Where all eyes are turned: Letters from Washington in The Anglo-African, 1863–1864
When "Bob Logic" took up the mantle of Washington correspondent for New York's weekly Anglo-African in June 1863, he began his first letter with an apology of sorts. The newspaper's established correspondent, "Box," had been quiet for some time, and in the nation's capital, "where all eyes are turned," "matters of very great importance" would "certainly interest the great multitude" of the Anglo-African's readers.(1)
Over the next three months, the Anglo-African published seven Washington letters attributed to "Bob Logic." The letters touch on a wealth of subjects, from the formation of local African American regiments, to the elite's rich associational life; from the struggle over the legality of the Fugitive Slave Law in the District, to the achievements of medical staff at Camp Barker; from public processions that saw participants claim an equal right to the streets, to military movements in the region. When Bob Logic's correspondence ceased, the Anglo-African continued to publish letters from Washington and its environs. Indeed, in 1863, the city and its people rose to new prominence in the newspaper's columns. In addition to letters from residents such as Solomon G. Brown, the Anglo-African carried two series of letters from visiting New Yorkers William J. Wilson ("Ethiop") and Anglo-African editor Robert Hamilton. By autumn 1863, the newspaper had started to present Washington letters from a corps of correspondents as "Our Washington Correspondence," distinct from the letters from towns and cities that made up "Our Domestic Correspondence."(2) The heading singled out Washington and recognized its status in the same way that the newspaper's long-established "Philadelphia Department" affirmed the importance of that city.
The wartime capital was both "the heart of the Union's war effort" and "a crucible of equality."(3) As Kate Masur explains, thousands of fugitives from slavery arrived in Washington to start new lives long before the war for the Union became a war for emancipation. According to Masur, "Members of the long-standing black elite mobilized to aid and uplift the destitute and to shape the public debate, which in 1862 was centrally concerned with whether to emigrate out of the United States rather than risk an uncertain future at home."(4) Masur continues, "By 1863, however, the federal government's turn toward a policy of emancipation provided an impetus for bolder demands at home. . . . African Americans combated inequality not only by demanding rights but also by insisting on equal privileges and equal status in local life."(5) For Robert Hamilton's readers and contributors, events in and around the capital had national significance and warranted close attention. By contributing correspondence to the Anglo-African, Washington's residents shared news, and, furthermore, they established their standing as part of a network of towns and cities whose representatives communicated regularly with Hamilton's newspaper and each other.
This collection of twenty-four letters is drawn from the pool of Washington correspondence published in the Anglo-African throughout the latter half of 1863 and early 1864. The period encompasses two neglected series of letters written by New Yorkers on their first visits to Washington, as well as more regular city correspondence published during particularly eventful and well-documented months. Together, the letters offer a valuable insight into the "crucible of equality" as it was experienced, interpreted, and related by Washington residents and two notable visitors from New York, William J. Wilson ("Ethiop") and editor Robert Hamilton. The letters were identified in the Anglo-African as "Washington correspondence" by way of item or section headings, datelines, and/or attribution.
The selection presented here allows for the comparison of perspectives and emphases, and it provides chronological continuity over a short but transformative period in the struggle over equality. As the page images for the complete issues show, the newspaper carried many other items which contributed to the city's representation within the Anglo-African's columns—lists of deaths in "Contraband Camp Hospital Washington" and poems with Washington datelines among them.(6) Multiple letters explicitly reference content elsewhere in the same issue. Readers may use the images of the complete issues to explore the fully-edited "Washington correspondence" in its print and social contexts.
