by Kit Pearson
Leaving Mrs. Bibb’s school was the reason I was so sad when we moved from Sandwich to Charlotteville. But since Father had purchased a bigger farm here and was intent on growing tobacco, I had no choice. He said that in Charlotteville there would be lots of opportunities.
But the opposite was true, as you know from some of my earlier letters. The people here feel that Black people are too ambitious. Some of our Black neighbours’ farmhouses were even burnt — arson was the cause. It seemed that everyone knew who the arsonist was but no one would speak. And the looks we receive when we go into town, the whispers and sneers.
The teacher here in Charlotteville mocked my speech. He said I should speak like the Negro that I was and not to speak white. It hurt me more than words could say. So I only spoke when I had to. Now that I think of it, my teacher was a bully just like my classmates.
My parents knew of my sufferings, I am sure, but when they asked me about school I told them everything was fine. And I held back on writing to you about some of my problems too, until recently.
I am still unable to go to school. But my time is taken up with work on the farm. It is almost the end of winter and there is a lot to be done to prepare for the planting season.
I enjoy taking out the horses for exercise. Frederick is my favourite, as you know. One of the things I like best is to ride him down to Port Dover and trot along the beach there. I look over the expanse of the lake, beyond the horizon, and know that on the other side is the land of my birth and yours too, the United States. I think of you on the other side, in Virginia.
I think that my parents came to Canada West to find freedom, which in many respects has been denied. Did they make the right decision to come here?
I love Lake Erie. I love coming and sitting by the water and listening to its murmurings. It calms me and makes me think that better will come. Frederick usually comes and stands beside me, as if he understands what I am going through. I think he does. Animals sometimes are more sensitive than people.
In some of my free moments, I teach Ramona and Charles their letters and have begun teaching them to read. I also do simple sums with them. But my own learning is suffering. I have read and re-read the books we have at home. I am now in the process of reading the Bible from cover to cover and have now arrived at the end of Exodus.
At this moment in the province, a great debate rages on about whether or not Black scholars should be allowed to attend the common schools. All parents must pay the school tax, and the coloured parents pay their tax but find they are blocked in sending their children to school. The white people have said that Mr. Ryerson has established schools for the Black scholars and they must go to those schools. It is true that in some towns and villages there are those schools, but not in most. And yet I am expected to attend that one. When Mr. Ryerson came up with that idea it was because so many Black scholars were being turned away that their parents asked him to intervene. But he did not mean that these scholars would be barred from attending a local school if there was one in the district where they lived.
When the whites realize that their argument is wrong, they resort to other means, like declaring the common schools to be private schools, or changing the boundaries of the school districts to exclude farms owned by Black people. Father explained that this is called gerrymandering and that it is the worst way to deny our people their rights.
As for me, I feel the worst kind of betrayal. I have lived most of my life in this country; I have as much right as anyone else to education and respect. But what I feel most of all is sadness. A deep sadness that rises within me when I wake up and that goes to bed with me when I sleep.
I close with abiding respect.
Your cousin Solomon
P.S. Julius, I feel at ease in telling you about my problems. There is not another boy living close by that I could confide in. Over the years we have written to each other and you have become my best friend even though you live far away. I hope you don’t find my letter too complaining. I do not want to unburden myself to my parents. They have enough problems of their own.
15 May 1853
Dear Julius,
Thank you for your letter of 30 April. So the die is cast and your entire family is moving to Liberia! I regret to hear that that Black children in Virginia face the same problem as our situation with the common school here, and so your father has come to the conclusion that Blacks would not find freedom anywhere in North America and he has decided to remove your family to Liberia.
After your mention of that country in an earlier letter, I have been reading about the Liberian migrations in The Voice of the Fugitive, our own newspaper here in the province. It is published by Mr. Henry Bibb, husband of my teacher Mrs. Mary Bibb, and himself a fugitive from American slavery. Many are opposed to the movement to Liberia, while others think it is the only hope for our race. They think it makes sense to go to a place where we are wanted and where we can contribute with our skills and talents.
I must confess though that I do not want you to go. You are our only family on this continent. How I would miss you! But my reasons are selfish. I wish only for your good and that of your family. But what will happen to your college studies? The last we heard, you were planning to attend the Colored College of Washington D.C. in August.
There is some good news on my front. My mother found a school for me. Here is what happened. Mother and the parents of the other scholars who were expelled from our school approached our pastor, the Reverend Sorrick, to tutor us. He’s the Reverend of the local British Methodist Episcopal church. After considering the request, Reverend Sorrick converted his parlour into a classroom, and every Tuesday and Thursday evening I ride to our new school. My parents pay him a fee for his efforts. This gives me a welcome chance for an outing on Frederick too.
I study Penmanship, Mathematics, Grammar, Bible Studies, Reading and Ancient History. Reverend Sorrick also introduced us to a subject called Rhetoric, and rudimentary Greek and Latin. The Reverend has the largest collection of books I have ever seen. At my former school our teacher had a few books which he kept locked in a cabinet. There is a library of sorts in Simcoe, but you have to pay to use it and it is only opened to the whites.
