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Joab Binney
Though Joab Binney is one of the most well-documented people who was enslaved in Northampton, little is known of his early life. He was probably born sometime between 1710 and 1730. Dr. Stephen West, a minister who profiled Binney’s wife Rose, wrote that Binney was born in Africa, in the same territory as Rose (West did not name that territory.) At some point after he was enslaved and taken from his home, he came to Northampton. Here, he was enslaved by Jonathan Hunt III. It is also possible that he was previously enslaved by a female member of the Strong family. It is probable that he was the only enslaved person in Hunt’s household at this time, though Hunt would later enslave a second man, Amos Hull.
Slavery in Northampton
While enslaved in Northampton, Joab began a relationship with Rose, the enslaved woman he would eventually marry and be with for the rest of his life. The Hunts were a well-to-do family in Northampton, but Rose was enslaved by a man who was famous on a national scale: Jonathan Edwards, the town minister and leader of the First Great Awakening. There is a record of a baptism for an enslaved person named Joab (see entry for Joab) at this time, and if this referred to Joab Binney, then he would have been regularly at church services confronted with the person who enslaved his partner. West remembered that Joab was a pious man, suggesting that, whether or not the Joab record referred to him, at some point Binney did convert to Christianity.
According to one account, Edwards’ political situation facilitated a defining moment in Joab’s life. In the late 1740s and early 1750s the relationship between Northampton and Edwards soured, and the town voted to dismiss him in 1750, whereupon he moved to Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Electa Jones (herself a descendant of the Hunt family that enslaved Joab), wrote in her history of Stockbridge that Jonathan Hunt III was particularly angry with Edwards, and unhappy about the fact that, since the Binneys were already romantically involved, Edwards’ household would have a tie back to Northampton from Stockbridge. Jones recounts that Hunt gave Binney his freedom so that he could follow Rose Binney to Stockbridge, and Hunt would be rid of all connections to the Edwards family forever. This story could be true, but there are some holes in it. The idea that Edwards himself would come back to Northampton so that the Binneys could visit is very unlikely, and Hunt would not actually have been ridding himself of Northampton’s strongest connection to Edwards: one of Edwards’ daughters, Mary Edwards Dwight, who still lived in town. Whether or not the story is true, Joab was free in 1751, and when Jonathan Edwards left Northampton for Stockbridge, taking Rose with him, Joab followed her.
It is possible that Hunt freed Binney for some other reason. However, it is also possible that Binney bought his own freedom, and a story that cast the Hunts in a more positive light was passed down to Jones. There is some evidence to suggest that Joab may have had the means to purchase his freedom. By the time he was in Stockbridge, Joab was employed in one, if not two, skilled trades (tanning and blacksmithing). He may have learned these trades in Northampton. His connection to tanning is particularly interesting, since it suggests a connection to the Strong family, as implied by the baptismal record. The Strong family were tanners in Northampton and had a plot of land next to Jonathan Hunt III.
If Joab was skilled in two trades in Northampton, he would have offered an alternate revenue stream for Hunt: he could be hired out to practice these skills. In some cases, enslaved people who were hired out were able to keep a very small percentage of their wages, which he could have saved to buy his freedom. It is unlikely, however, that he claimed his freedom by escaping from Hunt. If he was following Rose, he ran the risk that Edwards would return him to Hunt.
The year 1751 marked another milestone for Joab. After he got to Stockbridge, he and Rose were married. Some accounts say that Edwards performed the ceremony. When Edwards departed Stockbridge for a post at Princeton, New Jersey, he did not bring Rose with him, suggesting that by this point she was a free woman. Whether Edwards voluntarily gave her her freedom or Joab and Rose purchased it is unknown.
In Stockbridge, Joab embarked on the life of a free landowner. He worked as a tanner, possibly also doing blacksmith work. Though he appears to have been successful in business, he and Rose had a series of personal tragedies. Between 1761 and 1771, they had five daughters, four of whom died in infancy. We only know the name of the daughter who survived to adulthood: Tamar.
According to one account, Edwards’ political situation facilitated a defining moment in Joab’s life. In the late 1740s and early 1750s the relationship between Northampton and Edwards soured, and the town voted to dismiss him in 1750, whereupon he moved to Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Electa Jones (herself a descendant of the Hunt family that enslaved Joab), wrote in her history of Stockbridge that Jonathan Hunt III was particularly angry with Edwards, and unhappy about the fact that, since the Binneys were already romantically involved, Edwards’ household would have a tie back to Northampton from Stockbridge. Jones recounts that Hunt gave Binney his freedom so that he could follow Rose Binney to Stockbridge, and Hunt would be rid of all connections to the Edwards family forever. This story could be true, but there are some holes in it. The idea that Edwards himself would come back to Northampton so that the Binneys could visit is very unlikely, and Hunt would not actually have been ridding himself of Northampton’s strongest connection to Edwards: one of Edwards’ daughters, Mary Edwards Dwight, who still lived in town. Whether or not the story is true, Joab was free in 1751, and when Jonathan Edwards left Northampton for Stockbridge, taking Rose with him, Joab followed her.
It is possible that Hunt freed Binney for some other reason. However, it is also possible that Binney bought his own freedom, and a story that cast the Hunts in a more positive light was passed down to Jones. There is some evidence to suggest that Joab may have had the means to purchase his freedom. By the time he was in Stockbridge, Joab was employed in one, if not two, skilled trades (tanning and blacksmithing). He may have learned these trades in Northampton. His connection to tanning is particularly interesting, since it suggests a connection to the Strong family, as implied by the baptismal record. The Strong family were tanners in Northampton and had a plot of land next to Jonathan Hunt III.
If Joab was skilled in two trades in Northampton, he would have offered an alternate revenue stream for Hunt: he could be hired out to practice these skills. In some cases, enslaved people who were hired out were able to keep a very small percentage of their wages, which he could have saved to buy his freedom. It is unlikely, however, that he claimed his freedom by escaping from Hunt. If he was following Rose, he ran the risk that Edwards would return him to Hunt.
The year 1751 marked another milestone for Joab. After he got to Stockbridge, he and Rose were married. Some accounts say that Edwards performed the ceremony. When Edwards departed Stockbridge for a post at Princeton, New Jersey, he did not bring Rose with him, suggesting that by this point she was a free woman. Whether Edwards voluntarily gave her her freedom or Joab and Rose purchased it is unknown.
In Stockbridge, Joab embarked on the life of a free landowner. He worked as a tanner, possibly also doing blacksmith work. Though he appears to have been successful in business, he and Rose had a series of personal tragedies. Between 1761 and 1771, they had five daughters, four of whom died in infancy. We only know the name of the daughter who survived to adulthood: Tamar.
Fostering Agrippa Hull
The Binneys took in another former Northampton resident: Agrippa Hull, son of Bathsheba and Amos Hull. In the mid-1760s, Agrippa was sent from Northampton to be fostered by the Binney family when he was 6 years old. Amos Hull had died, and Bathsheba Hull had been forced from her land by the Northampton government. We do not know whether Agrippa going to live with the Binneys was Bathsheba’s choice. Her older son, Asaph, had been indentured by the town with the family of Joab Binney's and Amos Hull’s former enslavers. However, at 6, Agrippa may have been deemed too young to indenture, and Bathsheba may have been able to dictate where he was placed. It is reasonable to assume that Amos Hull and Joab Binney would have known each other, as they were both enslaved by the same man, and there may have been a pre-existing relationship between the families that would make Bathsheba feel safe entrusting her son to their care. However Agrippa came to the Binneys, it is probable that he was the only Hull son to be reunited with his mother. She moved to Stockbridge in the late 1760s; for more information, see her profile, or those for the rest of the Hull family. Agrippa seems to have remained close to the Binney family for several generations.
Family Home and Children
A 1771 property assessment gives a glimpse into what the Binney family’s home was like. At that point, Joab was listed as owning a 10.5 acre farm. More than half of it could be farmed, and he produced 54 bushels of grain and 3.5 tons of hay per year. He owned two horses, two oxen, two pigs, and three cows. This farm would have been both home and workspace for Joab, Rose, and their daughter Tamar. The family was enlarged again in 1782, when the Binneys had their last child, another daughter, Clamira.
Though Clamira would live to adulthood, Joab would not live to see it. Joab Binney died in 1783. His will focused on providing property for his daughters. He left Rose farm animals, firearms, raw provisions, and clothing, but no land. He set aside one-third of his land for Rose to use during her life, but after her death, it would go to Tamar. This type of arrangement was not uncommon if the surviving spouse was a wife, though some wives did inherit property outright. The remaining land was divided between Tamar and Clamira. Tamar ultimately had a bigger share than Clamira, inheriting ownership of two-thirds of the land. Joab also gave her half his “implements of household” (the other half went to Rose), all of the money that was owed to him, and a cow. This could be seen as favoritism, but it may have been pragmatism. Clamira was an infant, but Tamar was probably a teenager or young adult, and as such, of marriageable age. Giving her more in the will enlarged the dowry she would bring with her into a marriage and made her a more attractive prospect. Clamira’s property had time to appreciate in value; Tamar’s did not.
Joab assigned white Stockbridge men as guardians for both of his daughters, but Tamar’s guardian, Timothy Edwards, was the son of Jonathan Edwards, who had enslaved Rose. In his will, Joab refers to Timothy Edwards as “my friend,” but the exact nature of this relationship is unclear. It could be exactly what it seems—that despite the origins of their connection, the two men had formed a close enough relationship for Joab to want Edwards to look after one of his children when he was gone. However, “friend” could also be a more general term, and Joab could have chosen Edwards simply because Edwards was a man of means who was acquainted with his family. In either case, the continued connection to the family who had enslaved Rose is apparent even decades after Rose had gained her freedom.
Joab’s plan to provide for his family worked. Tamar married Thomas Kellis, and Clamira married Nicholas Rich. In 1798, the land Joab left behind was appraised again, and the estate had grown since 1771. It was now 25 acres and appraised at $200. Comparing it to other farms in the survey, this was one of the smaller estates, but by no means the smallest, and was probably still providing income. The valuation also revealed that, even though she had remarried, Rose still lived on the farm.
Census records for Clamira list her husband Nicholas’ profession as “laborer” and list him as illiterate. The same records, however, reveal that Clamira could read. Clamira died of dropsy (now known as edema) in 1854, possibly without ever having children. Tamar had two children, both sons. Her first, Charles Binney Kellis, was born in 1799. Her second, born in 1803, was named Joab, probably for her father. Dr. Joab Kellis was the first Black physician in Stockbridge. In his later years, he completed a kind of historical circle when he became a boarder in the home of Margaret Timbrook Hull, the wife of Agrippa Hull, who had lived in his grandfather’s house as a child. When Joab Kellis died in Stockbridge in 1866, his gravestone read that he was a “friend of the oppressed, he died lamented by all who knew him.”
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Though Clamira would live to adulthood, Joab would not live to see it. Joab Binney died in 1783. His will focused on providing property for his daughters. He left Rose farm animals, firearms, raw provisions, and clothing, but no land. He set aside one-third of his land for Rose to use during her life, but after her death, it would go to Tamar. This type of arrangement was not uncommon if the surviving spouse was a wife, though some wives did inherit property outright. The remaining land was divided between Tamar and Clamira. Tamar ultimately had a bigger share than Clamira, inheriting ownership of two-thirds of the land. Joab also gave her half his “implements of household” (the other half went to Rose), all of the money that was owed to him, and a cow. This could be seen as favoritism, but it may have been pragmatism. Clamira was an infant, but Tamar was probably a teenager or young adult, and as such, of marriageable age. Giving her more in the will enlarged the dowry she would bring with her into a marriage and made her a more attractive prospect. Clamira’s property had time to appreciate in value; Tamar’s did not.
Joab assigned white Stockbridge men as guardians for both of his daughters, but Tamar’s guardian, Timothy Edwards, was the son of Jonathan Edwards, who had enslaved Rose. In his will, Joab refers to Timothy Edwards as “my friend,” but the exact nature of this relationship is unclear. It could be exactly what it seems—that despite the origins of their connection, the two men had formed a close enough relationship for Joab to want Edwards to look after one of his children when he was gone. However, “friend” could also be a more general term, and Joab could have chosen Edwards simply because Edwards was a man of means who was acquainted with his family. In either case, the continued connection to the family who had enslaved Rose is apparent even decades after Rose had gained her freedom.
Joab’s plan to provide for his family worked. Tamar married Thomas Kellis, and Clamira married Nicholas Rich. In 1798, the land Joab left behind was appraised again, and the estate had grown since 1771. It was now 25 acres and appraised at $200. Comparing it to other farms in the survey, this was one of the smaller estates, but by no means the smallest, and was probably still providing income. The valuation also revealed that, even though she had remarried, Rose still lived on the farm.
Census records for Clamira list her husband Nicholas’ profession as “laborer” and list him as illiterate. The same records, however, reveal that Clamira could read. Clamira died of dropsy (now known as edema) in 1854, possibly without ever having children. Tamar had two children, both sons. Her first, Charles Binney Kellis, was born in 1799. Her second, born in 1803, was named Joab, probably for her father. Dr. Joab Kellis was the first Black physician in Stockbridge. In his later years, he completed a kind of historical circle when he became a boarder in the home of Margaret Timbrook Hull, the wife of Agrippa Hull, who had lived in his grandfather’s house as a child. When Joab Kellis died in Stockbridge in 1866, his gravestone read that he was a “friend of the oppressed, he died lamented by all who knew him.”
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Rose Binney
Rose Binney was born in the early to mid 1730s. She may have been born in West Africa, enslaved there, and taken to America. This was the version of events presented by Electa Jones, in Stockbridge, Past and Present, her 19th-century history of Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Jones wrote that “When a child,” Binney was captured “as she was getting water from a spring.”
In Northampton, Binney was enslaved by the minister Jonathan Edwards, and began a relationship with Joab Binney, who was enslaved by Jonathan Hunt III. In 1750, Edwards was removed from his position as minister of Northampton. Later that year, or perhaps the following year, Edwards and his household, including enslaved Rose Binney, moved to Stockbridge, Massachusetts.
In 1751, Rose and Joab Binney were married by Jonathan Edwards (Kenneth Minkema, “Jonathan Edwards’ Defense of Slavery”). Though we do not know the exact date when Rose gained her freedom, it seems that it was during the early 1750s, since she was not listed in the valuations of Edwards’ property in 1753. Some have conjectured that Rose and Joab were the parents of Titus, a boy whom Edwards enslaved in the 1750s and would have been born during this period. However, Titus was actually born in Connecticut and sold to Edwards as a child.
Between the years 1761 and 1771 Joab Binney and Rose Binney had four daughters who died in infancy, and one daughter who lived, named Tamar. All were born in Stockbridge. In 1782, the Binney’s next daughter, Clamira, was baptized.
In the 1770s, Rose Binney had a religious conversion experience and joined a Stockbridge church. Later, in 1797, Jonathan Edwards’ successor as minister in Stockbridge, Dr. Stephen West, wrote about Binney’s conversion. West’s article gives a relatively lengthy and personal account of Rose Binney’s life, but it is important not to view it as objective, not least because it was not written in her own voice. It was written apparently many years after the fact, and West had an interest in portraying his own power as a minister and God’s power as a converter.
It is evident that West wrote from his own inherent biases because he wrote dialogue for Binney with words spelled phonetically and in broken English, which should not be assumed to be her actual words. Although it could mean that Binney spoke with an accent, it could just as easily be an expression of racism and a belief that she was intellectually inferior. Since Binney had been in the U.S. for at least 25 years at this point, it is probable that the broken English at least is entirely fabricated, and, as such, we will paraphrase West’s content here as opposed to using actual quotes.
West begins his account at the funeral of Binney’s fourth child who died in infancy. While there, he entered into a dialogue with her about joining the church. He made her promise that if he guessed correctly why she wanted to join, she would confirm it. He then went on to tell her that he knew she wanted to join the church so that God would stop being angry with her, since his anger with her was the reason her children had died. West stated that Binney agreed with his explanation, and their dialogue continued over the coming days and weeks. The Rose Binney who appears in the article is clearly in severe emotional distress. She recounts sobbing for no reason, regular episodes of heavy sleep she can’t control, staying up all night agitated because she fears if she goes to sleep she will die and go to hell, and feeling as though she cannot go on living. She refers to herself as “vile,” “poor,” and “wicked.”
