Gone: The First Two Centuries of Slavery in North America, Ira Berlin discussed the ways Atlantic Creoles, highly cultured peoples of mixed race, shaped the first generation of African slaves in mainland North America. Part II moved forward chronologically and focused on the Creoles’ successors: the plantation generation. Berlin argued that the plantation institution spread and led to the degradation of black life in North America. Berlin’s argument focused on the transition from what he termed societies with slaves into slave societies. He claimed that this transition differed according to individual situations, and was perhaps most pronounced in the Chesapeake region and the Lowcountry of South Carolina, followed by a unique transition in the North. The Lower Mississippi Valley, according to Berlin, moved in the opposite direction from the other regions: from a slave society back to a society with slaves. The various forms this transition embodied, in connection with individual situations, were comparable to the various effects of the Glorious Revolution on the different colonies.

            Atlantic Creoles permeated societies with slaves, which Berlin defined as societies that utilize slavery but are not economically and socially dependent upon it as an institution. Creoles were able to use their social and cultural experience to better their situation, some to the point of freedom. Their successors were not so lucky. The next generation worked harder and died earlier. Family life was nearly non-existent and they were unable to connect to or understand Christianity, the dominant religion of the white society they found themselves in. The new generation had little opportunity for their own economic interests, a privilege common to their Creole predecessors. All of these indicators of social degradation were reflected in the names they were given by their Planter or Master.[1]

            Planters transformed the society with slaves into a slave society. Slave societies, according to Berlin, are societies that rely heavily upon slavery for the stability of its economic and social structures. These Planters defined race by social status to a greater extent than had ever been done before. They changed the landscape, social classes and relationships, and centers of financial stability. At first, the Planters did not care much about who they enslaved. It was only as Europeans moved Native American tribes farther and farther inland that slavery began to focus solely on Africans. Soon the term “Negro” became synonymous with “slave.” What set apart plantations was its peculiar social order. Nearly one-hundred percent of the gains went to the Planter and nothing went to the slaves. Masters ran their plantations according to the “art of domination.” Slaves had to be in awe of their “metaphorical father,” who incited that awe with systematic and relentless force.[2]

            The Tobacco Revolution brought about the transition into a slave society in the Chesapeake region of Virginia and Maryland. Following Nathaniel Bacon’s rebellion, Planters consolidated their control throughout the region. They instigated slave codes that made slave status hereditary and restricted slaves’ freedoms and prerogatives. The codes created a “mudsill,” which refers to a hypothetical barrier placing any white person above any black person in any and every situation. There was little room for ambition, and the once-vital slave economy withered. Planters imported high numbers of male slaves and stripped them of their identity, constantly increasing the “apparatus of coercion” to demoralize the workers. Slaves who worked in Chesapeake plantations experienced harder work regimens, more days, longer hours, and closer supervision than their Creole Predecessors.[3]

            The Rice Revolution in the lowlands of South Carolina and Georgia was only a small step behind the Tobacco Revolution of the Chesapeake. Similar to the situation in Chesapeake plantations, a rapid increase in demand for rice and indigo led to increased importation of slaves from the Inland of Africa. Increased importation led to massive degradation, both of which far surpassed that of the Chesapeake. The slave society overtook the society with slaves. The lowlands had a black majority: roughly two-to-one in most areas and as high as three-to-one in others. Slaves lived in large units and worked the brutal and tedious cycle of rice and indigo production. Much like their counterparts in the Chesapeake, slaves in the lowlands lost their identities on the plantation.[4] Unlike the North, Chesapeake, and the Lower Mississippi Valley regions, Africanization in the lowlands—the combination of African cultures into the established culture of the plantation—was not a short generation, but lasted a full century.[5]

