Monthly Archive for July, 2013

Completion of Duke’s CCC Still Image Digitization, Pt. 3

Duke University Libraries recently completed still image digitization for their contributions to the Content, Context, and Capacity (CCC) Project. Our last post highlighted the Basil Lee Whitener Papers and the records of the Women-In-Action for the Prevention of Violence and Its Causes (Durham chapter). In this final post on Duke’s digitization activities for the CCC, we focus on the Rencher Nicholas Harris Papers, 1851-1980; the Allen Building Takeover Collection, 1969-2002; the Black Student Alliance records, 1969-2006; and the Department of African and African American Studies records, 1966-1981:

  • Rencher Nicholas Harris Papers, 1851-1980 and undated, bulk 1926-1965: In 1953, Rencher Harris became the first African-American to serve as a Durham city councilman. He was also the first African-American to serve on the Durham County Board of Education. Harris was a trailblazing local leader whose files speak to the varied issues that officials must address on a daily basis. Researchers will learn about racial inequalities in Durham County Schools, the intersection of race relations and health care at Lincoln Hospital where Harris was the Secretary for the Board of Trustees, the complexities of zoning under Jim Crow, and the planning of projects that still impact Durham today. Harris also documented his city council campaigns, meaning researchers can see how Harris’s strong get-out-the-vote efforts squared off against racist hyperbole espoused in anonymous newspaper advertisements.
  • Allen Building Takeover Collection, 1969-2002 (Available from Duke University Archives (in finding aids): : February 13, 1969 and the subsequent days became the single most significant event in the history of civil rights at Duke. Students from the Afro-American Society occupied the Allen Building, the home of Duke’s administration. While the occupiers remained peaceful, violence erupted outside of the Allen Building between police officers and supporters of the takeover. This collection documents the events that led up to the takeover as well as the tumultuous days during and after the event. Researchers will also find media coverage of the takeover and remembrances written many years later about the impact of the takeover on Duke and the larger civil rights movement.
  • Black Student Alliance records, 1969-2006: The Afro-American Society, which would later become the Black Student Alliance (BSA), formed in 1967 only four years after the first African-American undergraduates were enrolled at Duke. The organization has undergone two name changes since its inception, first becoming the Association of African Students, or The Association, and taking its current name of the Black Student Alliance in 1976. The records in this collection document the BSA’s on-campus activities, writings, and publications. The BSA served as a major advocate for recruiting more African-American students and faculty as well as for recognizing African-American culture in campus life. Their publications (i.e. The Talking Drum) and scrapbooks document African-American student life, especially in the 1990s and 2000s. Recent Duke Alumni will find a great deal of interest in this collection.
  • Department of African and African American Studies records, 1966-1981: Started in 1969 as the Black Studies Program, the Department of African and African-American Studies at Duke has become an essential department for the academic life of the university. This collection documents the beginnings of the department under Walter Buford and William Turner. Researchers will find documentation of the challenges of starting any new academic program but they will also learn of the unique struggles that African-American Studies faced in the early 1970s when some questioned the validity of the field itself. This collection also contains evidence of the intellectual history of radical politics, especially in the 1970s.

Researchers will certainly find a great deal of material to analyze in the eight collections cited in these posts. It is the hope of the CCC staff that you will visit the finding aids of each collection and start exploring the varied perspectives, narratives, and memories that help to comprise the Long Civil Rights Movement.

Commemorating Faithful Slaves, Mammies, and Black Confederates, Pt. 2

By Angelina Ray Johnston and Robinson Wise

Confederate Monument at Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington, Virginia,

Confederate Monument at Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington, Virginia,

[This is the second of 4 installments of an essay that was originally published here.]

The “Faithful Slaves” monument in Mebane (see first installment of this essay) is just one example of the regional, even national, enthusiasm for commemorating “mammies” and “faithful slaves.” Perhaps the most striking manifestation of this impulse was a decades-long campaign to erect a monument to black “mammies” in Washington D. C. As early as 1904, members of the United Daughters of the Confederacy (UDC) began campaigning for a memorial to “faithful slaves,” and Southern congressmen took up the cause, unsuccessfully seeking federal funding for a monument in 1907 and 1912.2 A milestone in the UDC’s campaign to commemorate both the Confederacy and “faithful slaves” was the erection of the Confederate Monument in Arlington National Cemetery in 1914. Sculpted by Moses Jacob Ezekiel, a Confederate veteran and prominent sculptor, the imposing monument includes thirty-two life-sized reliefs, including a frieze depicting a loyal black slave accompanying his Confederate master into battle and another that portrays a departing Confederate soldier bidding farewell to his children, who cluster around an “old Negro mammy.” According to Hilary A. Herbert, who wrote a history of the monument in 1914, the monument depicted “the kindly relations that existed all over the South between the master and the slave – a story that can not be too often repeated to generations in which “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” survives and is still manufacturing false ideas as to the South and slavery in the ‘fifties.’ The astonishing fidelity of the slaves everywhere during the war to the wives and children of those who were absent in the army was convincing proof of the kindly relations between master and slave in the old South.”3

Even after the erection of the Confederate Monument at Arlington, UDC activists remained committed to a national monument dedicated to “mammies.” The value of such a monument was clear to its supporters: one proponent explained that “a noble monument” to the memory of black “mammies” and to “their loyal conduct refutes the assertion that the master was cruel to his slave.”4 Passionately, the monument enthusiasts argued that it “would not only tell the traditions, romance, poetry, and picturesqueness of the South, but would speak the pathetic scenes enacted in many grand old Southern homesteads. No one who was rocked to sleep by the sweet lullaby of the faithful black ‘mammy,’ listened to her weird ghost stories, nursed at her breast, or played about her cabin door would ever be willing to have these tender memories die out. There is the side of sentiment, the side of gratitude, that those who have felt the touch can never give up, nor can they forget the debt due the faithful ‘ten per cent of slaves that remained with their masters after freedom.'”5

