THE DESPOT'S HEEL:
RACE, CLASS, AND INDUSTRY IN LATE ANTEBELLUM MARYLAND
by
David Hamilton Golland©
Submitted to the Committee on Undergraduate Honors
at Baruch College of the City University of New York
in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the
degree of Bachelor of Arts in History with Honors.
ABSTRACT
MAP OF THE REGIONS OF MARYLAND
IN 1850
PREFACE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
INTRODUCTION
ONE: BASIC FACTS ABOUT MARYLAND
TWO: URBAN SLAVERY IN LATE
ANTEBELLUM BALTIMORE
THREE: HIRING-OUT PRACTICS
IN THE ANTEBELLUM CHESAPEAKE
FOUR: ASPECTS OF INDUSTRIAL
SLAVERY
FIVE: ANTEBELLUM MARYLAND'S
FREE BLACKS
SIX: MARYLAND ON THE EVE OF
THE CIVIL WAR
SEVEN: MARYLAND IN THE
CIVIL WAR
CONCLUSION
NOTES
BIBLIOGRAPHY

Submitted on April 3, 2000

The despot's heel is at thy shore,
Maryland!
His torch is at thy temple door,
Maryland!
Avenge the patriotic gore
That flecked the streets of Baltimore
And be the battle queen of yore,
Maryland! My Maryland![1]

Slavery in Maryland, as a labor system, was attempting to make the
transition from agriculture to industry and was doing so to a very profitable
degree. This combination of its "southern" quality--slavery--with its
"northern" quality--industry--made Maryland a border state in every
sense, and helped shape the highly-contentious years of 1861 to 1865,
during which the state had to resolve its most difficult and divisive
issues. The Despot's Heel: Race, Politics, and Industry in late Antebellum
Maryland explores those issues and attempts to answer the political
and socioeconomic questions of the day: first, was slavery viable in
an increasingly-industrializing Maryland? Second, how did blacks, both
free and slave, contribute to late antebellum Maryland society and economy?
and third, what was the social, political, and economic position of
Maryland just prior to and during the Civil War?
The first chapter offers an overview of the state of Maryland: geography,
population, history. Maryland was founded by the First Lord Baltimore,
Cecil Calvert, out of a tract of land originally part of the Virginia
colony, in the mid-seventeenth century. It lies between Virginia and
Pennsylvania, north of the Potomac river and south of the Mason/Dixon
line. Maryland dominates the northern two-thirds of the Chesapeake bay
and stretches west from there, growing thinner the further it goes,
until it ends in Appalachia. Slavery developed in Maryland along similar
lines to Virginia, growing in importance with the expansion of the tobacco
crop. By the mid-eighteenth century, the tobacco economy was in decline
and the Chesapeake region, including tidewater Maryland, experienced
drastic economic ups and downs, booms and busts. The American Revolutionary
era brought a major, although temporary, displacement of the institution
of slavery, and the founding of the city of Baltimore. Recovery from
that tumultuous period brought a strengthening of the institution of
slavery accompanied with a continued decline of the tobacco economy.
Antebellum Baltimore, the subject of the second chapter, was a city
emerging. Founded in 1798, this city had risen from an accumulation
of shacks along the Fells Point waterfront district to an urban metropolis
enriched by Chesapeake/Atlantic trade as well as hinterland trade from
the Susquehanna river and overland via locomotive from the Ohio river.
Baltimore was developing its own industries and vied with New York for
supremacy in both industry and trade. Each of these Queen cities had
its own hinterland trade headquarters dependent to a degree on the larger
port: for New York it was Chicago; for Baltimore it was St. Louis. This
affluence was not dependent on slavery, but slavery was very much a
fact of life in antebellum Baltimore. The city's industry used slaves
in a variety of trades, some owned by companies outright and others
hired from their masters. Slaves were also present in the shipping areas
of the city's economy. Free Blacks played an important and growing role
in Baltimore's emerging status as well.
The third chapter focuses on one of the peculiar aspects of the peculiar
institution: slave hiring-out practices. In the late antebellum era
Chesapeake, many slave owners found it more profitable to lease their
slaves to farms or industrial concerns or allow them to find wage-paying
jobs than to put them to work on their own farm or in their own factory.
Many slaveowners did not own farms or factories, yet inherited or purchased
slave capital. Slave capital, of course, is worth only its resale value
if the slaves are not put to work; the hiring-out system solved this
problem. In the agricultural sector, usually in southern Maryland and
on the eastern shore of the bay, slaves were often hired away for year-long
contracts; in the industrial sector and in urban areas, slaves were
hired (or sought jobs themselves) in the same manner as free wage laborers.
Of course the difference here was that their wages were collected by
or payable to their owners, making their situation much worse than that
of most free wage laborers.
Industrial slavery in Maryland is the subject of the fourth chapter.
Here we see the variety of trades in which intrepid entrepreneurs put
their slaves, and those of others, to work. The two divergent historiographical
schools on this subject are the Wade/Genovese school, which states that
industrial slavery was unprofitable by nature and did not fit into the
greater paradigm of slavery as a system of racial paternalism, and that
of Robert Starobin, who argues that industrial slavery was not only
profitable but preferable (from a business, not a moral, standpoint,
of course). Whereas Wade, the earlier historian, approaches the topic
of industrial slavery as part of his greater work on slavery in urban
areas, Starobin looks solely at industrial slavery, some of which was
found in cities and some in smaller town in the countryside. The earlier
work put forward the theory that slavery was unprofitable because the
cost of a slave's initial purchase price and upkeep outweighed the value
of a slave's labor while free workers could be had for the lowest market
price. Starobin gives innumerable examples of how purchase price was
often not a factor, as many slaves were rented or inherited; upkeep,
also, was low when compared to the wages of free laborers, as free workers
were already organizing prototype labor unions and demanding higher
wages. This paper weighs both schools carefully, but ultimately supports
Starobin.
Antebellum Maryland's free blacks are the subject of the fifth chapter,
and are of great importance to any work focusing on late antebellum
Maryland. This is a population which grew by leaps and bounds during
the four score years between independence and sectional crisis, and
which presented white supremacists with several problems. The wave of
nineteenth-century manumissions across the state might have heralded
the eventual end of the institution of slavery there. Yet free blacks
were constantly represented by the press as financially and morally
bankrupt. One solution for white supremacists was found in the Maryland
Colonization Society, which worked independently of the American Colonization
Society to send Maryland's free blacks to the west African colony of
Maryland-in-Africa, just south along the coast from Liberia. Free blacks
in Maryland had fewer rights than whites, to be sure, and enjoyed a
standard of living in many cases worse than that found in slavery, yet
many used their freedom to take additional steps towards equality and
social participation, forming benevolent societies, burial insurance
groups, and schools for their children.
The final two chapters, "Maryland on the eve of the Civil War" and
"Maryland in the Civil War," take a turn toward the political and military
side of history while demonstrating how the peculiar institution played
a role in Maryland during both the secession crisis and the Civil War.
The years in which Marylanders debated slavery and freedom as their
labor system and agriculture and industry as their economic system culminated
in the secession crisis of 1860-61 and the American Civil War of 1861-65.
Slavery, economics, and racism colored Maryland's returns in the presidential
election of 1860, which indicated a state still very much divided over
those issues. The rash of secessions in the rest of the South forced
Maryland to face the question of secession and a war-ravaged state or
loyalty to a union in which Marylanders, as the sometime proponents
of slavery, would be in the minority. During the Civil War, however,
the exigencies through which the state and its institutions passed so
changed the nature of Maryland slavery and economics that by 1863 general,
immediate, and uncompensated emancipation became a reality.


In April, 1998, I attended a lecture on Maryland hosted by the Museum
of the Confederacy in Richmond, Virginia. It was part of a Spring lecture
series on the border states and their impact on secession and the Civil
War. Perhaps I chose the lecture on Maryland consciously; perhaps it
was the only one in the series which fit into my busy schedule (Richmond
is, after all, a five- to six-hour drive from New York). Whatever the
reason, that night I was given a view of the Civil War from a unique
perspective, and I have been interested in antebellum and Civil War
Maryland ever since.
This work is the finished product of two years of research. At first,
my research concerned itself with the decline of the tobacco-raising
economy in the antebellum Chesapeake, and with it the decline of the
slave power in Maryland, and how that contributed to the secession question
in that state. I read Arthur Pierce Middleton's Tobacco Coast: A
Maritime History of Chesapeake Bay in the Colonial Era, Vertrees
Wyckoff's Tobacco Regulations in Colonial Maryland, and Gloria
Main's Tobacco Colony. I learned how tobacco was planted, grown,
replanted, and harvested. I learned the ins and outs of the colonial
transatlantic trade. I learned the value of a good hogshead of product
and the importance of packing only leaves, not stems. I became a smoker
(I am currently trying to quit).
I then looked at late antebellum Maryland politics in an attempt to
connect the two topics. I read Gerald Henig's biography of U.S. Representative
from Baltimore Henry Winter Davis. I read The Narrative of William
Wilkins Glenn, a Maryland journalist. I read William C. Wright's
The Secession Movement in the Middle Atlantic States and Harold
Manakee's Maryland in the Civil War. To see how secession conventions
worked, I read Secession Debated: Georgia's Showdown in 1860,
a collection of secessionist and anti-secessionist speeches made during
the Georgia secession convention. As this research progressed, however,
I began to realise that not only was the decline of tobacco production
only one of many issues facing late antebellum Marylanders, but also
that there were much more important (and more interesting) issues that
hadn't been dealt with by historians nearly as much.
I began to to look at how slavery might play a role in this topic.
I set out to discover if slavery was different in Maryland than in the
other states of the South. I read Barbara Jeanne Fields' Slavery
and Freedom on the Middle Ground and discovered that, at least
by the late antebellum era, slavery was indeed different there. To get
an overall comparison of the regions wherin slavery existed during the
antebellum era I read Robert Starobin's Industrial Slavery in the
Old South and Richard Wade's Slavery in the Cities: The South,
1820-1860, as well as Claudia Dale Goldin's book on the same subject.