West stated that after they had been talking for some time, Binney told him that she had had a religious conversion experience while she was milking a cow—she saw the milk and her surroundings illuminated by God’s light. After her conversion experience she was admitted as a member of the church and remained so until her death. West stated that on their last visit she told him that she did not know if she was going to heaven.
It is hard to know what is real and what is fabricated in this story. The emotional outbursts and feelings of unworthiness that West attributes to Binney are standard tropes of a conversion narrative. This does not necessarily mean that they are untrue: West may have been attracted to Binney’s story as a subject because of how her feelings fit with the narrative he was trying to create. As such, it is worth looking at the broad strokes of how West reports that Binney felt, keeping in mind that these feelings likely have been embellished. The biggest through lines for Binney are distress, sadness, and self-loathing.
One possibility worth considering is that West is giving an accurate portrayal of Rose Binney’s emotional state as she described it to him, but interpreting it to serve his own purposes. West remembered going to the aforementioned funeral hoping that Binney’s daughter’s death would make her see God’s power and be interested in being baptized. He was disappointed when talking to her, since he only saw the “strong workings of maternal affection.” However, this is the last point in the narrative when he mentions her daughters’ deaths. He ascribes every future instance of emotional turmoil to her distress about her relationship with God. We may never know how much of what West describes is true, but it is clear that West had a poor understanding of his subject. Rose Binney was a formerly enslaved woman, taken from her own family as a child, who had then lost four children, the majority of her new family. Without considering her, and viewing her through a racist lens, he read a religious narrative onto what was happening in front of him.
Joab Binney died in 1783, shortly after the birth of Rose and Joab’s last child, Clamira. Rose would remarry a man with the surname Salter, but she would continue to live on the farm she shared with Joab for at least the next 20 years.
There are multiple accounts of Binney’s death. West wrote that she died before his published account in 1797. However, census records have a “Rose Salter” dying in 1822, at 78 years old. This could be a different person or her age could have been recorded incorrectly.
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In Northampton, Binney was enslaved by the minister Jonathan Edwards, and began a relationship with Joab Binney, who was enslaved by Jonathan Hunt III. In 1750, Edwards was removed from his position as minister of Northampton. Later that year, or perhaps the following year, Edwards and his household, including enslaved Rose Binney, moved to Stockbridge, Massachusetts.
In 1751, Rose and Joab Binney were married by Jonathan Edwards (Kenneth Minkema, “Jonathan Edwards’ Defense of Slavery”). Though we do not know the exact date when Rose gained her freedom, it seems that it was during the early 1750s, since she was not listed in the valuations of Edwards’ property in 1753. Some have conjectured that Rose and Joab were the parents of Titus, a boy whom Edwards enslaved in the 1750s and would have been born during this period. However, Titus was actually born in Connecticut and sold to Edwards as a child.
Between the years 1761 and 1771 Joab Binney and Rose Binney had four daughters who died in infancy, and one daughter who lived, named Tamar. All were born in Stockbridge. In 1782, the Binney’s next daughter, Clamira, was baptized.
In the 1770s, Rose Binney had a religious conversion experience and joined a Stockbridge church. Later, in 1797, Jonathan Edwards’ successor as minister in Stockbridge, Dr. Stephen West, wrote about Binney’s conversion. West’s article gives a relatively lengthy and personal account of Rose Binney’s life, but it is important not to view it as objective, not least because it was not written in her own voice. It was written apparently many years after the fact, and West had an interest in portraying his own power as a minister and God’s power as a converter.
It is evident that West wrote from his own inherent biases because he wrote dialogue for Binney with words spelled phonetically and in broken English, which should not be assumed to be her actual words. Although it could mean that Binney spoke with an accent, it could just as easily be an expression of racism and a belief that she was intellectually inferior. Since Binney had been in the U.S. for at least 25 years at this point, it is probable that the broken English at least is entirely fabricated, and, as such, we will paraphrase West’s content here as opposed to using actual quotes.
West begins his account at the funeral of Binney’s fourth child who died in infancy. While there, he entered into a dialogue with her about joining the church. He made her promise that if he guessed correctly why she wanted to join, she would confirm it. He then went on to tell her that he knew she wanted to join the church so that God would stop being angry with her, since his anger with her was the reason her children had died. West stated that Binney agreed with his explanation, and their dialogue continued over the coming days and weeks. The Rose Binney who appears in the article is clearly in severe emotional distress. She recounts sobbing for no reason, regular episodes of heavy sleep she can’t control, staying up all night agitated because she fears if she goes to sleep she will die and go to hell, and feeling as though she cannot go on living. She refers to herself as “vile,” “poor,” and “wicked.”
West stated that after they had been talking for some time, Binney told him that she had had a religious conversion experience while she was milking a cow—she saw the milk and her surroundings illuminated by God’s light. After her conversion experience she was admitted as a member of the church and remained so until her death. West stated that on their last visit she told him that she did not know if she was going to heaven.
It is hard to know what is real and what is fabricated in this story. The emotional outbursts and feelings of unworthiness that West attributes to Binney are standard tropes of a conversion narrative. This does not necessarily mean that they are untrue: West may have been attracted to Binney’s story as a subject because of how her feelings fit with the narrative he was trying to create. As such, it is worth looking at the broad strokes of how West reports that Binney felt, keeping in mind that these feelings likely have been embellished. The biggest through lines for Binney are distress, sadness, and self-loathing.
One possibility worth considering is that West is giving an accurate portrayal of Rose Binney’s emotional state as she described it to him, but interpreting it to serve his own purposes. West remembered going to the aforementioned funeral hoping that Binney’s daughter’s death would make her see God’s power and be interested in being baptized. He was disappointed when talking to her, since he only saw the “strong workings of maternal affection.” However, this is the last point in the narrative when he mentions her daughters’ deaths. He ascribes every future instance of emotional turmoil to her distress about her relationship with God. We may never know how much of what West describes is true, but it is clear that West had a poor understanding of his subject. Rose Binney was a formerly enslaved woman, taken from her own family as a child, who had then lost four children, the majority of her new family. Without considering her, and viewing her through a racist lens, he read a religious narrative onto what was happening in front of him.
Joab Binney died in 1783, shortly after the birth of Rose and Joab’s last child, Clamira. Rose would remarry a man with the surname Salter, but she would continue to live on the farm she shared with Joab for at least the next 20 years.
There are multiple accounts of Binney’s death. West wrote that she died before his published account in 1797. However, census records have a “Rose Salter” dying in 1822, at 78 years old. This could be a different person or her age could have been recorded incorrectly.
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Dinah
Dinah is part of one of the most descriptive records referring to an enslaved person in Northampton. She appears in the will and probate records of Joseph and Mercy Bartlett. However, there is little record of her outside of those documents, so much of what can be gleaned of her life is through inference.
Dinah was enslaved by Joseph and Mercy Bartlett. She was baptized on June 4, 1738 (First Church of Christ Records). She was given her freedom in Joseph Bartlett’s will of 1754, which referred to her as a “Negro woman.” After she gained her freedom at Joseph Bartlett’s death in 1755, she was employed by Mercy Bartlett, who survived her husband and later left Dinah property in her own will.
We can learn more about Dinah’s life by examining these documents. In his will, Bartlett freed her and left her four pounds, to be paid two years after his death if she was not yet married. If she was married in the two years after his death, she was to be given the equivalent of four pounds and thirteen shillings in household utensils on her wedding day (Probate Record of Joseph Bartlett).
The fact that Joseph Bartlett considered that Dinah could get married in the near future suggests that, in 1754, Dinah may have been considered of marriageable age. Commonly, this would be late teens through her 20s. She had been baptized 17 years earlier, so she was over 17 years old. However, if she was still of marriageable age, it implies that the Bartletts enslaved her as a child of 12 years old or less. It also suggests a potential range of birth years, the late 1720s and early 1730s. Alternately, Joseph Bartlett could have anticipated her marriage at any age if he knew she was in a relationship, or he could have simply left her the property out of a societal custom that linked female inheritance to marriage.
Upon her death in 1759, Mercy Bartlett left Dinah a collection of household property. Dinah inherited a stallion, a side saddle, a pillion (a cushion for a passenger on a horse), a bridle, a one-quart cup, a two-quart basin, one small pewter platter, one warming pan, one frying pan, one trammel, one small iron pot, one small iron kettle, one great wheel, one small wheel, one great chair, one small chair, cloth for a gown, four sheep, a gown, bed and bedding, three books (the New Testament, Watts Psalm Book, and On Help to Get Knowledge), and one glass bottle (Probate record of Mercy Bartlett).
Looked at as a whole, Dinah’s inheritance in Mercy Bartlett’s will is at least a partial set up for a household, with a horse (and accompanying accessories), a number of kitchen and dining goods, some furniture, some clothing, and a bed/bedding. Dinah and Peter, the other enslaved person freed in Joseph’s will, were two out of only three people mentioned in Mercy Bartlett’s will. The third person was Mary Kingsley, presumably a friend, to whom Mercy left the balance of the estate after what was given to Peter and Dinah. The only other entity who inherited anything was the church, to which Bartlett left one silver cup.
There are some differences between the inheritances that Mercy left to Dinah and Peter. Though both received high-value items, where they received comparable items Dinah’s appear to have had more value. She inherited a feather bed, while Peter’s was simply listed as a “bed.” She received a “Sorel Stallion” whereas he received a “one-eyed horse.” Dinah’s inheritance could suggest that Mercy Bartlett anticipated Dinah having her own household, or simply that she wanted to leave her employees items of value but not actual cash. The fact that Dinah was left items of higher value could indicate that Mercy Bartlett felt closer to her or had known her longer. However, the specific items left to Dinah seem more indicative of what Dinah’s life was like before Mercy Bartlett died than of what it would have been like after her former enslaver’s death. Dinah inherited two spinning wheels and a good deal of kitchen supplies, so it was probable that she was engaged in one or both of those tasks while living in the house and was inheriting items that she used every day.
The probate record attached to Mercy Bartlett’s will gives an additional detail about Dinah’s everyday life. Probate records were often grouped not by type of object, but by which room of the house the object was in. There were three bedsteads listed in the probate. It is apparent which belonged to Mercy Bartlet, since it is referred to as the “great” bedstead. The second bedstead, a “trundle,” is listed directly after it. As such, it appears that Dinah slept in the same room as Mercy Bartlett in a trundle bed, a not uncommon practice for a female domestic worker and her employer.
One last important fact about Dinah may already have become apparent from the list of her inheritance: Dinah knew how to read. Mercy Bartlett left her three books, and though they would have had some resale value, the fact that she chose specific titles to leave Dinah suggests that the content is what would have been important. Though there were some places in the country where teaching an enslaved person to read would have been against the law, it was legal in Massachusetts at this time. The books themselves also raise the issue of her piety. Dinah was baptized, and all of the books that Bartlett left her were on religious subjects, so it is possible that Dinah herself was devout. It is, of course, also possible that this was simply something that Bartlett was attempting to instill in her, or an attitude that Dinah adopted since she was living in what may have been a religious household.
We do not know much about Dinah’s life after the Bartletts were dead. However, Sylvester Judd refers to a record he found in a list of polls and estates for 1764, which stated “There seems to a Dinah also at Moses Kingsley’s—not a slave” (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 1, p. 65). Dinah was a common name for Black women at this time, so we cannot know if this is the same Dinah who was freed by Joseph Bartlett, but it is possible that after Mercy Bartlett’s death, she went to live or work in the home of Moses Kingsley.
Dinah died in July of 1772 (First Church of Christ Records).
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Dinah was enslaved by Joseph and Mercy Bartlett. She was baptized on June 4, 1738 (First Church of Christ Records). She was given her freedom in Joseph Bartlett’s will of 1754, which referred to her as a “Negro woman.” After she gained her freedom at Joseph Bartlett’s death in 1755, she was employed by Mercy Bartlett, who survived her husband and later left Dinah property in her own will.
We can learn more about Dinah’s life by examining these documents. In his will, Bartlett freed her and left her four pounds, to be paid two years after his death if she was not yet married. If she was married in the two years after his death, she was to be given the equivalent of four pounds and thirteen shillings in household utensils on her wedding day (Probate Record of Joseph Bartlett).
The fact that Joseph Bartlett considered that Dinah could get married in the near future suggests that, in 1754, Dinah may have been considered of marriageable age. Commonly, this would be late teens through her 20s. She had been baptized 17 years earlier, so she was over 17 years old. However, if she was still of marriageable age, it implies that the Bartletts enslaved her as a child of 12 years old or less. It also suggests a potential range of birth years, the late 1720s and early 1730s. Alternately, Joseph Bartlett could have anticipated her marriage at any age if he knew she was in a relationship, or he could have simply left her the property out of a societal custom that linked female inheritance to marriage.
Upon her death in 1759, Mercy Bartlett left Dinah a collection of household property. Dinah inherited a stallion, a side saddle, a pillion (a cushion for a passenger on a horse), a bridle, a one-quart cup, a two-quart basin, one small pewter platter, one warming pan, one frying pan, one trammel, one small iron pot, one small iron kettle, one great wheel, one small wheel, one great chair, one small chair, cloth for a gown, four sheep, a gown, bed and bedding, three books (the New Testament, Watts Psalm Book, and On Help to Get Knowledge), and one glass bottle (Probate record of Mercy Bartlett).
Looked at as a whole, Dinah’s inheritance in Mercy Bartlett’s will is at least a partial set up for a household, with a horse (and accompanying accessories), a number of kitchen and dining goods, some furniture, some clothing, and a bed/bedding. Dinah and Peter, the other enslaved person freed in Joseph’s will, were two out of only three people mentioned in Mercy Bartlett’s will. The third person was Mary Kingsley, presumably a friend, to whom Mercy left the balance of the estate after what was given to Peter and Dinah. The only other entity who inherited anything was the church, to which Bartlett left one silver cup.
There are some differences between the inheritances that Mercy left to Dinah and Peter. Though both received high-value items, where they received comparable items Dinah’s appear to have had more value. She inherited a feather bed, while Peter’s was simply listed as a “bed.” She received a “Sorel Stallion” whereas he received a “one-eyed horse.” Dinah’s inheritance could suggest that Mercy Bartlett anticipated Dinah having her own household, or simply that she wanted to leave her employees items of value but not actual cash. The fact that Dinah was left items of higher value could indicate that Mercy Bartlett felt closer to her or had known her longer. However, the specific items left to Dinah seem more indicative of what Dinah’s life was like before Mercy Bartlett died than of what it would have been like after her former enslaver’s death. Dinah inherited two spinning wheels and a good deal of kitchen supplies, so it was probable that she was engaged in one or both of those tasks while living in the house and was inheriting items that she used every day.
The probate record attached to Mercy Bartlett’s will gives an additional detail about Dinah’s everyday life. Probate records were often grouped not by type of object, but by which room of the house the object was in. There were three bedsteads listed in the probate. It is apparent which belonged to Mercy Bartlet, since it is referred to as the “great” bedstead. The second bedstead, a “trundle,” is listed directly after it. As such, it appears that Dinah slept in the same room as Mercy Bartlett in a trundle bed, a not uncommon practice for a female domestic worker and her employer.
One last important fact about Dinah may already have become apparent from the list of her inheritance: Dinah knew how to read. Mercy Bartlett left her three books, and though they would have had some resale value, the fact that she chose specific titles to leave Dinah suggests that the content is what would have been important. Though there were some places in the country where teaching an enslaved person to read would have been against the law, it was legal in Massachusetts at this time. The books themselves also raise the issue of her piety. Dinah was baptized, and all of the books that Bartlett left her were on religious subjects, so it is possible that Dinah herself was devout. It is, of course, also possible that this was simply something that Bartlett was attempting to instill in her, or an attitude that Dinah adopted since she was living in what may have been a religious household.
We do not know much about Dinah’s life after the Bartletts were dead. However, Sylvester Judd refers to a record he found in a list of polls and estates for 1764, which stated “There seems to a Dinah also at Moses Kingsley’s—not a slave” (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 1, p. 65). Dinah was a common name for Black women at this time, so we cannot know if this is the same Dinah who was freed by Joseph Bartlett, but it is possible that after Mercy Bartlett’s death, she went to live or work in the home of Moses Kingsley.
Dinah died in July of 1772 (First Church of Christ Records).
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Elizabeth
Elizabeth was enslaved by Colonel John Stoddard. She was a member of the church in Northampton and was baptized on December 21, 1735. This baptism does not give us an idea of her age, since it may have been an adult baptism. Her baptismal record listed her as “Negro servant to Col. Stoddard” (First Church of Christ Records, section 2, p.2 and p.8). Elizabeth is most probably the person referred to in the 1744 town tax records, which state that “Col. Stoddard” enslaved one person (Northampton Town Papers Whiting Street Fund, Tax Assessors 1703–1884, 1706–1791 Tax Valuations).
