dynamicafrica:

theatlantic:

How Cuban Villagers Learned They Descended From Sierra Leone Slaves*

They were adamant about going all out. People who sing the village’s songs—melodies and rhythms that tie them to this inaccessible chiefdom — are considered family. “Our grandparents who told us the stories about our people going as slaves, we know now that they didn’t lie,” says Joe Allie, an elder of the village and Pokawa’s uncle.
“These must be our people,” says Solomon Musa, a young man who works as a teacher in the village, “when we saw the people who practice the same things we used to do, we were so happy, we are full of joy.”
Read more. [Image: They Are We]


*Sierra Leonean enslaved peoples.

dynamicafrica:

theatlantic:

How Cuban Villagers Learned They Descended From Sierra Leone Slaves*

They were adamant about going all out. People who sing the village’s songs—melodies and rhythms that tie them to this inaccessible chiefdom — are considered family. “Our grandparents who told us the stories about our people going as slaves, we know now that they didn’t lie,” says Joe Allie, an elder of the village and Pokawa’s uncle.

“These must be our people,” says Solomon Musa, a young man who works as a teacher in the village, “when we saw the people who practice the same things we used to do, we were so happy, we are full of joy.”

Read more. [Image: They Are We]

*Sierra Leonean enslaved peoples.

Receipt for the purchase of a slave named ‘Davy’, September 28, 1850.
Davy was sold by M. Kelly of Richmond, Virginia to John Finlayson of Jefferson County, Florida for $765.
State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory

Receipt for the purchase of a slave named ‘Davy’, September 28, 1850.

Davy was sold by M. Kelly of Richmond, Virginia to John Finlayson of Jefferson County, Florida for $765.

State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory

Without slavery, however, the survey maps of the General Land Office would have remained a sort of science-fiction plan for a society that could never happen. Between 1820 and 1860 more than a million enslaved people were transported from the upper to the lower South, the vast majority by the venture-capitalist slave traders the slaves called “soul drivers.” The first wave cleared the region for cultivation. “Forests were literally dragged out by the roots,” the former slave John Parker remembered in “His Promised Land.” Those who followed planted the fields in cotton, which they then protected, picked, packed and shipped — from “sunup to sundown” every day for the rest of their lives.

Eighty-five percent of the cotton Southern slaves picked was shipped to Britain. The mills that have come to symbolize the Industrial Revolution and the slave-tilled fields of the South were mutually dependent. Every year, British merchant banks advanced millions of pounds to American planters in anticipation of the sale of the cotton crop. Planters then traded credit in pounds for the goods they needed to get through the year, many of them produced in the North. “From the rattle with which the nurse tickles the ear of the child born in the South, to the shroud that covers the cold form of the dead, everything comes to us from the North,” said one Southerner.

As slaveholders supplied themselves (and, much more meanly, their slaves) with Northern goods, the credit originally advanced against cotton made its way north, into the hands of New York and New England merchants who used it to purchase British goods. Thus were Indian land, African-American labor, Atlantic finance and British industry synthesized into racial domination, profit and economic development on a national and a global scale.

When the cotton crop came in short and sales failed to meet advanced payments, planters found themselves indebted to merchants and bankers. Slaves were sold to make up the difference. The mobility and salability of slaves meant they functioned as the primary form of collateral in the credit-and-cotton economy of the 19th century.

It is not simply that the labor of enslaved people underwrote 19th-century capitalism. Enslaved people were the capital: four million people worth at least $3 billion in 1860, which was more than all the capital invested in railroads and factories in the United States combined. Seen in this light, the conventional distinction between slavery and capitalism fades into meaninglessness.

We are accustomed to reckoning the legacy of slavery in the United States in terms of black disadvantage. The centrality of slavery to the nation’s economic development, however, suggests that any calculation of the nation’s unpaid debt for slavery must include a measure of the wealth it produced, of advantage as well as disadvantage. The United States, as W. E. B. Du Bois wrote, was “built upon a groan.”

(Source: azspot)

Advertisement for a fugitive slave, Maryland, 19th century. Chicago Historical Society. Accessed in: The Atlantic Slave Trade and Slave Life in the Americas: A Visual Record

Advertisement for a fugitive slave, Maryland, 19th century. Chicago Historical Society. Accessed in: The Atlantic Slave Trade and Slave Life in the Americas: A Visual Record

“She set about getting slaves any way she could, but her usual method was to buy children.”