I discovered that Maryland, bordering on the north as it did, was in
the early throes of industrialization at this time. In fact, Baltimore
was emerging as the strongest contender to Atlantic-coast trade and
industry dominance New York City had ever faced. But what else I discovered
was that, unlike the North, which had been emancipating its slaves gradually
for nearly eighty years, Maryland was instead integrating them into
the new economic system.

My general study on late antebellum slavery and politics consisted
of such works as Ira Berlin's Many Thousands Gone,
Penelope Campbell's Maryland in Africa, Eric
Foner's Free Soil, Free Labor, Free Men,
Peter Kolchin's American Slavery, 1619-1877,
James Oakes' The Master Race, and Betty Wood's
The Origins of American Slavery. This work
is also due in no small part to the constant and unfailing guidance
of my faculty mentors and advisors, Professors Carol Berkin, Catherine
Clinton, and Myrna Chase. Professor Wendell Pritchett, Graduate Teaching
Fellows Angelo Angelis and Steven Levine, and Adjunct Lecturers Cindy
Lobel and Carl Skutsch contributed thoughtful insights and much-needed
support and encouragement and often put me on the right track to uncovering
useful pieces of evidence. I am also grateful to the staff and members
of the American Antiquarian Society, the Maryland Historical Society,
and the New York Public Library periodicals division.

Slavery in Maryland, as a labor system, was attempting to make the
transition from agriculture to industry and was doing so to a very profitable
degree. This combination of its "southern" quality--slavery--with its
"northern" quality--industry--made Maryland a border state in every
sense, and helped shape the highly-contentious years of 1861 to 1865,
during which the state had to resolve its most difficult and divisive
issues. The Despot's Heel: Race, Politics, and Industry in late Antebellum
Maryland explores those issues and attempts to answer the political
and socioeconomic questions of the day: first, was slavery viable in
an increasingly-industrializing Maryland? Second, how did blacks, both
free and slave, contribute to late antebellum Maryland society and economy?
and third, what was the social, political, and economic position of
Maryland just prior to and during the Civil War?
The first chapter offers an overview of the state of Maryland: geography,
population, history. Maryland was founded by the First Lord Baltimore,
Cecil Calvert, out of a tract of land originally part of the Virginia
colony, in the mid-seventeenth century. It lies between Virginia and
Pennsylvania, north of the Potomac river and south of the Mason/Dixon
line. Maryland dominates the northern two-thirds of the Chesapeake bay
and stretches west from there, growing thinner the further it goes,
until it ends in Appalachia. Slavery developed in Maryland along similar
lines to Virginia, growing in importance with the expansion of the tobacco
crop. By the mid-eighteenth century, the tobacco economy was in decline
and the Chesapeake region, including tidewater Maryland, experienced
drastic economic ups and downs, booms and busts. The American Revolutionary
era brought a major, although temporary, displacement of the institution
of slavery, and the founding of the city of Baltimore. Recovery from
that tumultuous period brought a strengthening of the institution of
slavery accompanied with a continued decline of the tobacco economy.
Antebellum Baltimore, the subject of the second chapter, was a city
emerging. Founded in 1798, this city had risen from an accumulation
of shacks along the Fells Point waterfront district to an urban metropolis
enriched by Chesapeake/Atlantic trade as well as hinterland trade from
the Susquehanna river and overland via locomotive from the Ohio river.
Baltimore was developing its own industries and vied with New York for
supremacy in both industry and trade. Each of these Queen cities had
its own hinterland trade headquarters dependent to a degree on the larger
port: for New York it was Chicago; for Baltimore it was St. Louis. This
affluence was not dependent on slavery, but slavery was very much a
fact of life in antebellum Baltimore. The city's industry used slaves
in a variety of trades, some owned by companies outright and others
hired from their masters. Slaves were also present in the shipping areas
of the city's economy. Free Blacks played an important and growing role
in Baltimore's emerging status as well.
The third chapter focuses on one of the peculiar aspects of the peculiar
institution: slave hiring-out practices. In the late antebellum era
Chesapeake, many slave owners found it more profitable to lease their
slaves to farms or industrial concerns or allow them to find wage-paying
jobs than to put them to work on their own farm or in their own factory.
Many slaveowners did not own farms or factories, yet inherited or purchased
slave capital. Slave capital, of course, is worth only its resale value
if the slaves are not put to work; the hiring-out system solved this
problem. In the agricultural sector, usually in southern Maryland and
on the eastern shore of the bay, slaves were often hired away for year-long
contracts; in the industrial sector and in urban areas, slaves were
hired (or sought jobs themselves) in the same manner as free wage laborers.
Of course the difference here was that their wages were collected by
or payable to their owners, making their situation much worse than that
of most free wage laborers.
Industrial slavery in Maryland is the subject of the fourth chapter.
Here we see the variety of trades in which intrepid entrepreneurs put
their slaves, and those of others, to work. The two divergent historiographical
schools on this subject are the Wade/Genovese school, which states that
industrial slavery was unprofitable by nature and did not fit into the
greater paradigm of slavery as a system of racial paternalism, and that
of Robert Starobin, who argues that industrial slavery was not only
profitable but preferable (from a business, not a moral, standpoint,
of course). Whereas Wade, the earlier historian, approaches the topic
of industrial slavery as part of his greater work on slavery in urban
areas, Starobin looks solely at industrial slavery, some of which was
found in cities and some in smaller town in the countryside. The earlier
work put forward the theory that slavery was unprofitable because the
cost of a slave's initial purchase price and upkeep outweighed the value
of a slave's labor while free workers could be had for the lowest market
price. Starobin gives innumerable examples of how purchase price was
often not a factor, as many slaves were rented or inherited; upkeep,
also, was low when compared to the wages of free laborers, as free workers
were already organizing prototype labor unions and demanding higher
wages. This paper weighs both schools carefully, but ultimately supports
Starobin.
Antebellum Maryland's free blacks are the subject of the fifth chapter,
and are of great importance to any work focusing on late antebellum
Maryland. This is a population which grew by leaps and bounds during
the four score years between independence and sectional crisis, and
which presented white supremacists with several problems. The wave of
nineteenth-century manumissions across the state might have heralded
the eventual end of the institution of slavery there. Yet free blacks
were constantly represented by the press as financially and morally
bankrupt. One solution for white supremacists was found in the Maryland
Colonization Society, which worked independently of the American Colonization
Society to send Maryland's free blacks to the west African colony of
Maryland-in-Africa, just south along the coast from Liberia. Free blacks
in Maryland had fewer rights than whites, to be sure, and enjoyed a
standard of living in many cases worse than that found in slavery, yet
many used their freedom to take additional steps towards equality and
social participation, forming benevolent societies, burial insurance
groups, and schools for their children.
The final two chapters, "Maryland on the eve of the Civil War" and
"Maryland in the Civil War," take a turn toward the political and military
side of history while demonstrating how the peculiar institution played
a role in Maryland during both the secession crisis and the Civil War.
The years in which Marylanders debated slavery and freedom as their
labor system and agriculture and industry as their economic system culminated
in the secession crisis of 1860-61 and the American Civil War of 1861-65.
Slavery, economics, and racism colored Maryland's returns in the presidential
election of 1860, which indicated a state still very much divided over
those issues. The rash of secessions in the rest of the South forced
Maryland to face the question of secession and a war-ravaged state or
loyalty to a union in which Marylanders, as the sometime proponents
of slavery, would be in the minority. During the Civil War, however,
the exigencies through which the state and its institutions passed so
changed the nature of Maryland slavery and economics that by 1863 general,
immediate, and uncompensated emancipation became a reality.

Maryland was founded by Cecil Calvert, Second Lord Baltimore, on June
20, 1632. A royal charter, including absolute powers, was granted to
Calvert for lands in Virginia north of the Potomac.[3]
As rent to the King, Calvert had merely to send his Majesty "two Indian
arrowheads...each year at Easter week."[4]
Baltimore was a Catholic, and a land grant the size of Maryland to a
Catholic carried strong political repercussions at home in Anglican
England. For this and other reasons the King was deposed and beheaded
after a civil war some ten years later. The new Puritan government left
Maryland alone, however, for by then the tobacco shipments were so numerous
as to render revocation of the charter economically impracticable.[5]
The climate in Maryland can be particularly harsh without modern conveniences.
The hot, humid summers and comparatively mild winters kept the average
colonial-era life span very low. Most early colonists in the Chesapeake
region were men. They came over as indentured servants, earning their
own land if they were lucky enough to survive. But the scarcity of women
meant that many would never marry. Those who did married late, and often
left a widow and orphans. For financial reasons more than anything else,
these widows would promptly remarry. Most children grew up orphaned
by at least one parent, some in households where they were unrelated
to both of their "parents."
The unique family structure of the Chesapeake prompted the enactment
of unique family laws. As the father's presence in the family was fleeting,
it was orphans who needed the most legal protection, to ensure that
they received their inheritances after the custodianship of their mother
or step-parent. Orphans' courts were established to protect these children
from scheming widows and widowers.