John Stoddard died in 1748, and there was an initial probate inventory of his home in 1749 that did not include Elizabeth. Elizabeth was mentioned in a 1758 document that sorted items of Stoddard's property by type; Elizabeth was included in the section with horses. She was listed as a “Negro maid” among his property to be valued. This document states that her value was 80 pounds. Two of the horses were written as having a higher monetary value than her (John Stoddard Probate Record). After Stoddard’s death, Elizabeth was enslaved by his widow, Prudence Stoddard. Elizabeth was recorded, but not named, in a town census (Trumbull, History of Northampton Massachusetts, vol. 2, p. 328).
Elizabeth may have died on October 13, 1767, cause unknown. One death record referred to “a negro woman” named Bess (First Church of Christ Records). We think that this is the same Elizabeth who was enslaved by Stoddard, but it has not been entirely confirmed. In her death record and the probate record she was known as Bess and Bes, respectively, but in her baptismal record she was known as Elizabeth.
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John Stoddard died in 1748, and there was an initial probate inventory of his home in 1749 that did not include Elizabeth. Elizabeth was mentioned in a 1758 document that sorted items of Stoddard's property by type; Elizabeth was included in the section with horses. She was listed as a “Negro maid” among his property to be valued. This document states that her value was 80 pounds. Two of the horses were written as having a higher monetary value than her (John Stoddard Probate Record). After Stoddard’s death, Elizabeth was enslaved by his widow, Prudence Stoddard. Elizabeth was recorded, but not named, in a town census (Trumbull, History of Northampton Massachusetts, vol. 2, p. 328).
Elizabeth may have died on October 13, 1767, cause unknown. One death record referred to “a negro woman” named Bess (First Church of Christ Records). We think that this is the same Elizabeth who was enslaved by Stoddard, but it has not been entirely confirmed. In her death record and the probate record she was known as Bess and Bes, respectively, but in her baptismal record she was known as Elizabeth.
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Noah Gomer
Noah Willhoughby Gomer (spelled Gomar in accompanying source) was born in Wethersfield, Connecticut, on July 10, 1776. His parents were Quash and Eleanor Smith Gomer. His siblings were named Midar, Tabitha, Catherine, Gomer, Francis, Aaron, Moses, Mary, and Elinor. (It is possible he had an additional sibling who died unnamed as an infant.)
Noah’s father, Quash Gomar, was born in Angola, according to his gravestone, between 1730 and 1732. He was enslaved as a seventeen-year-old in 1748 and brought to the United States, eventually living in Wethersfield, Connecticut. Quash was enslaved in Wethersfield by a man named John Smith. John Smith was also the guardian for a teenage girl named Mary Willhoughby. Mary had a brother named Noah, who was a sailor. Mary and Noah may have had another sibling, since Quash married a woman named Tabitha Willhoughby in Newington, Connecticut on October 9, 1760. She appears to have died soon after (information from the Wethersfield Historical Society).
John Smith hired out Quash during the period he was enslaved. Quash may have also been able to earn money as a fiddler. He saved up £25 and bought his freedom. In the same month, Quash Gomer married Eleanor Smith on November 23, 1766, at Trinity Church in New York City. Noah Willhoughby died shortly before Quash and Elinor’s first son, Midar, was born. The couple named their next child Tabitha, and the one after that Noah Willhoughby, after the deceased sailor.
Noah was indentured to Joseph Hutchens in Northampton and took his freedom in 1795 at 19 years old. This was reported in the Hampshire Gazette as well as other local newspapers when Hutchens advertised his escape in an attempt to have him caught. The advertisement describes him as being 5 feet, 8 inches tall, and says that when he ran away he was wearing brown, thick overalls, a gray waistcoat, a dark red jacket, and a skull cap. We have not been able to locate any further information on Noah Gomer to learn whether or not he was ever caught.
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Hannah
The only records we currently have of Hannah are legal records, and they do not contain any vital information. We do not know how old Hannah was, where she was born, or the names of her family members. We do know that she was enslaved by Timothy Baker, and of childbearing age in 1692 (this could put her birth year anywhere from the mid 1640s to the late 1670s). In the early 1690s, she was charged twice with fornication with another enslaved person named Mingo. The second case would have been regarded as more serious, because this time Hannah became pregnant.
Sylvester Judd copied the record of this second court session on April 12, 1692. The notes are as follows: “she [Hannah] owned the fact [that she was guilty of fornication] and accused Mingo as the father of her child in open court...Mingo stood mute, yet there was sufficient evidence that he had owned that it was his child -- and it being a heinous crime against the light of nature, the laws of god + man, & provoking evil in the sight of God + which so much abound among us, especially in such ignorant ones, rendering themselves like brutish beasts, which, if not suppressed + restrained, such wicked practices will abound to the reproach of all religion” (Judd manuscript).
This is not a typical judgment in a Hampshire County fornication case. Most often, the father of the child would not be named, only the woman would face punishment, and there was none of the moralizing that is seen here about the evil effects of fornication. Both Mingo and Hannah were sentenced to 15 lashes on their naked bodies.
Since both Mingo and Hannah were enslaved (Mingo was enslaved by Samuel Parsons), their child would have been born into slavery. After deciding the punishment for fornication, the same court session decided the manner of which man, Parsons or Baker, would enslave Mingo and Hannah’s child. The decision was reached that Parsons and Baker would be “joint + equal in charge of the child” until the child was nine years old. When the child was 9, either Parsons or Baker would pay the other half the value that they assigned to the child, thus taking full ownership, or they would have a “joint + equal property in said child, the value whereof to be divided betwixt them.” Dividing the value implies the intent either to hire out the child and split the wages, or to sell the child away from their family and split the profit (Judd manuscript, Hampshire Matters, p. 182).
Samuel Parsons’ will mentions that Mingo eventually married, but does not name his wife, so we do not know if it was Hannah (see the entry on Mingo for more detail).
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Sylvester Judd copied the record of this second court session on April 12, 1692. The notes are as follows: “she [Hannah] owned the fact [that she was guilty of fornication] and accused Mingo as the father of her child in open court...Mingo stood mute, yet there was sufficient evidence that he had owned that it was his child -- and it being a heinous crime against the light of nature, the laws of god + man, & provoking evil in the sight of God + which so much abound among us, especially in such ignorant ones, rendering themselves like brutish beasts, which, if not suppressed + restrained, such wicked practices will abound to the reproach of all religion” (Judd manuscript).
This is not a typical judgment in a Hampshire County fornication case. Most often, the father of the child would not be named, only the woman would face punishment, and there was none of the moralizing that is seen here about the evil effects of fornication. Both Mingo and Hannah were sentenced to 15 lashes on their naked bodies.
Since both Mingo and Hannah were enslaved (Mingo was enslaved by Samuel Parsons), their child would have been born into slavery. After deciding the punishment for fornication, the same court session decided the manner of which man, Parsons or Baker, would enslave Mingo and Hannah’s child. The decision was reached that Parsons and Baker would be “joint + equal in charge of the child” until the child was nine years old. When the child was 9, either Parsons or Baker would pay the other half the value that they assigned to the child, thus taking full ownership, or they would have a “joint + equal property in said child, the value whereof to be divided betwixt them.” Dividing the value implies the intent either to hire out the child and split the wages, or to sell the child away from their family and split the profit (Judd manuscript, Hampshire Matters, p. 182).
Samuel Parsons’ will mentions that Mingo eventually married, but does not name his wife, so we do not know if it was Hannah (see the entry on Mingo for more detail).
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Lydia Hill
On April 8, 1770, Lydia Hill was admitted to church membership in Northampton. She was described as a “negro.” The inclusion of a last name suggests that she was a free person at this time (First Church of Christ Records, section 2, p. 10).
Lydia Hill is named in a court record from 1778 summarized in the Judd manuscript: “Lydia Hill, negro + her children on the town 1775. Matthew Phelps paid for 3 quarts + part of room 3/6…John Wright's wife as midwife 6/. She died 1778. Elisha Pay as charged 35/ a week for keeping her…+c 60/week. He paid on coffin 36/. 3 pts…27/. 1 Sugar 6// one old sheet 20/. pt honey 4/“ (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 3 p. 79).
This record documents town expenses for Hill and her children. The fact that the town was involved in these expenses confirms that Hill was a free woman. Such costs give just a few details of her life: she had children and gave birth to at least one while the town was contributing to her expenses. This document also tells us that Hill died in 1778. It is possible, since it mentions that there was a weekly cost for caring for her while she was sick, that she died from a prolonged illness, perhaps the same illness that caused her to need the town’s aid in the first place.
During the mid-18th century, the laws regarding the poor in Massachusetts were rewritten, and it was required that towns provide “care” or “effective care” for residents deemed to fall into certain categories by either overseers of the poor or by selectmen. If a town denied someone who deserved aid, that town could be fined (“The Transformation of the Law of Poverty in Eighteenth-Century Massachusetts” by Douglas Lamar Jones). For more on town support, see the entry for Philemon Lee.
It is possible that Hill was the mother of Paul, a boy who was indentured as a child in Southampton, but the indenture paperwork does not give a surname. (See entry for Paul).
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Lydia Hill is named in a court record from 1778 summarized in the Judd manuscript: “Lydia Hill, negro + her children on the town 1775. Matthew Phelps paid for 3 quarts + part of room 3/6…John Wright's wife as midwife 6/. She died 1778. Elisha Pay as charged 35/ a week for keeping her…+c 60/week. He paid on coffin 36/. 3 pts…27/. 1 Sugar 6// one old sheet 20/. pt honey 4/“ (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 3 p. 79).
This record documents town expenses for Hill and her children. The fact that the town was involved in these expenses confirms that Hill was a free woman. Such costs give just a few details of her life: she had children and gave birth to at least one while the town was contributing to her expenses. This document also tells us that Hill died in 1778. It is possible, since it mentions that there was a weekly cost for caring for her while she was sick, that she died from a prolonged illness, perhaps the same illness that caused her to need the town’s aid in the first place.
During the mid-18th century, the laws regarding the poor in Massachusetts were rewritten, and it was required that towns provide “care” or “effective care” for residents deemed to fall into certain categories by either overseers of the poor or by selectmen. If a town denied someone who deserved aid, that town could be fined (“The Transformation of the Law of Poverty in Eighteenth-Century Massachusetts” by Douglas Lamar Jones). For more on town support, see the entry for Philemon Lee.
It is possible that Hill was the mother of Paul, a boy who was indentured as a child in Southampton, but the indenture paperwork does not give a surname. (See entry for Paul).
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Agrippa Hull
Since Agrippa Hull’s life has been documented in standalone articles and books, this entry will simply outline some major milestones of his life. For a more comprehensive biography, see Friends of Liberty by Gary Nash, Graham Russell, and Gao Hodges. This book will be particularly informative for anyone who wants more on the details of his service in the Revolutionary War, which will only be touched on briefly here.
Agrippa Hull was born in Northampton on March 7, 1759, to Bathsheba and Amos Hull. He lived there for the first six years of his life. When his mother was evicted from her home in 1765, he was sent to be fostered by Joab and Rose Binney in Stockbridge, MA. It seems that Hull kept up a relationship with the Binney family throughout his life - some sources refer to them as second parents to him. After his death, the Binneys’ grandson would move in with Hull’s widow as a border. When Bathsheba Hull moved to Stockbridge in 1768, she and Agrippa would have been reunited.
Agrippa Hull enlisted in the US army in May of 1775 and fought in the American Revolution as a private for more than six years. He served as an assistant for General Tadeusz Kosciuszko, which may have been where he got his nickname, “Grip” or “Grippy.” Later in life, Hull would retell a story of his time in the army: one night when Kosciuszko left the camp, Hull put on Kosciuszko’s military uniform and threw a party for all of the Black servants in the camp.
When Hull returned to Stockbridge after the Revolution, he bought a piece of land for £9, helped support his mother Bathsheba, and went to work in the household of Theodore Sedgewick. Sedgewick was the lawyer who represented Elizabeth Freeman (Mumbet) in her suit for freedom. One day, a self-emancipated woman, Jane Darby (or Darbe), came to Sedgewick to ask him to help her to gain her legal freedom from her enslaver, a Mr. Ingersoll (possibly from Lenox, MA). Sedgwick negotiated with Ingersoll, and after Darby was free she and Hull got married. They had three children who survived to adulthood, Charlotte, James, and Aseph (possibly named for Hull’s brother Asaph). Hull was the father of two other children who passed away. At some point in the early 19th century, Jane Darby Hull died.
In the year 1800, Hull was the largest Black landowner in Stockbridge. After his first wife’s death, Hull remarried Margaret Timbrook (or Timbroke), commonly called Peggy, in 1813. Timbrook was born in Newport, Rhode Island in 1789. An account from one of her descendants states that as a baby she was abandoned by a man who had initially sought to drown her. Timbrook was a gifted chef, specializing in root beer and gingerbread, and she made the wedding cakes for many in Stockbridge. The couple adopted a daughter named Mary Tilden, who was the biological daughter of a self-emancipated person from New York.
Hull had to sell off some of his land in the 1830s, but was still a fixture of Stockbridge society, known for being witty and charming. He loved children and took on the role of an elder for many young people in his neighborhood and kept up relationships with the children and grandchildren of the soldiers he served with. Hull was a storyteller, who would retell tales from the Revolution and show off objects that he retained from his service. (Much of this is gleaned from Friends of Liberty by Gary Nash, Graham Russell, and Gao Hodges).
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Agrippa Hull was born in Northampton on March 7, 1759, to Bathsheba and Amos Hull. He lived there for the first six years of his life. When his mother was evicted from her home in 1765, he was sent to be fostered by Joab and Rose Binney in Stockbridge, MA. It seems that Hull kept up a relationship with the Binney family throughout his life - some sources refer to them as second parents to him. After his death, the Binneys’ grandson would move in with Hull’s widow as a border. When Bathsheba Hull moved to Stockbridge in 1768, she and Agrippa would have been reunited.
Agrippa Hull enlisted in the US army in May of 1775 and fought in the American Revolution as a private for more than six years. He served as an assistant for General Tadeusz Kosciuszko, which may have been where he got his nickname, “Grip” or “Grippy.” Later in life, Hull would retell a story of his time in the army: one night when Kosciuszko left the camp, Hull put on Kosciuszko’s military uniform and threw a party for all of the Black servants in the camp.
When Hull returned to Stockbridge after the Revolution, he bought a piece of land for £9, helped support his mother Bathsheba, and went to work in the household of Theodore Sedgewick. Sedgewick was the lawyer who represented Elizabeth Freeman (Mumbet) in her suit for freedom. One day, a self-emancipated woman, Jane Darby (or Darbe), came to Sedgewick to ask him to help her to gain her legal freedom from her enslaver, a Mr. Ingersoll (possibly from Lenox, MA). Sedgwick negotiated with Ingersoll, and after Darby was free she and Hull got married. They had three children who survived to adulthood, Charlotte, James, and Aseph (possibly named for Hull’s brother Asaph). Hull was the father of two other children who passed away. At some point in the early 19th century, Jane Darby Hull died.
In the year 1800, Hull was the largest Black landowner in Stockbridge. After his first wife’s death, Hull remarried Margaret Timbrook (or Timbroke), commonly called Peggy, in 1813. Timbrook was born in Newport, Rhode Island in 1789. An account from one of her descendants states that as a baby she was abandoned by a man who had initially sought to drown her. Timbrook was a gifted chef, specializing in root beer and gingerbread, and she made the wedding cakes for many in Stockbridge. The couple adopted a daughter named Mary Tilden, who was the biological daughter of a self-emancipated person from New York.
Hull had to sell off some of his land in the 1830s, but was still a fixture of Stockbridge society, known for being witty and charming. He loved children and took on the role of an elder for many young people in his neighborhood and kept up relationships with the children and grandchildren of the soldiers he served with. Hull was a storyteller, who would retell tales from the Revolution and show off objects that he retained from his service. (Much of this is gleaned from Friends of Liberty by Gary Nash, Graham Russell, and Gao Hodges).
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Amos Hull Sr.
Amos Hull was listed as “Amos Negro” in First Church of Christ records, but family records confirm them to be the same person. We do not know much about Hull’s early life, but in Northampton he appears to have been involved in the church to a significant extent. He was listed as being “In full communion” with the First Church - indicating full membership (First Church of Christ Records). We have also seen a record of Jonathan Edwards giving him catechism along with white children, asking him for the number of the kings of Judah.
