The Only Unavoidable Subject of Regret": George Washington, Slavery, and the Enslaved Community at Mount Vernon

The Only Unavoidable Subject of Regret

The Only Unavoidable Subject of Regret

George Washington, Slavery, and the Enslaved Community at Mount Vernon

Mary V. Thompson

University of Virginia Press

Charlottesville and London

University of Virginia Press

© 2019 by the Rector and Visitors of the University of Virginia

All rights reserved

First published 2019

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Thompson, Mary V., 1955– author.

Title: The only unavoidable subject of regret: George Washington, slavery, and the enslaved community at Mount Vernon / Mary V. Thompson.

Description: Charlottesville : University of Virginia Press, 2019. | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2018046407 | ISBN 9780813941844 (cloth : alk. paper) | ISBN 9780813941851 (ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: Washington, George, 1732–1799—Relations with slaves. | Slaves—Virginia—Mount Vernon (Estate)—History—18th century. | Mount Vernon (Va. : Estate)—History—18th century.

Classification: LCC E312.17 .T4665 2019 | DDC 973.4/1092—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018046407

Cover art: Potomak Front of Mount Vernon (detail), watercolor and ink over graphite, William Russell Birch, c. 1801–1803. (Courtesy of Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association)

For my husband, Anthony Marrs Bates, who has been with me through good days and many struggles, for almost as long as I’ve been working on this project.

For Jane Brown (1889–1996), a dear neighbor and the daughter of a couple who had been enslaved. Thank you, Miss Jane, for teaching me that a person could live in slavery without being a slave in their heart. Your friendship, your positive spirit, and your ringing testimony of God’s love for you were inspirational. I’m looking forward to sitting and talking with you again one day.

For the unknown and unexpected West African ancestor who provided 0.9 percent of my DNA. I so wish I could talk to you.

Contents

List of Illustrations

Preface

Introduction

1 · I Never See That Man Laugh to Show His Teeth: George and Martha Washington as Slave Owners

2 · A Plant of Rapid Growth: New Ideas and a Change of Heart

3 · To Remain Constantly with the People: Hired, Indentured, and Enslaved Supervisors

4 · So Exact and So Strict: Labor and the Mount Vernon Slaves

5 · They Appear to Live Comfortable Together: Family Life in the Mount Vernon Slave Community

6 · A Mean Pallet: The Slave Quarters at Mount Vernon

7 · And Procure for Themselves a Few Amenities: Recreation and Private Enterprise in the Enslaved Community

8 · Better . . . Fed Than Negroes Generally Are: Diet of the Mount Vernon Slaves

9 · An Idle Set of Rascals: Control and Resistance among the Mount Vernon Slaves

Conclusion: More Than a Father

Appendix

Notes

Bibliography

Index

Illustrations

Figures

1 · Map of the five farms

2 · Original sixteen-sided barn

3 · Washington with Billy Lee

4 · West Ford

5 · East Front of Mount Vernon with slave family

6 · East Front of Mount Vernon with House for Families

7 · Bunk room in reconstructed greenhouse

8 · Slave cabin on an outlying farm

9 · Fragments of a colonoware bowl

10 · Fragments of a stoneware plate

11 · Engraving of The Washington Family by Edward Savage

12 · Fragments of clay pipes, marbles, and jaw harp

13 · Raccoon baculum

14 · Lithograph of graves in slave burial ground

15 · Archaeologist working at Mount Vernon

16 · Gun flint excavated at Mount Vernon

17 · Persimmon seeds

18 · View of the clerk’s quarters

19 · West Front of Mount Vernon

20 · Detail of 1792 West Front

Tables (in Appendix)

1 · George Washington’s acquisition of slaves

2 · Growth of the Mount Vernon plantation, 1760–1774

3 · Growth of the Mount Vernon plantation, 1786

4 · Growth of the Mount Vernon plantation, 1799

5 · Farm managers and overseers at Mount Vernon, 1754–1799

6 · Age of enslaved first-time mothers at Mount Vernon

7 · Age ranges of slaves on the four outlying farms at Mount Vernon, 1799

8 · Births at Mount Vernon, January 1763–December 1774

9 · Births at Mount Vernon, December 1775–May 1779

10 · Births at Mount Vernon, May 1782–August 1787

11 · Births at Mount Vernon, April 1792–August 1798

12 · Origins of names on Mount Vernon slave lists, 1786 and 1799

Preface

In the formation of the United States, there have been a few processes that shaped—and continue to shape—the way Americans see themselves. One of the best-known of these influences, for example, was the frontier, which contributed to the idea of American exceptionalism, that we were destined by God for great things, that we would not be limited by geography to a tiny sliver of land along the Atlantic Coast. It may also be responsible for the celebration of rugged individualism, leading, at its best, to the concept that each person has it within him- or herself to become anything that person wants, and, at its worst, to the belief that those who fail to succeed have only themselves to blame. The fact that we started out as colonies of several European countries may account for two paradoxical, but related, ideas: the inferiority complex many Americans feel in relation to the older and arguably more sophisticated cultures of our mother countries, and also the conviction that, having broken away from the most powerful of them by means of an almost assuredly doomed-from-the-start revolution, that we are better than they and have nothing to learn from those cultures.

Lastly, there is the fact that, for roughly 250 years, this country was built on the labor of unfree people, leading to a number of consequences that extend to this very day. According to some estimates, as many as 75 percent of all new arrivals in the British colonies were unfree, because they were working for a few years as indentured servants to pay back the cost of their travel to the New World, because they were convicts sentenced to labor for others in a foreign land, rather than face either a prison term at home or execution, or because they were enslaved for life.¹ While the first two forms of unfree labor gradually faded, leaving few traces in our collective memory, slavery was something altogether different.