No decisive war or organized coexistence with the native population
ever occurred in Maryland. Individual Indians were murdered by landowners
clearing forests to make way for tobacco farms; sometimes murders were
committed by the Indians. Thanks also to smallpox and rum, "Within a
half century Indians had ceased to be a factor in the Tidewater."[6]
The history of slavery in colonial Maryland begins, as does its political
history and economic history, in Virginia. Prior to the granting of
a royal charter to Cecil Calvert, the land later known as Maryland was
a part of the Virginia Colony. While Maryland seems to have developed
along similar lines to Virginia in the seventeenth century, one difference
becomes clear: Maryland had a distinct awareness of the legal status
of slaves as early as 1658 (it took the Virginians until 1705). Perhaps
this can be attributed to Calvert's authority: legal status is more
easily defined in an autocracy than in a democracy, where debates could
continue for years. Still, the numbers of West African slaves remained
small, even as late as 1670. Of 151 households polled, only 15 listed
slaves, while "these same 151 households had 260 white indentured servants."[7]
Not so for lack of trying. Charles Calvert (Cecil's son) seems to have
been very much in favor of replacing the indentures with slave labor
early on. In 1663 he wrote his father of a fruitless search for at least
a hundred Marylanders who could guarantee that a Dutch shipload could
sell its cargo: "'I find wee are nott men of estates good enough to
undertake such a businesse, but could wish wee were for wee are naturally
inclined to love neigros if our purses would endure it.'"[8]
West African slavery was not practicable in Maryland during the seventeenth
century for a variety of reasons. While tobacco was a labor intensive
crop (to say the least), the supply of whites from England as indentured
servants was more than enough to meet labor demands. England was in
economic and political turmoil: peasants were being displaced by acts
of enclosure; Anglicans, Catholics and Puritans were persecuting each
other with successive revolutionary and restoration governments. These
factors made the purchase of indentures an inexpensive affair, which
was fortunate, for health and nutrition were so poor in the Chesapeake
that many indentures would not live to see freedom. Conversely, the
Dutch monopoly of the trans-Atlantic slave trade made the purchase of
West Africans a very expensive venture. It was assumed that West Africans
would survive only as long as white indentures.
Toward the end of the century, however, changes in all these factors
virtually overdetermined a switch from indentured labor to chattel slavery.
The return of eonomic and political stability to England began to dry
up the supply of indentured servants in the Chesapeake. Improved health
and nutrition meant that more and more indentures were graduating into
land ownership, posing the problem, for the pre-existing planters, of
competition (while there was still good land available) and rebellion
(when there was not).[9]
With life spans in the Chesapeake growing longer, laborers with longer
contracts (i.e. for life) became more desirable; they became cheaper,
too, when the British broke the Dutch monopoly of the slave trade.[10]
British ships began arriving with West African slaves and the Marylanders
bought them.
Slavery in Maryland and the rest of the Chesapeake was a particularly
brutal affair. Slaves worked from sunup to sundown in small gangs of
four to ten persons, usually of the same sex, cut off from their friends
and family elsewhere in the plantation. There was land to be cleared
of timber; tobacco weeds to be planted and replanted and planted again;
leaves and stalks to be cut, dried, and packed in hogsheads. There was
scarce time for the slaves to build communities or establish a subculture.
By the late colonial period Maryland was unique, for a variety of reasons,
among the British provinces in North America. One of the most important
ways in which it was a unique colony was the fact that it was still
governed autocratically. Unlike the great landlords of the New York
manors, Frederick Calvert, the sixth and last Lord Baltimore, possessed
a feudal title to the entirety of the province by royal fiat. As colonial
Americans everywhere would begin to view the king of England as their
oppressor in the years immediately preceding the Declaration of Independence,
Marylanders would see the king as the only person with whom they could
redress the transgressions of the proprietor. As a result, many Marylanders
had difficulty choosing sides in the American Revolutionary War. Like
the manor lords of upstate New York, the landed gentry of the Tidewater
faced the very real possibility of an armed loyalist opposition in Maryland
from members of the western "country" party, townspeople, and less wealthy
farmers. Slaves could generally be assumed to take whichever side promised
an easier route to freedom, and when they saw the chance to escape to
a British outpost, they did. In addition, much of Maryland's eastern
shore, cut off from the gentry of Annapolis and Georgetown by the expanse
of the Chesapeake bay, remained loyal to Great Britain for most of the
revolutionary war.
Charles Carroll of Carrollton was the principal actor in the formulation
of an effective compromise. As a delegate to the Maryland Constitutional
Convention of September to November, 1776, he proposed a two-house legislature.
Voters could elect county sheriffs, delegates to the assembly, and an
electoral college for the election of state senators. The relationship
between the two houses was vague, but both houses together elected the
governor. Extreme property qualifications effectively barred all but
the wealthiest men from high office. As undemocratic as it sounds, its
early adoption, along with the forced abdication and forfeiture of lands
owned by Calvert, helped spare Maryland the major social upheavals felt
in places like upstate New York.
But Maryland did not quite share the peaceful fate of its neighbor,
Virginia. Despite the strength and intelligence of Carroll and his cronies,
the Maryland planter class never achieved the level of social control
which planters like George Washington, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson,
and James Madison and their families had enjoyed for decades. For one,
they had been unable to stem the tide of Methodism, which held great
appeal for slaves and poor whites, especially along the eastern shore.
Indeed, slaves and poor whites showed signs of uniting, and for much
of the war armed bands of Tories roamed freely through the Maryland
countryside, although pitched battles between Redcoats and Continentals
never actually occurred in Maryland.
The idea of a constitutional convention originated in Maryland. After
a conference at General Washington's estate in Mount Vernon, Virginia,
dealing with the peculiarities of cross-Potomac trade, a call was made
for delegates from the several states to meet at the Maryland state
capital of Annapolis in 1786 to discuss the difficulties of disunion
posed by the Articles of Confederation. There, a New York delegate named
Alexander Hamilton called for a constitutional convention to take place
in Philadelphia.
Maryland was represented at the Philadelphia convention by James McHenry,
Daniel of St. Thomas Jenifer, and Daniel Carroll. Unlike New Jersey
and Virginia, the state put forth no memorable constitutional plan.
Unlike New York, Maryland had no flamboyant Alexander Hamilton to argue
for controversial stipulations for the document. But Maryland set an
example with its own state constitution: two legislative houses, an
electoral college, and high property qualifications. The state of Maryland
became the seventh state to ratify the United States Constitution on
April 28, 1788.
The city of Baltimore was founded in 1798, and soon came to dominate
trade in the upper Chesapeake. Relying first on trade between Pennsylvania's
Susquehanna river and the lower bay, the city grew in leaps and bounds
and slowly began to develop its own industry and manufacturing by the
1820s ande 1830s. With the invention of the railroad, Baltimore was
linked to the west, and became and important link in the trade route
from the Ohio river.
The institution of slavery recovered in Maryland after the Revolutionary
period, and expanded into new areas of the economy as Maryland began
to diversify its economic base. As elsewhere in the slave-holding South,
Maryland put its slaves to work in urban settings. Slightly more than
half of the slaves in urban areas in the antebellum South worked in
a domestic setting, and the vast majority of these were women.[11]
These slaves did the cooking, cleaning, and miscellaneous household
chores for their masters, usually residing in small dwellings in the
rear areas of their master's lot.[12]
Because domestic slaves represented no threat to white male labor, slave
women often had an easier time adjusting to urban life and were rarely
the victims of labor-related violence. Other slaves, mostly male, held
skilled labor positions and were either hired out by their owners for
a specific period of time or hired out their own time. Some skilled
city slaves lived on their owners' lots, while many others found lodging
for themselves, often near their work and often also in enclaves peopled
almost exclusively by free blacks.[13]
These skilled slaves worked as coachmen, stevedores, draymen, barbers,
Hucksters, and bricklayers.[14]
It is understood that female and male slaves had very different lifestyles,
whether in the city or on the farm, and endured very different experiences,
often based on race. While female slaves will be mentioned from time
to time, the remainder of this thesis concerns itself primarily with
the varying experiences of male slaves, when discussing slavery in Maryland.

It is tempting to see slave life in the antebellum era as the uniform
picture given us by such cinema extravaganzas as Gone with the Wind
and televised melodramas as North and South. These depictions of plantation
life offer an ideal many antebellum planters would prefer projected:
servile, happy slaves who never worked too hard and were handsomely
rewarded with good food and a modicum of affection from their white
masters. Even when one looks at the reality of slave life, it is easy
to see slavery as simply an agricultural enterprise, with slaves as
a labor force. In this version, slaves are used almost exclusively in
the fields of great plantations and hold positions requiring little
or no skill. In fact, the cities of the antebellum South were filled
with slaves as well as free blacks who worked in trades as varied as
the southern cities themselves.
One of the most important ways in which city life differed from rural
life for slaves was their proximity to a large community of free blacks.
This community usually outnumbered slaves in the cities and provided
the slaves with a constant reminder that their racial identity was not
an automatic guarantee of slavery, despite the system's profoundly racial
character. With their status somewhere between the slaves and the whites,
these free blacks showed that blacks were capable of independent living,
working, and thinking. True, free blacks often found themselves treated
little better than slaves and they were often denied the equality under
the law one would expect for free people. And yet their wages were their
own, their time was their own, and they could move about, prior to curfew,
as freely as they chose. Such freedom surely seemed enviable to any
slave who worked side by side with free blacks in such trades as ship-caulking
on Baltimore's Fells Point docks.[15]
Employers often favored slave and free black labor over white workers,
for free blacks had little ground to stand on when demanding higher
pay and better working conditions, and slaves had none. In 1830, when
Irish and Italian immigrant workers forced the end of the black labor
monopoly in the Baltimore ship-caulking industry, employers were forced
to hire white labor, and wages went up.[16]
It was not merely at work that slaves came into contact with free blacks
but at home as well. In the streets outside their homes, slaves and
free blacks would congregate, exchanging information and forging friendships
and sexual partnerships. They frequented restaurants and taverns and
in the process mingled with whites as well.[17]
This close proximity the urban slaves had to free blacks and whites
caused consternation among the white community. Owners, of course, feared
escape (especially in Baltimore, so close to the North), but generally
avoided sending or selling their slaves out of the city. After all,
skilled slaves could earn their owners more money in the city than on
the farm. To the well-to-do and the middle class, the prospect of whites
and blacks coming together as equals was appalling (black-white interactions
af this type usually involved lower-class whites). In every antebellum
southern city including Baltimore, therefore, various ordinances were
passed during the antebellum period to regulate the lives of slaves.