The First Church of Christ Records list him as a “Servant” of Jonathan Hunt III, which indicates that Hunt enslaved him. We know that eventually Amos Hull was freed, though we do not know how he gained his freedom. In Electa Jones’ history of Stockbridge, she says that both of his son Agrippa’s parents were free. If accurate, this could indicate that Hull gained his freedom before Agrippa was born in 1759. Hull and his wife Bathsheba had five children. Amos was born in 1754, Asaph was born in 1755, Margaret was born in 1757, Agrippa was born in 1759, and Margaret was born in 1761.
We do not currently know Hull’s occupation, but we do have one record of his day-to-day life: his account with hat manufacturer and store owner Ebenezer Hunt (his enslaver’s uncle). Hull bought supplies from Hunt and paid for them with farm work instead of currency. Paying with labor or other goods (animals, other farm crops) was not uncommon during this period.
Another indication of what his life as a free person was like can be found in the 1761 valuation of Hull’s property. It noted that he owned two horses and a cow and valued these assets at £5, 10 shillings (Judd manuscript, Northampton volume 3, p. 97).
Amos Hull died on June 19, 1761 (First Church of Christ Records).
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The First Church of Christ Records list him as a “Servant” of Jonathan Hunt III, which indicates that Hunt enslaved him. We know that eventually Amos Hull was freed, though we do not know how he gained his freedom. In Electa Jones’ history of Stockbridge, she says that both of his son Agrippa’s parents were free. If accurate, this could indicate that Hull gained his freedom before Agrippa was born in 1759. Hull and his wife Bathsheba had five children. Amos was born in 1754, Asaph was born in 1755, Margaret was born in 1757, Agrippa was born in 1759, and Margaret was born in 1761.
We do not currently know Hull’s occupation, but we do have one record of his day-to-day life: his account with hat manufacturer and store owner Ebenezer Hunt (his enslaver’s uncle). Hull bought supplies from Hunt and paid for them with farm work instead of currency. Paying with labor or other goods (animals, other farm crops) was not uncommon during this period.
- Purchases
- 1751: bought wood, ploughing, and wheat. Paid for it in mowing, threshing, fanning, and reaping
- Between 1754 and 1759 he bought hats, wheat, sugar, corn, wool, and beef. He paid for the goods with labor in 1754 as follows: mowing, threshing (possibly in December of that year)
Another indication of what his life as a free person was like can be found in the 1761 valuation of Hull’s property. It noted that he owned two horses and a cow and valued these assets at £5, 10 shillings (Judd manuscript, Northampton volume 3, p. 97).
Amos Hull died on June 19, 1761 (First Church of Christ Records).
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Amos Hull Jr.
Amos Hull Jr. was listed as the “son of Amos Negro” in his baptismal record (September 15, 1754) (First Church of Christ Records). There is no mother listed in the genealogy record (as was common for children of married parents), but his mother was most probably Bathsheba Hull.
We have very little confirmed information about his childhood, but it is possible that when his mother was forced off of her land, he was placed in Hadley (it is unknown whether this was with or without her consent). There is a record for an Amos Hull from Hadley who was “reported a negro” serving in several regiments during the American Revolution. The Amos Hull listed served in several different units, deserting at least once. He served between 1776 and 1780 (Massachusetts Soldiers and Sailors of the Revolutionary War, volume 8, p. 477).
Amos Hull Jr. married an Indigenous woman named Eunice. Eunice died on May 8, 1785. The fact that her death was recorded in Belchertown suggests that Hull may have moved there (Rev. Justus Forward’s Vital Records Books, p.114).
In a 1791 court filing, Agrippa and Margaret Hull stated that they were the only living children of Bathsheba Hull. This implied either that Amos Hull had died by 1791, or that the family was claiming they could not locate him (Berkshire Court of Common Pleas, 11:292, no. 195).
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We have very little confirmed information about his childhood, but it is possible that when his mother was forced off of her land, he was placed in Hadley (it is unknown whether this was with or without her consent). There is a record for an Amos Hull from Hadley who was “reported a negro” serving in several regiments during the American Revolution. The Amos Hull listed served in several different units, deserting at least once. He served between 1776 and 1780 (Massachusetts Soldiers and Sailors of the Revolutionary War, volume 8, p. 477).
Amos Hull Jr. married an Indigenous woman named Eunice. Eunice died on May 8, 1785. The fact that her death was recorded in Belchertown suggests that Hull may have moved there (Rev. Justus Forward’s Vital Records Books, p.114).
In a 1791 court filing, Agrippa and Margaret Hull stated that they were the only living children of Bathsheba Hull. This implied either that Amos Hull had died by 1791, or that the family was claiming they could not locate him (Berkshire Court of Common Pleas, 11:292, no. 195).
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Asaph Hull
Asaph Hull was listed as the “Son of Amos Negro” in First Church of Christ Records record (he was born on October 16, 1755 and baptized on November 23, 1755). Though no mother was listed in any genealogical records (as was common for children of married parents), his mother was probably Bathsheba Hull (First Church of Christ Records).
In 1762, Asaph Hull was placed as an indentured servant in Fairfield, CT, with Seth Pomeroy Jr., son of the Northampton gunsmith and soldier. It is unclear whether this was Bathsheba’s choice. Asaph’s indenture paper work suggests that it was not, since Bathsheba is not mentioned, and it was the Board of Northampton's Overseers of the Poor that ordered his indenture. The paperwork refers to him as a “poor” child and implies that the arrangement is for his own good, but gives no proof as to the economic circumstances of his family and makes no mention of the harm that removing him from that family would do.
The fact that his father had died in 1761 was not mentioned. His mother was a landowner, but being a single parent household run by a Black woman could have greatly influenced the town’s decision to remove him from his home.
Asaph Hull died on January 10th, 1766, in Connecticut, cause unknown. He was 10 years old.
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In 1762, Asaph Hull was placed as an indentured servant in Fairfield, CT, with Seth Pomeroy Jr., son of the Northampton gunsmith and soldier. It is unclear whether this was Bathsheba’s choice. Asaph’s indenture paper work suggests that it was not, since Bathsheba is not mentioned, and it was the Board of Northampton's Overseers of the Poor that ordered his indenture. The paperwork refers to him as a “poor” child and implies that the arrangement is for his own good, but gives no proof as to the economic circumstances of his family and makes no mention of the harm that removing him from that family would do.
The fact that his father had died in 1761 was not mentioned. His mother was a landowner, but being a single parent household run by a Black woman could have greatly influenced the town’s decision to remove him from his home.
Asaph Hull died on January 10th, 1766, in Connecticut, cause unknown. He was 10 years old.
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Bathsheba Hull
Bathsheba Hull was referred to as “Bathsheba Negro” in the listing that recorded her as a member of Northampton’s church (First Church of Christ Records). We currently do not have a record of her early life, but she may have been born in the early 1720s.
Hull may have been the “Bathsheba Negro” who testified in Jonathan Edwards’ investigation of the “bad book” episode. In 1744, Edwards accused several white young men and boys of reading lewd material, possibly a midwifery text. Bathsheba testified that she had seen Noah Baker, Timothy Warner, and Elkanah Burt reading a book they jokingly referred to as “the bible” and then read it aloud to her and Naomi Warner. Documentation from Edwards’ notes here is a bit unclear, but what follows is “Ready to kiss them, and catch hold of the girls an [sic] shook ‘em,” which suggests that the accused may have assaulted Bathsheba and Warner. Bathsheba also recalled another incident when she and Joanna Clark were in the street, and Oliver Warner came up to them to ask them about knowledge he had learned from the book, saying “When does the moon change girls? I believe you can tell.” Joanna Clark also testified, and recalled the exact same thing (Documents Relating to the “Bad Book” Case, Church and Pastoral Documents (WJE Online vol. 39.), ed. Jonathan Edwards Center).
If this testimony refers to Bathsheba Hull, there are a few details here that could suggest more about her life. The record stated that Bathsheba was “Maj. Pomeroy’s servant,” probably referring to Ebenezer Pomeroy, which indicates her enslaver. The document also suggests her age. In both instances, either the recorder or the speaker refers to Bathsheba and the person she was with as “girls.” This would indicate both that she was younger at the time, and that she was probably around the same age as Naomi Warner and Joanna Clark, who were 25 and 17, respectively. We do not know the exact relationship that Bathsheba had with Warner and Clark, whether it was social or an aspect of her enslavement. We do know that she gained her freedom, but we do not know when or how. Electa Hunt wrote that Agrippa Hull's parents were both free, which suggests that she was already free by 1759 when he was born.
She was married to Amos Hull, and together they had five children. Since all evidence points to her children being born free, it is highly likely that she herself had gained her freedom by the time they were born. Amos Jr. was born in 1754, Asaph was born in 1755, Margaret was born in 1757, Agrippa was born in 1759, and Margaret was born in 1761. We believe all of these children had both Amos and Bathsheba as their biological parents, but—as was very common at the time for children of married parents—no mother was listed on birth records.
We do not know the full details of Hull’s occupation, but we do know that at least on one occasion she took in laundry for Ebenezer Hunt (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 3, p. 68). Hull first lived in a home near present-day West Street. It was referred to as “near Welsh-End Bridge” in the Judd manuscript (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 2, p. 300). Proximity to the Mill River (which at that time ran through downtown, just south of Main Street) made this poor land, since the Mill River flooded frequently.
She later bought a house and land from John McLane. The exact purchase date is not currently known, but since Judd describes her as being a widow when she lived there, it may have been later than 1761, when Amos Sr. died (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 2, p. 300). Trumbull described this land as “on the Island near South Street bridge, formed by the Mill Trench.” The Mill Trench was the route that waste water from the town’s original mill took to get back to the Mill River.
The water in the Mill River Trench eroded the land around it. When the trench was first dug, it crossed over four home lots. The original English owner of the land where Hull lived, John Webb, petitioned the town to replace his land that had been scoured by the trench water. In 1659, he was given two acres elsewhere in town to make up for “Damages hee suffers in his home lott by Reason of the Mill and the Trench diging Gravell” (History of Northampton Massachusetts, vol. 1, p. 96). As a part of this transaction, Webb gave ownership of this part of his lot to the town. This would probably not have been an easy piece of land to live on, and Hull would have had to deal with the same soil erosion issues as Webb, as well as flooding from the Mill River, and the difficulties of entrance and exit that came from living on an island.
Judd wrote that one local named John Hodge, whom Judd talked to about Hull, remembered that during this period in her life she was “stout.” Hodge also recalled that “the boys sometimes threw snowballs at her house, + she would sally out after them. She once caught Hodge and gave him a good licking” (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 2, p. 300).
In 1765, Northampton claimed rights to the land that Hull was living on. The town’s case rested on the question of ownership by the father of the man who had sold Hull her house. Trumbull wrote that Culbert McLane had not actually bought the lot from the town, but was squatting on it. Therefore, since his son John McLane could not rightfully inherit it, he did not have the right to sell the home and land to Hull, since he did not own it himself (History of Northampton, vol. 2, p. 316).
Northampton went to court to take ownership of the land away from Hull, and in 1766 the court ruled in the town’s favor. In 1767, the town voted to offer to purchase Hull’s house instead of just seizing it. If Hull refused to sell or “would not accept a reasonable price for it” the town was authorized to “demolish and abate [her house] in such a manner as to render it uninhabitable.” There is no record of exactly what Hull’s reply was, but it seems that she did sell, since in 1768 the town moved her belongings to “the lower end of Pleasant St.” (History of Northampton, vol. 2, p. 316).
We have no record of anyone stating the exact reason for Northampton’s sudden interest in seizing this land, so below are some of the major factors that could have contributed to this decision.
There is no doubt that Hull would have faced considerable racism in Northampton, as not just as a Black woman, but also as a Black woman who owned property. Culbert and John McLane had been in this spot for more than a generation. They had lived on the land, passed it from one generation to another, and sold it to Hull without Northampton's raising any objections. This pattern suggests that Hull’s race (and possibly her gender, or the intersection of the two) was a motivating factor behind the dispossession.
In 1778, Ithamar Strong built a cider mill on the Island (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 2, p.301). His agreement with the town was that every year he would pay Northampton “the full value of half the cyder which he shall make from the apple trees that are upon the town’s land at that place as long as he shall enjoy the same.” The usage of “at that place” and “the same” imply that the trees were in the same place where Strong built the cider mill: the island. The presence of the apple trees would raise the value of the land that Hull’s house was sitting on, and the chance to take a big cut of the income from those trees would be a motivation for Northampton to seize land that they could claim was legally theirs to begin with.
Hull may have been the “Bathsheba Negro” who testified in Jonathan Edwards’ investigation of the “bad book” episode. In 1744, Edwards accused several white young men and boys of reading lewd material, possibly a midwifery text. Bathsheba testified that she had seen Noah Baker, Timothy Warner, and Elkanah Burt reading a book they jokingly referred to as “the bible” and then read it aloud to her and Naomi Warner. Documentation from Edwards’ notes here is a bit unclear, but what follows is “Ready to kiss them, and catch hold of the girls an [sic] shook ‘em,” which suggests that the accused may have assaulted Bathsheba and Warner. Bathsheba also recalled another incident when she and Joanna Clark were in the street, and Oliver Warner came up to them to ask them about knowledge he had learned from the book, saying “When does the moon change girls? I believe you can tell.” Joanna Clark also testified, and recalled the exact same thing (Documents Relating to the “Bad Book” Case, Church and Pastoral Documents (WJE Online vol. 39.), ed. Jonathan Edwards Center).
If this testimony refers to Bathsheba Hull, there are a few details here that could suggest more about her life. The record stated that Bathsheba was “Maj. Pomeroy’s servant,” probably referring to Ebenezer Pomeroy, which indicates her enslaver. The document also suggests her age. In both instances, either the recorder or the speaker refers to Bathsheba and the person she was with as “girls.” This would indicate both that she was younger at the time, and that she was probably around the same age as Naomi Warner and Joanna Clark, who were 25 and 17, respectively. We do not know the exact relationship that Bathsheba had with Warner and Clark, whether it was social or an aspect of her enslavement. We do know that she gained her freedom, but we do not know when or how. Electa Hunt wrote that Agrippa Hull's parents were both free, which suggests that she was already free by 1759 when he was born.
She was married to Amos Hull, and together they had five children. Since all evidence points to her children being born free, it is highly likely that she herself had gained her freedom by the time they were born. Amos Jr. was born in 1754, Asaph was born in 1755, Margaret was born in 1757, Agrippa was born in 1759, and Margaret was born in 1761. We believe all of these children had both Amos and Bathsheba as their biological parents, but—as was very common at the time for children of married parents—no mother was listed on birth records.
We do not know the full details of Hull’s occupation, but we do know that at least on one occasion she took in laundry for Ebenezer Hunt (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 3, p. 68). Hull first lived in a home near present-day West Street. It was referred to as “near Welsh-End Bridge” in the Judd manuscript (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 2, p. 300). Proximity to the Mill River (which at that time ran through downtown, just south of Main Street) made this poor land, since the Mill River flooded frequently.
She later bought a house and land from John McLane. The exact purchase date is not currently known, but since Judd describes her as being a widow when she lived there, it may have been later than 1761, when Amos Sr. died (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 2, p. 300). Trumbull described this land as “on the Island near South Street bridge, formed by the Mill Trench.” The Mill Trench was the route that waste water from the town’s original mill took to get back to the Mill River.
The water in the Mill River Trench eroded the land around it. When the trench was first dug, it crossed over four home lots. The original English owner of the land where Hull lived, John Webb, petitioned the town to replace his land that had been scoured by the trench water. In 1659, he was given two acres elsewhere in town to make up for “Damages hee suffers in his home lott by Reason of the Mill and the Trench diging Gravell” (History of Northampton Massachusetts, vol. 1, p. 96). As a part of this transaction, Webb gave ownership of this part of his lot to the town. This would probably not have been an easy piece of land to live on, and Hull would have had to deal with the same soil erosion issues as Webb, as well as flooding from the Mill River, and the difficulties of entrance and exit that came from living on an island.
Judd wrote that one local named John Hodge, whom Judd talked to about Hull, remembered that during this period in her life she was “stout.” Hodge also recalled that “the boys sometimes threw snowballs at her house, + she would sally out after them. She once caught Hodge and gave him a good licking” (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 2, p. 300).