Slavery was nothing new in the world; as an institution it had existed for thousands of years and in many cultures, so it was not something invented in America. But in the Americas—not just the present-day United States but throughout North and South America—slavery took a turn it had not in the rest of the world. Here it developed into a race-based institution, which for individuals held within its bonds was permanent and hereditary. Out of this system came views that people whose ancestors immigrated from Europe were naturally superior to people whose ancestors came from Africa; that black people were less capable, less intelligent, less cultured; and that expectations for them should be kept low. Those ideas meant that for generations after slaves were freed by means of a bloody civil war, they and their descendants were kept from voting, denied an education, segregated from those who considered themselves naturally better, more talented, more capable.

Slavery has been described as America’s original sin: the activity or state of mind that took America from the Edenic promise of its beginning, brought it to a debased and far lesser condition than it might have had, and continues to plague the nation today.² As early as the Constitutional Convention in the summer of 1787, Virginia delegate George Mason declared that slavery brought the judgment of heaven on a Country. As nations cannot be rewarded or punished in the next world they must be in this. By an inevitable chain of causes & effects providence punishes national sins, by national calamities.³ One of our most respected and beloved American presidents, Abraham Lincoln, came close to saying as much when he described the Civil War as the woe due to those by whom the offense [of slavery] came, and suggested that the conflict might well go on if God wills that it continue, until all the wealth piled by the bond-man’s two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash, shall be paid by another drawn with the sword.⁴ For many years, this original sin was unacknowledged and, even today, because of the scars it left, can be difficult to discuss. But the Christian church has taught for two millennia that healing from sin can only come through acknowledgment of what happened, or confession, if you will. Psychology has essentially told us the same thing for the last century. And for those who are victims, rather than perpetrators, of sin, both religion and psychology prescribe understanding and forgiveness as the only way to move past the trauma and grow to one’s fullest potential.

Learning the truth of what happened in the past is the first step in acknowledging the resulting social dysfunction and psychic scars that still plague us and allowing them to heal. Historians have been working very hard for roughly eight decades to ensure that the story of slavery in the Americas is told. Much of that work, however, was done at the university level and has only within the past thirty years or so begun to make its way from the academy to other institutions of learning such as museums. And it is only now that much of that story is making its way to a mass audience.

What that mass audience, in the form of the roughly 1 million visitors who come to Mount Vernon each year, often wants is an answer to the questions, Was George Washington a good slave owner? or He was good to his slaves, wasn’t he? To anyone looking at this book to provide those answers, let me just say upfront that some of the worst things one thinks about in terms of slavery—whipping, keeping someone in shackles, tracking a person down with dogs, or selling people away from their family—all of those things happened either at Mount Vernon or on other plantations under Washington’s management. The story of this man and the enslaved people who lived at this site is complicated, but it is worth getting to know the real human beings involved, both the one who was our first president and those who knew him through the lens of America’s original sin.

This book is the result of many years of study undertaken as part of my job at Mount Vernon. My interest in the topic, however, began many years before. It was during my early years in elementary school that I first learned about slavery and the legacy of prejudice that still endured, as the nation commemorated the centennial of the war that abolished slavery in the United States, even as the civil rights movement played out each night on the evening news. My interest in history had early been fostered by my father, but it was in graduate school at the University of Virginia that I fell in love with African American history. There I started learning the academic story of slavery, partly through a seminar cotaught by Robert Cross and Steve Innes, and, most importantly, by a course called Slave Systems taught by Joseph Miller. The latter was probably the best class I have ever been privileged to take, and I will always be grateful to Mr. Miller (at Mr. Jefferson’s University everyone, including professors, is addressed as Mr. or Ms., to maintain the ideal of democratic equality) for opening up this new world to me, as well as for the kindness and understanding he showed to all of his students. I came to work at Mount Vernon shortly before receiving my degree from the University of Virginia and immediately faced an interesting situation as no one spoke of slaves—they were servants—and I could see that roughly thirty-five to forty years of historiography were unacknowledged. Things would change at Mount Vernon in the ensuing years, and I am pleased that I have been here to see and be part of that transformation.

This volume began life in 1993 as a series of essays on slave life at Mount Vernon, written as background for a group of incoming interns who would be working on reconstructing George Washington’s sixteen-sided barn and growing appropriate crops in the fields surrounding it, in an area formerly known as Hell Hole but now called the Pioneer Farm site. My supervisor, the estate’s longtime curator Christine Meadows, gave the go-ahead to spend about four months pulling together and making sense of the research I had been doing for several years at that point. In addition to serving as the basis for the interpretation at the Pioneer Farm, the essays were also the foundation for Mount Vernon’s slave life tours, its first-person interpreters who portray specific enslaved individuals, and several museum exhibits.

Since then, I have continued to research this topic while consulting the works of other historians as they became available and responding to comments and suggestions made by colleagues throughout the country. Foremost among those to whom I owe a debt of gratitude is Christine Meadows, who gave a younger colleague the opportunity to put her training to use, studying a much-neglected area of the estate’s history. Second, my thanks to Mount Vernon’s supervisory team, including current president and CEO Curt Viebranz; the founding director of the Fred W. Smith National Library for the Study of George Washington, Doug Bradburn; Mount Vernon’s former executive director James C. Rees; and current senior vice president for historic preservation and collections, Carol Borchert Cadou, for giving me the time to bring this project to fruition. Carol’s predecessor, Linda Ayres, has always been very supportive of my research efforts, and our former head librarian Joan Stahl was a delight as a colleague and a real cheerleader. One memorable evening, our vice president for education Allison Wickens did yeoman’s duty as she oversaw the printing of two copies of the manuscript for the University of Virginia Press on the good copier on the third floor while I sent chapter after chapter to that location from my desk two floors below. When putting the final draft together, one of her staff members, Zerah Jakub Burr, had my back as she stood over me to make sure we got things paginated something close to all right. Samantha Snyder, our able access services librarian, provided additional assistance with the mystery of thumb drives. And, as always, Licensing Director Beverly Addington helped with her very Texas way of looking at the world. John Gibbs, the cataloguer in the library, kept me going with jokes and salt-water taffy. I also have to thank Sandy Newton, formerly the secretary to the regent of the Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association, and Beverly Peterson, one of Mount Vernon’s many volunteers, former school principal, and fellow animal-lover, for their many years of pushing, encouraging, and, yes, nagging me to get this done. I could not have done it without you.

