Hunters and Hunted in Newark After the Revolution

Newspaper Illustration of Runaway Slave, early 1800's

When teaching about the nature of personal freedom in the Newark of America’s early years (1800-1850), students at Arts High, and just about any high school, typically start out with an inaccurate picture. In their elementary years, New Jersey’s students are taught that before the Civil War, a person was either “free” or “slave.” But a quick glance through the archives of Newark’s earliest publications proves that the human condition, from a legal standpoint, was far more complicated than that. To be blunt, a majority of human beings in Newark during colonial and up to early Republican times were not “free” at all, at least not in the modern sense of the term.

When I ask my wonderful, curious students how they define the concept of “personal freedom,” their responses are almost always similar. Earlier this year, one student defined it as “the right to go where I want to go, make money, and be who I want to be with.” Another student, I feel, hit the concept more directly on the head when she said it meant “people don’t have the right to get into your personal space and grab or hit you whenever they want to.”  Either way, I agree with both definitions. And there were a lot of people in Newark the early 1800’s that wanted to be free, no doubt. We know this for a fact because pursuers of all types not only chased those they claimed to own or control, they took out ads to ask for help. Both the hunters and hunted are found in the advertisement sections of local papers.

Though America had recently fought and won a war for independence against Britain, the local social order had changed little. History tells us that there were several categories of people who were not “free” in any sense of the word during this period, both in Newark and the nation at large. They were: black slaves, indentured servants, married women, anyone under 21 and those who could not afford to pay their debts. All were present in Newark, and (combined) made up the majority of the people living in not only the city but the state as a whole. None of these people had the right to vote, to travel freely or to earn their own money. Free, adult white males were the minority. They could usually vote (if they owned enough property), but Newark was no democracy.

Black slaves were present in the city and state in the early 1800’s, and in large numbers. New Jersey was a northern state, but its complicated and gradual emancipation laws kept slavery alive right up to and including the Civil War years. Under the Constitution’s Fugitive Slave Clause, slaves who fled their masters for any location in the U.S. would always be slaves from a legal standpoint. And so would their children – even if they were born in so-called “freedom”.

White masters would chase their runaways to the ends of the Earth, and they would put up big money to bring them in. In one 1802 ad appearing in Newark’s so-called Centinel of Freedom, Matthias Denman offered a $20 reward for a runaway. The slave, named Frank, was described in typical bigoted manner as “a short chunky fellow, full faced, big mouth, thick lips, and a flat nose pocked-marked.” Denman went on to say that anyone capturing and imprisoning Frank would not only receive a reward but also any additional money for “reasonable charges.”

That same year the pages of the Newark Centinel told of the efforts some black slaves undertook to keep their families united against a society that was bent on their degradation. In one extensive ad, master Nathaniel Seabury tells of a 25 year old runaway named Bill. The description reveals the brutality of the bondage of the times, as the ad states that Bill had “a large scar on the calf of his leg, occasioned by a cut with a scythe.” For those who don’t know, a scythe is a machete like tool, frequently used by masters and overseers to inflict large gashings on the flesh of uncooperative or resistant laborers. Bill, the ad continued, fled with a woman named Hannah, “who he calls his wife.” Generously, the master offered $20 reward for both, but $10 if only one can be brought in.

Black slavery was not the only form of involuntary servitude in the early 1800’s. There was a form of white slavery too, though it was limited by legal contract, called “Indentured Servitude,” or “Bonded Apprenticeship.”

This strange kind of servitude was for a limited time only (5-7 years), though from an early-American standpoint, it might as well have been for an eternity. Basically there were two ways a white person could become an indentured servant. The most common method was to have a master pay for one’s transatlantic voyage from England or Ireland. In return, the servant pledged to work, wage-free, for a master. Poor parents (or orphanages) could also “sell” their children into this bonded state. But there were stipulations. The master was traditionally and legally required to teach the servant a skill, and provide room and board for him. Indentured servants were not considered property, and they couldn’t be killed or maimed. During the contracted period the servant was “bonded,” in that, he or she could not just get up and leave or find other compensated work. At the end of the duration, the servant became free and equal to his or her master, and was generally given some tools, money, property and an all-important letter of reference.