“Aunt” Eliza a Slaveholder
Cleveland Gazette, Vol. 9, Issue 10; October 17, 1891
via ohiohistory.org / The African American Experience in Ohio, 1850-1920

“She set about getting slaves any way she could, but her usual method was to buy children.”

“Aunt” Eliza a Slaveholder

Cleveland Gazette, Vol. 9, Issue 10; October 17, 1891

via ohiohistory.org / The African American Experience in Ohio, 1850-1920

Portrait of former slave, Henry Robinson, ca. 1937
Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Collections
Forms part of: Portraits of African American ex-slaves from the U.S. Works Progress Administration, Federal Writers’ Project slave narratives collections.

Portrait of former slave, Henry Robinson, ca. 1937

Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Collections

Forms part of: Portraits of African American ex-slaves from the U.S. Works Progress Administration, Federal Writers’ Project slave narratives collections.

An 1851 poster warning blacks Bostonians about kidnappers and slave catchers. The poster was created in response to the Fugitive Slave Law of 1850.
Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, Photographs and Prints Division

An 1851 poster warning blacks Bostonians about kidnappers and slave catchers. The poster was created in response to the Fugitive Slave Law of 1850.

Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, Photographs and Prints Division

soulbrotherv2:

Women’s Slave Narratives by Annie L. Burton and Others

Unflinching accounts of slavery in the antebellum American South are presented in moving testimonies of five African-American women. Covering a wide range of narrative styles, the voices provide authentic recollections of hardship, frustration, and hope — from Mary Prince’s groundbreaking account of a lone woman’s tribulations and courage to Annie Burton’s eulogy to motherhood.

soulbrotherv2:

Women’s Slave Narratives by Annie L. Burton and Others

Unflinching accounts of slavery in the antebellum American South are presented in moving testimonies of five African-American women. Covering a wide range of narrative styles, the voices provide authentic recollections of hardship, frustration, and hope — from Mary Prince’s groundbreaking account of a lone woman’s tribulations and courage to Annie Burton’s eulogy to motherhood.

Enslaved East African people rescued by the British naval ship, HMS Daphne, 1869.
The National Archives UK, reference: FO 84/1310
All these little children…
[Note: Burned Shoes posted this photo in 2011 with some additional information. Click here to read more. (Thanks to Burned Shoes!)]

Enslaved East African people rescued by the British naval ship, HMS Daphne, 1869.

The National Archives UK, reference: FO 84/1310

All these little children…

[Note: Burned Shoes posted this photo in 2011 with some additional information. Click here to read more. (Thanks to Burned Shoes!)]

Abaché and Cudjoe Kazoola Lewis at Africatown in the 1910s.
Mr. Lewis, who came to America aboard the Clotilde, is believed to be the last person born on African soil to have been enslaved in the United States.
Source: Emma Langdon Roche, Historic Sketches of the South (New York: The Knickerbocker Press, 1914)

Abaché and Cudjoe Kazoola Lewis at Africatown in the 1910s.

Mr. Lewis, who came to America aboard the Clotilde, is believed to be the last person born on African soil to have been enslaved in the United States.

Source: Emma Langdon Roche, Historic Sketches of the South (New York: The Knickerbocker Press, 1914)

Vessel License for the Schooner Clotilde, 1855
The Clotilde, commanded by Captain William Foster, landed in Mobile, Alabama in 1859 carrying between 110 and 160 West African captives. To evade federal authorities waiting at the port, Foster docked at night and transferred the human cargo to a waiting riverboat. Afterward, the captain had the ship burned and sunk. The enslaved Africans were sold to the owner of a nearby plantation.
The Clotilde was the last known ship to illegally bring slaves to America. Descendants of these Africans still live in the area around Mobile known as Africatown.
Image: The National Archives, Southeast Region; records of the U.S. Customs Services, Collector of Customs, Mobile, Alabama

Vessel License for the Schooner Clotilde, 1855

The Clotilde, commanded by Captain William Foster, landed in Mobile, Alabama in 1859 carrying between 110 and 160 West African captives. To evade federal authorities waiting at the port, Foster docked at night and transferred the human cargo to a waiting riverboat. Afterward, the captain had the ship burned and sunk. The enslaved Africans were sold to the owner of a nearby plantation.

The Clotilde was the last known ship to illegally bring slaves to America. Descendants of these Africans still live in the area around Mobile known as Africatown.