The city provided an environment wherein the status of slavery was relegated
to a mere business arrangement between the slave and the owner. The
owner, therefore, could not be expected to control the behavior of the
slave outside working hours. The city government was expected to fill
that role.[18]
One of the important aspects of the research of Ira Berlin is the division
of slave owning societies into two categories: "slave societies" and
"societies with slaves." The fundamental difference is that in slave
societies, slaves serve as the primary labor force and the economy is
based on goods produced thanks to slavery. Societies with slaves do
not depend on slavery for their economic well-being. While the American
South as a whole was a slave society during the antebellum period, Maryland,
considered separately, was a society with slaves. This is because of
Maryland's location between the free industrial society of the north
and the slave south. Baltimore, in particular, was never a city which
either relied primarily on slave labor (as did Charleston) or traded
primarily in slave-produced products (as did Richmond). While Baltimore
did trade in tobacco grown by slave hands on the eastern shore and in
southern Maryland, Baltimore's economy depended largely on agricultural
goods brought down from Pennsylvania's Susquehanna river and over land
from the Ohio, and upon local industry. Slavery was of course legal
in Baltimore and many slaves did in fact live and work there, especially
on the docks, but Baltimore was never dependent on its slaves for labor.[19]
From 1820-1860, the population of slaves declined every year proportionally,
and in some years, actually.[20]
As a result, Baltimore is an atypical southern city. However, slavery
in Baltimore is typical in that, like slavery in other southern cities,
it helped undermine the slavery system. The very fact that urban slaves
who sought work on their own and lived apart from their owners were
still slaves created fundamental cracks in a system predicated on the
subordination and inferiority of blacks. Here were members of a supposedly
lazy and intellectually feeble race succeeding in their own financial
and residential maintenance. In many cases, these slaves also gained
enough education to read, write, and do simple math.

In 1835, when living in Baltimore with Hugh Auld, the brother of his
master, Frederick Douglass was hired out to William Gardner, a Fells
Point shipbuilder. The purpose of this was for Douglass to learn a trade,
caulking, so as to make him profitable to "Master Hugh." In the three
years during which Douglass was hired out, he was, according to his
narrative, ordered about "at the beck and call of about seventy-five
men" all of whom he was "to regard as masters."[21]
At the end of each week, Douglass would have to report to Hugh Auld
and hand over his wages. Douglass noted that, each time, Auld would
"look me in the face with a robber-like fierceness, and ask, 'Is this
all?'".[22] On the
rare occasions, however, when Douglass earned as much as six dollars
in a week, Auld gave him a reward of six cents. As Douglass reports:
"The fact that he gave me any part of my wages was proof, to my mind,
that he believed me entitled to the whole of them."[23]
Aside from monetary concerns, working conditions were poor as well.
Douglass describes in graphic detail a beating he received at the docks
at the hands of the white workers. In 1838, Douglass obtained permission
to hire himself out and live apart from Auld, with a considerable degree
of freedom. He had to pay for his own room, board and caulking tools,
and would have to pay Auld three dollars every week for the privilege.[24]
Speaking of his post-escape employment in New Bedford, Massachusetts,
Douglass makes the following comparison: "It was the first work, the
reward of which was to be entirely my own. There was no Master Hugh
standing ready, the moment I earned my money, to rob me of it...I was
at work for myself and newly-married wife."[25]
There are, to be sure, other sides to the story. Hugh Auld's writings,
if he left any, would certainly approach the subject of Douglass' being
hired out and subsequent self-hiring from a different point of view.
And one must certainly question (even if Douglass' memory is unimpeachable)
whether other hired-out slaves had similar experiences. To gauge the
percentage of industrial slaves who were beaten by their white co-workers,
for instance, as Douglass records he was, is next to impossible (given
the fact that so many of these crimes probably went unrecorded).
There were two ways to hire out a slave: hiring-out by the owner, and
hiring-out by the slave. The latter category is the one which afforded
the slave the greater degree of freedom: his relationship with the employer
was similar to that of a free man. This is only referring to the slave's
experience at work, of course; it can be supposed that not all slaves
who were allowed to hire themselves out were also allowed to live away
from their owners, although Frederick Douglass certainly was. When the
slave was allowed to live out, those who were hiring themselves out
generally would be expected to provide for their own upkeep with their
wages; those hired out by their masters would generally receive the
regular "benefit" of having their owner or hirer provide them with life's
essentials. In 1833, for instance, Douglass was hired out for a term
of one year to work and live on the farm of Edward Covey, a "slave-breaker"
near Easton on Maryland's eastern shore. For that year, Covey was Douglass'
master in all but title, whipping and driving him as if Douglass were
his own.[26]
The practice of hiring-out can also be divided into two categories
which deal with the nature of the work done: agricultural and industrial
(this excludes housekeeping, work that occurred in both urban and rural
settings, and the conditions of which would probably depend more on
the individual situation than on the question of ownership). While there
may have been instances in agriculture where slaves hired themselves
out, most opportunities occurred in the industrial setting.
For agricultural slave owners, hiring-out was an efficient method of
capitalizing on excess labor. The fixed rental sum guaranteed a profit
to the owner, regardless of the profitability of the agricultural season.
Owners' costs were minimal. Although medical expenses were often the
owner's obligation, room and board was usually covered by the hirer.
For slave owners without land or manufacturing sites, hiring-out was
even more common. Healthy male slaves, for instance, could earn their
owners much more in wages than their use as house servants would save
on household costs. Such was definitely the case with Douglass. Here
gender may also have been a factor, for widows who inherited slaves
were, for a variety of reasons, unlikely to keep large numbers of male
slaves around without some sort of white male supervision. This could
stem not only from the problem of "keeping up appearances" (avoiding
town gossip over sexual issues) but from property laws as well: in some
states, like Maryland, slaves were considered personalty and could thus
be inherited by women outright. Land would more often be inherited by
male heirs.[27]
The benefits sought by slave hirers are analogous to benefits sought
by other short-term investors. There is risk involved, especially in
agriculture: a bad crop could mean a loss of the fee paid for the slave
as well as the cost of board. Yet the purchase price of a slave was
far higher. Renting was not only cheaper than purchase; it also freed
the hirer from any responsibility for slaves who died or got sick from
overwork or disease. In industrial slavery, the benefits were somewhat
different. Accidental death in factories and mines was a grave threat
in the early nineteenth century. The fact that slaves could not organize
for better conditions seems to be the principle reason for Joseph Reid
Anderson's conversion to hired slave labor for the Tredegar Iron Works
in Richmond.[28]
The benefits of hiring-out to the slaves themselves are more difficult
to ascertain. Slaves hired out by their masters lived lives virtually
identical to any experience they would have working directly for their
owners. They were separated from their family and friends, but such
a separation, and on a more permanent basis, was always a threat in
a slave's life. Given the individual variances of "good" masters and
"bad" masters, a slave had no better chance of having a fair master
simply by being hired out. As for the variation in supervision, this
too would depend again on the individual situation. Douglass was supervised
by Edward Covey more strictly than he had been on his owner's farm;
when hired out by Auld in Baltimore to the shipbuilder Gardner, Douglass
went virtually unsupervised during his non-working hours. "When I could
get no caulking to do, I did nothing."[29]
The benefits of hiring-out to slaves can most easily be seen when the
slaves hired themselves out and lived out as well. In such a situation,
the slave was allowed to pay for his weekly "freedom" and could contract
freely with employers who would, at least theoretically, treat him as
they would any freed black. Some slaves actually set up shop on their
own. This privilege was granted to a slave blacksmith who pleaded "'I
would be much obliged to you if you would authorize me to open a shop
in this county and carry it on...I am satisfied that I can do well and
that my profits will amount to a great deal more than any one would
be willing to pay for my hire."[30]
Hiring-out by owners continued to be a thriving practice right up to
the Civil War. It benefited the owner and the hirer but had no certain
benefits for the slave, and thus, posing no threat to Whites, remained
widespread and legal. Slaves benefited only by chance, hoping for a
master kinder than their owner. The practice of slaves being allowed
to hire themselves out, on the other hand, which had direct benefits
for the slaves, "was neither expanding nor flourishing in the last antebellum
decades. Actually, by 1860, it was clearly declining and it had been
made illegal in many areas."[31]
The strengthening of the conviction in the South that slavery was both
good and moral, as regional tensions over the slavery issue increased,
was forcing legislatures to clamp down on all manifestations of freedom
among slaves.

In 1970, Robert Starobin recast the discussion of southern antebellum
industrialization. He posed four questions whose answers would lead
to the conclusion that industrial slavery was viable in the antebellum
period. Those four questions are: 1) was industrial slavery profitable,
2) was industrial slave labor generally as economically efficient as
its alternatives, 3) what are the specific competitive advantages of
industrial slavery, and 4) did southerners have sufficient expendable
capital to support their industries without serious detriment to their
economy.[32]
Slaves were used in a variety of fields in both private and public
industrial enterprises. They were employed in textile mills, iron foundries,
tanneries, sugar mills, cotton presses, and flour mills. They worked
on highways, railroads, rivers, and in mines. They were also employed
in semi-industrial trades, such as in fisheries and in the hauling of
tugboats upstream. In short, there was no industrial trade in the south
which did not, at one time or another, employ slaves. The questions
posed by Starobin can be answered by examining several of the numerous
examples of the use of slave labor in industrial concerns.