Outside Mount Vernon are other colleagues who deserve thanks as well. First in importance are Scott Casper, the dean of everything at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County, and Jean B. Lee from the history department at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, for reading over earlier drafts and suggesting changes and ways of improving the project. Scott—who has become something of an unofficial member of the Mount Vernon staff—was especially helpful in assisting me to organize what had been standalone essays into what I hope is a more coherent whole. Both Phil Morgan from Johns Hopkins University and Peter Wood, who is retired from Duke, had been heroes of mine for years; their statements that You MUST publish this (from the former) and You ARE publishing this, aren’t you (from the latter) made me terribly happy. Phil was also gracious enough to read the full draft once more in the spring of 2015, when he offered a number of cogent suggestions. Woody Holton, now at the University of South Carolina, was an enthusiastic supporter of this project—so much so that I periodically received messages from him through one of his grad students (when she was working on a fellowship here at Mount Vernon) to finish the f-ing book already. I want to read it. Ira Berlin from the University of Maryland was incredibly helpful many years ago when, learning that I was upset that a couple of other historians were finishing their works on slavery at Mount Vernon ahead of mine, he reminded me that all of us bring to our work our own unique personalities and gifts, which means that, even looking at the same exact sources, we often choose to highlight different aspects of an issue. All of those insights are valuable in learning about the past. In addition, I must not forget Edna Medford of Howard University, for her interest and support over the years. Peter Henriques, now retired from his longtime teaching position at George Mason University, and Lorena Walsh, who spent years doing research for Colonial Williamsburg—years in which she helped to transform our knowledge of the colonial Chesapeake—served as academic readers for my book manuscript. It is so much better for your suggestions.

Lastly, to my dear Tony and several generations of furry ones at home, much love and thanks for your graciousness in dealing with an often obsessed, exhausted, and frazzled historian.

The Only Unavoidable Subject of Regret

Introduction

On January 1, 1795, a Welsh Baptist minister—and committed abolitionist—named Morgan John Rhys wrote down his thoughts shortly after paying a visit to Mount Vernon. George and Martha Washington were not home at the time, because he was then serving his second term as president of the United States, so they were living in the temporary capital, Philadelphia. Less than a month before, Washington had written his farm manager to ensure that it was clearly understood that visitors who fit the category of tourists were welcome during the family’s absence: I have no objection to any sober, & orderly persons gratifying their curiosity in visiting the buildings, Gardens &ca about Mount Vernon.¹ As one of those sober and orderly people, Reverend Rhys enjoyed his visit to the Washingtons’ home, although he could never forget that it was a plantation built and maintained by the labor of people who were enslaved. He wrote of his time there, If Mount Vernon was not the house of bondage to so many men, I would call it a little paradise. The mansion modest. The garden neat, the meandering of the Potomac—distant hills and extensive fields combine to render the prospect delightful and would present a happy retirement for one of the greatest men in the Universe.²

More than two hundred years later, Mount Vernon is one of the most visited historic homes in America, welcoming about 1 million visitors each year (in comparison, Graceland, the home of Elvis Presley, welcomes about 600,000 visitors annually, while 754,407 went to Hearst Castle in fiscal year 2014).³ Washington’s estate is also uniquely situated to introduce the subject of slavery to an international audience. While it is the estate’s connection to George Washington that brings people in, and its proximity to the District of Columbia that makes it easy to get to, once these tourists enter the grounds, they learn that they are on an eighteenth-century plantation that was once home to hundreds of enslaved people, or a house of bondage to . . . many. For many visitors, both American and international, this may well be the only southern plantation they ever have the opportunity to see.

Environmental Setting

Two hundred years ago, Mount Vernon was without a doubt George Washington’s favorite place in the world. His home was located on a hill overlooking the Potomac River, at a spot from which, about a mile distant, he could see the colony and later state of Maryland. Bursting with spawning fish in the spring and wintering ducks and geese later in the year, the river was a major transportation route at a time when unpaved roads made travel by land uncomfortable and fatiguing. The cultivated fields, pastures, and woodlands surrounding the estate provided food and fuel and were home to many wild animals (deer, foxes, raccoons, opossums, rabbits, and squirrels) and birds (quails, pigeons, doves, owls, and eagles). Ships plying the river, bringing cargoes from all over the world, could be seen heading for the nearby seaport towns of Georgetown, sixteen miles to the north; Alexandria, about nine miles in the same direction; or perhaps by the last years of Washington’s life, to the new Federal City, roughly halfway between the other two.

At the end of Washington’s life in 1799, Alexandria, the closest of these cities, was home to 2,748 inhabitants, of whom 2,153 (78.3%) were white, 543 (19.8%) were enslaved, and another 52 (1.9%) were free blacks. An active community, filled with shops selling consumer goods made by local artisans, stores offering imported luxuries, warehouses where agricultural produce headed from Virginia to Europe, and almost three hundred taverns, Alexandria drew people, whether free, indentured, or enslaved, from the surrounding countryside.⁴ Founded during George Washington’s boyhood, there was still a rough quality to the town, even late in his life. In addition to its superb wharves and vast warehouses, visitors wrote about the vast number of houses being built there, providing work for carpenters and masons, as the hammer and trowel were at work everywhere. Others remarked on the unpaved streets, the clay soil of which became so slippery it is almost impossible to walk in them when it rained. One Frenchman commented that there was more luxury to be seen in Alexandria than in Baltimore but qualified the statement by saying that it was a miserable luxury, where it was not unusual to see servants in silk stockings, and their masters in boots.⁵

Another European complained that Alexandria is one of the most wicked places I ever beheld in my life; cock—fighting, horse racing, with every species of gambling and cheating, being apparently the principal business going forward. As evidence for this assertion, he offered, this little place contains no less than between forty and fifty billiard tables. Here is one protestant church, where service is performed once a month; one presbyterian, methodist and roman catholic chapel. And the people were even worse, proud and imperious as possible, and esteem but little such white people as are obliged to labour for a livelihood, all the drudgery being done by their wretched negro slaves.⁶