The Reverend has books on every topic under the sun. One afternoon I arrived early before our class started and I took the time to look through some of the shelves. The Reverend tells me he orders his books from booksellers in Montreal and Boston. Needless to say, I am more than impressed with his library. I wish one day to have as many books as he does. (My father says that the Reverend is not only one of the most accomplished Black men in Canada, but one of the most educated persons in the entire country.) I do not know how long our little academy will last, because I was told that the Reverend is thinking of taking up a post in Bermuda where the BME church has also established itself.
Reverend Sorrick attended Oberlin College. I dream of going there one day. As you may know, it is the only school in America that accepts white and Black scholars, both male and female.
We greatly admire Reverend Sorrick. He is so well-spoken, and has a deep and sonorous voice. I see in him what I can become later in life. (He expresses a wish that it would be good for me to go into the ministry. My father however wants me to become a doctor.)
I must go now to make some bee boxes; Mother is determined to become a beekeeper. I will write again tomorrow.
16 May 1853
Dear Julius,
Mother called to me to put out my light last night before my letter was finished, so I’ll continue now.
Studying with the Reverend has brought me a new joy. I am much happier than I was. I love to discover new things, new ideas, new words, and new ways of thinking. I love reading stories like Homer’s Odyssey (in translation of course). I would be the happiest person alive if I could spend my time studying and learning. Maybe the Reverend knows me more than I know myself. I now see that Oberlin College could be a possibility. I seem to have a new energy.
&nbs
p; There is one more thing I want to put in this letter before I send it. The school trustees of Charlotteville are determined that I not set foot in the common school again. They have changed the boundaries of the school district by running a line through it that excludes our house from that particular district. They then sent a letter to my father saying that our 80 acres is excluded from the limits. Father says he is one of the largest taxpayers in this county, and has given 12 free days of labour to the county (6 more days than the required number) and that he is entitled to his rights.
I must say my goodbye to you. It is late and I hear Mother’s footsteps. I know she is coming to tell me to turn off the lamplight again. God’s blessings on you and your family.
Your cousin and humble servant,
Solomon
30 May 1853
Dear Julius,
Ramona and Charles are becoming excellent readers. Both read with ease the Irish Reader, Book One and are now tackling Book Two. I have also taught them to cipher. Father and I have commenced planting the new tobacco, and next week we will be raising a new barn with the help of our friends and neighbours.
There is even better news! And that is why I write to you even before I get a response from you to my previous letter. My father did it — he sued the school trustees. In fact, he sued the entire school board. And the matter is to be heard in court soon. Remember I told you that he was always writing letters? Well, he was writing to Mr. Egerton Ryerson, the superintendent for education for all of Canada West. He told Mr. Ryerson what had happened to me and asked for advice on how to proceed. The advice the superintendent gave Father was for him to sue the trustees!
The lawyer that Father retained is Mr. George Hanson, who recently opened a practice in Simcoe. He has charged the trustees with wrongful dismissal, racial prejudice, gerrymandering the boundaries of the school district, and denial of education for me.
The whole thing has caused a stir. Whenever my father and I go into town to buy supplies or sell our produce, people stop as we approach in our wagon, point at us and murmur among themselves. Sometimes, they become abusive. When Father and I went to Mr. Copperfield, the town’s agent for tobacco, he refused to buy our cured tobacco from last year, saying that we had grown too big for our breeches, and that we should be grateful to be living in Canada, and ought to behave ourselves instead of making trouble and suing the school board. My father bore the abuse silently, and the following day took the tobacco to Hamilton to sell it to an agent there.
Black folks from all over the district have been coming to our farm to speak to my parents. Some of them have also had their children chased from the common school. The parents see my father as a kind of hero for challenging the school board. Sometimes they bring gifts of food and produce to us. A few give money to help with the court case. Everywhere the same story is repeated — Black children turned out of school and denied an education — in Amherstburg, Windsor, Hamilton, Brantford, Ancaster. All over the province.
The Reverend Sorrick has become a regular visitor to our house. He comes to pray with us and offer spiritual guidance. As we wait for the court date I am excited, but fearful at the same time. What will the outcome be?
I will write soon. Please send me your news, especially about the move to Liberia, and give my best regards to your family.
Your cousin,
Solomon Washington
18 July 1853
Dear Julius,
We went to court this morning. We lost. The judge said that the trustees are fully within their rights to allow who they want to in the schools, and that the African pupils must attend the coloured school. When our lawyer Mr. Hanson told the judge that the coloured school has been closed for over a year for want of a teacher and also because not enough children live in that section, the judge said he did not care. He said he is following the books, and that the Provincial School Act states that wherever there was a coloured school, it is that school the coloured children must attend.
