Out of History’s Shadow – The Story of Alfred Croghan – Part 1

Alfred and Rose, portrayed by Sidney and Xavier, in the hearth kitchen at Historic Locust Grove in Louisville, Kentucky. – Photo by Heather R. Hiner/Fox and Rose Photography.

In my previous post, I shared the story of an enslaved man named Alfred who was most likely sold by the Croghan family of Historic Locust Grove as punishment for an unknown act.  This post begins a series on the life of a second man, Alfred Croghan.

For the most part, the enslaved people who lived and labored at Locust Grove in Louisville, Kentucky are poorly documented.  When I started this research project, Alfred Croghan was documented better then most. But “better than most” is a low bar. I knew his first name, the approximate year of his birth, and that he had spent part of his adult life at Mammoth Cave.  After many, many hours of research and with the help of librarians, archivists, and others, I am excited to share that Alfred Croghan has gone from being poorly documented to being the first enslaved person owned by the Croghan family that we can trace from a child at Locust Grove to his death as a free man in Louisville.

Alfred’s first documented appearance may be in the 1820 Census.  According to the census, half of the enslaved people living at Locust Grove were 14 or younger.  I cannot be entirely sure that Alfred is one of the children listed in the census because the only person listed by name is the head of the household, Major William Croghan.  Major Croghan’s family and the enslaved people he owned are not listed by name.

1820 Federal Census for William Croghan (highlighted in yellow).  Alfred Croghan may have been one of the eight male enslaved children seen in the census (highlighted in orange).

I have not come across any records of births of enslaved children at Locust Grove.  However, I am pretty confident that Alfred was born in 1820 based on some wonderful photographs I will share in a future post about Alfred.  The census was taken in August of 1820, which means if Alfred was born before August, he is one of the eight enslaved male children living at Locust Grove who were recorded on the census.

Portrait of William Croghan, Jr.
by James Reid Lambdin

The only real glimpse of Alfred’s childhood that we have is a letter written by William Croghan, Jr. to his three year old son, William Croghan III in 1828.  In fact, it is the best account of enslaved children in general that we have and is a treasure trove of information.

“Locust Grove, Fall, 1828

…If you were only here now to see the dear little calves, & the lambs & little pigs – You never saw so many pigs & only to think how you would find the ducks & your eggs.  Little Abe & Al, find the most & Al comes in & says “here old mister here is egg, now give me cake” & then away he runs & then Abe he comes in with his – Little Tommy & Susan live at the river, but they come up here of a Sunday to see us all” –

Little Harvey wants to go with me to Pitts; he says he belong to you.  Little Bob lives in town & is learning to be a barber. He lives with the black Barber than once cut your hair –”…

Excerpt, William Croghan Jr. to his three year old son, William Croghan III  – Locust Grove Manuscripts

Portrait of Mary Croghan Schenley
by James Reid Lambdin

Based on a birth year of 1820 and with no other records pointing to another man around the same age with the same name owned by the Croghans, it is a near certainty that “Al” is an eight year old Alfred Croghan.  It’s an account that shows an exuberant boy who is bold enough to be a bit cheeky with William, Jr.

William Croghan, Jr. inherited Locust Grove from his father in 1822 and continued to live there until the death of his wife in October of 1827.  Devastated by his loss, William and his children moved to Pittsburgh where he could manage his late wife’s estate. He wrote the above letter to his son in Pittsburgh one year after the death of his wife while he was visiting Locust Grove.  

Pittsburgh also became a part of Alfred’s story.  John Abbott met Alfred during a visit to Mammoth Cave in 1854 and shared that “Alfred formerly belonged to Miss Mary Croghan [daughter of William Croghan, Jr.]… After she went to England, she gave Alfred to some of her relatives, and he belonged to Dr. Croghan at the time of his [Dr. Croghan’s] death…”

Being moved to Pittsburgh to serve William’s daughter, Mary, followed by being passed between other members of the Croghan family would have been an experience Alfred shared with other enslaved people owned by the Croghans.  It was a common practice for the Croghans to loan, buy, or sell enslaved people who belonged to their family amongst themselves.

