Old Meeting House |
Friday, November 22, 2013
The cemetery
Friday, November 15, 2013
The hand made bricks
By the second day of demolition, the cellar at Yarrow's property was exposed. This picture looks at the southwest, back corner. It looks as though the back wall of the cellar, which is to the left, is lined with machine made bricks. The ones on the far wall look different. They appear to be hand made. This is what the concern has been about all along, that these bricks may have been made by Yarrow Mamout. Previous posts on this blog have a picture of bricks from the same wall but taken from outside the cellar several several years ago. That picture was sent to an archaeologist who said it showed hand made bricks and suggested the cellar, at least this part, pre-dated the house. This is the reason for thinking these bricks might have been made by Yarrow. To enlarge the picture, just click on it, or you can download it to your photo editing software and then enlarge it.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
No Preservation for Yarrow's Property
Demolition equipment moved onto Yarrow's property on November 12 and began tearing down the house as reported in the Georgetowner.
With that, any hope for archaeological inspection of the property is apparently gone. It's a curious result. If you read the quotes in the Georgetowner article and indeed if you follow what happened, the city seems interested in saving buildings but not history. Lost was an unprecedented opportunity to use archaeology to study how a slave from Africa adapted to life in the United States and how the man in Peale's wonderful portrait lived.
Yarrow wasn't just a freed slave as the Georgetowner article labels him. He was a man who came from Africa on one of those terrible slave ships. And he didn't merely get out of slavery, he prospered. (Saying he was "freed" sounds like it was something that Africans needed to earn). He saved enough money to buy this lot in Georgetown. That was highly unusual. He learned the rules in America, buying bank stock and loaning money to white merchants in Georgetown. He was a black Ben Hur in going from slavery to status. He was so prominent that no less an artist than the great Charles Willson Peale painted his portrait -- for free. And four generations later, one of his family went to Harvard. There was no reason to save this building, which was put on the property after he died. There was reason to let archaeologists onto the property before this happened to see how he lived, but that wasn't done. Joni Mitchell warned about such things in her song, Big Yellow Taxi. "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got till it's gone."
With that, any hope for archaeological inspection of the property is apparently gone. It's a curious result. If you read the quotes in the Georgetowner article and indeed if you follow what happened, the city seems interested in saving buildings but not history. Lost was an unprecedented opportunity to use archaeology to study how a slave from Africa adapted to life in the United States and how the man in Peale's wonderful portrait lived.
Yarrow wasn't just a freed slave as the Georgetowner article labels him. He was a man who came from Africa on one of those terrible slave ships. And he didn't merely get out of slavery, he prospered. (Saying he was "freed" sounds like it was something that Africans needed to earn). He saved enough money to buy this lot in Georgetown. That was highly unusual. He learned the rules in America, buying bank stock and loaning money to white merchants in Georgetown. He was a black Ben Hur in going from slavery to status. He was so prominent that no less an artist than the great Charles Willson Peale painted his portrait -- for free. And four generations later, one of his family went to Harvard. There was no reason to save this building, which was put on the property after he died. There was reason to let archaeologists onto the property before this happened to see how he lived, but that wasn't done. Joni Mitchell warned about such things in her song, Big Yellow Taxi. "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got till it's gone."
Monday, September 30, 2013
Chestertown, Maryland
Last week, I gave a book talk at Washington College in Chestertown, Maryland. Washington College, my host, Ted Maris-Wolf, and the audience were wonderful. It is a great place to speak, and the town has a picture-book setting. But as with many of my speaking venues, Chestertown has a connection to the book. Artist Charles Willson Peale lived there for a short time when he was a boy. He had been born in Centerville, Maryland, and later his father, a teacher, took a job in Chestertown. Peale didn't live there long because his father died and his mother moved the family to Annapolis. Nonetheless, while there, I naturally had to track down Peale's house. It is gone, but I was told it was at the intersection of Queen and Cannon streets. The gray house on the right side of the street in this photograph is where the Peale house used to be.
Peale''s boyhood home |
Peale liked the water, so I took the picture below to show how close this house was to the Chester River. This is more or less what Peale would see when he ran out his front door. The green frame house on the right is an inn from the colonial period. I don't know if it was standing when Peale lived in Chestertown, but the historical sign next to it said that George Washington stayed there.