Image: The National Archives, Southeast Region; records of the U.S. Customs Services, Collector of Customs, Mobile, Alabama

Silver slave brand, ca. 1800
Middleton A. “Spike” Harris papers, 1929-1977.
NY Public Library Digital Gallery

Silver slave brand, ca. 1800

Middleton A. “Spike” Harris papers, 1929-1977.

NY Public Library Digital Gallery

Beaufort, South Carolina. Group of men, women and children on J.J. Smith’s plantation, 1862
Timothy H. O’Sullivan, photographer
Civil War glass negative collection, Library of Congress
When President Abraham Lincoln issued his preliminary Emancipation Proclamation in 1862, the men, women and children on J.J. Smith’s cotton plantation were among the first slaves to be liberated.

Beaufort, South Carolina. Group of men, women and children on J.J. Smith’s plantation, 1862

Timothy H. O’Sullivan, photographer

Civil War glass negative collection, Library of Congress

When President Abraham Lincoln issued his preliminary Emancipation Proclamation in 1862, the men, women and children on J.J. Smith’s cotton plantation were among the first slaves to be liberated.

“I was born March 23, 1850 in Kentucky, somewhere near Louisville. I am goin’ on 88 years right now. (1937). I was brought to Missouri when I was six months old, along with my mama, who was a slave owned by a man named Shaw, who had allotted her to a man named Jimmie Graves, who came to Missouri to live with his daughter Emily Graves Crowdes. I always lived with Emily Crowdes.”
The matter of allotment was confusing to the interviewer and Aunt Sally endeavored to explain.
“Yes’m. Allotted? Yes’m. I’m goin’ to explain that, ” she replied. “You see there was slave traders in those days, jes’ like you got horse and mule an’ auto traders now. They bought and sold slaves and hired ‘em out. Yes’m, rented ‘em out. Allotted means somethin’ like hired out. But the slave never got no wages. That all went to the master. The man they was allotted to paid the master.”
“I was never sold. My mama was sold only once, but she was hired out many times. Yes’m when a slave was allotted, somebody made a down payment and gave a mortgage for the rest. A chattel mortgage… .”
“Allotments made a lot of grief for the slaves,” Aunt Sally asserted. “We left my papa in Kentucky, ‘cause he was allotted to another man. My papa never knew where my mama went, an’ my mama never knew where papa went.” Aunt Sally paused a moment, then went on bitterly. “They never wanted mama to know, ‘cause they knowed she would never marry so long she knew where he was. Our master wanted her to marry again and raise more children to be slaves. They never wanted mama to know where papa was, an’ she never did,” sighed Aunt Sally.
Sarah Frances Shaw Graves, Age 87
Born in Slavery: Slave Narratives from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936-1938
Library of Congress, Digital ID mesnp 100126

“I was born March 23, 1850 in Kentucky, somewhere near Louisville. I am goin’ on 88 years right now. (1937). I was brought to Missouri when I was six months old, along with my mama, who was a slave owned by a man named Shaw, who had allotted her to a man named Jimmie Graves, who came to Missouri to live with his daughter Emily Graves Crowdes. I always lived with Emily Crowdes.”

The matter of allotment was confusing to the interviewer and Aunt Sally endeavored to explain.

“Yes’m. Allotted? Yes’m. I’m goin’ to explain that, ” she replied. “You see there was slave traders in those days, jes’ like you got horse and mule an’ auto traders now. They bought and sold slaves and hired ‘em out. Yes’m, rented ‘em out. Allotted means somethin’ like hired out. But the slave never got no wages. That all went to the master. The man they was allotted to paid the master.”

“I was never sold. My mama was sold only once, but she was hired out many times. Yes’m when a slave was allotted, somebody made a down payment and gave a mortgage for the rest. A chattel mortgage… .”

“Allotments made a lot of grief for the slaves,” Aunt Sally asserted. “We left my papa in Kentucky, ‘cause he was allotted to another man. My papa never knew where my mama went, an’ my mama never knew where papa went.” Aunt Sally paused a moment, then went on bitterly. “They never wanted mama to know, ‘cause they knowed she would never marry so long she knew where he was. Our master wanted her to marry again and raise more children to be slaves. They never wanted mama to know where papa was, an’ she never did,” sighed Aunt Sally.

Sarah Frances Shaw Graves, Age 87

Born in Slavery: Slave Narratives from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936-1938

Library of Congress, Digital ID mesnp 100126

Charlestown, Virginia, 1835 (located in present-day West Virginia)
Library of Congress, American Memory

Charlestown, Virginia, 1835 (located in present-day West Virginia)

Library of Congress, American Memory