Under the ownership of Dr. John Croghan, William, Jr.’s, oldest brother, Alfred would become one of the enslaved guides of Mammoth Cave. Working alongside the storied Stephen Bishop, Materson Bransford, and Nicholas Bransford, Alfred would leave his own marks at the cave and become a part of it’s history.  And that’s a story for the next blog post, so stay tuned!

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Untangling the Past – Alfred’s Story

 

First person interpreters, Sydney and Xavier portray Rose and Alfred in the hearth kitchen at Historic Locust Grove. (Photo by Heather R. Hiner of Fox and Rose Photography.)

There are several letters in the Croghan family papers that mention an enslaved man named Alfred. These letters span many years and until recently, it was assumed they were all part of the story of one enslaved man.  However, as I started cross referencing the Croghan family letters with documents I had found in other repositories, it quickly became apparent that there were actually two men of different ages being discussed. While untangling the lives of these two men has answered some questions, many more have bubbled to the surface as new, tantalizing details emerge.

This post will share the story of the first of the two men, who was simply known as Alfred.  There are no documents that list a last name for him. Upcoming posts in the series will share the story of a man who did take a last name for himself, Alfred Croghan. The stories of both men give us insight into different roles enslaved men played in the Croghan household while also exposing the lack of control they had over their own lives.

Alfred’s story begins abruptly in May of 1825. While it may change in the future, we currently have no information about Alfred’s life before this time.  He is first mentioned in a letter from Ann Croghan Jesup, who was living in Washington DC, to her mother Lucy Croghan at Locust Grove, near Louisville, Kentucky.  Ann was not the only person from the Croghan household to relocate from Louisville to Washington DC when she married Thomas Sydney Jessup. Leaving behind friends and possibly family, at least three enslaved people owned by the Croghans, including Alfred, also went with Ann to help establish her new household.

An 1828 map of Washington DC. According to the 1827 Washington Directory, the Jesups lived on I Street, NW between 16th and 17th streets. Ann relates in a letter that the Jesups lived close enough to the President’s House to be able to see it from their home. (De Krafft, F. C, W. I Stone, and John Brannan. Map of the city of Washington. [Washington, D.C.?: John Brannan, 1828] Map. Retrieved from the Library of Congress])
Our first reference to Alfred is tantalizingly small, but we can still glean some of his personality from it.

“Old Mrs. Calhoun has been here, no kind of wether stops her, I don’t know which she talked most about her Methodist coachman who has run away and gone she thinks to New York “the cunning fellow to wate until his new cloth were finished & then march off with himself” – or her grand daughter that is a month old today “tis a wonderful fine child” I had a mind to ask as Alfred did, “if she was cutting teeth” the one before this is six weeks younger than Lucy Ann, & is not near so large nor can’t walk one step.” (Ann Croghan Jesup to Lucy Croghan, May 19, 1825, Croghan Family Letters – Filson Historical Society)

A letter mentioning Alfred dated May 19, 1825. (Croghan Family Letters – Filson Historical Society)

Ann, the proud mother of Lucy Ann, seems to enjoy Alfred’s sarcastic response to the doting grandmother proudly expounding upon (and possibly exaggerating) the qualities of her latest grandchild. However, there is always a line that could not be crossed and while it doesn’t seem to be an issue here, this may ultimately play a hand in Alfred’s fate.

The 1830 Federal Census reveals a free white woman, four free persons of color, and two enslaved people shouldered the domestic work in the Jesup household. Because Alfred was moved back and forth between the Croghan and Jesup households, it is not known if the enslaved man listed in the census in 1830 is Alfred or another man named David.

A short four months later, we find Alfred back in Louisville and Lucy Croghan is visiting her daughter, Ann, in Washington DC.  While she is away, Lucy’s eldest son, Dr. John Croghan is overseeing things at Locust Grove. Ever the dutiful son, Dr. Croghan includes news of how things are going at home in a letter to Ann’s husband, Thomas Sidney Jesup.