            The North, according to Berlin, did not experience a plantation revolution akin to those of the Chesapeake and the lowlands. The North transformed rather slowly and unevenly. The transition was much less complete than in the South, and it took place mostly in the urban centers of the Middle Colonies. The number of indentured servants arriving from Europe decreased, thus increasing the importance of the slave labor force.[6] Both the urban elite and the middling sorts held slaves in the North. Slaves transitioned from household tasks artisanry. This important transformation changed the face of slavery in the North. Similar to their southern counterparts, northern slaves became indispensable to the economy. Slave families were unlikely, as mortality rates rose sharply and fertility dropped significantly. Berlin noted that though it was not quite a slave society, it was no longer merely a society with slaves either, leaving the North in a very unique position.[7]

            Berlin claimed that the plantation revolution barely affected the Lower Mississippi Valley. The Louisiana colony already attempted to establish a plantation regime that was at this point coming unraveled. Importation of slaves stopped and the colony devolved from a slave society to a society with slaves. As the plantation economy failed, the slave economy flourished. Slaves inched up the social ladder. Planters knew they needed indigenous population growth for the economy to survive, and the harsh regime mellowed. Slaves built connections through economic and social pursuits that would make life easier at the moment, and their own in the future. Plantation slaves reverted back to the Creole traditions of the charter generation.[8]

            The various ways in which the plantation revolution affected the colonies according to individual circumstances were comparable to the colonies’ various reactions to the news of the Glorious Revolution in Britain. After Prince William of Orange took the throne from the Catholic King James II, British colonies in America each reacted differently. In Maryland Catholics had been supported, though they were a minority. The majority protested, and the colony became a Royal Colony with the Anglican Church as the established religion. In Massachusetts, a mob imprisoned King James’ royal governor along with twenty-five other men and re-established its old form of representative government, though their beloved “Holy Experiment” was over. In New York, after hearing the news of the Dutch Prince William coming to the throne, a Dutchman organized a militia and took over the government. He clamped down very hard on the people before making a very poor decision to attack another colony. The Dutchman was tried and executed by a royal representative. Each of these reactions to the news of revolution was very different because of the social, political, and religious differences among them.[9]

            The colonies’ transitions to slave societies and their reactions to the Glorious Revolution took different forms from one another, largely due to social, economic, and religious variation among and within them. The plantation generation made a major impact on the Chesapeake region and Lowlands of South Carolina, while only affecting the slave society of the North indirectly. Slave societies in the Lower Mississippi Valley devolved in the exact opposite direction from the Chesapeake and the Lowlands. Berlin argued that the common thread throughout each region was the general degradation of slave life that accompanied the transition from a society with slaves to a slave society.  Though the Creole societies faded behind the plantation, they would not be forgotten. The tools used by the charter generations would again be employed as slave societies transformed into free societies.

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[1] Ira Berlin, Many Thousands Gone: The First Two Centuries of Slavery in North America, (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1998), 95-96.

[2] Berlin, 96-98.

[3] Berlin, 109-117.

[4] Berlin, 142-152.

[5] Berlin, 171.

[6] Berlin, 177-178.

[7] Berlin, 179-187.

[8] Berlin, 195-207.

[9] Class discussion, 11/7/11.

Atlantic Creoles and Charter Generations: Berlin Part I

African slavery played a significant role in the history of North America throughout the period of European colonization. In his book Many Thousands Gone: The First Two Centuries of Slavery in North America, Ira Berlin documented and analyzed the development and change of slavery in that continent during that period. Part I of the book argued that African Creoles, highly cultured peoples of mixed race, shaped the first generation of African slaves in mainland North America, through cultivation and use of relationships. He claimed that this was perhaps most pronounced in the Chesapeake region and colonies in the North, while least pronounced in the Deep South and the Lower Mississippi Valley. The Creoles’ ability to use relationships for profit is paralleled by that of Native Americans in the North.