In 1765, Northampton claimed rights to the land that Hull was living on. The town’s case rested on the question of ownership by the father of the man who had sold Hull her house. Trumbull wrote that Culbert McLane had not actually bought the lot from the town, but was squatting on it. Therefore, since his son John McLane could not rightfully inherit it, he did not have the right to sell the home and land to Hull, since he did not own it himself (History of Northampton, vol. 2, p. 316).
Northampton went to court to take ownership of the land away from Hull, and in 1766 the court ruled in the town’s favor. In 1767, the town voted to offer to purchase Hull’s house instead of just seizing it. If Hull refused to sell or “would not accept a reasonable price for it” the town was authorized to “demolish and abate [her house] in such a manner as to render it uninhabitable.” There is no record of exactly what Hull’s reply was, but it seems that she did sell, since in 1768 the town moved her belongings to “the lower end of Pleasant St.” (History of Northampton, vol. 2, p. 316).
We have no record of anyone stating the exact reason for Northampton’s sudden interest in seizing this land, so below are some of the major factors that could have contributed to this decision.
There is no doubt that Hull would have faced considerable racism in Northampton, as not just as a Black woman, but also as a Black woman who owned property. Culbert and John McLane had been in this spot for more than a generation. They had lived on the land, passed it from one generation to another, and sold it to Hull without Northampton's raising any objections. This pattern suggests that Hull’s race (and possibly her gender, or the intersection of the two) was a motivating factor behind the dispossession.
In 1778, Ithamar Strong built a cider mill on the Island (Judd manuscript, Northampton vol. 2, p.301). His agreement with the town was that every year he would pay Northampton “the full value of half the cyder which he shall make from the apple trees that are upon the town’s land at that place as long as he shall enjoy the same.” The usage of “at that place” and “the same” imply that the trees were in the same place where Strong built the cider mill: the island. The presence of the apple trees would raise the value of the land that Hull’s house was sitting on, and the chance to take a big cut of the income from those trees would be a motivation for Northampton to seize land that they could claim was legally theirs to begin with.
One big unknown in this situation is how Bathsheba’s second husband, Philemon Lee, fit into the legal battle. During a court case related to Lee's being warned out of town, he said that he desired to purchase property in Northampton. Without reading too much into this, it is worth thinking about Lee’s intention and any buying power he had as another sticking point for Northampton. If she retained the property and he expanded their holdings, they could well have become among the largest if not the largest landholders in town who were Black.
During and after the eviction proceedings, Bathsheba was separated from all of her male children. Her son Agrippa was sent to be fostered by the Binney family, in Stockbridge. Hull may have been able to choose Agrippa’s destination herself because there was already a connection between the Binney and Hull families. (Both lived in Northampton in the 1750s and were enslaved by the same man). Her son Asaph was sent by the Northampton Overseers of the Poor to be an indentured servant in Fairfield, CT, where he died. Her oldest son Amos went to Hadley, though we are not sure in exactly what capacity. The only child who remained with her was her daughter Margaret.
At some point between 1761 and 1768, Bathsheba married her second husband, Philemon Lee. In 1766, Lee was warned out of Northampton, but returned. As a result, in November of 1767 he was placed in jail in Springfield. After moving to Springfield and then being warned out (see entries for Philemon Lee and Margaret Hull for more about this), Hull and her daughter Margaret went to Stockbridge and were reunited with Agrippa.
Between 1768 and 1791, Lee either died or the couple separated. By 1791, Bathsheba was in a position where she needed to be cared for by her children. Agrippa provided for her care, but her daughter Margaret’s husband, Cesar Freeman, did not. Agrippa ended up suing Freeman, and the report on the case stated that “the mother of the said Agrippa is a poor impotent Person, blind & altogether unable to provide for her support & Maintenance.” Since the case was never resolved, the family may have worked out an agreement outside of the courtroom. (Berkshire Court of Common Pleas 11:292, no.195).
Since we do not have a definite death date for Bathsheba Hull, it is also possible that this situation was resolved if she died between 1791 and 1792.
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During and after the eviction proceedings, Bathsheba was separated from all of her male children. Her son Agrippa was sent to be fostered by the Binney family, in Stockbridge. Hull may have been able to choose Agrippa’s destination herself because there was already a connection between the Binney and Hull families. (Both lived in Northampton in the 1750s and were enslaved by the same man). Her son Asaph was sent by the Northampton Overseers of the Poor to be an indentured servant in Fairfield, CT, where he died. Her oldest son Amos went to Hadley, though we are not sure in exactly what capacity. The only child who remained with her was her daughter Margaret.
At some point between 1761 and 1768, Bathsheba married her second husband, Philemon Lee. In 1766, Lee was warned out of Northampton, but returned. As a result, in November of 1767 he was placed in jail in Springfield. After moving to Springfield and then being warned out (see entries for Philemon Lee and Margaret Hull for more about this), Hull and her daughter Margaret went to Stockbridge and were reunited with Agrippa.
Between 1768 and 1791, Lee either died or the couple separated. By 1791, Bathsheba was in a position where she needed to be cared for by her children. Agrippa provided for her care, but her daughter Margaret’s husband, Cesar Freeman, did not. Agrippa ended up suing Freeman, and the report on the case stated that “the mother of the said Agrippa is a poor impotent Person, blind & altogether unable to provide for her support & Maintenance.” Since the case was never resolved, the family may have worked out an agreement outside of the courtroom. (Berkshire Court of Common Pleas 11:292, no.195).
Since we do not have a definite death date for Bathsheba Hull, it is also possible that this situation was resolved if she died between 1791 and 1792.
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Margaret Hull
Margaret Hull was baptized on February 8, 1761. She was the fifth child of Amos Hull and Bathsheba Hull, though no mother was listed for any of the Hull children in church records. She was the second Hull child to be named Margaret. In the 18th century, it was a common for families who lost a child to give the next child of the same sex the same name as the child who had passed away (Hull genealogy, Judd manuscript).
After Bathsheba Hull was forced from her home, Margaret was the only child who remained in Northampton. Her three brothers were separated from the family during this period. We do not know if Bathsheba was able to keep Margaret (who would have been about four years old at the time) with her, or if Margaret was placed (willingly or not) in another Northampton home.
After Bathsheba Hull was forced from her home, Margaret was the only child who remained in Northampton. Her three brothers were separated from the family during this period. We do not know if Bathsheba was able to keep Margaret (who would have been about four years old at the time) with her, or if Margaret was placed (willingly or not) in another Northampton home.
Margaret Hull’s stepfather, Philemon Lee, was warned out of Northampton, and sent to jail in Springfield in 1768. Hull and her mother went to Springfield themselves, but then were warned out of Springfield on May 17, 1768. The document referred to Margaret and her mother as “transient negroes” who were from Northampton. Margaret would have had resident status in Northampton, since she was born there. At this point, she would have been about seven years old.
After they were warned out of Springfield, Margaret Hull went with her mother to Stockbridge. There, she would have been reunited with her brother Agrippa.
Margaret Hull married Cesar Freeman on March 24, 1783, in Great Barrington, MA (Great Barrington Marriages, p. 33). Freeman appears to have been free at the time of their marriage, but we do not know if he was born free or was formerly enslaved.
In the 1790s, the couple lived in Stockbridge, MA. The 1790 census listed Cesar Freeman’s household as having five persons in it, but since they were listed under the “all other persons” category (the category for non-white people who were not enslaved), there is no indication of the sex or age of these people. We assume one was Margaret, and the other three could be three children, but could also be boarders, friends, or other family members. They are just a few entries below Agrippa Hull, which, depending on how the census was conducted, could mean that they lived near each other.
In October 1791, Agrippa Hull filed a claim against Cesar Freeman. The claim stated that Hull was supporting Bathsheba Hull in her old age on his own and Freeman would not contribute. A section reads: “The said Ceasar [sic] is able to contribute to the Support and comfortable subsistance [sic] of the said Bersheba [sic], but doth refuse to contribute anything thereto – And that in consequence thereof the sd Agrippa hath alone for many years past Supported & maintained his sd Mother to his great injury: wherefore the said Agrippa prays this Court that the sd Ceasar [sic] may be oblidged [sic] to do justice…”
This case is just a snapshot of the lives of Margaret and her family, so although it is suggestive, we don’t know fully what the situation was. We can see clearly that at this point Cesar Freeman was unwilling to support Bathsheba Hull, but we cannot see whether he, his wife, or both of them were truly driving this decision. Given the patriarchal structure of late-18th-century society, even if Margaret wanted to support her mother, her husband would probably have had the final say in financial matters. The alternative is that the relationship between Margaret and her mother had not been close or was strained at this time.
In January 1792, the court records state that both Agrippa Hull and Cesar Freeman had been called to court three times and neither had appeared, and that the case was dropped (Berkshire Court of Common Pleas, 11:324, no. 195). Again, we do not know the circumstances behind this filing, but it could be that the family had worked out the matter internally, that the Freemans had moved and were unreachable, or that Bathsheba had passed away.
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After they were warned out of Springfield, Margaret Hull went with her mother to Stockbridge. There, she would have been reunited with her brother Agrippa.
Margaret Hull married Cesar Freeman on March 24, 1783, in Great Barrington, MA (Great Barrington Marriages, p. 33). Freeman appears to have been free at the time of their marriage, but we do not know if he was born free or was formerly enslaved.
In the 1790s, the couple lived in Stockbridge, MA. The 1790 census listed Cesar Freeman’s household as having five persons in it, but since they were listed under the “all other persons” category (the category for non-white people who were not enslaved), there is no indication of the sex or age of these people. We assume one was Margaret, and the other three could be three children, but could also be boarders, friends, or other family members. They are just a few entries below Agrippa Hull, which, depending on how the census was conducted, could mean that they lived near each other.
In October 1791, Agrippa Hull filed a claim against Cesar Freeman. The claim stated that Hull was supporting Bathsheba Hull in her old age on his own and Freeman would not contribute. A section reads: “The said Ceasar [sic] is able to contribute to the Support and comfortable subsistance [sic] of the said Bersheba [sic], but doth refuse to contribute anything thereto – And that in consequence thereof the sd Agrippa hath alone for many years past Supported & maintained his sd Mother to his great injury: wherefore the said Agrippa prays this Court that the sd Ceasar [sic] may be oblidged [sic] to do justice…”
This case is just a snapshot of the lives of Margaret and her family, so although it is suggestive, we don’t know fully what the situation was. We can see clearly that at this point Cesar Freeman was unwilling to support Bathsheba Hull, but we cannot see whether he, his wife, or both of them were truly driving this decision. Given the patriarchal structure of late-18th-century society, even if Margaret wanted to support her mother, her husband would probably have had the final say in financial matters. The alternative is that the relationship between Margaret and her mother had not been close or was strained at this time.
In January 1792, the court records state that both Agrippa Hull and Cesar Freeman had been called to court three times and neither had appeared, and that the case was dropped (Berkshire Court of Common Pleas, 11:324, no. 195). Again, we do not know the circumstances behind this filing, but it could be that the family had worked out the matter internally, that the Freemans had moved and were unreachable, or that Bathsheba had passed away.
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Jack
We know little about the life of Jack before he was enslaved by Samuel Wolcott in Wethersfield, CT. We do not know how old he was at that point, or where he was born. There is a notation in Samuel Wollcott’s account book on September 4, 1678, that states “bringing up my Negro from Haddam” and another on November 2, 1680, that states “they brought up my Negro from Haddam” (Account Book of Samuel Wolcott). This could suggest that Jack may have lived or spent time in Haddam, CT, before or during his time enslaved by Wolcott.
Samuel Wolcott was a violent man. This was documented by Jack and by others. In 1690, Wolcott was charged with beating a servant, an Indigenous man named Shumackpock (Genealogies and Biographies of Ancient Wethersfield, p. 842). Also in 1690, Hugh Peck accused Wolcott of repeated brutal beatings, including one where Wolcott beat the boy with three sticks until Peck was “bruised and wounded him in a grievous maner [sic]”. The relationship between the two is unknown, but Peck referred to Wolcott as his “master” and was probably an indentured servant. The court took Peck away from Wolcott after Wolcott stated that he did not think he had done anything wrong and that if Peck was returned to him he would “beat him worse” (Early Connecticut Probate Records, 1635–1700, vol. 5, p. 524). This context is helpful in viewing what Jack said about Wolcott’s treatment of him, even though these charges were filed later.
Wolcott treated Jack similarly to how he would later treat Peck and Shumackpock. Jack would later state that Wolcott “always beates [sic] him sometimes with 100 blows'' and that the effects of these beatings were so brutal that “he hath told his Master that he would sometimes or other hang himself” (Pynchon Court Record, p. 298–299).
In June of 1681, Jack took his freedom from Wolcott. At some point in the next week, he made his way through Southfield, where he stole a gun, but then left it in the woods because he realized that it did not have a flint in it and so would not fire.
About a week and a half after he left Wolcott, Jack came to the home of Anthony Dorchester (probably in Springfield), a miller who also ran a ferry across the Connecticut River. According to Dorchester, Jack entered and asked for tobacco. Dorchester told him there was some on the table, so Jack cut himself some, and, when Dorchester wasn’t looking, put the knife he used to cut the tobacco in his pocket. Dorchester then stated that Jack grabbed a cutlass (short sword) that was either on the wall or on a shelf and threatened Dorchester with it. Something went wrong with the cutlass (the statement says that it “came out stiff” which could mean perhaps that it was dull or that Jack had trouble removing it from its scabbard), and Dorchester was able to grab Jack, and his wife and daughter helped him to tie Jack up. Once Jack was tied up, Dorchester stated that he searched him and found the knife hidden in his pocket (Pynchon Court Record, p. 298–299).
Jack was jailed for this offense on July 1. Some historians have stated that he escaped from prison, but we have not seen a record explicitly confirming this. The record for the bills related to his imprisonment count two weeks of food and fees for “two dates and a halfe [sic] in time in looking after him.” The record is not specific as to what that means, but one interpretation could be that “looking after him” literally meant looking for him. If this is true, he would have probably escaped 10 or 11 days into his sentence.
On July 14, 1681, Jack set William Clark’s Northampton house on fire. He ran away, but was later caught and confessed to the crime. He told authorities that the fire was unintentional, that he had been looking for food and took the brand from the fireplace so that he could see better in the dark. However, even arson with no fatalities could be a capital offense, and his race probably did impact the severity of the judgment he received. He pleaded not guilty, but was found guilty and sentenced to death. He was hanged in Boston, and his body was then burned with a Black woman named Maria who had also been convicted of arson. (It is not clear whether Maria was alive or dead at the time of the fire).
Since Jack’s death, the story of the fire as an act of malice has been embellished considerably. A 1755 pamphlet recounting Jack’s crime included charges that he was “Instigated by the Divill [sic].” James Russell Trumbull, a major 19th-century historian of the Connecticut River Valley, described Jack and the crime as follows: “[Jack] was a vicious character…after stealing whatever he could lay his hands upon, he set the house on fire to conceal the robbery, or from spite against William Clarke” (History of Northampton, vol. 1, p. 376). Trumbull also told another version of the story, one that he said local “tradition has handed down.” In this version, Jack “fastened the door on the outside so that no one could escape, and set the fire on the outside. William Clarke injured his hands considerably (pounded them it is said) in his endeavor to escape, and his wife was somewhat burned. John Clarke, grandson of William, a little more than a year old, was brought out of the house and laid beside the fence…The negro had taken offence at something William Clarke had done in his official capacity, and set the fire in a spirit of revenge. He was...identified by means of a jack-knife in his possession that belonged to the Clarkes.” (History of Northampton, vol. 1, p. 377).
Both of Trumbull’s retellings hinge on Jack's targeting William Clark. It is unclear what “official capacity” Trumbull is referring to, but unless Clark was involved in Jack’s robbery trial (sources say that Clark did act as a judge at some point, though we do not know if he judged Jack), it is hard to think of what interactions Clark and Jack could have had.
The lack of specificity about any actual grudge Jack may have had against Clark highlights that the point of this story, as it was handed down, was Jack’s villainy, not the facts of the case. Trumbull’s stories may have had some origin in the actual facts of the fire, but the retellings are based on a racist interpretation of Jack’s actions. Trumbull and the pamphleteer both assumed that Jack’s actions were malicious, no doubt because of the color of his skin. It is also of note that Jack’s enslaved status is hardly mentioned.