Perhaps one of the other factors making Alexandria so wicked was the fact that it was also a good place to purchase slaves. In September 1762, for example, the Maryland Gazette announced the upcoming sale in Alexandria of a parcel of very healthy Gambia slaves, who had been Just Imported in a ship called the Royal Charlotte, under the command of Captain Bartholomew Fabre. The two Scottish businessmen advertising the sale were John Kirkpatrick, who had served as George Washington’s military secretary during the French and Indian War, and his brother Thomas.⁷

Growth and Transformation of a Plantation

The land at Mount Vernon had been in Washington’s family since 1674. By his lifetime, small bands of Native Americans still lived in the area, but much of the Algonquian population around Mount Vernon had been wiped out as a result of new diseases brought by European settlers, by conflicts with groups of northern Indians (primarily Susquehannocks and their Iroquois allies), and by warfare with the colonists, including seventeenth-century members of the Washington family.⁸ The Mount Vernon property, then about 2,126 acres, came under George Washington’s control in 1754, when he began renting the estate from the widow of his older half-brother Lawrence who had died two years before. When Lawrence’s widow, Ann Fairfax Washington Lee, died in 1761, Washington inherited the entire Mount Vernon estate. In the next forty-five years, he aggressively purchased land in the neighborhood. At his death in December 1799, the estate totaled eight thousand acres and was home to more than three hundred individuals, living in small clusters on five separate farms.

At the Mansion House Farm, George Washington’s home was surrounded by kitchen, pleasure, and experimental gardens, which provided vegetables, fruits, and herbs for his table, beautiful flowers, and exotic plants sent by correspondents from around the world; stables, where fine horses and mules were bred; a greenhouse filled with tropical plants; and buildings where various trades were carried out, such as blacksmithing, carpentry, coopering (barrel making), food production and preservation, spinning, weaving, and shoemaking. While some crops were grown there, most of the Mansion House Farm was given over to these crafts, as well as woods, meadows, and beautiful vistas. It was on the four outlying quarters—Dogue Run, Muddy Hole, Union (formed from two earlier farms known as Ferry Farm and French’s Farm), and River (earlier called The Neck or Neck Plantation) Farms, located in a radius about 1.5 to 3 miles from the mansion—that crops were raised to support the entire plantation, both by supplying the needs of those living at home and through sales to others.

Like many Virginians of his generation, George Washington started out as a tobacco farmer, raising this New World plant as a cash crop for sale in England and Europe. (By the time the American colonies broke their political ties to the British government, 85 percent of the tobacco grown in those colonies was being resold by British firms to the European mainland.) Money earned from the sale of tobacco to British merchants was used to buy material goods ranging from cloth and furniture to foodstuffs, silver, and tools, which were sent by ship back to the colony. The fact that the system seemed to work so well meant that people put their money into growing tobacco, rather than building a more diversified economy. As historian Bruce A. Ragsdale explains, The predominance of tobacco culture and a plantation system of agriculture impeded the creation of domestic markets, local manufactures, an indigenous commercial class, and a more skilled and flexible labor force. Although indebtedness to the British merchants at the hub of the trading system was something of a given, recessions could slash prices paid to the planters, while the fact that they were still reliant on those same merchants to supply them with manufactured and consumer goods resulted in rapidly increasing debt. By the first year of the American Revolution, per capita debt in the tobacco colonies of Virginia and Maryland was three times higher than the average for all the rest of Britain’s North American colonies.⁹

Fig. 1. Map of the five farms, as drawn by George Washington, 1793, showing the locations (clockwise from bottom center) of Mansion House, Union, Dogue Run, Muddy Hole, and River farms. (Courtesy of the Huntington Library)

Not every planter found himself in debt or was in debt for the same reasons. Through her decades of work on plantation management, historian Lorena S. Walsh uncovered a mix of additional reasons for indebtedness. William Byrd II, for example, was not especially interested in farming or in improving his estates, while his political ambitions led him to waste a good deal of money in England trying to win a government appointment. Others ran into trouble when they used credit to finance the expansion of their lands and labor force, instead of paying cash, and then were unwilling to use profits to pay back their debts. In some families, attempts to set up children with plantations and slaves of their own or, in the case of daughters, with sizeable dowries put strains on the estates of their parents. In many cases, an unwillingness to admit what was happening and to cut expenses also played a factor.¹⁰

Relatively quickly, Washington, like other large planters, could see problems with tobacco as a staple crop. As with the monoculture of any crop, continuous cultivation of tobacco, which was very labor intensive to produce, depleted the soil of nutrients. Reliance on a single crop that was vulnerable to damage resulting from bad weather, disease, or insects left planters in a precarious situation. They were also vulnerable to merchants who might try to take advantage of distance and ignorance to fill their orders for consumer goods with shoddy, overpriced, and potentially out-of-fashion merchandise. For example, in a letter to the firm of Robert Cary & Company written in the summer of 1761, George Washington brought up several complaints. In fulfilling one order, his agent had sent—and charged Washington for—twenty-four whipsaws when he had only asked for two, leading Washington to note that what I shall do with the abundant overplus I really know not as I apprehend it will be a difficult matter to dispose of such a quantity in this part of the Country. This reminded him of another complaint, this time about a piece of furniture, a liquor case, ordered in September 1760:

Another thing occurs which must not escape unnoticed—and that is, A Case bought of Phil Bell at the price of 17 Guineas—Surely, here must be as great a mistake, or as great an Imposition as ever was offer[e]d by a Tradesman. The Case is a plain one, and such as I cou[l]d get made in this Country (where work of all kinds is very dear) of the same stuff, and equally as neat for less than four Guineas—is it possible then that 16 Gall[o]n Bottles with ground Stoppers can cost 13 Guineas? I think I might safely answer No. I wou[l]d have sent it back immediately, but being convinced that there must be some mistake in the Case I have postpon[e]d that resolution till you can made a proper enquiry into it, and advice me thereon.

