Promise and Prejudice:
Nineteenth Century African-American Life in Boston
OverviewNineteenth Century African-American Life in Boston
Nineteenth-century African-American residents of Boston lived lives characterized by both promise and prejudice. Economically, many families struggled, although it was not unusual for black Bostonians to own homes or businesses. While many of Boston's black community lived in the area of Beacon Hill, blacks and whites mixed in some occupations and neighborhoods. Ships' crews often contained both white and black sailors, for example, and African-Americans formed the majority of dockside merchants who sold clothing, (often used), to seamen. This access to sailors working in the coastal trade allowed members of the black community to smuggle messages and rebellious literature to enslaved blacks in the south.
The most prominent among these was a small book entitled David Walker's Appeal … to the COLOURED CITIZENS OF THE WORLD. Written in 1829 by an African-American resident of Brattle Street, this tract refuted the negative characterizations of blacks contained in Thomas Jefferson's Notes on the State of Virginia, and used language from the Declaration of Independence to encourage slaves to declare their independence by breaking free from their masters, by force if necessary. Owners of Walker's book, whether white or black, faced the death penalty in some Southern states.
The issue of slavery and its abolition was controversial among Boston whites. Bostonians William Lloyd Garrison, Francis Jackson and other leading abolitionists publicly advocated their view with great passion. However, as the Civil War grew closer, discussions of abolition grew less palatable to conservative Bostonians. The City Council increasingly refused abolitionists permission to hold meetings in public buildings such as Faneuil Hall, perhaps fearing riots by those who opposed the abolitionists' stance. The Council passed a resolution in 1851 vowing to uphold the Constitution and enforce the Fugitive Slave Law; copies of the resolution were sent to the President. In 1861, the Council unanimously endorsed state legislation that would strip from the Massachusetts statutes any provision that could offend any other state in an attempt to repair relations with the South.
Of course, the Northern economy relied on its textile mills. Mill owners employed thousands of workers and bought goods and services from local businesses and tradesmen, as well as supporting the local tax base. But it was Southern cotton, grown by slaves, that fed the mills: Southern cotton, grown by slaves that was spun into the thread and woven into the cloth. War with the South would disrupt that supply and the Massachusetts economy with it. So while the lives and rights of the millions of Africans in the South might prick their consciences, preserving the Union, (and thus an uninterrupted flow of cotton), was for many Northerners a primary concern.
And white Boston was accustomed to the idea of differential treatment of their African-American neighbors. Until the mid-19th century, Boston's city directories (listings of local residents and businesses, similar to modern telephone books) contained separate section for whites and blacks. Boston only began providing public schooling for children of African descent after Abiel Smith, a wealthy white merchant, left money in his will for the purpose, which was used in 1834 to build the Smith School. Despite repeated protests by members of the black community against segregated schools, it took an 1855 act of the state legislature to integrate Boston's schools.
Yet in many ways African-American Bostonians were not so different than most citizens of the city. They voted, owned property and paid taxes; their petitions to city government were considered and approved; and they watched with pride as their city celebrated the end of slavery in the United States by ringing every bell in Boston. Prejudice, surely. But promise as well, a promise that has been slow in being kept.
©2009 The City of Boston