We mention these stories here not because they are true, but because it was the local narrative. This is how white people around Northampton would have talked about Jack if they talked about him at all. And people were talking about him; Trumbull’s book was published in 1898, over 200 years after the fire. Even though Trumbull was probably reporting retellings from white sources, white people would not have been the only people listening. Black people who lived in town would have been hearing this tale—about what happened when a self-emancipated enslaved person came to Northampton—for centuries.
Note: at this point the Clark family spelled their name both with and without an “e” at the end. For clarity, we have used one spelling throughout this entry, except where the alternate spelling is used as part of a direct quote.
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Samuel Wolcott was a violent man. This was documented by Jack and by others. In 1690, Wolcott was charged with beating a servant, an Indigenous man named Shumackpock (Genealogies and Biographies of Ancient Wethersfield, p. 842). Also in 1690, Hugh Peck accused Wolcott of repeated brutal beatings, including one where Wolcott beat the boy with three sticks until Peck was “bruised and wounded him in a grievous maner [sic]”. The relationship between the two is unknown, but Peck referred to Wolcott as his “master” and was probably an indentured servant. The court took Peck away from Wolcott after Wolcott stated that he did not think he had done anything wrong and that if Peck was returned to him he would “beat him worse” (Early Connecticut Probate Records, 1635–1700, vol. 5, p. 524). This context is helpful in viewing what Jack said about Wolcott’s treatment of him, even though these charges were filed later.
Wolcott treated Jack similarly to how he would later treat Peck and Shumackpock. Jack would later state that Wolcott “always beates [sic] him sometimes with 100 blows'' and that the effects of these beatings were so brutal that “he hath told his Master that he would sometimes or other hang himself” (Pynchon Court Record, p. 298–299).
In June of 1681, Jack took his freedom from Wolcott. At some point in the next week, he made his way through Southfield, where he stole a gun, but then left it in the woods because he realized that it did not have a flint in it and so would not fire.
About a week and a half after he left Wolcott, Jack came to the home of Anthony Dorchester (probably in Springfield), a miller who also ran a ferry across the Connecticut River. According to Dorchester, Jack entered and asked for tobacco. Dorchester told him there was some on the table, so Jack cut himself some, and, when Dorchester wasn’t looking, put the knife he used to cut the tobacco in his pocket. Dorchester then stated that Jack grabbed a cutlass (short sword) that was either on the wall or on a shelf and threatened Dorchester with it. Something went wrong with the cutlass (the statement says that it “came out stiff” which could mean perhaps that it was dull or that Jack had trouble removing it from its scabbard), and Dorchester was able to grab Jack, and his wife and daughter helped him to tie Jack up. Once Jack was tied up, Dorchester stated that he searched him and found the knife hidden in his pocket (Pynchon Court Record, p. 298–299).
Jack was jailed for this offense on July 1. Some historians have stated that he escaped from prison, but we have not seen a record explicitly confirming this. The record for the bills related to his imprisonment count two weeks of food and fees for “two dates and a halfe [sic] in time in looking after him.” The record is not specific as to what that means, but one interpretation could be that “looking after him” literally meant looking for him. If this is true, he would have probably escaped 10 or 11 days into his sentence.
On July 14, 1681, Jack set William Clark’s Northampton house on fire. He ran away, but was later caught and confessed to the crime. He told authorities that the fire was unintentional, that he had been looking for food and took the brand from the fireplace so that he could see better in the dark. However, even arson with no fatalities could be a capital offense, and his race probably did impact the severity of the judgment he received. He pleaded not guilty, but was found guilty and sentenced to death. He was hanged in Boston, and his body was then burned with a Black woman named Maria who had also been convicted of arson. (It is not clear whether Maria was alive or dead at the time of the fire).
Since Jack’s death, the story of the fire as an act of malice has been embellished considerably. A 1755 pamphlet recounting Jack’s crime included charges that he was “Instigated by the Divill [sic].” James Russell Trumbull, a major 19th-century historian of the Connecticut River Valley, described Jack and the crime as follows: “[Jack] was a vicious character…after stealing whatever he could lay his hands upon, he set the house on fire to conceal the robbery, or from spite against William Clarke” (History of Northampton, vol. 1, p. 376). Trumbull also told another version of the story, one that he said local “tradition has handed down.” In this version, Jack “fastened the door on the outside so that no one could escape, and set the fire on the outside. William Clarke injured his hands considerably (pounded them it is said) in his endeavor to escape, and his wife was somewhat burned. John Clarke, grandson of William, a little more than a year old, was brought out of the house and laid beside the fence…The negro had taken offence at something William Clarke had done in his official capacity, and set the fire in a spirit of revenge. He was...identified by means of a jack-knife in his possession that belonged to the Clarkes.” (History of Northampton, vol. 1, p. 377).
Both of Trumbull’s retellings hinge on Jack's targeting William Clark. It is unclear what “official capacity” Trumbull is referring to, but unless Clark was involved in Jack’s robbery trial (sources say that Clark did act as a judge at some point, though we do not know if he judged Jack), it is hard to think of what interactions Clark and Jack could have had.
The lack of specificity about any actual grudge Jack may have had against Clark highlights that the point of this story, as it was handed down, was Jack’s villainy, not the facts of the case. Trumbull’s stories may have had some origin in the actual facts of the fire, but the retellings are based on a racist interpretation of Jack’s actions. Trumbull and the pamphleteer both assumed that Jack’s actions were malicious, no doubt because of the color of his skin. It is also of note that Jack’s enslaved status is hardly mentioned.
We mention these stories here not because they are true, but because it was the local narrative. This is how white people around Northampton would have talked about Jack if they talked about him at all. And people were talking about him; Trumbull’s book was published in 1898, over 200 years after the fire. Even though Trumbull was probably reporting retellings from white sources, white people would not have been the only people listening. Black people who lived in town would have been hearing this tale—about what happened when a self-emancipated enslaved person came to Northampton—for centuries.
Note: at this point the Clark family spelled their name both with and without an “e” at the end. For clarity, we have used one spelling throughout this entry, except where the alternate spelling is used as part of a direct quote.
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Josie
Josie was baptized August 31, 1735. The baptismal record listed her as a “servant” to Major Ebenezer Pomeroy. It is also noted in another entry that she was a member of the church in Northampton (First Church of Christ Records).
There is indication that Josie had an ailment of some sort. Sylvester Judd included the accounts of Dr. Crouch in one of his volumes. Under the entry for Ebenezer Pomeroy, Crouch wrote that he had “visited his negro woman” in 1737. Though he does not name the woman, it seems likely that he was referring to Josie. In 1737, he treated her with pills, mercury plaster, and lignum vitae. In 1738, he visited her 27 times, gave her more lignum vitae, and recorded “began her salivation.” It is not clear whether this refers to Josie's beginning to salivate as a side effect of being treated with mercury, or Dr. Crouch's attempting to induce excessive salivation through other means. In 1743 he sent pills to a Black woman at Ebenezer Pomeroy’s home, but Judd was unsure whether this was Josie, or another woman (Judd manuscript, “Medicines Including Dr. Crouch’s Practices,” p. 48).
In terms of what ailment Dr. Crouch may have been treating, it is hard to narrow down. Given the reference to both salivation and mercury, it seems that whatever disease Crouch was treating was one that he believed to have been caused by an excess of the humor phlegm, since that was the humor he was trying to remove. Lignum vitae, also known as the “tree of life,” was used as a remedy for many illnesses such as cough, arthritis, and syphilis.
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There is indication that Josie had an ailment of some sort. Sylvester Judd included the accounts of Dr. Crouch in one of his volumes. Under the entry for Ebenezer Pomeroy, Crouch wrote that he had “visited his negro woman” in 1737. Though he does not name the woman, it seems likely that he was referring to Josie. In 1737, he treated her with pills, mercury plaster, and lignum vitae. In 1738, he visited her 27 times, gave her more lignum vitae, and recorded “began her salivation.” It is not clear whether this refers to Josie's beginning to salivate as a side effect of being treated with mercury, or Dr. Crouch's attempting to induce excessive salivation through other means. In 1743 he sent pills to a Black woman at Ebenezer Pomeroy’s home, but Judd was unsure whether this was Josie, or another woman (Judd manuscript, “Medicines Including Dr. Crouch’s Practices,” p. 48).
In terms of what ailment Dr. Crouch may have been treating, it is hard to narrow down. Given the reference to both salivation and mercury, it seems that whatever disease Crouch was treating was one that he believed to have been caused by an excess of the humor phlegm, since that was the humor he was trying to remove. Lignum vitae, also known as the “tree of life,” was used as a remedy for many illnesses such as cough, arthritis, and syphilis.
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Leah
Leah was enslaved by Jonathan Edwards and his wife Sarah Pierrepont Edwards. Edwards referred to her as “my servant maid” in her baptismal record of April 11, 1736, and as “my servant” in the record of her church membership (First Church of Christ Records, section 2, p. 8).
Leah is mentioned in a letter from Sarah Pierrepont Edwards in 1744. She refers to the letter’s recipient as “constable” so it is either to William Bartlett or Benjamin Alvord. Pierrepont Edwards wrote to ask about payment, presumably of a debt, and ended the letter with a postscript “I and my Children give our Love to Leah.” Since there was no one named Leah in either the Bartlett or the Alvord family at this time, the Jonathan Edwards Center suggests that this Leah could be the woman that the Edwards family enslaved, and that she had either been hired out or sold to the family of the recipient. This brief mention could shed a light on the type of work Leah was doing in the Edwards home. That the missive is from both Pierrepont Edwards and the children could imply that she was primarily engaged in domestic work and childcare. The expression of affection also shows either Pierrepont Edwards' genuine emotion toward Leah, or the image of her emotion that she wanted to portray.
Historians have posited that she and Venus (see separate entry for Venus) may have been the same person, and that perhaps Edwards changed her name to Leah, or that she chose Leah on her entry into the church (Bailey, "From Goddess of Love to Unloved Wife: Naming Slaves and Redeeming Masters in Eighteenth-Century New England") and (Minkema, “Jonathan Edwards’ Defense of Slavery”).
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Leah is mentioned in a letter from Sarah Pierrepont Edwards in 1744. She refers to the letter’s recipient as “constable” so it is either to William Bartlett or Benjamin Alvord. Pierrepont Edwards wrote to ask about payment, presumably of a debt, and ended the letter with a postscript “I and my Children give our Love to Leah.” Since there was no one named Leah in either the Bartlett or the Alvord family at this time, the Jonathan Edwards Center suggests that this Leah could be the woman that the Edwards family enslaved, and that she had either been hired out or sold to the family of the recipient. This brief mention could shed a light on the type of work Leah was doing in the Edwards home. That the missive is from both Pierrepont Edwards and the children could imply that she was primarily engaged in domestic work and childcare. The expression of affection also shows either Pierrepont Edwards' genuine emotion toward Leah, or the image of her emotion that she wanted to portray.
Historians have posited that she and Venus (see separate entry for Venus) may have been the same person, and that perhaps Edwards changed her name to Leah, or that she chose Leah on her entry into the church (Bailey, "From Goddess of Love to Unloved Wife: Naming Slaves and Redeeming Masters in Eighteenth-Century New England") and (Minkema, “Jonathan Edwards’ Defense of Slavery”).
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Philemon Lee
Philemon Lee was a free Black man who was warned out of Northampton multiple times in the 1760s. We believe that he had light skin or a possible mixed-race heritage, as one legal filing referred to him as “mulatto.” Before he came to Northampton, he lived in Simsbury, CT, and his profession was listed as “laborer.” He was married to Bathsheba Hull.
Warning Out
To give background, “warnings out” or cautions were devices by which the board of selectmen controlled residency in the location the selectmen administered. The selectmen often did not give a reason in the text of their ruling, but the stated purpose of warnings out in general was to remove non-residents who required public support due to their economic circumstances. Officially, these warnings could only be given to people who were not residents of the given location. Unofficially, the warning-out policy was used even against people of color who were lawful residents of New England towns. In her book Unwelcome Americans: Living on the Margin in Early New England, Ruth Wallis Herndon recounts instances in the 1780s and ’90s where officials in Rhode Island making up warrants for warning out asked for lists of non-residents who had a reason to be warned out, and lists of people in town who were persons of color, regardless of whether or not they were residents.
Residency could be established in four ways:
Non-residents could live in towns for years without being warned out, but unless they fit one of the above criteria, no amount of time living within town limits would establish residency. If a non-resident’s circumstances changed (they got older and required care, became pregnant and were unemployed or unmarried, or were injured and required long-term medical attention), they could be warned out at any point.
A non-resident also could be warned out if their neighbors complained about their general behavior. This opened the door for already marginalized people to be expelled from New England towns.
Return to reading about Bathsheba Hull.
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Philemon’s Case
On June 18, 1766, a warrant was filed for Lee to be warned out of Northampton. This warrant was recorded in court records on August 26: “the following were warned to depart out of the said Town by Abner Barnard Constable to wit Philemon Lee on the fifth...and the said Abner certifies that Philemon Lee came here from Simsbury in Connecticut…” (Hampshire Council of Governments records, vol. 10, p. 6).
Lee refused to leave Northampton, despite being warned out. Since he had not left by April of 1767, the town had him removed from Northampton on April 27 of that year and taken back to Simsbury. (The large gap between warning him to leave and removing him would not have been that unusual, since in some places warnings out were handled only once annually.)
On May 1, 1767, Lee returned to Northampton. The selectmen of Northampton convened legal proceedings against him again. Because he had returned after being warned out, on August 18, 1767, they sent Lee to jail in Springfield, where he was kept for one week before being released on August 25, 1767, with his promise that he would never again return to Northampton.
On September 1, 1767, just one week later, Lee returned to Northampton. The selectmen initiated legal proceedings against him again, and he was removed from Northampton and sent to jail in Springfield for a second time on November 10, 1767. During these proceedings, Lee expressed “a Design and an Intention of obtaining an estate in Land in the Said Town of Northampton” (Hampshire Council of Governments records, vol. 10, p. 69).
We do not know exactly when Lee began a relationship with Bathsheba Hull, a free Black woman who lived in Northampton, but we know that they were married by 1768, so that suggests that their relationship began sometime during or before he was in the process of being warned out of Northampton. This presents one reason why he would so consistently return to a place he had been legally expelled from: his family lived there. Residency laws meant that even though Bathsheba was a lawful resident of Northampton, her husband was not (had their positions been reversed, her marrying him would have gained her residency in whatever place he was living). We also do not know what role Lee would have had in Hull’s legal proceedings with the town of Northampton over the ownership of her house. For more on this, see the entry on Bathsheba Hull.
Lee was released from jail on May 17, 1768, and again promised not to return to Northampton (Hampshire Council of Governments records, vol. 10, p. 80). As far as we know, this time he did not return. On the same day, Bathsheba Hull and her daughter Margaret, were warned out of Springfield (Hampshire Council of Governments records, vol. 10, p. 81). Since Hull and her daughter relocated to Springfield in the month Lee was released, it could suggest that the two events were related. If they knew he was going to be released soon, Bathsheba and Margaret Hull could have come to Springfield to meet him and start their lives in a new place, either in Springfield or another city that would allow Lee to buy property and become a resident. Otherwise, if Hull’s situation in Northampton had deteriorated considerably after her eviction, she could have come to Springfield to petition for his release as a support for his family, since, as a man, he would have more avenues of employment open to him than she did.
In the case of Lee and his family, the usual excuse for warning out non-residents may not have been the real reason. That is, the stated purpose of cautions and warnings out was to remove non-residents who, for economic reasons, would rely on town funds. It was common in the first caution, which was very brief, not to mention any reason why people were being warned out, but Lee had multiple cases brought against him by the selectmen of Northampton that required hearings, and nowhere in those hearings did anyone mention that he required any town support. Indeed, the only documented statement by Lee was that he wanted to buy land in Northampton, implying that he was in a financial position to do so, which would mean he probably did not require town support. This suggests that the reason for his being warned out of Northampton may have been racially motivated, and that it was this exact desire for property ownership that led the selectmen to desire his removal.
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To give background, “warnings out” or cautions were devices by which the board of selectmen controlled residency in the location the selectmen administered. The selectmen often did not give a reason in the text of their ruling, but the stated purpose of warnings out in general was to remove non-residents who required public support due to their economic circumstances. Officially, these warnings could only be given to people who were not residents of the given location. Unofficially, the warning-out policy was used even against people of color who were lawful residents of New England towns. In her book Unwelcome Americans: Living on the Margin in Early New England, Ruth Wallis Herndon recounts instances in the 1780s and ’90s where officials in Rhode Island making up warrants for warning out asked for lists of non-residents who had a reason to be warned out, and lists of people in town who were persons of color, regardless of whether or not they were residents.