Berlin introduced his analysis of societies with slaves with a description of Atlantic Creoles. Creoles were central characters in these charter generations. Though they had genealogical ties to Africa, Europe, and the Americas they were not strictly from any one of these places. They began as mediators between African and European slave traders on the west coast of Africa. Their business was trade. As the importance of the slave trade and the needs of the Europeans expanded, Creoles found themselves in a volatile position great for bargaining, but lacking a solid identity. Their lack of identity allowed slave traders to use them as scapegoats, and, in some cases enslave them. Slave traders and owners saw Creoles as dangerous because of their proficiency in cultures and languages. For this reason few ended up on plantations in the West Indies, but were taken to marginal slave societies on mainland North America.[1]

Olaudah Equiano, famous example of an Atlantic Creole

            Berlin argued that Creoles shaped the charter generation of slaves in the Chesapeake region. Blacks and whites often worked side by side on tobacco plantations in Virginia and Maryland. At this point no law defined the boundaries of slavery. Many planters allowed or required self-subsistence for their slaves. As a result, slaves often had better food and a better lifestyle. Masters kept a cautious eye while slaves developed their own economic interests, including planting crops and raising cattle and pigs. Slaves would be allowed to make money off their own work and, most importantly, develop social networks. These networks provided an avenue for social mobility, and Creoles used them with proficiency. As long as the line between black and white, free and slave remained blurred, black slavery would only be one labor system among many. Creoles were well acquainted with ethnically diverse economies, and Virginia had exactly that. These individuals climbed the social ladder, many gaining freedom and owning plantations and slaves themselves.[2]

            In the North, slaves were few in number and only marginal to the success of the economy. The slaves that ended up in the North were often unsalable, or “refuse,” which referred to their being unsuited for heavy labor on a plantation.[3] Northerners preferred that their slaves came from the West Indies because of their extensive experience with a wide variety of cultures. For the most part, slaves came to the North individually or in small groups. New Amsterdam and its focus on trade was a haven for Creole slaves. Similar to their Chesapeake counterparts, Northern Creoles developed relationships that would help them improve their station. Rural slaves became jacks-of all trades, while urban slaves worked the wharves and socialized with their white co-workers.[4]

            Charter generations of slaves in the Deep South varied widely due to economic and governmental differences. In South Carolina, rice production led to rapid growth toward a plantation system, and thus the charter generation was quite short. Plantations employed a diverse work force, including Natives, Africans, and Europeans. Slaves set their own work standards, and were required to provision themselves. Masters often provided slaves with a day during the week completely to themselves. Though some laws established strict boundaries between slave and master, these laws were rarely followed or enforced. Florida, a colony claimed as a part of New Spain, proclaimed freedom for all black individuals within their boundaries and refuge for any slaves fleeing the woes of bondage elsewhere. Many runaway slaves from South Carolina made it to Florida and joined the militia, fighting directly against their former masters. Throughout the Deep South, the societies and cultures of Europeans and Africans paralleled and overlapped one another during their first years.[5]

            The charter generation in the Lower Mississippi Valley moved precisely backward from the other charter generations Berlin covered up to this point. It began as a slave society and developed into a society with slaves. Most of the slaves brought into the region were from the interior of Africa. Early efforts to establish a staple-producing colony utterly failed. European colonists, African Creoles, and Native Americans lived together and relied upon one another. Greedy European planters demanded that the French government send them a new workforce or they would desert the colony altogether. France sent roughly six-thousand African slaves to the region in response. Plantations were established, life expectancy was very short, and Creoles did not fit in. Many Creoles fled, taking refuge with the Natives. “Retreat—geographic, social, and physical—slowly liquidated the charter generations.”[6]

             The charter generations of African slaves in North America, as outlined by Berlin, were similar to early civilizations of Native Americans. According to Dr. Kyle Bulthuis, everything for early Native Americans was a relationship; relationships needed to be established whenever new peoples arrived.[7] Native Americans often used trade, like the Creoles, to establish relationships with other tribes and European colonies. This pattern was especially true in the region surrounding New Netherlands and New England. Before Europeans settled in the area, there were multiple tribes speaking similar languages. As they communicated with one another, they realized the economic and social benefits of forming connections. They established a strong bond, and eventually became known as the Five Nations Iroquois. These relationships provided these peoples with power—physically, economically, and culturally.[8] Similarly, some of the Creoles who began their lives in North America as slaves established and nurtured relationships that would provide them with power derived from freedom and land ownership.