The Anglo-African and Its Contributors(7)
Publisher and activist Thomas Hamilton (1823-1865) launched the Weekly Anglo-African in New York in July 1859. The newspaper provided black communities across the North, East, and West with a vital forum for public dialog and debate. When financial difficulties threatened to sink the Weekly Anglo-African in March 1861, Hamilton sold the paper to James Redpath. Abolitionist journalist and author Redpath had accepted the Haitian government's invitation to encourage African American emigration as director of the Haytian Emigration Bureau in the summer of 1860. The Anglo-African became part of his "propaganda offensive," and in May 1861, he restyled it as The Pine and Palm.(8) James McCune Smith joined forces with Thomas's elder brother Robert (1819–1870) to revive the Anglo-African on its original principles(9). In relaunching the Anglo-African, Hamilton wrote, "In compliance with the urgent solicitations of many of the former patrons of the late Weekly Anglo-African, . . . we commence to-day the publication of a weekly journal which shall be devoted specially to the best interests of the colored people in this and other countries. . . . We alone are able to tell our story. Under the circumstances it is not necessary for us to specify our objects, but would only state that the free discussion of every subject of interest to our people will form one of the most prominent features of the paper."(10)
Robert and Thomas Hamilton kept the title afloat throughout the war, in spite of the rising cost of paper and crises such as the Draft Riots of July 1863. In mid-September 1863, Robert Hamilton set out on a tour of the occupied South, during which he forged new links with African American communities there and promoted the interests of his paper. African Methodist Episcopal minister James Lynch testified to the Anglo-African's national reach at the end of the Civil War: "We have felt [its influence] on the banks of the Mississippi, during our ministry at Galena, Illinois, in Maryland, and the District of Columbia, on the sea islands of South Carolina, in the cities of Charleston and Savannah, and even in the interior of Georgia."(11) The newspaper closed in December 1865 after Thomas Hamilton died and Robert Hamilton fell ill. The Anglo-African is now recognized as one of the most important African American newspapers of the Civil War era. Given the importance of this paper and the relative lack of information about many of its contributors, we offer a brief introduction to each of the Washington correspondents whose letters appear on Civil War Washington.
The identity of the correspondent who wrote under the pen name "Bob Logic" is not currently known. Logic was a member of Washington's prestigious 15th Street Presbyterian Church and a strong supporter of the formation of African American regiments in the District.(12) As he was too old for the draft, he must have been more than 45 years old in July 1863.(13) He also had long-standing ties in Cleveland, Ohio, where he returned briefly in October "to attend the elections in this State, and to see what magnitude Copperheadism had assumed on the Reserve."(14)
The pseudonym "Bob Logic" appeared for the last time in the Anglo-African of October 31, 1863. In the next newspaper's issue, three leading Washington residents—William Slade, Carter A. Stewart, and Solomon G. Brown—responded to the controversial letters of one "Tom Peeper" by pledging to send city news under their own names.(15) Given that White House steward William Slade (born in about 1815) had Ohio connections and was a member of the 15th Street Presbyterian Church, it is tempting to speculate that he may have written as "Bob Logic." In the months following the announcement from the Washington "corps," the Anglo-African published letters signed "S.G.B.," "C.A.S." and "S." (which could stand for "Slade" or "Stewart," among other possibilities). Slade was prostrated by illness in late November and early December 1863—he may have been unable to contribute as he had planned. The Anglo-African also reverted to publishing unsigned Washington correspondence in December. At present, evidence for a link between William Slade and Bob Logic is circumstantial.
William J. Wilson (1820–?) submitted letters to the Anglo-African under the pen name "Ethiop." Wilson was a teacher and antebellum journalist, best known for his antebellum contributions to Frederick Douglass' Paper, the Weekly Anglo-African, and the Anglo-African Magazine. Carla L. Peterson has argued that "In naming himself Ethiop, [Wilson] drew attention to his undiluted black blood and proudly identified himself with Africa."(16) Wilson taught in Brooklyn and was one of the community leaders who established the New York Society for the Promotion of Education Among Colored Children in 1847. John W. Blassingame notes that Wilson also aided fugitive slaves as a member of the "Committee of Thirteen."(17)
In the summer of 1863, Wilson traveled south to Washington, DC. He and James McCune Smith (1813-1865) often sparred in the pages of Frederick Douglass' Paper, and his Washington correspondence reveals their close friendship. McCune Smith, a staunch supporter of the Anglo-African, forwarded a letter that "Ethiop" had written "for my 'own-self'" to the editor.(18) Four more letters followed. They record Wilson's first impressions of the capital and see him contrast "the North" with "the South." "Your first look out upon the streets of Washington impresses you with the feeling of never returning to the North, except to settle your affairs," his second letter began.(19) A long-standing abolitionist, he celebrated freedom and the signs of equality he encountered in the city, and relished contrasting the past with the present. He was also impressed by employment opportunities in Washington, including employment in government offices.
Wilson's letters do not state his reasons for traveling to Washington, but they suggest a deep interest in conditions of the freedpeople, as well as a concern with personal "business."(20) Wilson decided to leave his position as principal of Brooklyn's Colored Public School No. 1 and moved with his wife Mary and daughter to Washington. Here, they established a school for freedpeople under the auspices of the American Missionary Association. The family remained in Washington after the war; Wilson worked as a cashier in the Washington branch of the Freedmen's Savings Bank.
In November 1863, William Slade, Carter A. Stewart, and Solomon G. Brown pledged to supply readers of the Anglo-African with "a full account of all public affairs" in Washington.(21) Their formal declaration had been prompted by the "trash" of an unknown city correspondent who signed himself "Tom Peeper."(22) "In assuming the position of correspondents," they wrote, "we deem it proper to give to the public our proper names, that we may individually assume the responsibility of all articles furnished under our department, furnished by any of our corps."