Residency could be established in four ways:
- Being born in the town
- Serving out an apprenticeship or term of indenture there (This may also have been applied to enslaved persons.)
- Owning property in the town
- Marrying a man who was a resident in the town (At the time, this option was only open to women.)
Non-residents could live in towns for years without being warned out, but unless they fit one of the above criteria, no amount of time living within town limits would establish residency. If a non-resident’s circumstances changed (they got older and required care, became pregnant and were unemployed or unmarried, or were injured and required long-term medical attention), they could be warned out at any point.
A non-resident also could be warned out if their neighbors complained about their general behavior. This opened the door for already marginalized people to be expelled from New England towns.
Return to reading about Bathsheba Hull.
Return to reading about Margaret Hull.
Philemon’s Case
On June 18, 1766, a warrant was filed for Lee to be warned out of Northampton. This warrant was recorded in court records on August 26: “the following were warned to depart out of the said Town by Abner Barnard Constable to wit Philemon Lee on the fifth...and the said Abner certifies that Philemon Lee came here from Simsbury in Connecticut…” (Hampshire Council of Governments records, vol. 10, p. 6).
Lee refused to leave Northampton, despite being warned out. Since he had not left by April of 1767, the town had him removed from Northampton on April 27 of that year and taken back to Simsbury. (The large gap between warning him to leave and removing him would not have been that unusual, since in some places warnings out were handled only once annually.)
On May 1, 1767, Lee returned to Northampton. The selectmen of Northampton convened legal proceedings against him again. Because he had returned after being warned out, on August 18, 1767, they sent Lee to jail in Springfield, where he was kept for one week before being released on August 25, 1767, with his promise that he would never again return to Northampton.
On September 1, 1767, just one week later, Lee returned to Northampton. The selectmen initiated legal proceedings against him again, and he was removed from Northampton and sent to jail in Springfield for a second time on November 10, 1767. During these proceedings, Lee expressed “a Design and an Intention of obtaining an estate in Land in the Said Town of Northampton” (Hampshire Council of Governments records, vol. 10, p. 69).
We do not know exactly when Lee began a relationship with Bathsheba Hull, a free Black woman who lived in Northampton, but we know that they were married by 1768, so that suggests that their relationship began sometime during or before he was in the process of being warned out of Northampton. This presents one reason why he would so consistently return to a place he had been legally expelled from: his family lived there. Residency laws meant that even though Bathsheba was a lawful resident of Northampton, her husband was not (had their positions been reversed, her marrying him would have gained her residency in whatever place he was living). We also do not know what role Lee would have had in Hull’s legal proceedings with the town of Northampton over the ownership of her house. For more on this, see the entry on Bathsheba Hull.
Lee was released from jail on May 17, 1768, and again promised not to return to Northampton (Hampshire Council of Governments records, vol. 10, p. 80). As far as we know, this time he did not return. On the same day, Bathsheba Hull and her daughter Margaret, were warned out of Springfield (Hampshire Council of Governments records, vol. 10, p. 81). Since Hull and her daughter relocated to Springfield in the month Lee was released, it could suggest that the two events were related. If they knew he was going to be released soon, Bathsheba and Margaret Hull could have come to Springfield to meet him and start their lives in a new place, either in Springfield or another city that would allow Lee to buy property and become a resident. Otherwise, if Hull’s situation in Northampton had deteriorated considerably after her eviction, she could have come to Springfield to petition for his release as a support for his family, since, as a man, he would have more avenues of employment open to him than she did.
In the case of Lee and his family, the usual excuse for warning out non-residents may not have been the real reason. That is, the stated purpose of cautions and warnings out was to remove non-residents who, for economic reasons, would rely on town funds. It was common in the first caution, which was very brief, not to mention any reason why people were being warned out, but Lee had multiple cases brought against him by the selectmen of Northampton that required hearings, and nowhere in those hearings did anyone mention that he required any town support. Indeed, the only documented statement by Lee was that he wanted to buy land in Northampton, implying that he was in a financial position to do so, which would mean he probably did not require town support. This suggests that the reason for his being warned out of Northampton may have been racially motivated, and that it was this exact desire for property ownership that led the selectmen to desire his removal.
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Mingo
Mingo was a man who was enslaved by Samuel Parsons. Mingo may have been a nickname for Domingo. (A Spanish name could also indicate that he or a member of his family had previously been enslaved in a Spanish colony, but that is conjecture.)
In the early 1690s, he was charged twice with fornication with another enslaved person named Hannah. The second case would have been regarded as more serious, because this time Hannah became pregnant.
Sylvester Judd copied the record of this second court session on April 12, 1692. The notes are as follows: “she [Hannah] owned the fact [that she was guilty of fornication] and accused Mingo as the father of her child in open court...Mingo stood mute, yet there was sufficient evidence that he had owned that it was his child — and it being a heinous crime against the light of nature, the laws of god + man, & provoking evil in the sight of God + which so much abound among us, especially in such ignorant ones, rendering themselves like brutish beasts, which, if not suppressed + restrained, such wicked practices will abound to the reproach of all religion” (Judd manuscript). Both Mingo and Hannah were sentenced to 15 lashes on their naked bodies.
This is not a typical judgment in a Hampshire County fornication case. Most often, the father of the child would not be named, only the woman would face punishment, and there was none of the moralizing that is seen here about the evil effects of fornication. Both Mingo and Hannah were sentenced to 15 lashes on their naked bodies.
Since both Mingo and Hannah were enslaved (Mingo was enslaved by Samuel Parsons), their child would have been born into slavery. After deciding the punishment for fornication, the same court session decided the manner of which man, Parsons or Baker (Hannah’s enslaver), would enslave Mingo and Hannah’s child. The decision was reached that Parsons and Baker would be “joint + equal in charge of the child” until the child was nine years old. When the child was nine, either Parsons or Baker would pay the other half the value that they assigned to the child, thus taking full ownership, or they would have a “joint + equal property in said child, the value whereof to be divided betwixt them.” Dividing the value implies the intent either to hire out the child and split the wages, or to sell the child away from their family and split the profit (Judd manuscript, Hampshire Matters, p. 182).
In the early 1690s, he was charged twice with fornication with another enslaved person named Hannah. The second case would have been regarded as more serious, because this time Hannah became pregnant.
Sylvester Judd copied the record of this second court session on April 12, 1692. The notes are as follows: “she [Hannah] owned the fact [that she was guilty of fornication] and accused Mingo as the father of her child in open court...Mingo stood mute, yet there was sufficient evidence that he had owned that it was his child — and it being a heinous crime against the light of nature, the laws of god + man, & provoking evil in the sight of God + which so much abound among us, especially in such ignorant ones, rendering themselves like brutish beasts, which, if not suppressed + restrained, such wicked practices will abound to the reproach of all religion” (Judd manuscript). Both Mingo and Hannah were sentenced to 15 lashes on their naked bodies.
This is not a typical judgment in a Hampshire County fornication case. Most often, the father of the child would not be named, only the woman would face punishment, and there was none of the moralizing that is seen here about the evil effects of fornication. Both Mingo and Hannah were sentenced to 15 lashes on their naked bodies.
Since both Mingo and Hannah were enslaved (Mingo was enslaved by Samuel Parsons), their child would have been born into slavery. After deciding the punishment for fornication, the same court session decided the manner of which man, Parsons or Baker (Hannah’s enslaver), would enslave Mingo and Hannah’s child. The decision was reached that Parsons and Baker would be “joint + equal in charge of the child” until the child was nine years old. When the child was nine, either Parsons or Baker would pay the other half the value that they assigned to the child, thus taking full ownership, or they would have a “joint + equal property in said child, the value whereof to be divided betwixt them.” Dividing the value implies the intent either to hire out the child and split the wages, or to sell the child away from their family and split the profit (Judd manuscript, Hampshire Matters, p. 182).
At some point after this court case, Samuel Parsons moved to Springfield and Mingo moved with him. Samuel Parsons appears to have enslaved Mingo for the remainder of Parsons’ life, as Mingo was mentioned in Parsons’ will. The will, dated September 5, 1724, asked that Parsons’ four sons “shall Take care of...my Aged Negro Man Named Mingo & his wife” (The Parsons Family: Descendants of Cornet Joseph Parsons (c. 1618–1683), compiled by Gerald James Parsons, p. 323). We do not know the name of Mingo’s wife, or what became of his child with Hannah.
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Moidore
Moidore (also known as Midah, Moydor, and Midor) was enslaved by Caleb Strong. In The Northampton Book, Edwin C. Rozwenc wrote that he was an “accomplished fiddler who was taken along on picnics and parties.” James Russell Trumbull recorded a similar account of Moidore as a fiddler and said that he also worked in Strong’s tannery.
Judd wrote about Moidore, calling him Midah, “a likely negro who worked many years for Lt. Caleb Strong in his tannery, was the fidler [sic]...He settled in Worcester [?] + acquired property.”
There are two contemporary records that allude to Moidore. In 1749, the accounts of Ebenezer Hunt list Caleb Strong as purchasing a “castor hat” for “his negro Moidore.” This would refer to a hat that was either made of wool, or a mixture of wool and fur, such as rabbit fur (Judd manuscript, Northampton MA Prices and Account Books, p. 32). Northampton tax records for 1756 list Caleb Strong as enslaving one person, but do not list the name of the person. This may have been Moidore (Northampton Town Papers Whiting Street Fund, Tax Assessors 1703–1884, 1706–1791 Tax Valuations).
Records from Barre, Massachusetts (in Worcester County), have yielded potential records that could be tied to Moidore. These records refer to one Moidore Hillhouse, who married Rebekah Oliver in 1781 in Barre. The Barre record refers to Hillhouse’s previous residence as Templeton, Massachusetts, which does not preclude him living in Northampton prior to a residency in Templeton. Hillhouse purchased 30 acres of land in Barre, developed one section of it, and built a log house there. He died in the early19th century, with no known heirs. After his death, Rebekah remarried Samuel Jones, who moved onto the land and developed it more. However, since Moidore Hillhouse died with no will, two-thirds of the land (excepting Rebekah’s dower portion) would automatically have become the property of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Not wanting to lose the land, Jones made a petition to the state in 1808 to be allowed to assume ownership, which appears to have been granted. A similar petition was filed in 1837 by a man named Prince Morris. Samuel Jones had also died without an heir, and so Morris staked a claim to the land on behalf of his wife, Rebecca Morris, who was Rebekah Oliver Jones’ niece. However, without a will or a widow, the land would normally descend through the male line, so this petition does not seem to have been granted.
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Judd wrote about Moidore, calling him Midah, “a likely negro who worked many years for Lt. Caleb Strong in his tannery, was the fidler [sic]...He settled in Worcester [?] + acquired property.”
There are two contemporary records that allude to Moidore. In 1749, the accounts of Ebenezer Hunt list Caleb Strong as purchasing a “castor hat” for “his negro Moidore.” This would refer to a hat that was either made of wool, or a mixture of wool and fur, such as rabbit fur (Judd manuscript, Northampton MA Prices and Account Books, p. 32). Northampton tax records for 1756 list Caleb Strong as enslaving one person, but do not list the name of the person. This may have been Moidore (Northampton Town Papers Whiting Street Fund, Tax Assessors 1703–1884, 1706–1791 Tax Valuations).
Records from Barre, Massachusetts (in Worcester County), have yielded potential records that could be tied to Moidore. These records refer to one Moidore Hillhouse, who married Rebekah Oliver in 1781 in Barre. The Barre record refers to Hillhouse’s previous residence as Templeton, Massachusetts, which does not preclude him living in Northampton prior to a residency in Templeton. Hillhouse purchased 30 acres of land in Barre, developed one section of it, and built a log house there. He died in the early19th century, with no known heirs. After his death, Rebekah remarried Samuel Jones, who moved onto the land and developed it more. However, since Moidore Hillhouse died with no will, two-thirds of the land (excepting Rebekah’s dower portion) would automatically have become the property of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Not wanting to lose the land, Jones made a petition to the state in 1808 to be allowed to assume ownership, which appears to have been granted. A similar petition was filed in 1837 by a man named Prince Morris. Samuel Jones had also died without an heir, and so Morris staked a claim to the land on behalf of his wife, Rebecca Morris, who was Rebekah Oliver Jones’ niece. However, without a will or a widow, the land would normally descend through the male line, so this petition does not seem to have been granted.
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Paul
Paul was a child in Northampton who was indentured to John Wait of Southampton sometime in the 1770s, but the exact date is not written on the record.
The text of the indenture is as follows, “bind a certain Poor Child named Paul the son of Lydia a Negro Woman living in Sd. town of Northampton to be apprentice to John Wait of Southampton in sd. County with him to dwell & live from the day of the date hereof until the sd. apprentice shall arrive to the full age of twenty one years.” The indenture also states that Paul would be an “Apprentice in the art of husbandry” (Northampton Overseers of the Poor records, bundle 2, box 5.15).
At this time, some towns petitioned for court permission to place children of families who were on public support in indentured servitude. This could be done against the will of the parents if the justices agreed. For another case of children being placed in indentured servitude, see the entry for Asaph Hull. (Also see “The Transformation of the Law of Poverty in Eighteenth-Century Massachusetts” by Douglas Lamar Jones.) There is another case similar to this one shortly after the scope of this project. Triphenia Danforth (or Danford) was a 12-year-old girl who was indentured to Solomon Stoddard Jr. in 1803. The indenture stated that she would serve until her 14th birthday, and while serving, Stoddard would provide meals, lodging, clothing, and some education (Northampton Overseers of the Poor records).
We do not know Paul’s exact age, but since he was being indentured for an apprenticeship, he may have been seven years old or older. However, selectmen did sometimes place children under seven in indentured servitude. In the Lamar paper referenced above, he writes about a case where a town tried to bind out (meaning place in indentured servitude) twins who were two years old.
The indenture also does not give the surname of Paul’s mother, but since they give her first name as Lydia, it is possible that she was Lydia Hill, who we know was on town support in the 1770s. (See entry for Lydia Hill.) Hill died in 1778, so it is possible that her death was the reason Paul was indentured. It is also possible that her being placed on town support was the reason given for Paul’s indenture.
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The text of the indenture is as follows, “bind a certain Poor Child named Paul the son of Lydia a Negro Woman living in Sd. town of Northampton to be apprentice to John Wait of Southampton in sd. County with him to dwell & live from the day of the date hereof until the sd. apprentice shall arrive to the full age of twenty one years.” The indenture also states that Paul would be an “Apprentice in the art of husbandry” (Northampton Overseers of the Poor records, bundle 2, box 5.15).
At this time, some towns petitioned for court permission to place children of families who were on public support in indentured servitude. This could be done against the will of the parents if the justices agreed. For another case of children being placed in indentured servitude, see the entry for Asaph Hull. (Also see “The Transformation of the Law of Poverty in Eighteenth-Century Massachusetts” by Douglas Lamar Jones.) There is another case similar to this one shortly after the scope of this project. Triphenia Danforth (or Danford) was a 12-year-old girl who was indentured to Solomon Stoddard Jr. in 1803. The indenture stated that she would serve until her 14th birthday, and while serving, Stoddard would provide meals, lodging, clothing, and some education (Northampton Overseers of the Poor records).
We do not know Paul’s exact age, but since he was being indentured for an apprenticeship, he may have been seven years old or older. However, selectmen did sometimes place children under seven in indentured servitude. In the Lamar paper referenced above, he writes about a case where a town tried to bind out (meaning place in indentured servitude) twins who were two years old.
The indenture also does not give the surname of Paul’s mother, but since they give her first name as Lydia, it is possible that she was Lydia Hill, who we know was on town support in the 1770s. (See entry for Lydia Hill.) Hill died in 1778, so it is possible that her death was the reason Paul was indentured. It is also possible that her being placed on town support was the reason given for Paul’s indenture.
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Peter
Peter was enslaved by Joseph and Mercy Bartlett. He was given his freedom in Joseph Bartlett’s will of 1754. After he gained his freedom at Joseph Bartlett’s death in 1755, he was employed by Mercy Bartlett, who survived her husband and later left Peter property in her own will.
Peter and Dinah, the other enslaved person freed in Joseph Bartlet’s will, were two out of only three people mentioned in Mercy Bartlett’s will. The third was Mary Kingsley, presumably a friend, to whom Mercy left the balance of the estate. The only other entity who inherited anything was the church, to which Mercy left one silver cup.