Washington still was not done. He also groused that Cary and Company’s Corrispondants in Liverpool were a little negligent of your Orders and I am the Sufferer by it—for I have never receiv[e]d any Salt from thence notwithstanding my repeated application’s for these two years past.¹¹ Today, with a grocery store within walking distance for many people, this might not sound like a major complaint, but salt was more than just a condiment on the table. It was absolutely necessary to preserve food, enabling people to eat, and not starve, through each season of the year.

Washington shared another aspect of the colonial tobacco trade with his peers—indebtedness to his English agents. Orders for goods for Mount Vernon averaged more than £300 per year, which, according to some estimates, means that Washington spent the modern equivalent of $2–3 million dollars in a five-year period in the early 1760s. In early 1759, Washington married a young widow, Martha Dandridge Custis, who brought a large fortune to the marriage. Like many newlyweds, the couple poured money into their home and soon found themselves in debt. By 1763, four years after the wedding, the money Washington had acquired through his marriage was gone. The following year he learned that he owed Cary & Company more than £1,800, on which he would be charged 5 percent interest.¹²

By 1765, Washington was looking for a way to change the equation, musing about substituting some other Article in place of Tobacco and inquiring about the sales possibilities for hemp and flax.¹³ As one of the wealthier planters in the colony, Washington could afford the transition to something new, and by the late 1760s, he turned from tobacco to grains, largely wheat and corn. Through the next thirty years, he experimented with different types of manures, various cultivation techniques, and a series of crop rotation schemes in an attempt to find a sustainable agricultural system that would be the best balance of crop yield, income from the sale of those crops, and care of the land itself. His reading of the latest books on agriculture and his correspondence with leading agronomists, both in England and America, provided further encouragement for these innovations.¹⁴ He also diversified his ways of making money, adding a mill so that he could sell flour, as well as profiting by grinding the grain of his neighbors. His fisheries provided food for his own table, fed his slaves, and provided income as preserved fish were sold to others. He increased cloth production on the plantation to reduce reliance on foreign sources of manufacture.¹⁵

Impact of Change

All of the changes George Washington put into place had an impact, not only on the types of work being done on the plantation but also on the people doing that work. While he may have come up with the ideas through his reading and conversations with others, his plans became reality only after they were carried out by others. For instance, late eighteenth-century agronomists encouraged the increased use of animals to pull plows and harrows. When Washington did that at Mount Vernon, it meant that his laborers had to change the way they had been working. Animals had to be trained, and people needed to learn how to handle them. Planting other crops, such as pumpkins, among hills of corn required different techniques than the fieldworkers were accustomed to using. Unlike with grains, those seeds could not be broadcast or thrown but had to be planted individually. A field thus planted would, unlike a field of wheat but much like tobacco, have to be hoed and weeded on a fairly regular basis.

Surviving letters from the late 1780s provide some insight into the problems Washington experienced in trying to introduce new equipment and methods. That year, Arthur Young, one of the foremost proponents of scientific agriculture in England, sent Washington a new type of plow. Washington later wrote Young to say that he was very happy with the plows and found that they answer the description which you gave me of them. He noted, however, that this was contrary to the opinion of almost every one who saw them before they were used, for it was thought their great weight would be an insuperable objection to their being drawn by two Horses.¹⁶ In another letter, Washington mentioned being forced to seek ways to overcome the ill-founded prejudice of his laborers—the slaves—against the new plows.¹⁷

About this same time, Young sent plans for a barnyard, which included a two-story barn with a floor for threshing wheat with flails. Washington had such a barn constructed at Union Farm. Prior to its completion, wheat and other grains were separated from the stalks by threshing outside, a labor-intensive task in which workers beat the stalks with wooden flails. Another method used to accomplish the same purpose was to have draft animals tread out the grain by walking over the stalks in a circle. This latter approach required less human labor, freeing workers for use elsewhere. The problem with both these methods, however, was that by doing the work outside, the grain got dirty and was vulnerable both to theft and the elements. By moving the operation indoors, Washington hoped to prevent spoilage and theft. Unfortunately, the laborers who were supposed to do the threshing indoors were not happy with the new arrangement. Washington complained to a friend in the fall of 1793 that, despite having one of the most convenient Barns in this, or perhaps in any other Country, where 30 hands may with great ease be employed in threshing . . . notwithstanding, when I came home . . . I found a treading yard not 30 feet from the Barn door, the Wheat again brought out of the Barn and horses treading it out in an open exposure liable to the vicissitudes of weather.¹⁸ While it is understandable that the enslaved workers preferred to let horses do this tedious job, what may not be so obvious is that, as Washington originally envisioned the process, working conditions inside the barn would have quickly deteriorated for anyone trying to thresh there, as dust and grain flew up into the air and made breathing difficult. There were probably valid reasons for the slaves’ reluctance to accept this innovation.

Washington was forced to compromise. He was finally able to get what he wanted by constructing an elaborate treading barn on his Dogue Run Farm. In building this new structure, which had sixteen sides and was thus an initial challenge to his brick masons and carpenters, Washington envisioned that the grain would be treaded out on the second floor of the structure using draft animals, and that the kernels would fall through the carefully spaced floorboards into a secure and dry storage area on the first floor. Only one laborer—the person driving the horses—would have been exposed to the dusty working conditions, as opposed to thirty at the earlier barn.¹⁹ In this telling example, Washington was forced to alter his planned improvements so that they were compatible with the preferences of his slaves.

Fig. 2. Nineteenth-century photograph of the original sixteen-sided barn. (Courtesy of the Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association)

Mount Vernon and Slavery

The story of Mount Vernon cannot, therefore, be told properly without also telling the story of the many people who worked on this site. At Mount Vernon, as on so many other plantations in Virginia, those laborers were primarily enslaved. It was through their work that the buildings, including the mansion house, were constructed; crops were planted, cared for, harvested, and taken to market; large schools of fish were taken from the river and preserved for food and sale; and land animals, used for transportation, recreation, food, clothing, and stud, were looked after, and the Washingtons subsequently enriched. Like the Washingtons, the slaves too called this land home, living out their lives, making friends, forming families, raising children, and, like the Washingtons, being buried in its soil.