             Relationships became a powerful tool for both groups of peoples, who were in fact viewed by the dominant society as savages. Those groups and individuals, seen as uncultured and unintelligent, made some of the most pronounced uses of cultural and linguistic proficiency in colonial history. Previous trade experience with a variety of cultural groups provided these peoples with powerful tools they could, and did, use for social growth. Berlin argued in Part I of his book that Creole relationships, and their ability to foster them, characterized the first generation of black peoples in North America. Evidence suggests that Native peoples used similar tactics to gain political and economic favor in certain situations. The social dynamic of each of the regions Berlin analyzed, specifically the Chesapeake, the North, the Deep South, and the Lower Mississippi Valley, was greatly influenced by the Creoles’ ability to conform to and use the society and culture to their advantage.

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[1] Ira Berlin, Many Thousands Gone: The First Two Centuries of Slavery in North America, (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1998), 17-27.

[2] Berlin, 29-45.

[3] Berlin, 47.

[4] Berlin, 47-62.

[5] Berlin, 64-76.

[6] Berlin, 77-92.

[7] Kyle Bulthuis, HIST 3720, 7 Sept. 2011.

[8] Kyle Bulthuis, HIST 3720, 23 Sept. 2011.

Slave Cabin Narratives: Stowe and Tom vs. Eastman and Phillis

Political and social discourse in the mid-eighteenth century was charged with the issue of slavery.  The nation was divided between pro-slavery sentiment and anti-slavery sentiment, with some staking out the middle ground.  Harriet Beecher Stowe stakes her claim among the anti-slavery sentiment in her novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin.  With literary proficiency, Stowe claims the diabolical inception of slavery as an institution, describes the horrors of the slave trade, and pleads for freedom to all individuals.  Many Southern authors write in direct response to the negative claims made in Uncle Tom’s Cabin.  One significant example is Aunt Phillis’s Cabin, by Mary Eastman.  Eastman claims the divine origin of slavery, portrays the improved and happy state of black slaves, and points out the unethical, indeed hypocritical, nature of abolitionists.  Stowe and Eastman exhibit many opposing, and some similar views.  This analysis will consider some of the main differences between the two opinions, followed by a consideration of some of their similarities.  A few significant topics will then be reviewed from each author’s point of view: slaveholders, opponents to slavery, the societies of the North and the South, and the idea of freedom.

            There are a few key differences in the way Eastman and Stowe analyze the institution of slavery.  Mary Eastman’s argument is based partially on a certain interpretation of the Bible.  Ham, the son of Noah, brought the wrath of God upon himself because of sin.  God cursed Ham and his posterity to forever be a subservient race to God’s chosen people (E, 13-15).  According to Eastman’s interpretation, this curse has existed since that time.  Southerners enslave Africans, because they are direct descendents of Ham.  Eastman says there is no reference in the Bible condemning those who enslave the “heathens” (E, 15-16).  On the contrary, God’s Biblical Prophets held slaves.  When Jesus came he did not free the slaves, though he encountered many, nor did his Apostles after he died (E, 18-20). 

            Along with her argument that slavery is sanctioned by the Bible, Eastman claims that Southern slaves are much better off as slaves than they would be otherwise.  Once they finish their daily chores, the slaves can enjoy their evening pleasantly.  In Eastman’s words, they are “all at ease, and without care.”  Their cabins are neat and clean, where they can relax in their scene of real enjoyment (E, 30).  When they are freed, slaves are never as happy or comfortable as they were with their master.  Susan is Eastman’s runaway example.  “Poor Susan!” Eastman laments.  She has absolutely no means, no money.  Her guilt for leaving her mistress is piling on her and her feelings are constantly agitated.  Truly, according to Eastman, Susan feels she is “out of the frying pan and into the fire” (E, 58-61).  At least with her mistress, Susan was well provided for and she was at peace.