Both then and now, a five to seven year contract was dangerously long for a young person. This was a time in history when many people died in their 20’s and 30’s. Equally important was that this was an age where a free man would earn high wages for his physical labor, as well as purchase cheap land west of the Delaware River. The temptation to flee was a powerful one, and flee they did.

Masters tried to fight back, again by taking out ads offering rewards for “absconding apprentices” and also warning potential employers that paying these escapees for work was illegal. One master named Jacob Davey offered Newark residents a $10 reward for the return of one Thomas McKenzie. The servant was “bound to learn the Blacksmith’s trade,” and had gone off with permission to visit his parents in New York. But since then had vanished. Davey was particularly worried that the boy was interested in long-distance travel. Knowing Newark was an East Coast port, the master warned that the boy might be interested in boarding an outgoing ship. Smart kid.

We know that debtors fled too. Today, if you don’t pay your bills, you get sued and a bad credit report. In the Newark of 1800, you went to jail, or fled (usually west). The Newark Centinel was filled with ads of “Creditors’ Meetings” where the assets of “absconded” debtors would be divided up in an orderly fashion. It would only be later in the century that the state constitution would ban imprisonment for debt.

And finally, let us not forget the wives. My students are always surprised when I explain to them that when a woman married in the early 1800’s, she became “civically dead.” All of her property, child custodial rights and her very name became that of her husband’s. This very legal practice, called “coverture,” was the norm. Today we see its symbolic legacy continued in the traditions of married women adopting their husband's last names, daughters being “given” away by fathers in wedding ceremonies, etc. But in 1800’s, there were real legal implications for leaving your husband in Newark, New Jersey.

In 1797 we see one furious husband placing an ad in the Centinel. John Liddell tells Newark readers that his wife Sarah had “absconded from my bed and board,” and “in other respects behaved in an unbecoming manner.” Liddell doesn’t so much want her back, as he wants to completely impoverish her. “Therefore, I forbid all persons from trusting her on my account, as I am determined not to pay any debts of her contracting after this date.” In an age when personal reputation commanded one’s level of financial credit, this ad was the equivalent of a financial death warrant.

Newark’s history is America’s history, and when it concerned the never-ending struggle between the controlled and their controllers, this statement could not be truer. One of the most interesting aspects of the American epic is that the concept of “personal freedom” evolved from a limited notion in the years immediately after independence to one of near adult (legal) equality today. But I try to tell my students that this process did not happen automatically. To gain freedom, people – especially in the Newark of the 1800’s - had to run for it, defend it, protect it. 

Examining Newark's Checkered Past on Slavery at Arts High

Newark’s Arts High students, like many of the college students I teach in the evening, are always surprised when we get to the unit on slavery. This is primarily due to the fact that in the elementary grades, black slavery and the movements to promote and defeat it are taught largely from an emotional standpoint. Most, if not all students would tell you (at least until they get to my class) that those who struggled against it were the equivalent of angels, and onlydemonic forces defended America’s “peculiar institution.” While I certainly hold that slavery in anyform is regressive and evil, when it comes to those who argued over it in Newark’s history, the situation becomes much grayer. The facts, at least concerning the Brick City, present us with more or less of an intricate tapestry of ideas, interests and causes.

Newark’s history is American history, and black slavery was one of the major forces that built this nation, North and South. Black slaves contributed to Newark’s growth. Black slaves picked the cotton that got shipped to northern factories (the same factories that employed Newark’s growing immigration population) and manufactured it into clothing and other textiles. Newark leather-makers (tanners) transformed cowhide into specially designed whips that were sold by the thousands to slave masters and overseers in the South.

The role of black slavery was so interwoven in national life that the original Constitution recognized and rewarded its growth inthree clauses no less. The Three-Fifths Clause rewarded white slave-owners with increased political power in Congress. The Fugitive Slave Clause provided escaped slaves with no haven in the so-called “free” states. And most infamously, the 1808 Clause gave every white American the right to travel to Africa, and kidnap and import as many slaves as they wanted to.  