George Washington was born in 1732 into a world in which slavery was simply a fact of life. The first Africans had arrived in Virginia more than one hundred years earlier, and contrary to long-held beliefs among several generations of historians, new research has shown that most were enslaved from the outset.²⁰ The basic outlines of the legal status of slaves in Virginia were clarified in the 1660s and 1670s, with the passage of legislation stating that whether children born in Virginia were free or enslaved depended on the condition of their mother (1662); that conversion to Christianity and subsequent baptism would not result in freedom for a slave (1667); that masters would have almost total control over how their slaves were disciplined and would not be prosecuted if a slave died while being punished (1669); and that the government would police slaves and owners would be reimbursed for any slaves who were killed while being recaptured (1672).²¹ As noted by historian John C. Coombs, even before the supposedly critical turning points of statutory recognition of slavery in the 1660s and the beginning of direct African deliveries in the mid-1670s, only a handful of blacks in Virginia were held in the capacity as servants. . . . The normative condition for ‘negroes’ was enslavement. And, with few exceptions, that period of enslavement lasted for the lifetime of the individual.²²

Until the 1690s, most slaves had come to Virginia by way of commerce with other English colonies in the Caribbean, rather than directly from Africa. At this time, the Royal Africa Company had a monopoly on the transatlantic slave trade, but that advantage was challenged at the turn of the eighteenth century. Once the market was opened to others, there were dramatic changes. In the words of historian William A. Pettigrew, the company’s demise increased the number of Africans transported, which Africans were enslaved, where they went, and who transported them. He likewise noted that a free trade in slaves also provided the mainland American colonies with an adequate supply of slaves for the first time.²³

Statistics on the number of slaves arriving in the Chesapeake region reinforce this picture, with the trade showing relatively slow growth up until the last quarter of the seventeenth century: 100 people from 1626 to 1650 versus 2,900 from 1651 to 1675. The trade more than tripled between 1675 and 1700, with the importation of 9,200 slaves, and then exploded in the eighteenth century: 30,000 people from 1701 to 1725; 54,000 from 1726 to 1750; and 31,000 from 1751 to 1775. Following the start of the American Revolution, the numbers dropped dramatically: in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, only 500 slaves came into Virginia from overseas.²⁴

The rapid increase in the number of slaves being imported to the Chesapeake in the eighteenth century can also be seen in the greater Mount Vernon neighborhood. When George Washington began cultivating the land there in 1754, the population of the surrounding county, known as Fairfax, was about 6,500 of whom a little more than 1,800, or about 28 percent, were slaves of African origin. The proportion of slaves in the population as a whole rose throughout the century; by the end of the American Revolution, over 40 percent of the people in Fairfax County were enslaved.²⁵

The story of the Washington family in America began in the mid-1650s, when two young men, John and Lawrence Washington, arrived in Virginia. Their family had been loyal to the deposed king, Charles I, during the English Civil War, and the brothers saw little future for themselves in England as long as Oliver Cromwell and Parliament were in control of the government. Thus, they set out to make their fortunes in the colonies. Both quickly established themselves, volunteering for public service and marrying well as stepping-stones to advancement. Although there is earlier evidence that the family owned slaves in the seventeenth century, the first specific mention of slaves in the family wills came with the death of John Washington’s grandson Augustine, who died in 1743 leaving land and slaves to his widow and children. One of those children, the eldest son of his second marriage, was George Washington, who was due to inherit the 280-acre farm near Fredericksburg, Virginia, upon which the family was then living, and ten negro Slaves from his father.²⁶

By this time, the family was ensconced in the wealthiest 10 percent of the Virginia population and were considered part of the second tier of the Virginia aristocracy, having little prominence or influence outside their home county.²⁷ George Washington’s earliest biographer, his former military aide David Humphreys, voiced the opinion many years later that the children of opulent families in Virginia were in danger of becoming indolent & helpless from the usual indulgence [of] giving a horse & a servant to attend them, as soon as they could ride; if not imperious & dissipated from the habit of commanding slaves & living in a measure without control. Humphreys believed that those Virginians who were educated in the colony rather than England, who had fortitude enough to resist the temptations to which they were exposed in their youth, have commonly been distinguished by success in their various professions. He then indicated that there were many Virginians, besides [Washington] who were the most remarkable examples of application & perseverance, which this age has produced.²⁸ The fact that Washington chose not to comment on these statements when he did suggest corrections to or clarification of other passages from the draft indicates that he largely agreed with Humphreys.

It would be several years before George Washington actually took possession of the slaves in his father’s bequest. About 1750, the division of Augustine Washington’s slaves was finally made, perhaps brought on by the fact that eighteen-year-old George had made his first land purchase with money earned from surveying. There had been some natural increase among the family’s slaves in the ensuing seven years, so the young man actually acquired eleven slaves, valued at £202.10.0. (For Washington’s acquisition of slaves, see table 1.)²⁹ The death of George Washington’s older half-brother, Lawrence, in 1752 brought another group of slaves in two parts: the first included four adults and two children in 1754, while the second was made up of three adults and two children in 1762.³⁰

As a young adult, George Washington purchased several additional slaves, but it was after his marriage to Martha Dandridge Custis in January 1759 that Washington’s overall wealth—and his slaveholdings—increased dramatically.³¹ His young bride was the widow of a wealthy planter, Daniel Parke Custis, whose multiple plantations were located over one hundred miles south of Mount Vernon, in six counties along the York River and on the Eastern Shore of Virginia. Like George Washington, Custis was a fourth-generation Virginian, but his family was much wealthier and had fewer children than the Washingtons; by the time of his father’s death in 1749, Daniel was the sole surviving heir, his sister having died five years before. He was a good businessman who specialized in growing high-quality tobacco for the British market. The solid reputation of his product was the result of personally supervising such factors as seed selection, the sorting and packing of the crop, and being responsive to problems noted by his customers. The income from exported tobacco was supplemented by the production of grains (corn, wheat, oats) for sale locally and in the West Indies, as well as sales of livestock and related products (meat, butter, and wool), and income from the operation of three gristmills and a commercial fishery. Unlike many other planters, whose families were newer to Virginia, Custis inherited so many slaves that he had no need to purchase more, saving him a considerable amount of money. Many of the Custis slaves had been born in Virginia, and as a result of fairly balanced sex ratios on his older properties, the enslaved population on his estates grew rapidly through natural increase, rather than purchase. Fearing debt, Custis was careful with his money, and while he avoided borrowing for himself, he made additional income by lending to neighboring plantation owners. Historian Lorena Walsh notes that few other Chesapeake planters had the capital, fiscal discipline, and financial expertise to benefit from a similarly distributed asset portfolio. Her examination of the plantation financial records for 1757–59 shows that those plantations were doing very well: while expenditures totaled £1,934.94 in those years, overall income came to £4,581.15.³²