              Stowe argues that slavery has a much more sinister birth than that claimed by Eastman.  According to Stowe, slavery comes from the devil himself.  The devil provides slavery as a tool for men to use in worldly pursuits.  Planters use it to make money—the love of which, according to the Bible, is the root of all evil.  Clergymen use it to please the planters, who in turn do favors for the clergymen.  Politicians use it to rule by, and are sustained by the planters and clergymen (S, 331). 

Because the devil himself is at the root of the peculiar institution, Stowe claims that “it is impossible to make anything beautiful or desirable in the best regulated administration of slavery.” Kentucky is seen as one of the most virtuous regions for slavery, yet slaves in that region must always fears the possibility that they will end up down South with a vicious planter (S, 51). 

Eastman and Stowe do have a few areas in which their analyses of slavery overlap.  One major similarity between the two is their view of the slave trade, primarily the splitting up of families.  In Aunt Phillis, the main planter, Mr. Weston, tells a story about Lucy, a slave woman whose children have all been sold away.  She is immensely distraught and heartbroken, and her story has a powerful impact on Mr. Weston.  He says that he looks upon this act, namely the splitting up of families, with “horror.”  In his opinion, “it is the worst feature in slavery.”  According to Weston, this act is quite uncommon, because most men have more virtue than that, and those who don’t would lose their reputation in the neighborhood (E, 44-45).  Stowe likewise cites the sale of a child away from its mother.  After Tom, an exceptionally pious slave, loses his kind master he is put up for sale to the highest bidder.  The night before the auction, all the slaves are locked in a large warehouse.  All through the night and into the morning, slave owners and traders come in to check the selection.  They do so as they would a piece of livestock: checking the hands and feet, inspecting the teeth, having them perform small tasks to prove their soundness.  Tom is sold to a gruff man, who also buys a young woman and her new child.  They board a ship to head for their new home, and as the woman sleeps the man sells the child to a man as he disembarks.  The woman is absolutely distraught (S, 467-479).  Stowe uses this example to show the barbarity and selfishness that is involved in such an act.

Another similarity between Stowe and Eastman’s analyses is the effect of slavery on slaveholders.  Often, according to Eastman, slavery is just as hard on the master as it is on the slaves.  Mr. Weston looks at the “grieving, throbbing souls” and wonders that God has not provided a solution.  It is true, he acknowledges, they did sin, but what a terrible punishment.  If there was an easy way, and a just way, for emancipation and colonization he would do it; unfortunately there is no easy way (E, 234-235).  Stowe uses St. Clare as an example of how slavery impales slaveholders.  After his cousin, Miss Ophelia, accuses him of defending the institution, he says to her that if the whole country would sink as a result of this horrible sin of slavery, “I would willingly sink with it” (S, 332).  He was born into the chattel system as the son of a planter.  When his father died, he inherited half of his slaves, and seeing no rational or worthy way to rid himself of the horrible system, he has stayed.  It hurts him every day to think that these people he holds as servants are not, and most likely never will be, free (S, 329-344).

As can be seen in the previous analyses, Eastman and Stowe portray slaveholders in some interesting ways.  Eastman argues that discipline and redirection are handled much more humanely than many Northerners think.  It is common for a slaveholder to talk issues through with their servants, rather than always resorting to violent measures.  Mr. Weston explains issues to his servants and lets them know exactly what he expects of them.  When his servant Phillis admits to him that she let a local runaway sleep in her cabin, he tells her that he understands why she did it, but makes it clear that she is not to do it again.  He explains that the runaway is nothing but a trouble maker, and that the laws of the land must be respected.  With that, he sends her back to her work (E, 116-119).  This interaction portrays slaveholders as fathers to their servants, trying to show them the way.  Thus it is in the slaveholder’s best interest to make keep his slaves happy (E, 45).

