‘A Million Questions’
From Descendants of Slaves
Sold to Aid Georgetown
By RACHEL L. SWARNS and SONA PATEL MAY 20, 2016
The great-grandfather of Rochell Sanders Prater was a slave sold by Jesuit priests to help keep Georgetown University afloat. She shared family photos, including one of her grandmother’s house. Her father is in the photo at right, wearing glasses. CreditAndrew Spear for The New York Times
African-Americans have long lived with unanswered questions about their roots, missing branches in their family trees and stubborn silences from elders reluctant to delve into a painful past that extends back to slavery. This month, scores of readers wrote to us, saying they had finally found clues in an unexpected place: an articlepublished in The New York Times.
The story described the sale of 272 slaves in 1838. The men, women and children were owned by the nation’s most prominent Jesuit priests. And they were sold — for about $3.3 million in today’s dollars — to help the college now known as Georgetown University stay afloat. We asked readers to contact us if they suspected that their ancestors were among those slaves, who had labored on Jesuit plantations in Maryland before being sold to new owners in Louisiana.
With the help of Judy Riffel, a genealogist hired by the Georgetown Memory Project, a group dedicated to supporting and identifying the descendants of the slaves, we were able to confirm the ancestry of several respondents. Here are their stories, edited and condensed for clarity.
From Descendants of Slaves
Sold to Aid Georgetown
By RACHEL L. SWARNS and SONA PATEL MAY 20, 2016
The great-grandfather of Rochell Sanders Prater was a slave sold by Jesuit priests to help keep Georgetown University afloat. She shared family photos, including one of her grandmother’s house. Her father is in the photo at right, wearing glasses. CreditAndrew Spear for The New York Times
African-Americans have long lived with unanswered questions about their roots, missing branches in their family trees and stubborn silences from elders reluctant to delve into a painful past that extends back to slavery. This month, scores of readers wrote to us, saying they had finally found clues in an unexpected place: an articlepublished in The New York Times.
The story described the sale of 272 slaves in 1838. The men, women and children were owned by the nation’s most prominent Jesuit priests. And they were sold — for about $3.3 million in today’s dollars — to help the college now known as Georgetown University stay afloat. We asked readers to contact us if they suspected that their ancestors were among those slaves, who had labored on Jesuit plantations in Maryland before being sold to new owners in Louisiana.
With the help of Judy Riffel, a genealogist hired by the Georgetown Memory Project, a group dedicated to supporting and identifying the descendants of the slaves, we were able to confirm the ancestry of several respondents. Here are their stories, edited and condensed for clarity.
- Photo
Several of Charles Hill’s ancestors were among people the Jesuits sold to a Louisiana slave owner to ensure the survival of Georgetown. CreditWilliam Widmer for The New York Times
Charles Hill, 74
Great-great-grandson of Bill and Mary Ann Hill
My father always told me that we came out of Maryland, and that the name of the slave ship was Jackson. But that’s all he would tell us.
So when my cousin called me about the story, I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. I said that was why my father wouldn’t tell us. He didn’t want to disturb our Catholic faith. He didn’t want to lose us.
That whole part of my family is Catholic. They didn’t cuss. They didn’t drink. They didn’t smoke. I’m the middle kid. I wanted to be a bad boy, and my father wasn’t going to have that.
I believe in my rosary. I believe in my prayers. I believe in my candles. I’m not angry at the church. I love my church. What happened with slavery, that was back in the day.
I’m still Catholic today, Knights of Columbus, fourth degree.
You know, that’s pretty much what saved me. I grew up with all those renegades and hoodlums, but I’m 74 years old and haven’t been to prison. I believe in my rosary. I believe in my prayers. I believe in my candles. I’m not angry at the church. I love my church. What happened with slavery, that was back in the day.
I feel good about knowing more about my family’s history. My uncle Abraham was a carpenter like my great-great-grandfather. He thought he was Noah, he could make boats so smooth. Peter Hill, the grandson of Bill Hill, a slave, was a blacksmith. And you can’t beat me with sheet metal and a hammer. I owned my own body shop in Santa Monica, Calif.
Bill Hill appears on the passenger list of the Katherine Jackson, which transported the slaves to Louisiana in 1838.
What should Georgetown do? Put up a monument with our forefathers’ names on there. Give some scholarships to the kids. I’m 74. I’m on my way out of this world. If I could leave something behind to educate my grandkids, that’s what I would like to do.
- Photo
Sandra Green Thomas at her home in New Orleans. Pictured behind her are William Harris and Charity P. Harris, her great-grandfather and great-grandmother, who were slaves in Maringouin, La.CreditWilliam Widmer for The New York Times
Sandra Green Thomas, 54
Great-great-granddaughter of Sam Harris and Betsy Ware Harris
I thought that we were from Louisiana. It never occurred to me that we were from any place else because we were so Catholic. We are an extremely close-knit family. Growing up, there were always discussions about the family and the family history.
William Harris was my great-grandfather. I knew that. I knew that he was born around 1850, and I knew that he was born a slave. That’s why we talked about him so much, because of what he and his family were able to accomplish.
After the Civil War, they amassed property as a family. They founded St. Mary’s Chapel, and there was a school for colored children of the same name. I knew all about my great-grandfather. But I didn’t know the details about his parents or the Catholic Church or Georgetown. In the mid-1990s, I lived within walking distance of Georgetown. I was pushing my babies around in a stroller, going on campus, without knowing anything about the connection.
I read The New York Times, and I saw the story there. I saw the photo of the cemetery, and I saw Maringouin, La. I went to the website ofGeorgetown’s slavery archive and saw the names of my relatives.
I am still processing it. I find it somewhat comforting and amazing that the immediate family remained intact after being sold. But there’s some sadness, too. When I first read it, I was just looking at the facts. But when you start thinking about it, it is really horrific.
My great-great-grandmother had a 5-month-old child when she was forced onto that ship. That means she was pregnant or just giving birth when she was sold. When I realized that, my heart just broke for her.
Ms. Thomas’s grandmother and father, Julia H. Green and Shepard P. Green Sr., descendants of the Harrises.
I don’t think that my family wanted to focus on that aspect of our history. I don’t think they wanted to discuss those unpleasant details. You must understand that the older members of my family were very deferential to members of the clergy. Priests were always intimate associates of my family. They visited members of my family on a daily basis. We even had a family priest who every Christmas played Santa Claus — highball in hand — and distributed our toys.
There’s a lot of hand-wringing, a lot of “Oh my goodness, that was terrible. What can we possibly do?” But there’s a lot Georgetown can do. The most obvious beginning is some sort of formal acknowledgment and apology from Georgetown officials to the descendants.
Next, since the Jesuits took away these individuals’ right to freedom and self-determination, it follows that a Georgetown education should be offered to all descendants who wish it. One of the values espoused in this nation is that a good education is the best way to achieve personal liberty and self-determination. Of course, there are going to be people who aren’t interested in that, so for them there would have to be other remedies.
It’s complicated, but not insurmountable. It’s actually pretty clear-cut in a situation like this. There’s so much continuity from generation to generation. Our families are still here.