Daniel Custis died suddenly in the summer of 1757 at the age of forty-six. As careful as he was with money, he had not drawn up a will, a fact that would have serious ramifications for both his family and those they enslaved for decades to come. This unexpected death left his twenty-six-year-old widow with two very young children to raise alone, as well as the management of over seventeen thousand acres of land and almost three hundred slaves. Her dower share of the Custis estate brought her a life interest in one-third of her late husband’s property, including eighty-four slaves: one man and five women who worked in the house; the child of one of those women; five male tradesmen; thirteen slaves on a Custis quarter in New Kent County, Virginia; twenty-four slaves in York County; twenty-one in King William County; and fourteen in Hanover County. Of these people, at least the six described as house servants, the child, and the tradesmen appear to have accompanied their mistress to her new home at Mount Vernon shortly after the marriage. Still others were brought up to Mount Vernon later (for example, twenty-two came north from the Custis plantations in 1770).³³

Perhaps a couple of points about legal issues would be helpful at this point. According to eighteenth-century English laws of coverture, an unmarried woman or widow could own and convey property, make a valid contract, sue or be sued, execute a deed, and make a will. Although not always true in practice, in theory a married woman could do none of these things without her husband’s consent or participation.³⁴ The important thing to remember about dower property is that neither the widow nor any subsequent husband she might marry actually owned it. Ordinarily, because married women could not own property, a remarriage would mean that the new husband automatically took possession of any property (land, slaves, or whatever) that the widow brought to the marriage. Because the widow of a man who died without a will only had a life interest in one-third of his property, she did not own it but could only manage it as long as she remained a widow. If she remarried, her new husband would not own the dower property either, but he would take over management of it. The owner was the estate of the first husband and eventually his heirs.³⁵

In addition to the enslaved people from the Custis estate, during the twenty-one years prior to the start of the Revolution, George Washington purchased more than sixty slaves.³⁶ At least some of the African-born slaves were acquired directly from slave ships, which landed their human cargos on the Maryland side of the Potomac River. Washington, like many other Virginians in the area, took advantage of the fact that a substantially higher duty was charged on newly imported Africans in Virginia, a fee that was paid by the purchaser rather than the importer, and was applied to the sales price, which varied depending on the value of an individual slave. In contrast, there were a number of years when the duty in Maryland was as much as 15 percent less than that exacted by Virginia, made even better by the fact that it was applied per head, without regard to factors that influenced purchase price. The fact that Virginia required no duties for slaves imported from another colony for a person’s own use made going across the border to acquire slaves particularly tempting. In at least one or two instances, Washington’s friend Alexandria merchant John Carlyle purchased newly imported Africans for him in Maryland, leading historian Donald M. Sweig to point out the questionable nature of the transaction: That Washington was not actually transporting the slaves himself and that Carlyle was not importing them for his own use, both legal requirements for duty-free importation, seems to have been overlooked or ignored.³⁷

In addition to these people, an unknown number of enslaved people belonging to members of George and Martha Washington’s extended families were also at Mount Vernon for varying lengths of time. For example, when Martha Washington headed to Valley Forge in the early months of 1778, one of the slaves accompanying her was a young man named Tom, who belonged to cousin Lund Washington but was then riding as a postill[i]on for Mrs. Washington.³⁸ Almost a decade later, on January 12, 1787, George Washington recorded in his diary that his nephew and farm manager, George Augustine Washington, set off after dinner for New Kent County, Virginia, in order to receive & bring up some Negroes which his Wife’s Father Colo. Bassett had given him.³⁹ Following George Augustine’s death, two of his carpenters, Gabriel and Reuben, were still working on projects with both hired and indentured carpenters at Mount Vernon, although his uncle intended to pay for their time.⁴⁰ Washington ordered his farm manager to guard against two other slaves from that family, Charles and an unnamed young man working in the stable, because he believed they were impudent & self willed, & care not how extravagantly they feed, or even waste, citing one instance in which the younger fellow had used hay, rather than straw, as bedding for one horse.⁴¹ Altogether, historians Philip D. Morgan and Michael L. Nicholls estimate that Washington owned and/or managed about 670 slaves during the course of his lifetime (see tables 2–4).⁴²

The men, women, and children who made up this first generation of enslaved residents during George Washington’s proprietorship of Mount Vernon included a mix of peoples, with varying degrees of acculturation to the dominant English culture. Some were newly arrived Africans coming either directly from that continent or after being put aboard another vessel in the West Indies. Although it is unlikely, a few others may have come after years of enslavement in the West Indies or Caribbean, whether they had been born there or in Africa.⁴³ Another group had been born on other plantations in Virginia, as the second or third generation of their families in America, and had only known life as slaves.