The debate over slavery had been present in Colonial America; the first “abolitionists” were Quakers. But the movement to ban slavery only entered the American political mainstream in the 1830’s and 40’s. Students are always fascinated to find out that here in Newark the abolitionist movement was not universally supported, frequently opposed, and complex within itself.

In the 1830’s, Newark’s abolitionist movement was a far cry from the “freedom and equality now” activists of later decades. It was primarily comprised of white supremacists that detested human bondage but in no way embraced the ideal of racial equality. To promote their aims, 80 of Newark’s top politicians and clergymen founded the Newark Colonization Society (NCS) during this period.

The NCS was part of a broader “colonization” movement that was sweeping abolitionist circles in the 1830’s. For its members, the abolition of slavery was not enough; America was and would always be no place for free African-Americans. Instead, ex-slaves should be sent “back” to Africa. While it was true that by 1830 anoverwhelming majority of African-Americans nationwide were not from there, this made little difference. NCS members gathered together, raised funds, and traveled to distant places like Liberia and Sierra Leone where, in their view, the foundations of an alternate “United States,” albeit comprised purely of former slaves, would be established.

A quick glance at one NCS meeting in July of 1838 displays the seriousness and enthusiasm of some of the city’s most prominent personalities. The society was quickly adding members, and membership required a large financial obligation. Additionally, several associates had recently returned from Liberia in Western Africa to report on the condition of the land and the local population. While we know today that life was extremely harsh in Liberia at this time (and still is, actually), the travelers publicized Liberia as a new Garden of Eden. One traveler claimed to have never seen a drunken man in Liberia, and that “the soil is fertile and easily tilled.” NCS members were also told that Liberia was a place where “men live and thrive there by moral character...” and “…the means of education are abundantly provided…the Sabbath too is universally and religiously observed.” Eventually, Liberia would become an independent country, ironically dominated by an exclusive group comprised of the descendants of American slaves at the expense of inland African tribes.

Newark had its outright, radical abolitionists, but a large portion of the city’s population clearly didn’t welcome them. How unwelcome were they? Well, in 1834, when a Protestant reverend tried to preach a sermon titled “A Discourse on the Sin of Slavery” in a church near Market Street, the results were calamitous. Just a few minutes into the sermon, the hall was surrounded byhundreds of pro-slavery activists who disrupted the ceremony and tore the room apart. These same men also attempted to harm the lone African-American in attendance, but luckily this person was, in the words of the Newark Daily Advertiser, “rescued” and spirited away by a group of young white abolitionists.

Newark’s pro-slavery movement was strong and visibly in the open by the 1830’s. The city, as I wrote earlier, had been a major beneficiary of black slavery, even though slavery itself was dying in New Jersey by this time. City factory owners and tanners whipped up racist sentiment amongst their mostly immigrant workers. Racial hatred was coupled with the claim that if slavery was ever abolished, millions of free blacks would rush north and undercut what was known as the “white wage.” To a recently arrived European immigrant living paycheck-to-paycheck, this was a terrifying prospect.

Pro-slavery residents were well organized. Local papers of the late 1830’s report that one local group included no less than the city’s mayor, several factory owners and some of their employees and apprentices.

In the end, like most New Jersey cities and towns, radical abolitionism never prevailed politically, not even in the year or two before the Civil War. Newark was no Boston. A quick glance at area newspapers from the early 1860’s tell of many mass rallies against secession and treason, but not one (that I could find) against slavery. In this respect, Newark’s sentiments concerning slavery were about the same as Lincoln’s early in the Civil War. Lincoln, “The Great Emancipator,” said on severaloccasions in the war’s first year that the struggle was not about liberating slaves. It was about preserving the Union.

Newark’s record on black slavery is a complex one. Before the Civil War, its citizens were all over the map on whether or not the practice should continue. To look upon these citizens as plainly “good” or “evil” is misleading. I try to impart to my students that life was complex and the fortunes of the city’s residents were interwoven in convoluted economic, religious and sectional forces. So while we might not agree with everyone's choices, we should, as educated people, try to understand their motivations. The final question I have them consider will be the subject of a future blog: are we, as a modern, so-called “connected” people, much different on the hot-button issues of today?