There was booing in the court after he rendered judgement. It was the Black citizens, of course. I was never more dejected in my life after hearing such a decision. Immediately Mr. Hanson walked over to my father and said he would appeal the decision to the Court of King’s Bench in Toronto. He said we will never get justice here because one of the school trustees is related to the judge.
I will let you know how this is all progressing (or not). I am waiting to hear more of your plans to move.
Your cousin,
Solomon
17 August 1854
Dear Julius,
It is nearly a year since my last letter to you. The last one I received from you was dated 8 November 1853. We rejoiced that you all had arrived in Liberia safely, found a place to live, and that you are in college and your two brothers in an academy. Liberia and its capital Monrovia sound too good to be true. I read your letter over and over. I did reply and, not hearing from you for months, I assumed you did not receive my letter.
We were all worried, not hearing from you or your family. I wrote you several letters after that but did not hear a word back. So imagine my great surprise and joy when I received a letter from you in May asking me why I had not written! My letters must have been lost at sea, or perhaps were not sent on to you after your family left for Liberia. Your letter arrived at the right moment, because a great event recently took place in my life. I will tell you of it shortly. I am hoping you will get this letter.
There is so much news to report. I am now nearly a year older, of course, and have grown to over five feet and nine inches. People think I am older than my fifteen years. I continued with Reverend Sorrick until January of this year, when he closed the academy for two main reasons. We had a very cold winter with lots of snow; this made travelling difficult at times. He was also preparing to move to Bermuda. Secondly, my labour was needed at home full time — one reason being my mother was expecting a new baby and had not been well. I must report, dear Julius, that you are now the proud cousin of a new baby girl. Mother has named her Patience Liberty. I leave you to work out the meaning of her name.
The twins have gotten big. They are now excellent readers for children of seven years old and are progressing through Book Three of the Irish series. I believe they are little prodigies but I am partial toward them, being their older brother and teacher.
You must be wondering about the outcome of the lawsuit against the trustees. I will no longer hold you in suspense. Mr. Hanson appealed the case to the highest court in the land, the Court of King’s Bench. Mr. Hanson believed that was the only place where we had a chance of getting some justice.
My father and I travelled to Toronto for the trial, which was held on 17 June. What a marvellous place it is. The buildings are splendid and tall. Never in my life have I seen so many carriages and wagons moving along the streets. If you are not careful you will be run over by these vehicles. (There is a cab company there that was founded by a Black man named Thornton Blackburn. He is a refugee from Kentucky slavery. He has become a wealthy man from his cab business.) In Toronto, the people all wear fine clothing. We stayed at a lodging house run by two of my father’s friends from Virginia.
Our case was called up at the Court of King’s Bench, and the highest judge in the land — the chief justice, John Beverley Robinson — presided. My father told me that Mr. Robinson’s father was a Virginian Loyalist and slaveowner. I did not have much trust in this Judge Robinson. It is known that last year he ruled against a Black man named Dennis Hill. Mr. Hill, like my father, had sued the trustees of his town for refusing his son entry to the local school. When it went to court, Judge Robinson said that the trustees were fully within the law to exclude Mr. Hill’s son. I wondered if we could expect justice from such a judge.
While we waited inside for the judge to arrive, a tall and striking-looking Black man approached our group. Mr. Hanson quickly grabbed his hand and gave him a powerful handshake. He introduced the man to us, a Mr. Robert Sutherland, a lawyer! Mr. Suther
land is the first Black lawyer to be trained in Canada. He is from the island of Jamaica and attended Queen’s College in this province. He and Mr. Hanson were classmates at Queen’s, and Mr. Hanson said Mr. Sutherland won fourteen academic prizes, including Latin and Mathematics, during their graduating year. Mr. Sutherland talked with Mr. Hanson and my father about what sounded like some obscure points of our case. Mr. Hanson nodded his head throughout the conversation. During the whole time, I was in awe of Mr. Sutherland. A coloured lawyer and one who knows the law like the back of his hand!
The judged arrived looking very much the aristocrat he was rumoured to be. I could not forget his slaveholding background. I hoped he had a bone of fairness in him. The lawyer for the trustees presented their case, while Philip Glasgow — you will remember that he is the head trustee, the one who expelled me — stood glowering at me and my father. Mr. Hanson presented our case. The judge listened and took notes. Then he called a recess. I did not have much hope, but Mr. Hanson seemed to think that we would get some justice.
After what seemed like a long time, Mr. Robinson returned and gave his decision. He ruled in our favour! Here is what he said: “There are no separate schools for Blacks in Charlotteville. The effects of attempts to run a school-district line that would exclude the plaintiff’s (my father’s) land were to deprive him of schooling entirely. Simply because there was no other school, the plaintiff must be given access to the common schools.”
After a year of fighting the school trustees of Charlotteville, Julius, we finally gained justice. Mr. Glasgow stormed out of the court upon hearing Judge Robinson’s verdict. Mr. Hanson came and shook my hands vigorously. I was beyond myself with joy, and hugged my father.