Africans in Virginia

From the arrival of the first Africans at Jamestown in 1619 through the beginning of the American Revolution, which includes the years when Washington was building up his workforce, over 95 percent of enslaved people were coming into Virginia on ships primarily originating in the British ports of Bristol (45.6%), London (32.0%), and Liverpool (18.0%), with the rest hailing from elsewhere in England, Barbados, and America (Virginia, Maryland, Rhode Island, Philadelphia, and Boston).⁴⁴ Analysis of Atlantic slave trade voyages during this same period shows that the largest number came into the Chesapeake from the Bight of Biafra, also known as the Bight of Bonny (58,000 people from what are now eastern Nigeria, Cameroon, Equatorial Guinea, and northern Gabon), followed, in descending order, by Senegambia (39,000; today Guinea-Bissau, Gambia, and Senegal), West Central Africa (26,000; modern Gabon, Republic of the Congo, Democratic Republic of the Congo, and Angola), the Gold Coast (18,000; modern Ghana), the Windward Coast (5,500; now Liberia and Côte d’Ivoire), Sierra Leone (4,500; today Guinea-Bissau, Sierra Leone, and western Liberia), and the Bight of Benin (4,000; now eastern Ghana, Togo, Benin, and western Nigeria), with another 2,900 coming from the island of Madagascar off the coast of East Africa.⁴⁵ The cargoes of newly enslaved people who were shipped to the Americas from ports in West Africa were typically made up of clusters from the same ethnic groups, rather than individuals from disparate backgrounds speaking a variety of languages. Often they had been captured hundreds of miles inland before being brought to ships waiting on the coast.⁴⁶ This makes it difficult, without additional information such as records listing their tribal connections or their original names, to precisely determine their ethnic backgrounds. According to one historian, the lack of valid, direct evidence [of ethnicity] from the British mainland colonies is a result of the scant attention paid to African ethnicities in English-language documents.⁴⁷

Regardless of precisely where they began their lives, Washington’s African-born slaves stood out from others who were born in North America. One aspect of this difference was simply physical. Four men who ran away from Mount Vernon in August 1761 were described in a runaway advertisement as Africans. Two had been purchased directly from the ship carrying them from their homeland two years before, while the other two had lived for some time in Virginia (one in Williamsburg and King George County and the other in Middlesex) before they came into the possession of George Washington. Two of the four are described as having tribal cuts on their faces, filed teeth, and/or decorative scarring on their backs.⁴⁸ Another African-born slave, a carpenter named Sambo Anderson, was described as having gold earrings and a face with high cheek bones, embellished with tattooing and tribal scars.⁴⁹ Anderson was one of at least two slaves at Mount Vernon—as an elderly man, the other was known as Father Jack—who claimed to have come from royal families in their homelands. From the experiences of other people in the Chesapeake, we know that slaves with similar claims to royal backgrounds sometimes looked down on fellow slaves, a reaction that might have made it difficult to form new relationships and become part of a community.⁵⁰

The fact that Anderson continued to be called by his original name, a very common one in West Africa even today, is intriguing.⁵¹ People from this part of the world are often named for either the day of the week on which they were born or for their birth order within their family. Sambo is a name used among two largely Muslim groups: the Hausa people in what is now northwestern Nigeria and southern Niger, and the Fulani or Fulbe, who are mainly in the eastern parts of Guinea and Senegal. Signifying a second son, the name can also be found among other ethnic groups in this part of Africa.⁵² Historian Ira Berlin has noted that it was typical in eighteenth-century Virginia to provide African-born slaves with English or classical names, taking care, as one planter recorded, that they always go by ye names we gave them, as a way of stripping the newly arrived Africans of their identity and inheritance.⁵³ Insisting on the use of his African name so that he did not become just another of the many men called Sam was also a way for Anderson to resist his enslavement.

For many decades, historians have vehemently debated the degree to which African traditions and customs survived in the Americas. Writing fourteen years after World War II, Stanley M. Elkins, for example, saw evidence for very little cultural transfer from Africa. He wrote of the work of anthropologist Melville Herskovits that, despite much dedicated field work . . . [Herskovits] has been put to great effort to prove that in North American Negro society any African cultural vestiges have survived at all. Using psychological studies of concentration camp survivors and military prisoners of war, Elkins argued that the repeated series of shocks to which newly enslaved people were subjected—things like capture, separation from loved ones, long journeys to an African port, travel across the ocean, severe regimentation, exposure to the elements and squalid conditions, being stripped of one’s name and social position, and harsh or violent treatment—resulted in such extreme trauma that, for a survivor, nearly every prior connection had been severed. Not that he had really ‘forgotten’ all these things . . . but none of it any longer carried much meaning. The old values, the sanctions, the standards, already unreal, could no longer furnish him guides for conduct, for adjusting to the expectation of a complete new life. Through what is now known as Stockholm Syndrome, Elkins believed that the slave, like a hostage, came to see his master as a kind of good father figure.⁵⁴

Almost fifty years later, historian Philip Morgan explained that African traditions certainly survived in North America but in slightly different ways depending on local conditions. He noted that during the last half of the seventeenth century, many of the earliest blacks in both the Chesapeake and the Lowcountry assumed the customs and attitudes of their white neighbors and acquaintances. They were followed by later waves of unwilling African immigrants who faced a double challenge, of adjusting not only to new surroundings but to the rules and customs already worked out by the earliest [African] migrants. In the Carolina Lowcountry, however, the sheer numbers of these newcomers meant that the earlier assimilationist slave culture . . . was swept aside by a rising tide of African slaves. The nature of slavery there, which featured a denser population of slaves on plantations, where they had a combination of more autonomy and freedom of both time and movement than elsewhere in British North America, meant that African cultural elements could thrive. This was in decided contrast to the situation in the Chesapeake, where the earlier assimilationist slave culture had taken much firmer root. When large numbers of new Africans began arriving in Virginia and Maryland in the late seventeenth century, they were too widely scattered and isolated to maintain as many of the traditions from their homelands as the enslaved people in the Lowcountry.⁵⁵

More recently, Michael A. Gomez has found numerous examples of the continuation of African culture in British North America, which is understandable given figures showing that, over the course of George Washington’s lifetime, the number of African-born slaves compared to those born in America ranged from a bit less than half (about four out of ten) when he was born to about 20 percent (two out of ten) in the year he died. These cultural survivals even existed in New England, where slaves made up only 2–3 percent of the overall population in the first half of the eighteenth century, but the fact that they tended to be concentrated or clustered in