Sankofa

"I give and bequeath unto my son Edward Outlaw one hundred and three acres of land with all the appurtenances thereunto belonging to him and his heirs forever-and one Negro boy called Cophee and one four gallon porridge pot."

This is an excerpt from the will of my great x 10 grandfather, Edward Outlaw. He died in 1714. I've written about him briefly here before, as well as about his brother John Outlaw who I recently discovered was a pirate.

Yes, a pirate.

But I'll write in more detail about that at a later date.

Take a look at that passage again. The positioning of the "Negro boy called Cophee" between a measly parcel of land and a four gallon piece of crockery, like a thing. But that's what a slave was during this time, a chattel, or a tool. He or she was just a tool that was alive, a commodified living body that could be shipped in a boat alongside barrels of grain or bags of sugar and sold at auction like a car or a box of old vinyl records.

And again:

"I give and bequeath unto my son Ralph Outlaw one hundred and two acres of land beginning at a marked persimmon at the upper end of my orchard and so running along the old field to two persimmon trees more and from the last persimmons to run a line to make up the complement-and one Negro girl called Bess to him and his heirs forever."

And again:

"I give and bequeath unto my daughter Elizabeth King one Negro woman called Diana and her increase forever."

And his heirs forever. And her increase forever. History really hits you hard when what you study as a historian and what is tied to your identity, especially in a visceral, physical way, come together. The blood of Edward Outlaw flows in my veins, in a small sense. I'm one of his heirs, ten generations down the line.

I recently read historian Jennifer Morgan's "Laboring Bodies," which deals with the appropriation of the "increase" of the bodies of enslaved women. One of her arguments is that the language of referring to the offspring of enslaved women changed throughout the 17th century. The use of the term "child," or even of "pickaninnies," was discarded for "increase," a term which linguistically severed the mothers claim to her children by commodifying and dehumanizing them. It was fascinating to see the use of such terminology in the will of one of my ancestors.

I was discussing history with a colleague last night and how we can make it more engaging for students. When I read history I imagine it all like a novel; I can see the people that are described on the pages, even though there may be no actual physical description. I see the enslaved Gambian herdsman in the 17th century Carolina backcountry leaning on a cane he uses to guide his herd through canebrakes, and a sweaty, red-faced English settler in breeches and rolled up sleeves, a rude straw hat on his head, hacking his way through bottom land to bring the cattle to fresh water on a blazing Carolina day. The mosquitoes are in abundance and miasmas fill the air. Many don't know that very early colonial South Carolina was originally largely based around the raising of cattle, with many of the first "cowboys" being slaves. But I'm rambling.

I can imagine Cophee and Diana and Bess from what little I can gather from this will. First, Cophee was an Akan, and was from, or his parents were from what is today modern Ghana or Ivory Coast. This is indicated by his name, Cophee, or Kofi, which is an Akan day name for a boy who is born on Friday. Cophee was born on some Friday (in Akan, Afi) in the early 18th century. He may have made the voyage over from Africa, but it is also likely that he was born in Carolina or Virginia and knew only the country that his ancestors would be enslaved in for generations. Either way, if his name is any indication, Cophee's parents still very much held fast to the Akan culture. Diana may have been Cophee's mother and Bess may have been his sister. This is only speculation, though; Cophee could have been purchased separately and had no blood ties to Diana or Bess. Judging by later slave marriage and parenting patterns, Cophee's father may have lived on another farm or plantation and traveled on certain days of the week to see his wife and child. His parents may have told him stories from Akan culture such as the Anansi trickster tales that I also read when I was a child. Tricksters like Anansi and later Br'er Rabbit allowed slaves to clandestinely thumb their noses at the authority of their masters.

There is no typical experience for a child slave. Cophee could have been put to work in tasks which freed older slaves to engage in more pressing tasks. He may have cut wood, hauled water, or tended animals. He most likely would have been employed in the house. Judging by the modest slave holdings of Edward Outlaw - one woman, one girl, and one boy - he was not engaged in large-scale agriculture. His slaves would have been employed in growing some crops, but they would have also been engaged in cooking and other household chores. Cophee may have worked in Edward's orchard picking apples; he may have helped to turn them into cider. The Carolinas and Virginia were notorious for being insalubrious places, South Carolina in particular, and the only thing that was safe to drink was either an alcoholic drink or water mixed with other alcohols. Cophee, Diana, and Bess may have gone down to the persimmon trees that dotted the Outlaw plantation to collect the fruit, as well, and from this made persimmon beer (which I long to make, btw).

Children were not spared from the brutal aspects of slavery. Corporal punishment, which was widespread in the disciplining of white children, could even more harsh for slave children. I've read later accounts of slave children being killed by angry owners over trifles. Whippings were typically done with switches, paddles, or whatever was on hand. I've read of wooden roof shingles being used to whip slave children. Perhaps worse was the trauma of witnessing one's mother or father severely whipped for some infraction. Slave testimonies are replete with reminiscences of parents being brutalized while the powerless child looked on. Historians have argued that the violence of whippings was then displaced by slave parents onto their children, which then became a recurring cycle of violence in each generation. I don't agree with this notion, but it is compelling nonetheless.

As the will indicates, after Edward's wife died, the three were to be willed to his children. Elizabeth lived another 13 years after Edward; by this time Cophee would have been an adult, or very near to adulthood, assuming he reached adulthood. Cophee was willed to Edward Jr., who by this time had removed to Chowan County, North Carolina, which is in the northeastern corner of the state. When the land in Virginia fell into Edward's possession he deeded it to his brother-in-law Robert King. This may have been due to the difficulty of holding land in two colonies. This may (again, that word) mean that Cophee remained in Virginia with Diana, who was willed to Elizabeth King, Edward Sr.'s daughter and now wife of Robert. It is more likely that Cophee would have gone to live with Edward Jr. in North Carolina. This is where the trail ends. Anything after this point is complete speculation, as there isn't even a shred of evidence.