First, was industrial slavery profitable? Most industrial enterprises
and transportation concerns employing slaves could expect a minimum
"annual rate of return of about 6 per cent."[33]
In southern textile mills, annual profits usually ranged between 10
and 65 per cent, with an average of 16 per cent. Iron foundries did
nearly as well. One foundry in South Carolina earned 7 per cent annually
during the 1850s, and Richmond's Tredegar Iron Company made "better
than 20 per cent [per year] returns from 1844 to 1861," precisely the
years in which Tredegar was run solely on unfree labor.[34]
During the 1840s, "One hemp manufacturer testified that he realized
more than 42 per cent profits" per year. "A gas works also earned a
10 per cent return in 1854." The extracting industries also found profit
in the employment of slave labor.[35]
Second,was industrial slave labor generally as economically efficient
as its alternatives? The traditional argument against the economic viability
of slavery rests on the assumption that it was more expensive than free
labor. With the influx of impoverished immigrants, especially the Irish
in the 1840s and again especially in Baltimore, one could easily assume
that wage levels for free whites were dropping. Employers need not concern
themselves with the upkeep of free employees, especially with fresh
workers arriving by boat every month. Slaves, on the other hand, required
minimal subsistence levels to remain alive, and a healthy diet to remain
productive. Further, a slave was an investment and a source of credit;
dead, incapacitated, or undernourished slaves could negatively affect
an owner's financial standing. Given these factors, it is easy to conclude
that free labor was in all ways preferable to slave. In fact, however,
this was not the case. First, the cost of free workers never dropped
below the cost of slave upkeep. Many businesses, located far from major
towns, had to provide their white workers with housing. In addition,
as early as 1830 white workers had begun to organize for better pay
and conditions. The influx of immigrants from Europe was driving wages
down, but many industrial concerns, such as the mines of Allegany county
in western Maryland, were located too far away from a point of entry
to benefit directly.
Third, what are the specific competitive advantages of industrial slavery?
Several factors combined to make slave labor economically more viable
than free labor in Southern industry. While wages for free whites had
to provide not only for the upkeep of the worker himself but often for
his wife and family, slave men could be employed in industrial enterprises
while their partners worked as domestics or in agriculture. Duties could
be found for slave children as well, in both industry and agriculture.
And while upkeep for slaves consisted of food, clothing, and shelter,
few whites could be found who would work for lengthy periods of time
at mere subsistence levels. Slaves also had no legal ground from which
to protest their condition; as one state engineer said, "Another disadvantage
attending the employment of white laborers is the fact that they are
more difficult to control than the negro, and when they know you are
most dependent on them they will either demand higher wages or leave
you."[36] Strikes among
white workers occurred in Maryland coal mines in both 1853 and 1854.[37]
Slaves could neither demand better pay and conditions nor simply quit.
They did require more supervision, but the cost of an additonal overseer
did not outweigh the savings in wages.
Finally, did southerners have sufficient expendable capital to support
their industries without serious detriment to their economy? The capital
outlay necessary to acquire a slave labor force proved less real than
hypothetical. Many individuals came into industry as a side line to
their agricultural endeavors, using slaves they already possessed through
inheritance or through natural increase. Even for those who had to purchase
slaves at the outset, there is at least one example of a successful
venture. The plans for the building of a turnpike, which used slaves
purchased in North Carolina, Virginia and Maryland, estimated not only
a profit of $60,00 at the end of the venture, but additional gains from
the resale of 300 slaves.[38]
The use of slaves as industrial labor was propounded in the southern
political arena at three periods during the antebellum era: the 1790s,
the late 1820s, and the 1850s. What is striking about these periods
is their correspondence with moments of crisis in sectional identity.
In the 1790s, the South was expanding slavery as the North was making
plans for gradual emancipation. In the late 1820s, the nullification
crisis, with its issue of state sovereignty, held the nation's attention.
In the 1850s, the potential for Civil War grew into a reality.[39]
Was the call for slave labor in industry part of an attempt to rebut
claims that the slave system was antiquated? Proving that slavery was
compatible with industrialization removes the practical basis for emancipation
and consigns the debate to the realm of morality.
The issue of industrialization based on slave labor aroused political
debate across a broad spectrum. Some slave traders called for reopening
the African slave, using Africans in agriculture while creole slaves
were being put to work in a burgeoning southern industry.[40]
One newspaper envisioned a south that gave primacy to industry over
agriculture: "Imported blacks should build levees and railroads...while
'seasoned' slaves were shunted from the fields to the factories.[41]
Another political impetus toward industrial slavery in the 1850s came
in the wake of land distribution after the Mexican War. As California
was admitted to the Union as a free state and the Kansas-Nebraska Act
of 1854 further limited the potential expansion of slavery, many southerners
felt that the existing southern economy and labor force should be converted
into a system that was not dependent on limitless expansion. Another
paper commented:
"the slave labor of the south will...become the
successful competitor of northern white labor...[and] we will be compelled
to use the surplus black population in cotton and woolen factories [and]
in iron furnaces.... [But] we will have for our market place the whole
habitable globe...we propose...the employment of slave labor in the
construction of rail-roads throughout the southern states, and the use
of negroes in our factories and in our workshops.[42]"
Evidently, this editor hoped that the labor costs would be so cheap
that southern goods would gain the market advantage over not only northern
but British and French goods as well.
The success and profitability of slave labor in southern industry only
intensified the sectional crisis. White southerners grew increasingly
worried as the slave system came under greater attack from the north.
The industrial progress that was occurring was increasingly dependent
on slavery.[43]
Maryland was an exception. Its principal industrial town, Baltimore,
was not as dependent on slavery as were industrial centers in states
further south. Indeed, no examples of Maryland industrial concerns can
be found which depended completely on slave labor. Western Maryland
was peopled in large part by Germans, hostile to slavery because it
undermined their independent yeoman existence, and by Quakers from Pennsylvania,
hostile to slavery for moral and religious reasons. While the use of
slave labor in Baltimore manufacturing and shipping, in western Maryland
mining, and in tugboat hauling and fishery-work on the Potomac persisted,
it never played a prominent enough role to influence Maryland politics
separately from agricultural slavery.
Where industrial slavery did play a significant role is in the difference
it created between slavery in Maryland and the institution in the other
Southern states, and how that difference affected the secession question.
Statesmen in the deep South may have seen industrialization as the first
step toward general emancipation in border states. Seen in this light,
secession was in part a move to consolidate the loyalty of the upper
South (and in that regard it failed). The state of Virginia, perhaps
the one southern state to be more industrialized than Maryland, failed
to secede until after the firing on Fort Sumter, and when it did, it
lost half its territory (which became the new state of West Virginia).
As in Virginia, Marylanders, because of the different way slavery was
used in their state, did not view slavery the same way their brethren
in the deep South did, and this was an important distinction during
the secession crisis.

Free blacks had resided in Maryland almost longer than Maryland had
had slaves, but their numbers had never been so great as during the
antebellum period. Several factors had simultaneously contributed to
this growth. Two major factors were manumission and immigration from
the deep south. The Maryland census of 1830 shows 291,108 white residents,
and 155,932 black, including 102,994 slave.[44]
This made a total population of 447,040, out of which 52,938 were free
blacks. The approximate percentages are 66% white, 22% slave, and 12%
free black. Thus free blacks constituted a significant portion of the
population, and that population rose as the 1860 census reported twice
the number of manumissions as in 1850.[45]
The majority of whites responded negatively to this increased presence
of free blacks in their midst. Many whites may have opposed the presence
of free blacks from outright racism, but often opposition came from
economic grounds--fears that cheap free black labor would lower wage
levels or force whites out of work. Slave owners were concerned that
the presence of free blacks was a reminder to their slaves of the possibilities
of freedom, and a hindrance to the doctrine of racial slavery. A common
opinion among white Marylanders during the antebellum era was that free
blacks harmed the general good of the state and that freed men and women
ought to emigrate from Maryland or be forcefully removed. Government
records demonstrated this view: "At the next session [of the Maryland
House--1842] the delegates from Charles County, to whom the matter had
been referred, presented a lengthy report. The presence of the free
blacks, they said, is deemed as evil by almost everyone, and with continued
increase in their numbers, the whites must eventually amalgamate with
them, or leave the state, or be reduced to slavery."[46]
That same year the House unsuccessfully attempted to enforce emigration.
As one historian observed,
The House [of Delegates of Maryland] passed a bill to
require blacks to take out new freedom papers at charges proportioned
to their age, but the Senate rejected it...but of greater moment seems
the report of a special committee of the House appointed to consider
evidently a proposition that the free blacks of Charles county be removed--that
measures be taken to cause all the free blacks in Maryland to emigrate.[47]
The defeat of such bills is attributable to the group of Marylanders
who were most interested in the retention of free blacks--the nascent
(but growing) class of industrialist entrepreneurs. As Barbara Jeanne
Fields explained: "Regarding the law as 'an attempt to deprive them
of the services of the free [black] population, and compel them...to
hire the surplus slave population,' they 'indignantly rejected' it."[48]
Free blacks worked in trades and occupations similar to their slave
counterparts. The following table taken from The Free Negro in Maryland,
1690-1860 by James Martin Wright conveys the steadily growing numbers
of free Baltimore blacks in particular trades at a variety of times
during the period:
| |
1819 |
1831 |
1840-1 |
1856 |
1860 |
| Blacksmiths |
8 |
13 |
18 |
29 |
30 |
| Barbers |
18 |
12 |
45 |
86 |
117 |
| Caulkers |
4 |
37 |
38 |
75 |
74[49] |
The same source identifies the diversity of trades practiced by free
blacks in the rural Chesapeake. "In Talbot county a certain negro who
was a shoemaker by trade at times turned boat-builder, wagon-maker,
wheelwright and general wood-workman. Anne Arundel, Cecil, and Kent
each had a nearly similar case." Many more free blacks worked in only
one trade, falling back on a second skill only when necessary, "for
instance, blacksmithing and wagon-making, carpentry and cabinet-making
or carpentry and shoemaking."[50]
Those free blacks who remained in agriculture often found their lot
similar in duties but worse in recompense. "On the farms both free negroes
and slaves were hired from Christmas to Christmas, or as in Cecil county
for terms of nine or ten months each."[51]
Yet "the free Negro endured poor living conditions and, in fact, strived
to eat and dress as well as slaves."[52]
They endured similar labor conditions as the slaves but had the added
onus of having to provide for their own upkeep.
Despite their poor lifestyles, legal conditions were more favorable
for free blacks than they were for slaves. While slaves, under normal
circumstances, could neither bring cases to court nor give testimony.
