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E N Q U I R E R   L O C A L   N E W S   C O V E R A G E
Wednesday, November 10, 1999

Tug of war over a 'holy place'


Ky. slave jail puts history groups at odds

BY PATRICK CROWLEY
The Cincinnati Enquirer

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Jerry Gore of Morehead is against moving the jail.
(Lee Redmond Jr. photo)
| ZOOM |
        GERMANTOWN, Ky. — On a rolling tract of rich Mason County farmland, inside a big white tobacco barn not far off Ky. 10 is, oddly, another smaller building. The smaller building speaks of human misery.

        It is a 170-year-old log structure where men and women were kept shackled to the floor and behind barred windows, denied the freedom that could be found just a few miles to the north, across the Ohio River.

        It was a jail, a holding cell for slaves. The Underground Railroad never made it here.

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Carl Westmoreland of the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center speaks about the importance of the slave jail.
(Patrick Reddy photo)
| ZOOM |
        Steeped in the tragic history of an unconscionable practice, the slave jail provides a vivid reminder of a time when slaves were sold like the animals that shared this barnyard.

        The National Underground Railroad Freedom Center, the museum to be built on Cincinnati's riverfront, is preparing to move the slave jail from the farm of Ray Evers. It would eventually be displayed as one of the centerpieces of the $80 million museum.

        The state of Kentucky is gearing up to fight the move. Historic preservation officials say the jail should remain in Kentucky and in its original location.

        Standing in the cabin, Carl Westmoreland, a member of the Freedom Center's staff, contemplated the dilemma.

        “This place, this terrible place, has a story to tell,” he said, looking up at one of the iron rings embedded in a wall used to chain his ancestors. “It must be seen, it must be experienced, or the lesson is lost.

map
        “And then what happened here is lost.”

        Mr. Westmoreland calls the jail a solemn and holy place, and it does have the atmosphere of a sanctuary or tomb.

        But he is both moved and disturbed by the building.

        “It looks like an upside-down slave ship,” he said.

        Little light seeps in through the barn's cracks and openings, yet the wind makes an easy entrance, howling as it breaks an unsettling quiet.

        The jail is large, 25 feet high and 25 feet across, according to measurements made by Jake Thamann of Fort Mitchell, a preservationist helping prepare the building for the move to Cincinnati.

        The logs are 9 inches thick. The floor was wood, uncommon at that time, and a large fireplace took up nearly one whole wall of the cabin.

        The barn was built around the jail about 100 years ago. Common practice at the time was to make use of any existing structure by building onto or around it. The jail's sturdy timbers were used to hang tobacco.

        “You could tell they wanted a good, sturdy building,” Mr. Thamann said, “I guess to make sure the people in here stayed here.”

        This is a part of the country known for its involvement in the Underground Railroad, the secret and daring scheme of routes, paths and hiding places that people used to smuggle slaves to freedom in the north.

        Nearby Ohio River towns like Maysville, Ky., and Ripley, Ohio, were well-known Underground Railroad stops.

        But there is also a stark historical contrast in these parts — evidence of an active and cruel slave trade.

        “My great-grandfather was a slave in Mason County,” said Jerry Gore of Morehead, Ky., who is active in African-American history and causes and who doesn't want the slave jail moved.

        “I can understand why the Freedom Center wants to move (the jail), but it needs to stay here,” he said. “This is sacred ground to me and other descendants of slaves. It should be seen in this context, because this is what our people had to experience. We should experience that, too.”

        Historical documents and newspapers provide accounts of how the jail was used in the slave trade.

        Slaves came into the region from traders based in Virginia or those who received slaves from ships coming to America from the west African coast.

        Many were sold to Bolton & Dickens Co. of Lexington, Ky., which in the 1850s was one of the largest slave-trading firms in the South. The firm had branch offices in Memphis; Charleston, S.C.; Natchez, Miss.; St. Louis; and New Orleans, according to The Filson Club History Quarterly of 1938.

        Bolton & Dickens dealt often with a slave trader named James McMillen, who sometimes worked out of Maysville. Documents show that slaves were sold for prices that ranged from $500 to $1,700 and stayed at the Mason County slave jail while being transported from the East to their new owners in the South.

        The setup was not uncommon. Similar jails were located in New Orleans; Lexington; and Richmond, Va., according to the historical documents.

        The slave trade was brutal, rife with unsavory businessmen and opportunists.

        An 1857 account tells the story of James McMillan selling a 16-year-old slave to Issac Bolton of Dickens & Bolton. After the slave was sold, the new owner learned that Mr. McMillan had captured the boy, who was actually a free man.

        Mr. Bolton confronted Mr. McMillan in Tennessee. The two fought and Mr. McMillan was killed.

        Mr. Bolton stood trial but spent more than $100,000 on attorney fees, paying witnesses and bribes, according to a story of the trial published in a Memphis newspaper.

        “It was like a drug deal going bad, with two guys fighting over crack,” Mr. Westmoreland said.

        The Freedom Center signed a contract with Mr. Evers last year that stipulates the museum can have the slave jail as long as it pays for the move and replaces the barn, which will have to be torn down.

        “Who's going to see this in the middle of an alfalfa field?” Mr. Westmoreland said. “How are we going to learn from it if we can't let people see it?”

       



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