View of Cannon Street and Chester River |
Naturally there are many other things to see in Chestertown. My favorite was what I call "lawyers' row." Across the street from the courthouse are the buildings in the photograph below. They are lawyers' offices. I don't know when they were built, but they are still in use today. I was there on a beautiful September morning, and the doors to some of the offices were open.
Lawyers' offices |
Sotterley Plantation
In June, I spoke at Sotterley Plantation in St. Mary's County, Maryland. http://www.sotterley.org/ The restored plantation is an historical gem. It is the physical embodiment of Chapter 2 of From Slave Ship to Harvard: Tobacco and the Importation of a Labor Force. Situated on the Patuxent River, just up from the Chesapeake Bay, it had a wharf for the plantation owners and others to use to load tobacco directly onto sailing ships bound for England and to buy slaves from arriving slave ships from Africa. Sotterley's first owner, James Bowles, was married to Rebecca Tasker Addison. She was the niece of Benjamin Tasker, Sr., who would become acting colonial governor of Maryland in 1752. Governor Tasker's inaugural address to the colonial legislature was delivered the week Yarrow Mamout arrived in Annapolis on a slave ship. In fact, Tasker's daughter had married the merchant and transatlantic slave trader, Christopher Lowndes. Lowndes and the governor's son, Benjamin Tasker, Jr., placed the advertisement for the arrival of the Elijah which brought Yarrow, in the Maryland Gazette.
slave ship,
slave ship,
Maryland Gazette, May 1752 |
Friday, August 23, 2013
Guinea Sarah
Guinea Sarah turned up in my research after From Slave Ship to Harvard was published. I'm trying to get an article about her published and so won't go into detail right now; stay tuned. But I will say this. Guinea Sarah was a companion painting by James Alexander Simpson to the one he did of Yarrow. She was described as a 100-year-old black woman. No one knows what happened to the painting. I've been looking. It may have burned in a fire or it may have been thrown away. Hopefully, it suffered neither of those fates. Instead, it might be tucked away in someone's house, someone who hasn't the foggiest idea of what he or she has
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Archaeological work on Yarrow's property postponed
According to this article in the Georgetown Current, the promised archaeological work on Yarrow's property will not take place pending the outcome of a lawsuit over title to the property. According to the article, one of the two individuals claiming title has consented to the work. There is no indication as to whether the other has or whether her consent has been requested. Presumably, the work could go forward if both parties to the court fight would permit it.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Submission to DC Preservation League to declare Yarrow's property one of the city's most endangered places
The property at 3324
Dent Place NW in Georgetown
is an important site for black history with likely archaeological relics that are
threatened by already-approved plans for demolition even though the two-block long
street is on the city’s historic register. The property also holds at least one unmarked grave,
that of Yarrow Mamout. Listing it as
endangered would spotlight the potential loss of significant artifacts that
require investigation and preservation.
Yarrow Mamout once owned this place. Yarrow (his last name) was an extraordinary
individual. Even though he came to America
on a slave ship in 1752 at age sixteen, he eventually became a freeman and indeed
one of the most prominent in Washington D.C. Yarrow’s story is unusual in three
respects. First, he is one of the few identifiable
individuals known to have arrived on a slave ship. Second, his lineage has been traced to living
relatives of his daughter-in-law. Third,
we know what he looked like because two artists, Charles Willson Peale and James
Alexander Simpson, painted his portrait.
Indeed, the Peale portrait is one of only two formal portraits by a
major artist of a slave ship passenger.
Peale was interested in the African
because, as he wrote in his diary, Yarrow owned not only a house and the lot on
Dent Place but also bank
stock. These were obviously no small
accomplishments for a man who had come to America
via the Middle Passage. Peale also wrote
and perhaps believed, wrongly, that Yarrow was 140 years old. In any event, the artist went to the property
in December 1818 to engage Yarrow for a sitting and in late January 1819 painted
the portrait there. The portrait is now
in the Philadelphia Museum of Art.
James Alexander Simpson did his
portrait of Yarrow three years later. It
hangs in the Peabody Room of the Georgetown Public Library only a few blocks
from the property.