Free blacks "could acquire and dispose of property and bring court action."[53]
Some mild regulations existed against large meetings and assemblies,
but these laws were usually ignored with impunity.[54]
Sometimes loopholes were found. While free blacks were not permitted
to send their children to the tax-supported schools, for instance, some
did form schools on their own.[55]
Employers were often very specific about race in "help wanted" advertisements.
A random sampling of the Sun in 1852 showed needs of varying specificity.
"A woman to cook, wash and iron. None but an American [meaning white
and not Irish] need apply." "Wanted--An American white girl, to do the
cooking, washing and ironing for two in a family.""Wanted to hire, two
servant women...white women preferred."[56]
"Wanted--An experienced white waiter for a private family."[57]
Despite this negative reputation, free black employees were sought
for the social status that came with the perception of slave ownership.
"The advertiser wants to employ a servant woman, colored...also, a colored
man...." "Wanted, a good colored cook...."[58]
"...Also, a small Girl to attend to children--German or colored preferred."[59]
There were those among the white Marylanders who felt they had a solution
to "the Negro problem." In 1831, following in the wake of the establishment
of the African colony of Liberia for American free blacks, The Brawner
Committee was formed in the Maryland House of Delegates to address the
labor situation in Maryland. Their conclusion was that slavery in general
and manumission in particular was leading to widespread emigration of
white workers from the state. One of their recommendations was the formal
chartering of the Maryland state Colonization Society, and with it,
widespread voluntary emigration of free blacks (and slaves, where purchase
or manumission was possible) to a new Maryland, south along the African
coast from Liberia. In March, 1832, the State General Assembly approved
"An Act Relating to the People of Color in this State." The governor
and state council appointed a board of managers and a director who appointed
a staff. A missionary of sorts was hired to travel up and down the Chesapeake
to ask for donations and gather names of prospective emigrants, and
he always returned to Baltimore with reports of scores of potential
emigrants and promises of trunkloads of money. Despite such claimed
enthusiasm for the program and the increasing antipathy of whites to
free blacks, during its 20+ years of existence, the Maryland State Colonization
Society managed to send only one boatload of blacks to Africa, on average,
per year. This amounted in total to but a single year's natural increase
of Maryland's black population. The venture was, therefore, like the
National Colonization Society which sent voluntary emigrants to Liberia,
a failure.[60]
In 1860, on the eve of the Civil War and as sectional tensions were
increasing not only between North and South but between slave-owning
tidewater Maryland and industrializing northern and western Maryland,
the Maryland State government passed a law prohibiting manumissions
in the state. This could be taken as evidence that control of the legislature
was passing from the hands of slaveowners, who had for a long time held
great power based on electoral districts peopled by non-voters [slaves],
into the hands of voters from Baltimore, Frederick, and the rest of
northern Maryland. Manumitted blacks often migrated to Maryland's free
cities, where they could seek a higher standard of living while remaining
close to enslaved loved ones. To emigrate north would mean abandoning
friends and family, and most did not choose this course. This law, a
restriction on the rights of owners to manumit, should be recognized
as a means of checking the growth of the free black population in the
cities of Maryland.
The Civil War made the question of manumission moot, despite continuing
proslavery sentiment. In Maryland, in fact, general emancipation went
into effect prior to the Thirteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.
On April 27, 1864 a state Constitutional Convention was called with
the express purpose of drawing up a new State Constitution which would
provide for the emancipation of all slaves in the state. On November
1, 1864, slavery became illegal in Maryland without compensation to
owners. The history of Maryland's blacks would now be one of free people.[61]

The election of the Republican Presidential candidate, Abraham Lincoln,
in November, 1860 caused great rumblings throughout the slave-holding
south. Lincoln had carried the election without receiving a single slave
state electoral college vote. Yet Maryland differed from the rest of
the South in its failure to give an outright majority to Breckinridge,
the "favorite of the slave-holding extremists."[62]
The county electoral statistics draw what is probably the last true
picture, in such a format, of the sentiments of Marylanders prior to
emancipation. Later elections have since been proven to have been rigged
by Federal troops. The county statistics are also barometers of the
degree to which slavery was important in the various regions of the
state.
| |
Lincoln |
Douglas |
Bell |
Breckenridge |
| Southern |
63 |
700 |
5001 |
5749 |
| Eastern Shore |
251 |
962 |
8906 |
8533 |
| Western |
720 |
1931 |
7704 |
6621 |
| Northern |
167 |
870 |
7545 |
6623 |
| Baltimore City |
1083 |
1503 |
12604 |
14956 |
| Total |
2294 |
5966 |
41760 |
42482[63] |
KEY TO COUNTIES:
Southern: Anne Arundel, Calvert, Charles, Howard, Montgomery,
Prince George's, St. Mary's
Eastern Shore: Caroline, Cecil, Dorchester, Kent, Queen
Anne's, Somerset, Talbot, Worcester
Western: Allegany, Frederick, Washington
Northern: Baltimore excluding the City, Carroll, Harford
The election in Maryland was primarily between Bell, the moderate Southern
Unionist, and Breckinridge, the extreme Southern Democrat. In the southern
counties, where slavery was most prevalent, Breckinridge handily defeated
Bell by 748 votes; on the Eastern Shore, where slavery was nearly as
strong but notions of union were stronger, Bell won by 227 votes; in
the west, where slavery was weakest, Bell defeated Breckinridge by 1083
votes, receiving nearly an outright majority in the region; the same
held true in the northern counties (excluding Baltimore City), where
Bell won by 922 votes; and in Baltimore City, still extremely pro-southern
and pro-slavery in its sentiments (despite not being as dependent on
the institution as other cities, such as Charleston or Mobile), Breckinridge
easily defeated Bell by a margin of 2352, garnering nearly a majority
in that densest region of the state. The final tally gave the state's
electoral votes to Breckinridge, who gained a plurality but defeated
Bell by only 722 votes cast.
The state of South Carolina did not secede until December 20,[64]
but on Monday, December 3, after United States Senators Hammond and
Chestnut of that state failed to appear in session, the Baltimore Sun
printed an editorial explaining "The Crisis" in no uncertain terms.
It stated that "It is a sad fact that this may be--in fact is quite
likely to be--the last session of a Congress for these United States....
Personally messrs. Hammond and Chestnut were very popular in Washington.
...As regards compromise, one proposition is to re-establish the Missouri
line, and extend it to the Pacific--as if revolutions went backwards."[65]
The election of 1860 may have proven to be the death-knell for the
institution of slavery in the United States, but to slaveholders on
Maryland's Eastern Shore, it was business as usual. On Saturday, October
13, two female slaves, each with five more years to serve and each with
a child, slaves for life, were up for sale in separate advertisements
in the Easton Gazette.[66]
On Saturday, December 15, the following advertisement appeared in the
same newspaper: "An OVERSEER wanted for the year 1861. A young man with
industrious and sober habits can obtain a situation by applying to the
editor of the Gazette."[67]
Several months of secession fever culminated with the firing upon Federal
troops at Fort Sumter, South Carolina, on April 12, 1861.[68]
This marked the official outbreak of hostilities between North and South.
The attack on the federal garrison in Charleston's harbor came at the
end of several months of secession fever, as state after southern state
called conventions and voted to leave the union. A secession convention
had been called in Maryland's sister state, Virginia, and Marylanders
watched the proceedings anxiously. Although many Marylanders favored
secession, the state would obviously be helpless should it secede and
Virginia remain in the Union. Maryland would be surrounded by a hostile
nation. Many other leading, if atypical, Marylanders were opposed to
secession in any event. For Henry Winter Davis, U.S. Congressman from
Maryland's Fourth Congressional District (which included Baltimore),
secession and slavery were not legally connected. In a February, 1861
speech, he denied that any state had the right to secede from the Union,
but also denied the right of the Federal government to interfere with
the institution of slavery in the states. "In Maryland, we...cannot
comprehend the right of secession. We do not recognize the right...of
Maryland to repeal the Constitution of the United States; and if any
convention there, called by whatever authority, under whatever auspices,
undertake to inaugurate revolution in Maryland, their authority will
be resisted and defied in arms on the soil of Maryland...." He went
on to state that slavery "exists by state authority. When established,
the Constitution guaranteed it. The impression...that the North design,
at some future time, to destroy slavery, let us propose to quiet forever
that apprehension and anew to consecrate the principle of states rights
to internal matters, by forbidding any change in the Constitution affecting
slavery in the states."[69]
Questions of a secession convention in Maryland had temporarily been
quieted back in December when Governor Thomas Holliday Hicks had determined
not to call a special session of the state legislature for just such
a purpose. In January, the Governor received a petition of 5000 signatures,
headed by U.S. Senator from Maryland Anthony Kennedy, approving of his
decision.[70] But after
Sumter, as Virginia appeared ready to secede, the question was again
on the minds of most whiteMarylanders.
In anticipation of the growing national crisis, President Lincoln ordered
troops from Massachusetts and Pennsylvania to travel south to defend
the capital. On April 19, two thousand such troops arrived at the President
Street Railway Station in Baltimore and commenced to march down Pratt
Street to Camden Yards, from which point they were to ride on to Washington.
Perceiving that these troops were to be used to fight Southerners and
not wishing them to be able to make use of Maryland to do so, a pro-Southern
mob assembled to block the troops advance on Pratt. At first using only
stones and fists, the mob soon gained control of several of the soldiers'
own weapons and used them as well. Bewildered and without orders, the
troops fired upon the crowd. The final death toll was four infantrymen
and nine or ten among the crowd, with many more wounded. The Massachusetts
Sixth Infantry reached Washington later that day, but the Pennsylvania
volunteers returned to Philadelphia.[71]
The incident has since been referred to by Northerners as the Pratt
Street Riot, and by Southerners, who saw it as a part of the general
rebellion of the South, as the Pratt Street Incident. The affair
caused great consternation in the white House, of course, for troops
were increasingly believed to be necessary to defend the city. Baltimore
Mayor George Brown was summoned to Washington along with Governor Hicks
to work out the problem with the president and General Winfield Scott.