“Inform her [Lucy Croghan] that every thing goes on here exceedingly well. The women have dried a great deal of fruit, and are at their houses spinning wool or cotton or something of that kind. Old Nanny officiates for me in the cooking department. Two churns are going daily. Alfred goes to market almost every day & gives the profits to Larriway.” (John Croghan to Thomas Sidney Jesup, Sept. 8, 1825 – Locust Grove Manuscript Collection)

We don’t know why Alfred was back in Kentucky, but it was a common occurance to move enslaved people between Croghan family members.  We can glean from this letter that Dr. Croghan trusted Alfred enough to carry goods to be sold in town and transport the profits from selling those goods.

What happens next is still a mystery to be solved and Alfred’s story ends as abruptly as it began.  Nine years of his life passes without documentation and what we do have is frustratingly only a small part of the story.  The final two letters we have show us that Alfred is back in Washington DC with Ann Croghan Jesup and her family.

Letter from Dr. John Croghan to Thomas S. Jesup about Alfred. (John Croghan to Thomas S. Jessup, September 29, 1834 – Library of Congress)

“As it respects Alfred I am in hopes that you will that which you deem best.”  (John Croghan to Thomas S. Jessup, September 29, 1834 – Library of Congress)  

We learn that something has happened with Alfred and that Dr. Croghan trusts his brother-in-law’s ability to handle the situation.  Dr. Croghan will quickly send a second letter a few days later, that includes his mother, Lucy’s feelings on the matter.

Instructions from Lucy Croghan to Thomas S. Jesup in regards to the “improper” behavior of Alfred. (Library of Congress)

“…In obedience to your request I send you the enclosed from my Mother in relation to Alfred.  He has acted so improperly that he deserves no quarters…

                                                              Yours truly

                                                                John Croghan

P.S.  Dear General,

By your letter to John I find Alfred is unwilling to return to Ken; I, therefore, have no objection as he evinces so little gratitude, and as his conduct has been so improper to dispose of him.

                                                                    Affectionately yours,

                                                                    Lucy Croghan ”

(John Croghan to Thomas S. Jessup, October 31, 1834 – Library of Congress)  

While I continue to search, we currently have none of the letters or any other records describing what Alfred did that led Lucy Croghan to instruct her son-in-law to “dispose of him.”  We also lack Alfred’s version of the events. The earliest letter referencing him hints at a sarcastic wit, but we currently have no way of knowing what it was that the Croghans found so “improper.”

However, this last letter gives us a prime example of a slave owner, in this case, Lucy Croghan, wielding the threat of selling an enslaved person in an attempt to force him to be grateful and follow her orders.  We can deduce that the Croghans and Jesups felt Alfred should show gratitude for the opportunity to return to Kentucky and possibly be punished in some way once he was there and that they weren’t pleased when he chose not to return to Locust Grove.

Alfred isn’t mentioned in any of the Croghan family letters that we have past this point in time.  While Alfred may have changed his mind about coming back to Kentucky after learning of Lucy Croghan’s willingness to sell him as punishment for his actions, the lack of him being mentioned further hints at the possibility that he was indeed sold.  

While this is all I have to share of Alfred’s story for now, research into his life is ongoing.  I am currently continuing to search for mentions of him in correspondence from and about the Croghans as well as working with the Library of Congress to research Thomas Sidney Jesup’s financial records in an effort to learn if he was indeed sold by General Jesup. If I do uncover anything new, I will be sure to share an update in another post.

 

The Responsibility of Someone Else’s Story

When trying to decide on what to share first, I kept going back to something I posted on my personal Facebook page a few months ago.  In the spirit of not filling my friend’s feeds with a great wall of text, I tried to pare my thoughts down as much as possible and it was still a lot for a medium that isn’t necessarily set up for sharing thoughts that are more appropriate for a blog.  As more and more of my research projects have led to a desire to share what I have found along with my thoughts on the process of unearthing facts from the past and how they translate to life today, I have finally decided to give them a more proper home here.  And since this was the post that got the ball rolling, I feel it is only appropriate to expand upon and share that original Facebook post here.