In Mercy Bartlett’s will, Peter was left the bed he slept on and furniture he used, an ax, a scythe, a one-eyed horse, four swine, four sheep, a gun, a pair of hatchets, one candlestick, one quart basin, one pewter spoon, 11 yards of plain cloth, a saddle and bridle, one great chair, and one small chair (Probate record of Mercy Bartlett, 1759).
The items Peter inherited could indicate the type of work that he was doing while enslaved and later employed by the Bartletts. The hatchets and farm animals could suggest he was doing farm and caretaker work in the Bartlett home.
The probate record also suggests that, though he may have had furniture he used, he had no real space of his own. Probate records were often grouped by the room they were in, not by type of item. In Mercy Bartlett’s probate record, one trundle bedstead is separate from the rest of the bedding. The objects immediately surrounding it (old baskets, a side saddle, old bags) suggest that the bed was in a storage space. Also suggestive: the items following these are livestock: pigs and horses. This suggests that Peter slept either in a storage room or in the barn.
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Peter and Dinah, the other enslaved person freed in Joseph Bartlet’s will, were two out of only three people mentioned in Mercy Bartlett’s will. The third was Mary Kingsley, presumably a friend, to whom Mercy left the balance of the estate. The only other entity who inherited anything was the church, to which Mercy left one silver cup.
In Mercy Bartlett’s will, Peter was left the bed he slept on and furniture he used, an ax, a scythe, a one-eyed horse, four swine, four sheep, a gun, a pair of hatchets, one candlestick, one quart basin, one pewter spoon, 11 yards of plain cloth, a saddle and bridle, one great chair, and one small chair (Probate record of Mercy Bartlett, 1759).
The items Peter inherited could indicate the type of work that he was doing while enslaved and later employed by the Bartletts. The hatchets and farm animals could suggest he was doing farm and caretaker work in the Bartlett home.
The probate record also suggests that, though he may have had furniture he used, he had no real space of his own. Probate records were often grouped by the room they were in, not by type of item. In Mercy Bartlett’s probate record, one trundle bedstead is separate from the rest of the bedding. The objects immediately surrounding it (old baskets, a side saddle, old bags) suggest that the bed was in a storage space. Also suggestive: the items following these are livestock: pigs and horses. This suggests that Peter slept either in a storage room or in the barn.
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Phillis
Phillis was born in 1765 and was enslaved in Hadley by the Phelps family. Phillis’ mother was named Peg. Peg was sold away from Phillis and her sister Rose in 1772 to Captain Fay in Bennington, VT, so that she could marry Pomp, who was also being sold to Capt. Fay (Entangled Lives by Marla Miller, p. 58).
Phillis is mentioned as being treated for an illness several times in Elizabeth Porter Phelps’ diary. On January 1, 1775, Phelps wrote, “Wednesday I went down to the Doct. With Phillis our Negro Girl— she poorly. Oh Lord be her Phesician [sic] for soul and body, may she not Die till by faith she has seen the Lords [sic] Christ may her Life be lengthened out if it may be thy Will.” It is not clear if this is the same doctor that is mentioned in February 26 entry: “Monday my husband carried Phillis to Northampton to Docter [sic] Mather—she very much swelled.”
Phillis died on April 16, 1775, likely from tuberculosis. Phelps wrote, “Fryday [sic] Morning a Little after eight our poor little Phillis left this world. O if she is gone to Bliss…pray Father Sanctify it to us all… Satterday [sic] We attended her Funeral.”
During the time of Phillis’ illness, her sister Rose was pregnant. After Phillis died, Rose named her newborn daughter Phillis (Miller, p. 58).
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Phillis is mentioned as being treated for an illness several times in Elizabeth Porter Phelps’ diary. On January 1, 1775, Phelps wrote, “Wednesday I went down to the Doct. With Phillis our Negro Girl— she poorly. Oh Lord be her Phesician [sic] for soul and body, may she not Die till by faith she has seen the Lords [sic] Christ may her Life be lengthened out if it may be thy Will.” It is not clear if this is the same doctor that is mentioned in February 26 entry: “Monday my husband carried Phillis to Northampton to Docter [sic] Mather—she very much swelled.”
Phillis died on April 16, 1775, likely from tuberculosis. Phelps wrote, “Fryday [sic] Morning a Little after eight our poor little Phillis left this world. O if she is gone to Bliss…pray Father Sanctify it to us all… Satterday [sic] We attended her Funeral.”
During the time of Phillis’ illness, her sister Rose was pregnant. After Phillis died, Rose named her newborn daughter Phillis (Miller, p. 58).
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Abijah Prince
Abijah Prince was born around 1706 and enslaved by Reverend Benjamin Doolittle of Northfield, MA, from around the age of 12. Prince eventually gained his freedom, then lived in Northampton for two years. After he left Northampton, he married a woman named Lucy Terry, had children, and lived most of his life throughout the Connecticut River Valley area and southern Vermont. Abijah Prince appears in records under several notations: Abijah, Abijah a Free Negro, Abijah Negro, and Abijah Freeman.
There has been extensive research done on Prince by Gretchen Holbrook Gerzina for her book Mr. and Mrs. Prince: How an Extraordinary Eighteenth-Century Family Moved Out of Slavery and Into Legend. Like Agrippa Hull, Prince is someone whose life has been documented at book length, so this report does not function as a record of all of the knowledge we are aware of about his life, but contains a brief summary of his life. We recommend consulting the above book for a more comprehensive account.
Prince was enslaved by Rev. Benjamin Doolittle and his wife Lydia Todd, who first lived in Wallingford, CT, and then moved to Northfield, MA. Prince knew how to read and write and was taught other skills, probably by the Doolittle family. Prince’s life in Northfield would have been racially isolated, as the town was still in its infancy and he was likely the only Black person living in the town.
In 1747, Prince enlisted in Captain Elijah Williams’ company in Deerfield to fight in King George’s War. After his service ended, he stayed with Williams in Deerfield, working in the community by doing repairs, running errands, and other tasks. While in Deerfield, Prince learned that Northfield was about to allot parcels of land but that only legal, free residents could acquire the land. Scholar Holbrook Gerzina believes that before enlisting Prince had previously arranged for a man named Aaron Burt to purchase him from Doolittle, with the understanding that Prince would be freed, either by paying his military salary or some other agreement. Burt did grant Prince his freedom and Prince was then able to apply to eventually receive a parcel of land.
Prince then moved to Northampton, MA, in 1752 and stayed in town for two years. He worked for church deacon and hatter Ebenezer Hunt and lived with Amos Hull, also a formerly enslaved man, and his wife (see entries for The Hull family). He had hopes of working toward a new life for himself. Northampton was far more racially diverse than any of his previous residences, so Prince was able to form connections with other black people, especially free men like himself. He may have even felt like he had a self-made family by staying with the Hulls. He gained insight from the black community in town for how to establish oneself as a free man, in particular how to obtain property and make a living. He also learned about legal self-defense through a man named Ralph Way of Hadley. Way was a well-established free black man who frequently went to court to recover money owed to him or to dispute charges against him. Prince formed a close connection to Way and perhaps saw him as a role model for the life he might be able to build.
After leaving Northampton, Prince met Lucy Terry and the two married on May 17, 1756.
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There has been extensive research done on Prince by Gretchen Holbrook Gerzina for her book Mr. and Mrs. Prince: How an Extraordinary Eighteenth-Century Family Moved Out of Slavery and Into Legend. Like Agrippa Hull, Prince is someone whose life has been documented at book length, so this report does not function as a record of all of the knowledge we are aware of about his life, but contains a brief summary of his life. We recommend consulting the above book for a more comprehensive account.
Prince was enslaved by Rev. Benjamin Doolittle and his wife Lydia Todd, who first lived in Wallingford, CT, and then moved to Northfield, MA. Prince knew how to read and write and was taught other skills, probably by the Doolittle family. Prince’s life in Northfield would have been racially isolated, as the town was still in its infancy and he was likely the only Black person living in the town.
In 1747, Prince enlisted in Captain Elijah Williams’ company in Deerfield to fight in King George’s War. After his service ended, he stayed with Williams in Deerfield, working in the community by doing repairs, running errands, and other tasks. While in Deerfield, Prince learned that Northfield was about to allot parcels of land but that only legal, free residents could acquire the land. Scholar Holbrook Gerzina believes that before enlisting Prince had previously arranged for a man named Aaron Burt to purchase him from Doolittle, with the understanding that Prince would be freed, either by paying his military salary or some other agreement. Burt did grant Prince his freedom and Prince was then able to apply to eventually receive a parcel of land.
Prince then moved to Northampton, MA, in 1752 and stayed in town for two years. He worked for church deacon and hatter Ebenezer Hunt and lived with Amos Hull, also a formerly enslaved man, and his wife (see entries for The Hull family). He had hopes of working toward a new life for himself. Northampton was far more racially diverse than any of his previous residences, so Prince was able to form connections with other black people, especially free men like himself. He may have even felt like he had a self-made family by staying with the Hulls. He gained insight from the black community in town for how to establish oneself as a free man, in particular how to obtain property and make a living. He also learned about legal self-defense through a man named Ralph Way of Hadley. Way was a well-established free black man who frequently went to court to recover money owed to him or to dispute charges against him. Prince formed a close connection to Way and perhaps saw him as a role model for the life he might be able to build.
After leaving Northampton, Prince met Lucy Terry and the two married on May 17, 1756.
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Robert
Robert was a Black man referred to as “Robert Negro” in two cases tried in the Inferior Court session at Northampton on November 10, 1767. These records refer to Robert as a laborer by profession who lived in Hadley, MA.
In the first case, Robert was accused of breaking and entering into John Strickland’s house on October 25, 1767. Also in residence in the house were John Clark, his wife (unnamed in the record), and his daughter, Mary Clark. Once in the house, Robert was accused of “being in the same house with the intent to commit fornication with and have carnal knowledge of the said Mary Clark then being in Bed in the said house.” Robert was not charged by Strickland or the Clarks, but by the representatives of the Crown’s government in Massachusetts (Hampshire Council of Governments, Inferior Court of Common Pleas, vol. 10, p. 69).
In the second case, Robert was charged with an almost identical offense. This charge stated that on October 24, 1767, he broke into a “mansion house” in Hadley belonging to Charles Phelps. In the house were Charles Phelps Jr., Dorothy Phelps, and Abigail Phelps. The charge stated that Robert entered the house “with intent to commit fornication with and have carnal knowledge of the body of the said Dorothy and the said Abigail” (Hampshire Council of Governments, Inferior Court of Common Pleas, vol. 10, p. 69–70).
By the time of the trial, Robert had been imprisoned in Springfield and was brought to Northampton for the trial. He was prosecuted by John Worthington, the King’s counsel.
In both cases, Robert said that he would “not contend,” which appears to mean that he would not contest the charges. He was sentenced to be whipped 10 lashes (the verdict specifies that they be “laid on well”) for each offense, and that he pay considerable court costs: £3 17s 11p in the first case, and £3 10s 11p. According to the U.K. National Archives currency converter, the first fine would have been the equivalent of $460, and the second would have been the equivalent of $419, for a total of $859 in 2022 currency. The National Archives converter also states that, combined, the fees would be the equivalent of 43 days’ labor. This is a large fine, but is not unprecedented for cases of theft or assault, which often incurred heavy fines.
With a court record that includes so little testimony, it is hard to pin down exactly what events prompted the case. One point of interest is that Robert was charged with breaking into the houses and having an intent to “have carnal knowledge of” one or more female occupants, but is not charged with assault or rape. One explanation for this could be that he was in fact invited by the female occupants. If this were the case, the charges of breaking and entering could relate to the fact that the home did not belong to the women in question, and that the homeowners did not give Robert permission to be there. However, taking the record at face value, it is also possible that it was a break-in, and Robert was caught before he committed assault, but that he made some kind of statement later that revealed his intentions on entering the house. Even if he did break into the house, it is also possible that he did not intend to assault its occupants, and that intention was something that the people who charged him assumed about him.
It is worth considering the privilege involved in this story. The Phelps family was one of the most prominent in Hadley, living, as the record states, in a “mansion house.” Their power could have come into play at several points. If Robert was, in fact, an invited guest of either Dorothy or Abigail Phelps, then adding the breaking and entering charge could be less about the actual ownership of the house, and more about shielding the reputation of Dorothy and Abigail at the request of Charles. If Robert was not invited in, embroidering a more sinister intention onto a break-in at a wealthy family’s home could also be a way to impose a more severe punishment and satisfy that family. Though some theft cases were punished with corporal punishment, not all were. They could have simply fined Robert, but adding a sexual-assault motivation made it much more likely that a fine would not be considered sufficient.
A coincidence implied by the court records is that Robert would have been in the courthouse at the same time as another subject of this research project, Philemon Lee. (See entry for Philemon Lee.) One of Lee’s cases for refusing to leave Northampton was tried in the same court session directly after Robert’s cases, so it is probable that the two men would have seen each other. However, they would be exchanging places, with Robert coming from jail, and Lee leaving to go to jail.
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In the first case, Robert was accused of breaking and entering into John Strickland’s house on October 25, 1767. Also in residence in the house were John Clark, his wife (unnamed in the record), and his daughter, Mary Clark. Once in the house, Robert was accused of “being in the same house with the intent to commit fornication with and have carnal knowledge of the said Mary Clark then being in Bed in the said house.” Robert was not charged by Strickland or the Clarks, but by the representatives of the Crown’s government in Massachusetts (Hampshire Council of Governments, Inferior Court of Common Pleas, vol. 10, p. 69).
In the second case, Robert was charged with an almost identical offense. This charge stated that on October 24, 1767, he broke into a “mansion house” in Hadley belonging to Charles Phelps. In the house were Charles Phelps Jr., Dorothy Phelps, and Abigail Phelps. The charge stated that Robert entered the house “with intent to commit fornication with and have carnal knowledge of the body of the said Dorothy and the said Abigail” (Hampshire Council of Governments, Inferior Court of Common Pleas, vol. 10, p. 69–70).
By the time of the trial, Robert had been imprisoned in Springfield and was brought to Northampton for the trial. He was prosecuted by John Worthington, the King’s counsel.
In both cases, Robert said that he would “not contend,” which appears to mean that he would not contest the charges. He was sentenced to be whipped 10 lashes (the verdict specifies that they be “laid on well”) for each offense, and that he pay considerable court costs: £3 17s 11p in the first case, and £3 10s 11p. According to the U.K. National Archives currency converter, the first fine would have been the equivalent of $460, and the second would have been the equivalent of $419, for a total of $859 in 2022 currency. The National Archives converter also states that, combined, the fees would be the equivalent of 43 days’ labor. This is a large fine, but is not unprecedented for cases of theft or assault, which often incurred heavy fines.
With a court record that includes so little testimony, it is hard to pin down exactly what events prompted the case. One point of interest is that Robert was charged with breaking into the houses and having an intent to “have carnal knowledge of” one or more female occupants, but is not charged with assault or rape. One explanation for this could be that he was in fact invited by the female occupants. If this were the case, the charges of breaking and entering could relate to the fact that the home did not belong to the women in question, and that the homeowners did not give Robert permission to be there. However, taking the record at face value, it is also possible that it was a break-in, and Robert was caught before he committed assault, but that he made some kind of statement later that revealed his intentions on entering the house. Even if he did break into the house, it is also possible that he did not intend to assault its occupants, and that intention was something that the people who charged him assumed about him.
It is worth considering the privilege involved in this story. The Phelps family was one of the most prominent in Hadley, living, as the record states, in a “mansion house.” Their power could have come into play at several points. If Robert was, in fact, an invited guest of either Dorothy or Abigail Phelps, then adding the breaking and entering charge could be less about the actual ownership of the house, and more about shielding the reputation of Dorothy and Abigail at the request of Charles. If Robert was not invited in, embroidering a more sinister intention onto a break-in at a wealthy family’s home could also be a way to impose a more severe punishment and satisfy that family. Though some theft cases were punished with corporal punishment, not all were. They could have simply fined Robert, but adding a sexual-assault motivation made it much more likely that a fine would not be considered sufficient.
A coincidence implied by the court records is that Robert would have been in the courthouse at the same time as another subject of this research project, Philemon Lee. (See entry for Philemon Lee.) One of Lee’s cases for refusing to leave Northampton was tried in the same court session directly after Robert’s cases, so it is probable that the two men would have seen each other. However, they would be exchanging places, with Robert coming from jail, and Lee leaving to go to jail.
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