Two routes were considered as a solution: by water to Annapolis and
by train from there, or west on foot and wagon around Baltimore. It
was an extraordinary spectacle: the President of the United States and
the general of its armies parleying with a mayor and suspending the
right of national troops to march through his city to save Washington."[72]
In the immediate aftermath of the affair on Pratt Street, Governor
Hicks called a special session of the state legislature to convene at
Annapolis. Since the Democrats controlled the House and the Senate by
a very slim majority, the Governor hoped that they would not renew demands
for a secession convention. More importantly, Hicks could use this to
placate the extremists, who felt that more positive moves ought to be
made toward that end.[73]
Still, when the legislature was forced to convene at Frederick because
Federal troops had occupied the state capital, the situation did not
look altogether hopeful for the anti-secession forces. Indeed, on the
first day of the session (April 26), a memorial from Prince George's
County in Southern Maryland was read which called for the immediate
passage of an act of secession. But the Senate promptly replied that
"We know that we have no Constitutional authority to take such action.
You need not fear that there is any possibility that we will do so."[74]
The difficulties experienced by the Lincoln administration in Baltimore
would soon be dealt with militarily. On May 13, Lincoln ordered General
B.F. Butler to take possession of Federal Hill and train his cannon
on the city of Baltimore. Federal troops were placed at other crucial
positions throughout the state shortly thereafter, including the railroad
depots, and Maryland would remain under martial law for the remainder
of the war. In the face of General Butler's move, the Maryland state
legislature adjourned until June 4.[75]
On that date, the legislature reconvened to hear the reports from two
peace delegations earlier sent out from the state: one to speak with
Lincoln, and the other to speak with Jefferson Davis. The state of Maryland,
as a crucial border state, was attempting to play the role of arbiter
with these delegations, as some of its finest orators had attempted
at the earlier Peace Conference (people like Reverdy Johnson, pushing
for a reconsideration of the Crittenden compromise). The delegation
to Davis reported that it had met with the Confederate President and
that his position was defensive, seeking only the independence of the
new nation. The delegation to Lincoln had been unable to meet with the
President, and had given up their mission as useless after the firing
on Fort Sumter.[76]
The state legislature convened until June 25, and met again from July
30 to August 7. Since the unanimous decision of the Senate to reply
the Prince George's County call for secession, the only major legislation
on the question was a resolution stating that Maryland would not aid
in the forceful return of secessionist states to the Union. This had
conciliated the southern sympathizers and given Maryland secessionists
(as well as the Lincoln administration) reason to believe that the earlier
decision might yet be overturned. They set a date of September 17 for
their next session, at which time it was believed by the Lincoln administration
and the secessionists that the state would indeed secede.[77]
That was not to be the case. The commander of Union forces in the state,
General N. P. Banks, received a letter on September 11 from the Secretary
of War stating that "The passage of an act of secession by the legislature
of Maryland must be prevented. If necessary, all or part of the members
must be arrested."[78]
Shortly thereafter, legislators from throughout the state were arrested
and sent first to Fort McHenry and later to New York City. They served
no more than fourteen months in prison, making secession impossible
until the 1861 elections could be rigged (by Northern soldiers who not
only voted themselves but prepared a color code for ballots, turning
away voters with secessionist colors) to produce a unionist state legislature.
The legislature elected later in the year would indeed have a majority
of Constitutional Unionists (Republicans); the would almost have a majority
of emancipationists.[79]
Many historians tend to believe that secession in Maryland would have
been a foregone conclusion had the federal government allowed for an
honest plebiscite and open convention.[80]
Secession in Maryland, they argue, was prevented by the Lincoln administration
for fear the national capital would be surrounded by hostile states.
Yet that is not necessarily the case. While the retention of Maryland
in the Union was indeed paramount to the Lincoln administration, and
while the federal government did indeed intervene to ensure that secession
did not occur in that state, the decision of the electorate of Maryland
to secede was not a foregone conclusion. The most obvious evidence of
this is in the election returns for the 1860 presidential race. While
the state did vote for Breckinridge, the favorite of those in the states
which later seceded, its electorate did so only by a plurality of votes.
The majority of the Maryland electorate, in all four regions including
Baltimore City, voted for Bell, Douglass, or Lincoln, candidates not
favored by the secessionists. Certainly had Virginia not seceded Maryland
would not have done so either, and it was in Virginia that the hardest
battle for secession was won. There were several important reasons why
Maryland would have remained in the Union even if there had been a secession
convention. One of the most obvious reasons was military geography.
While Virginia had a natural defensibly border against the North in
the Potomac river, no natural defense protected Maryland from the neighboring
states of Pennsylvania and Delaware. If Maryland seceded, it would become
the battleground between the armies of the South and the North.
A good way to examine the feelings of Marylanders on the issue of secession
is to break down would-be secessionists by class and occupation. Slave
holders, for instance, would have been the most likely to vote in favor
of secession. It was they who, in the southern region and in Baltimore
City, nearly gave Breckinridge a majority. But one must be careful not
to lump all slave holders together into one class. One must also be
careful not to assume that Maryland slave holders all had very large
plantations and hundreds of slaves. In fact, it was quite the opposite.
The average private slave holding in Maryland was between 1 and 4 slaves,
with only 34 percent ever owning more than 10, and only 3 percent ever
owning more than 50.[81]
As many were among the best educated citizens in the state, most Maryland
Slave holders were in favor of gradual emancipation and many had regularly
manumitted their slaves (either at the time or in their wills) until
the passage of the state anti-manumission Act of 1860. To be sure, many
slave holders favored secession, and quite a few crossed the Potomac
to join the Confederate armies. But many were Unionists above all else.
The most important factor in Maryland's remaining in the Union, of course,
was the constant presence of Federal troops in key locations, Lincoln's
declaration of Marshall law, the arrest of leading Maryland secessionists,
and the suspension of the writ of habeus corpus. These factors made
a convention, let alone secession, impossible in that state.
Maryland slave traders opposed secession for their own reasons. They
did a thriving business selling Maryland slaves to the cotton South,
and felt sure one of the first acts of the new Southern Confederacy
would be to re-open the African slave trade. This move would drastically
lower the price of their Maryland slaves.
Slaveless farmers in Maryland were a group perhaps hardest to guage
in terms of secession sentiment. The typical slaveless farmer lived
in western Maryland and was the second- or third-generation descendent
of German or Quaker Pennsylvanians. These people were often abolitionists,
but more often opposed slavery for economic reasons. Slave holding,
they believed, constituted an unfair advantage, both at the market and
at the polls. The slave holders relied on unpaid labor, much of it inherited
and much more born into their possession, while the slaveless farmer
relied on the sweat of his own brow and paid wages to those employees
he had. At the polls, voters in districts with a high slave population
had greater representation than those in districts with few slaves,
in both federal and state government elections (more so in the latter).
Slaveless farmers could have believed what propaganda the South published
denying that slavery was at the root of secession, but most knew that
the power structure in the secessionist states favored slave holders
and the slaveless farmers of western Maryland tended to distrust that
power.
The sentiments of Baltimoreans on the issue of secession were complex.
While it may have been true that a near-majority were southern sympathizers,
it was also true that the city's commerce did not rely or depend on
slavery or slave labor as southern cities like Savannah did. The elected
officials of Baltimore (with the notable exception of Henry Winter Davis)
spent the late 1850s increasingly antagonistic to the needs of the free
black population and supported slavery more as a way to keep the black
population in the city low than out of any sense of its moral rightness.
Many merchants in Baltimore saw alignment with the South as a means
to enhance the city's importance, making it the New York of the Confederacy.
Many more pointed out that the dissolution of the union between Maryland
and the United States would cut off the crucial trade with Pennsylvania
and the Ohio valley. Had it come down to a vote, it is difficult to
determine which direction the electorate of Baltimore City would have
gone.

The war threw the institution of slavery in the state of Maryland into
turmoil. Many people in the state perceived that slavery was their enemy,
despite the public anti-abolition rhetoric of such local statesmen as
former United States Attorney General Reverdy Johnson, United States
Representatives Henry Winter Davis and J. Morrison Harris of Baltimore,
and Governor Thomas Holliday Hicks, and did what they could to undermine
it. Union soldiers from the North often saw Maryland slaveowners as
their enemy, regardless of Union sympathy, and took every opportunity
to liberate their slaves in an effort to hurt them. The owners regarded
this as theft, but often felt powerless to press any charges against
soldiers who seemed to have the full authority of the Federal government
behind them. Often owners would request compensation from Washington.
These requests were usually met with demands for proof. Such proof was
exceedingly difficult to come by as owners were rarely allowed to visit
their escaped slaves in the Union camps where they were usually employed.[82]
In many cases the slaves took the initiative of securing their own
freedom. Despite the fact that the Federal government did not promise
freedom to any slaves in Maryland until long after the state legislature
had already passed the emancipation act of 1864, slaves abandoned their
masters in numbers not seen since the immense upheavals of the revolutionary
epoch. They ran to Union lines, where they were employed in various
menial tasks; they ran to Washington after the district emancipated
its slaves; they ran north; or they remained in their locality, causing
what the local whites undoubtedly referred to as "trouble."[83]
As a result of these liberations and escapes, and due also to the fact
that many southern-sympathizing owners fled across the Potomac when
it became apparent that Maryland was not to secede, slave life in southern
Maryland and along the Eastern Shore was thrown into confusion. Slaves
knew that their masters could not control them, and therefore submission
and obedience diminished. The situation looked as bleak for the 1862
harvest as it did for the future of the institution.[84]
The Maryland state legislature attempted to address the problem in
December, 1861. "Resolved...that a joint committee...be appointed...whose
duty it shall be to proceed forthwith to Washington and request an interview
with Major General McClellan, and to solicit the adoption of some plan
to prevent the admission of fugitive slaves within the lines of the
army."[85] They went
further in March: "If any slave shall escape from his owner by being
transported on any such railroad, steamboat, towboat or other vessel,
the master or owner of such slave shall and may recover the value of
such slave from the President, Directors, and Company of such railroad,
or the owner and Captain of such steamboat, towboat or other vessel
(as the case may be), by action in any of the courts of law in this
state."[86] All legislative
attempts to return the institution to normal were destined to fail,
however, and escapes and liberations by Federal troops increased as
the war wore on, especially with such seemingly external federal declarations
as the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia and Lincoln's
Emancipation Proclamation.