While I plan to post on a wide array of subjects, this particular project, researching the enslaved people that belonged to Croghan family of Historic Locust Grove, may be the most important research I have ever done and as such will appear quite a bit here.  I am very proud to be a volunteer at a site where bringing these stories to the forefront is a priority.

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Today, I begin to organize and expand on the research on the enslaved people of Locust Grove that I have have been doing off and on for the past two years. I find myself in a different mindset than I usually am when I tackle research. Normally, I’m energized and very focused when I settle into a research project. There’s a sense of satisfaction when I turn up something new and expand on someone’s story. I get very excited when I discover something that allows us to relate to and empathize with someone from the past. I still feel those things, but this time, there are other feelings, too.

Stone from the remains of a slave cabin at Historic Locust Grove.

I feel a greater need to turn over every stone and pebble, to find the tiniest of facts. There are so few that no matter how small, they are all significant. I find my heart heavier at times as I try to grapple with understanding lives lived that I can never fully comprehend because their experiences were so different from mine. There’s a desire to fill in the gaps and give agency and voice to these people who had so little of it in their lifetimes and who were often silenced or ignored by history. There’s anger at how the details of their lives were recorded by others and frustration on the scarcity of information available. And there’s hope, hope that I can somehow do justice to their memories, to their struggles and triumphs, and to the lives they lived.

There’s also a weight to the process.  It weighs on me.  How do I properly share someone else’s story?  Can I do justice to them? There’s concern if my self taught research skills are enough to fully convey someone’s existence that was so very different from my own.  In the end, I always circle back to the idea that something done in the spirit of love and service to another is worthwhile in spite of the fact that I am still learning the best ways to research and share.  It also drives me to keep learning how to convey these stories in a better way.

Remains of a tree growing on the foundation of a slave cabin at Historic Locust Grove.

And there’s also a beautiful solemnity to the process. This past spring, I photographed the ruins of the foundation of the slave cabin in the woods at Historic Locust Grove so they have a visual record of it’s current condition. As I was trying to figure out which pictures I needed to take, I also found myself reflecting on who might have lived there. Who from my list of names made this their home? Was this Charlotte’s house, or maybe this is where Criss lived? Or could this be the abode of Hannah, Isaac, Alfred, or someone whose name was never recorded? Who cooked meals here, raised their children, rested after a long day’s labor? We don’t know and it’s possible we never will.

But we do know this: There’s no slave cemetery at Locust Grove. We have some theories and guesses about the final resting places of these people, but ultimately, we just don’t know for sure. That, of course, is it’s own kind of indignity when you look at the family graveyard so carefully preserved. Was the “child of Beaty”, who died from bilious fever in the fall of 1832, buried in an unmarked grave outside the boundary of the family cemetery as was often the case, or was this unnamed child laid to rest somewhere else on the property?  It’s a mystery that may never be solved.

But I do know this: enslaved people lived their lives and worked to carve out their own space on the site of that cabin foundation. They existed in that space and the simple act of naming their names, of standing where they stood and remembering them is a spiritual act of remembrance.

Remains of the foundation of a slave cabin at Historic Locust Grove.

As I moved around the space, trying to find the angles to properly record the building’s remains, I couldn’t help but feel the presence of those who lived there over 200 years ago.  Standing by myself, among the scattered stones in the quiet woods, I was struck that it was a very sacred space.  And so I left my own stone, my own token of remembrance, just like I do when I visit a grave. There may not be a slave cemetery, but this space was more their’s than most on the property and it just felt right to honor their passing there, where they had lived.

How I felt as I recorded the site has become an overriding reminder of why I do this and it does add to the weight of it all. How do I do right by these people who were marginalized during their lifetimes and forgotten after their deaths? Ultimately, I know I can never fully give them the justice they deserve and that the best I can do is to gather what we have and hopefully find a few new details to fill in the narratives of their lives. And so I organize, and search, and dig, and hope I do well by them.  I share their names and their stories and honor their memories in doing so.