Yarrow was a man of many talents
and among them was brick-making. He was considered
the best brick-maker of his day in Georgetown ,
commanding one and a half times what white brick-makers could. His last owner, Brooke Beall, told Yarrow he
would free him if he made the bricks for his new house. Yarrow carried out his part of the bargain, but
Brooke died before fulfilling his. Brooke’s
widow kept the promise.
Yarrow acquired this property four
years later in 1800. But within a few
years, Yarrow lost all his savings because the man to whom he had entrusted his
money ran off with it or lost it in insolvency.
The only thing of value Yarrow had left was this property. So he cleverly put it out of the reach of his
creditors by transferring title to his teenage son. The National Archives has the Recorder of
Deeds’ copy of that document showing the West African signed in Arabic.
Yarrow died on January 19, 1823 .
According to an obituary in the February 1823 Gettysburg Compiler,
he was buried in the corner of the yard where he, a devote Muslim, was known to
pray. (The old Presbyterian cemetery was
just a block away, between 33rd and 34th Streets and Volta
and Q. However, graves of African
Americans have been discovered on the same block as Yarrow’s property. What connection, if any, there may be among
these three burial places hasn’t been established).
The heirs of Yarrow were listed as the owners
of the property on tax records until 1837 when it was sold for delinquent
taxes. The purchaser then flipped the
lot to the wealthy Francis Dodge, who presumably rented it out.
At some point in time, the original
house burned down or was torn down because the house on the lot today is of
later design and construction. Estimates
date it to around 1870 although it is hard to be sure. It seems clearly not the house Yarrow lived
in. However, as will be explained, a
part of the structure, the foundation, may well be original.
The house is in great disrepair,
and the city has declared it beyond saving.
This came about because it had been vacant for several years when, in
the fall of 2011, a large tree crashed through the second floor. Tax delinquencies on the property began to
mount, and so in the spring of 2012, the property was sold, once again, for
taxes. The buyer applied for and
received permission to demolish the house.
This is where things have stood for more than a year. At this writing, a crushed, vacant house that
is subject to demolition sits on the land.
But the house isn’t what is important
about property; the historically and archaeologically important parts are the
land, what is under the land, and what is in the house. The contents of the house are important
because the former owner has said that a collection of papers about the house’s
history, which she inherited from her father, were in a study on the second
floor when the tree fell. She said they
may still be there.
Yarrow’s grave and his remains were
once there and presumably still are. He was
probably buried in the southeast corner of the lot, or perhaps just southeast
of the original house, a place where he bowed to Mecca
to pray. These parts of the property
appear not to have been disturbed since his death.
Then there is the foundation or cellar. The existing house, supposedly of 1870s
vintage, sits on a brick cellar. An
archaeologist has looked at photographs and opined that the bricks are older
than the house. He said they appear
handmade, and brick-making machines came into use around 1850. Hence, the cellar may be original. In fact, it may be made of bricks fashioned by
Yarrow Mamout himself, the best brick-maker of his day in Georgetown .
Finally, there is an expectation
that other artifacts from Yarrow’s occupancy are on the property. The cellar reportedly has a dirt floor, so
things Yarrow once owned may be embedded in the dirt down there. The same is true of the yard. One can fancy finding a used paintbrush that
Charles Willson Peale threw out the window or pieces of a broken smoking pipe of
Yarrow’s, such as the one he holds in the Simpson painting, in a privy or trash
heap on the property. More likely, of
course, would be pedestrian things, such as oyster shells, kitchen utensils,
and brick-making implements.
In sum, 3422
Dent Place is an endangered site of major historic
and archaeological importance. Its
significance seems underappreciated, but it is hard to overstate. This is the only property in the United
States that is known to have been titled to
an ex-slave from Africa .
It is the oldest lot in Washington
known to have been owned by an African American. Archaeological work on the land has the
potential to give us details on how free blacks lived then, what they owned, what
they ate, and how skilled they were as craftsmen. And, of course, the property probably still
holds the mortal remains of Yarrow Mamout and perhaps other African Americans.
House as of June 2013 |
Gettysburg Compiler, Feburary 1823 |
National Gazette |
Foundation with handmade bricks |
Thursday, February 21, 2013
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