In February 1923, the Senate, prodded by the UDC and at the behest of Senator John Sharp Williams of Mississippi, passed a bill granting permission to the Washington D.C. chapter of the UDC to erect a monument to “faithful slave mammies.” In the House of Representatives, Charles M. Stedman of North Carolina, a Confederate veteran, introduced a virtually identical bill. Although the House bill languished while Congress was out of session, sculptors began submitting designs for the monument. Simultaneously, outraged blacks organized in opposition to the proposed monument, and the combination of this opposition and shifting legislative priorities subsequently prevented the passage of the House bill in support of the monument. Eventually the UDC and the monument’s supporters conceded defeat.6

1. For more on “Faithful Slave” monuments, see Kirk Savage, Standing Soldiers, Kneeling Slaves: Race, War, and Monument in Nineteenth-Century America (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997), 155-161.

2. Mrs. W. Carlton Adams, “Slave Monument Question.” Confederate Veteran 12 (November 1904): 525 (accessed June 28, 2013).

3. Herbert, Hilary A. History of the Arlington Confederate Monument [Washington, D.C., 1914], 77 (accessed June 28, 2013).

4. Wallace-Sanders, Kimberly. Southern Memory, Southern Monuments, and the Subversive Black Mammy. Emory University, June 12, 2009 (accessed June 28, 2013).

5. Confederate Veteran 13 (1905): 123 (accessed June 29, 2013)

6. Mills, Cynthia. “Commemorating the Color Line: the National Mammy Monument Controversy of the 1920s.” Monuments to the Lost Cause: Women, Art, and the Landscapes of Southern Memory. Ed. Cynthia Mills and Pamela H. Simpson (Knoxville, TN: University of Tennessee Press, 2003); McElya, Micki. Clinging to Mammy: the Faithful Slave in Twentieth-century America (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2007), 116-159; MarieJohnson, Joan. “‘YE GAVE THEM A STONE’: African American Women’s Clubs, the Frederick Douglass Home, and the Black Mammy Monument,” Journal of Women’s History 17 (Spring 2005): 62–86.

Commemorating Faithful Slaves, Mammies, and Black Confederates, Pt. 1

By Angelina Ray Johnston and Robinson Wise

Erected June 4, 1922, in Hawfield Presbyterian Church in Mebane, North Carolina

The “Faithful Slaves” memorial, erected June 4, 1922, in Hawfield Presbyterian Church in Mebane, North Carolina

[This is the first of 4 installments of an essay that was originally published here.]

During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, white Southerners engaged in a frenzy of commemoration and monument building. In addition to honoring Confederate soldiers and the Lost Cause, they also sought to commemorate African American “mammies” and “faithful slaves.” Anxious to refute any suggestion that slavery had required the dehumanization of African Americans, white Southerners recalled their enslaved caretakers as willing “servants” who had been content, even grateful, for their lot in life. These commemorative gestures, which only hinted at the complex relationship that existed between slaveholders and slaves, served to legitimize white privilege and inform blacks of their “proper” place during the Jim Crow era. Simultaneously, some African Americans exploited the image of the “faithful slave” by pointedly reminding whites who railed against black criminality and fecklessness that blacks had been trustworthy in the past and, in fact, remained so. Even today, recent efforts to commemorate so-called “Black Confederates,” or slaves who allegedly fought on behalf of the Confederacy, demonstrate the continuing contests over acknowledging the historical complexities of American slavery.

One example of white commemoration of “faithful slaves” stands in the cemetery of the Hawfield Presbyterian Church in Mebane, North Carolina. Erected on June 4, 1922, the monument is a roughly-cut, rectangular stone with a bronze plaque. It, along with two other plaques, were donated in honor of the founders of the church, the former and present pastors of the church, as well as the “faithful slaves” who are buried in the church cemetery. The donors of the monument were members of the family of Stephen A.White, a businessman, prominent local politician, and an elder of the church.

A plaque on the stone reads as follows: IN MEMORY OF / THE FAITHFUL SLAVES / MANY OF WHOM WERE MEMBERS OF / HAWFIELDS PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH / AND ARE BURIED IN THIS CEMETERY / “BE THOU FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH AND I / WILL GIVE THEE A CROWN OF LIFE” REV. 2:10 / THIS TABLET IS PRESENTED BY THE FAMILY OF STEPHEN ALEXANDER WHITE / AND DEDICATED BY THE HAWFIELDS PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH / 1908 – 1922

This Biblical passage and the monument’s location are telling. The passage presumably was selected to explicitly compare the slaves’ servitude to devout Christians’ obedience to God, who will “give thee the crown of life.” The passage renders the condition of servitude in a manner that whites, who knew of slavery only from the vantage of slave masters, presumably found both acceptable and compelling. Simultaneously, it underscored that faithfulness to masters, as to God, was both a necessity and an obligation. The apparent intent of the inscription is to suggest that just as God gives life to his faithful followers, so too slave masters gave life to their loyal slaves. And while the plaque specifically commemorated former slaves who had been members of the Hawfields Presbyterian Church, no names of any of the “faithful slaves” were included on it. Consequently, the monument memorializes them in the abstract, and these nameless slaves are honored in the context of a segregated church and a segregated cemetery. The monument, in sum, is a memorial to the slaves’ condition vis a vis their white masters rather than to them as individuals.1

1. For more on “Faithful Slave” monuments, see Kirk Savage, Standing Soldiers, Kneeling Slaves: Race, War, and Monument in Nineteenth-Century America (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997), 155-161.