Stowe’s view of slaveholders is less idealistic than Eastman’s.  Stowe admits that there are likely many slaveholders who are good men.  They are a part of the slave system simply because they were born into it.  The example of St. Clare has previously been mentioned.  He is good at heart, and wishes there was more he could do to effectively improve the slaves’ position (S, 329).  According to Stowe these are not, however, the majority.  A system which was founded by the devil, as Stowe claimed, has a greater tendency to corrupt men, and lead them to as much temptation as possible.  These men are more likely to run things by force and fear.  Any slave who chooses to defy the master’s decision or direction is beaten into submission.  The master enjoys it, and is proud of his accomplishment (S, 483-484).  It is a slippery slope, according to Stowe’s narration.  If slaveholders feed the passion for and enjoyment of beating slaves into submission, that passion can lead a man to kill out of sheer passion (S, 539-540, 557-558, 578, 582-585).  Thus, slavery has an astonishing ability to corrupt men.  Corruption can, however, also come from the opposition: the abolitionists.

Abolitionists are treated differently between Eastman and Stowe.  Eastman portrays abolitionists as hypocritical, telling southern slaveholders to give up what is rightfully theirs, but “does he offer to share in the loss? No.”  According to Eastman, these “fanatics” will never bring about the emancipation of the slaves.  Indeed, it will never happen by force, but by God’s will only (E, 51).  Abolitionists “seduce” slaves to run away, but that is as far as their Christian virtue goes.  They are otherwise concerned about their own time and money (E, 58, 60).  Eastman says that the abolitionist cause would be much more respectable with “a few flashes of truth” (E, 119).  This view of the opponents of slavery comes off quite harsh, and that is Eastman’s point.  Abolitionists are seen by Southerners at the time as sinister little devils, trying to concoct a way to ruin the entire Southern way of life. 

Stowe’s portrayal of abolitionists is much less harsh overall.  Early in the book, Stowe introduces a kind hearted woman in Kentucky that believes that slavery is wrong.  All she wants to do is help the “poor creatures” by giving them a place to sleep, some food to eat, and some clothes to wear.  She does not intend to hide them there at her home, but simply to be a good Christian, indeed a Good Samaritan (S, 142).  Her husband, a Senator, had voted to pass and uphold the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850.  However, upon personal experience with a ragged runaway slave, the Senator’s heart is touched and he himself helps the runaway (S, 147-161).  In an attempt to avoid oversimplification, Stowe points out that many abolitionists are just as racists as any slaveholder.  They want freedom for the slaves, but beyond that they want nothing to do with them.  Miss Ophelia is astonished that St. Clare lets his children kiss the servants.  She is thoroughly disgusted with the sight (S, 255-256).  This portrayal is similar to Eastman’s, but employs a slightly softer tone, suggesting Stowe’s concern for offending good-hearted abolitionists. 

Eastman and Stowe agree that Northern society is not as virtuous as its citizens claim it is.   Eastman revealed the secret of Northern emancipation: they were “relieved from the necessity of slavery” (E, 23).  If the Northern economy was still based on large-scale agriculture, they would likely still have slaves to do the work.  Because of the shift toward manufacturing and commercialism in the North, there is very little need for a workforce of slaves.  Yet the Northerners feel they have a right to judge the actions of the South, which judgments, Eastman claims, are based on false information (E, 71).  These hypocritical Northerners turn around and treat those of Irish descent worse than Southerners treat their black slaves (E, 73-74).  Stowe gives an example of Northern hypocrisy.  Miss Ophelia, St. Clare’s cousin, is from New England.  She has come down South to stay with her cousin, because his wife is sick and cannot run the estate.  Miss Ophelia constantly talks about what she would do if she were a slaveholder.  She would be kind, and try to teach them right.  As a playful test, St. Clare buys Miss Ophelia a slave girl named Topsy, and tells her it is her opportunity to teach her.  Miss Ophelia is horrified, and says that she does not want anything to do with “that thing,” which is so “heathenish” (S, 351-353).  If emancipation were to take place, Northerners would need to change the intense racism they exhibit, and that is as hard a task as emancipation.