The majority of Marylanders who fought in the Civil war fought on the
side of the North. In fact, after Congress passed the draft act, it
turned out that four Maryland counties had far exceeded their quotas:
Allegany and Washington in the west, and Cecil and Kent at the northern
end of the Eastern Shore.[87]
During the course of the war, Maryland put 46, 638 soldiers into the
field on the side of the Union.[88]
The Maryland Union units included three regiments of Cavalry, six batteries
of light artillery, and nineteen regiments of infantry. There was also
the Fourth Maryland Infantry Regiment, known as the German riflemen,
who were later consolidated into other units. Of the Marylanders who
fought for the Union, the overwhelming majority of them (44,973) were
volunteers. There were only 1,426 draftees and 2,456 substitutes.[89]
Obviously all Marylanders who fought for the South were volunteers,
either by actually volunteering for military service or by volunteering
by escaping to the South over the Potomac. As Fred Albert Shannon claims,
some 20,000 Marylanders fought for the South, almost all from the southern
counties of Maryland; in fact, almost all of those Maryland soldiers
who fought for the South came from these counties.[90]
"Unable to secure secession in the state but determined that Maryland
be represented in the Confederacy, many southern sympathizers from these
areas found their way into the Confederate army."[91]
Perhaps the most famous of these Marylanders was General Jubal Early,
who distinguished himself at the battles of Gettysburg, The Wilderness,
Spotsylvania Courthouse, and Petersburg as the commander of a division
in the army of the Virginian Robert E. Lee. Early, who had served in
Stonewall Jackson's corps, was never promoted to the rank of Corps Commander
although his remarkable abilities as an officer obviously outdistanced
many of those in Stonewall's corps who were promoted in his stead.[92]
Maryland saw two important military campaigns cross its borders during
the Civil War. The first was the Antietam campaign, in September of
1862; the second was the Gettysburg campaign, in July of 1863.[93]
After the Union disaster at the battle of Second Manassas in July of
1862, General Robert E. Lee resolved to take the war into Maryland and
the north for the first time in the war. Lee's idea was to enter the
north, striking deep into Maryland and perhaps even Pennsylvania, and
then turn right to threaten Washington. Lee's goals were the recruitment
of fresh troops from Maryland, fresh supplies, and relief for the farmers
of war-torn Virginia. James Longstreet's corps, accompanied by Lee,
moved north to the town of Sharpsburg, in Washington county, Maryland.
To maintain his meager gains, Lee knew he had to block Union General
George McClellan. In the mountains between Sharpsburg and Frederick,
he pitted some twenty-five thousand men against McClellan's eighty-seven
thousand-man juggernaut. The southerners were forced to give way, and
by September 15, 1862, battle lines had been drawn across the Potomac
tributary Antietam Creek, which runs to the east of Sharpsburg. That
same day Harper's Ferry surrendered to Stonewall Jackson, and by the
sixteenth Jackson was with Lee in Sharpsburg, swelling the still-outnumbered
Confederate army to 40,000. A.P. Hill's division remained at Harper's
Ferry.
The battle of Antietam Creek (Sharpsburg to the southerners), the bloodiest
single day in American history, took place in three phases. First was
the cornfield, where Jackson's and northern General Hooker's men fell
in rows between the bullet-cut cornstalks as they marched; next came
the sunken road, now called "Bloody Lane," where Union General Edwin
V. Sumner's corps walked into an empty field with little cover only
to find southerners under D.H. Hill, protected by a recessed road, who
used them for target practice; and finally there was the long, indecisive
afternoon at a bridge crossing the creek, to the south of town, where
Ambrose E. Burnside's troops finally crossed, after having been held
back by some four hundred Georgians all day, and advanced almost into
town before A.P. Hill, freshly arrived from Harper's Ferry, drove them
all the way back to the bridge. Twenty-three thousand, one hundred and
ten Americans fell that day. Free and liberated Maryland blacks were
used to remove the bodies and dig graves.
As indecisive as the battle may have been, it did send Lee back into
Virginia. He had failed to successfully carry the war into the north.
Lee had found discovered what most Marylanders already knew: that western
Maryland had no sympathy for the Confederate cause. Lee had not found
any new recruits among the Marylanders, and the locals had not exactly
jumped at the chance to supply him with food and clothing for his men.
The most important result of the battle, however, was not military.
The victory gave President Lincoln the opportunity to proclaim the Emancipation
of all slaves held in bondage in the secessionist states. The Emancipation
Proclamation may not have actually freed any slaves, but it did change,
to a great extent, the goals of the war.
Nearly a year after Antietam, General Lee made another attempt at a
northern invasion, and he chose roughly the same route. This time he
made it all the way into Pennsylvania before he was stopped in three
singularly bloody days in and around the town of Gettysburg. On this
campaign, Lee fostered little illusions about the sentiments of western
Marylanders--they were obviously just as Unionist as the residents of
the newly-created thirty-fifth state, West Virginia.
According to deductions that can be made from at least one newspaper,
not only did Unionist sentiment pervade the western region, but the
absence of the most vehement of Maryland's fire-eaters was making it
possible for a Unionist propaganda campaign in the southern region and
on the Eastern Shore. On June 14, 1862, a Unionist poem (by "Cymon")
appeared on the front page of the Easton Gazette, a newspaper published
in the heart of the slave owning Eastern Shore, in Talbot county, where
Frederick Douglass was born. The poem eulogized all of the states which
had remained in the union, including Maryland: "Maryland, tho' torn
by faction's power/and rent by civil feuds/proved her devotion in that
hour/and traitors' wiles withstood."[94]
Not a single advertisement relating to slavery appeared in that edition,
excepting that of one James D. Mansfield of St. Michaels, who was trying
to sell "SERVANT'S WEAR--Blue denims, heavy plantation drills at the
old prices."[95] Was
he attempting to unload useless goods or purvey to the slaveholding
community?
By 1863 all but the staunchest defenders of slavery in Maryland realized
that the days of the peculiar institution had come to an end in their
state (and most of the staunchest had fled). On April 20 of that year,
a group of Ultra-Unionists headed by Governor Bradford, ex-Governor
Hicks, and Postmaster-General Montgomery Blair converged on the Maryland
Institute in Baltimore. There, they publicly demanded an act of general
emancipation for the slaves of the state and the acceptance of President
Lincoln's offer for compensation to slaveowners. This caused a split
in the Maryland Unionist (Republican) party, the banner to which so
many had flocked after the commencement of hostilities. The rift was
not over whether or not Maryland would emancipate its slaves, but over
how to do it. The "Conditional Unionists" believed that an amendment
should be made to the State Constitution of 1851, while the "Unconditional
Unionists" believed that an entirely new State Constitution should be
written.[96]
The state elections of 1863 would decide the question. Again, state
polling places were heavily guarded by Union soldiers who in many cases
actually voted; and again a color code system was used to deny the right
of the secret ballot, and many Democratic voters were turned away. Given
these factors, it is surprising the Democrats did as well as they did.
The Democrats won the southern region and the Eastern Shore, while the
"Unconditional Unionists" edged out their intra-party rivals in the
west, the north, and the city of Baltimore, winning a majority in both
houses of the state legislature. A new State Constitution was drafted
the following April and in October, 1864, Maryland saw the abolition
of slavery within its own borders and without, as it happened, any compensation
for slaveowners.[97]

Given the rapid industrialization which continued after the war, Maryland
blacks turned increasingly to employment in the industrial centers of
Baltimore, Frederick, and Cumberland. The 1880 census lists 210,230
black Marylanders. Of this number, 53,716, or nearly twenty-five percent,
resided in Baltimore.[98]
Most former slaves, however, continued to reside in or near their former
homes, i.e. in the rural areas of southern Maryland and the eastern
shore, working for their former masters. By 1900, the census reported
that only 2,882 out of a total 46,012 farms in the state were owned
and operated by blacks; of the 5,170,075 acres the state had under cultivation,
only 374,301 were being farmed by black landowners.[99]
For those blacks who resided in the cities following the war, a very
few managed to attain prominence in business, but the majority remained
penniless. While it was reported in 1900 that one black man owned "a
score of houses and...$50,000 in cash; one of the best...jewelry stores
belongs to another; [and] a third has the best beef trade in town,"[100]
the same source also pointed out that, when it came to the black community,
"all the wealth of any amount was held by less than 2,000 individuals.
There were probably about 205,000 who owned nothing."[101]
Maryland in 1865 may have seemed unrecognizable to the traveler who
had not visited the state since the 1850s, but in many ways the changes
which the state had undergone were based on social and economic changes
which had already been taking place before the war. The industrialization
taking place in Baltimore and other towns continued after the war, growing
in leaps and bounds with the advent of new technologies. Blacks still
constituted an important component in the state workforce, and in many
instances labor conditions became harder after slavery, just as they
had for freed slaves of earlier generations.
Economically, the war connected Maryland inextricably to the north.
Having emancipated its slaves prior to the end of the war, and already
having a mixed system combining industry with agriculture, Maryland's
economy in 1865 no longer resembled that of a southern state. In addition,
the war had severed Baltimore's connection to the hinterland trade center
of St. Louis and made impracticable the Susquehanna trade. By the time
St. Louis recovered from the devastation of the war, Chicago had secured
dominance in the west. When the war ended, therefore, Baltimore's position
as the great challenger to the supremacy of New York had ended.
As a border state, Maryland played a pivotal role in the antebellum
era and during the Civil War. The state straddled the fence between
slavery and freedom, between agriculture and industry, between defeat
and victory, and between slavery and freedom. What made Maryland unique
was what made the state vibrant and interesting. As a state which had
not secede