Southern society is exemplified by both Eastman and Stowe largely through women.  Eastman describes Southern society as virtuous and decent.  Southern women, according to Eastman, have a lot of class and are very understanding of others.  They are very kind to their servants.  At the periods of the day designated for rest, white slave owners do not call on their slaves for help, because they respect the fact that the slaves have very little that brings them pure joy (E, 163).  Indeed, Eastman argues, the South is much more virtuous and humane than many Northerners think.  If they would but come to the South, they would see it (E, 206).

Stowe’s view of the South is very different from Eastman’s.  When people are surrounded by servants their entire life, they become selfish, cynical and harsh.  Marie St. Clare, the slaveholder’s wife, is the woman onto whom Stowe packs all of these unfortunate traits.  Because she grew up wooing all the men within her society, Marie thought St. Clare was very lucky to have her.  She takes and takes and does not give anything back, especially when it comes to love (S, 242).  Marie is very cynical about other people and their motives, especially slaves, due to her extensive experience with the chattel system (S, 257).  Marie, and through interpretation Southerners as a majority, have become rather harsh.  Marie believes that the only way to keep a good slave is to break them: put them down and keep them down (S, 265).  This portrayal shows some major defects within Southern society, and suggests a possible flaw in Southern ideology.

The idea of freedom, and the way in which that idea is portrayed, is very different in each of the two works.  Eastman portrays freedom as an ambiguous thing.  Abolitionists, Eastman argues, want to give slaves their freedom, namely the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  When they remove these slaves from the plantation, they provide them with no means to accomplish those pursuits.  How could emancipating the slaves provide them with these liberties if they have absolutely no means of accomplishing the ends described (E, 66-68)? On a religious note, Eastman returns to her point that slavery was instituted by God.  Because it was a commandment of God, only he can emancipate the slaves.  Freedom is something that no man should take, even for himself.  Eastman uses her character Phillis as an example.  Phillis’s master takes her North with him on business, where she is encountered by abolitionists.  They ask her why she does not just leave, and take her own freedom.  She replied that if her master were to give it to her, she would be more than happy, but she would never take anything, including her freedom (E, 103-104). 

Stowe’s view of freedom is very different from Eastman’s.  To Stowe, freedom is not ambiguous.  Freedom is what every man yearns for.  After St. Clare tells Tom he will set him free and let him return to his family Tom is ecstatic.  St. Clare asks him if he has not been well provided for, because in fact Tom clothing and home would not be nearly as nice as they are now if he were a free man.  Tom said that he had been very well provided for, but he would rather have poor man’s clothing, home and everything, “and have ‘em mine” than have nice things (S, 441).  For Tom, freedom is the most desirable thing in the world.  Stowe asks, “What is freedom to a nation, but freedom to the individuals in it?”  Freedom to Stowe is not identified by a nation.  If a nation claims to be free, it means nothing unless the individuals therein are free: individuals with “the right to be a man, and not a brute;” men free to protect their wives and educate their children (S, 544-545).  Freedom is for individuals.

Overall, Stowe portrays the institution of slavery as fundamentally flawed and immoral.  As a result of its wicked inception, individuals and societies that allow and revere the institution are negatively affected.  There is no easy solution to the problem; nevertheless, the problem needs to be dealt with.  Eastman suggests that the peculiar institution is established by God, and though there are some vices connected with this way of life, the virtues and humanitarianism found therein greatly outweigh them.  Both works conclude with an appeal to a higher power, calling on the North and the South to remember that they will be held responsible before God for their actions (S, 629, E, 281).  Ultimately, Stowe seeks action to eventually end the slave system; Eastman seeks action, from the North and the South, to take care of their own poor.  These opposing views translate into a larger, socio-political sphere where discourse of this nature continues throughout the eminent war between the two regions.