Solomon G. Brown (1829-1906) worked for the Smithsonian Institute in his native Washington for more than fifty years. He performed a range of duties and developed his own knowledge of natural history and science, which he shared with his community in the form of lectures from 1855 onward. Brown received no formal education, but his intellectual achievements led contemporaries to refer to him as "Professor." After hearing Brown on the "Science of Nature's Insects," the Christian Recorder's Washington correspondent hailed him as "the embodiment of natural genius."(23) William J. Simmons attests to Brown's activism and energy in Men of Mark: Eminent, Progressive, and Rising (1887): he served as a trustee for Wilberforce University and the 15th Street Presbyterian church; as superintendent of the North Washington Mission Sunday school; and as grand secretary of the District Grand Lodge of Masons.(24) During the war era, he was an "active member of the Freedmen's Relief association" and president of the National Union League.(25) He also sent contributions to both Hamilton's Anglo-African and the Christian Recorder, an important weekly newspaper published in Philadelphia by the A. M. E. Church. In 1871, he was elected to the legislature for the District of Columbia.
In the context of the Washington "corps" of correspondents, "S." could stand for "Slade" or "Stewart," or for another correspondent altogether. Only one letter from Washington was published with this signature. In the Anglo-African of October 10 and November 21, 1863, Carter A. Stewart signed himself "C.A.S." Stewart, born in about 1827, established himself as a barber in Washington, DC, prior to the outbreak of the war. A prominent figure in postwar city politics, he was elected to the common council in 1868 and to the board of aldermen in 1869.(26)
William Slade (1815–?) and his wife Josephine moved to the District of Columbia at some point before 1843, when their eldest daughter was born. By 1860 the family included seven children (Rachel, Louisa, Josephine, William, Jesse, Andrew, and Catherine). Kate Masur suggests that Slade became "the lead servant" in the White House before the delegation of five black Washingtonians—Edward M. Thomas, John F. Cook, Cornelius C. Clark, John T. Costin, and Benjamin McCoy—met with Lincoln in August 1862 to debate his proposal for a black colony in Central America.(27) Slade presided over the Social, Civil, and Statistical Association, a city-based organization intended to "shepherd black Washington through the upheavals of the Civil War."(28) Many of the SCSA's members were connected with the 15th Street Presbyterian Church, where Slade was an elder. Both Slade and his wife assisted the work of the Contraband Relief Association, over which family friend Elizabeth Keckley presided.
Robert and Thomas Hamilton were sons of William G. Hamilton (1773–1836), one of the founders of Mother Zion and the New York African Society for Mutual Relief. Prior to the outbreak of the Civil War, they established themselves as members of New York's next generation of black activists.(29) Robert was a member of the "Committee of Thirteen," a local group formed by black abolitionists to protect African Americans from the seizures all but sanctioned by the Fugitive Slave Law and to counter the schemes of the American Colonization Society.(30) He took over as named editor of the Anglo-African in the summer of 1861, and ran the enterprise with his brother. A renowned singer, Robert often performed at community events; during his wartime tours, he sang and distributed broadsides. He was also a champion of African American enlistment; his newspaper had particularly close links with the Massachusetts Fifty-fourth Regiment, and soldier correspondence appeared in its columns throughout the war.
Robert Hamilton cultivated a truly national circulation for his newspaper during his wartime travels. In mid-September 1863, he embarked on a six-month tour of the occupied South. Leaving the newspaper in his brother Thomas's experienced hands, he explored the area around Washington, DC, as well as Virginia and the coastal region of North Carolina. He sent the Anglo-African vivid letters introducing Washington society and describing the activities of freedpeople, missionaries, and African American regiments. Throughout his tour, he sought new subscribers and promoted racial solidarity at meetings in churches and camps. His editorial correspondence contains local listings, as well as acknowledgements and advertisements; such information must have consolidated newly forged associations within the Washington community. Thomas Hamilton announced his brother's homecoming on March 5, 1864. Before the year was out, however, the Anglo-African editor had embarked on a new tour of the West and Southwest.
The "crucible" and "wonderful change"
Social and political transformations taking place within the "crucible" of the city provide the most immediate context for the letters in this collection. President Lincoln abolished slavery in the District when he signed the District of Columbia Emancipation Act on April 16, 1862. His Emancipation Proclamation of January 1, 1863 declared that "all persons held as slaves" in rebel states "are, and henceforward shall be free" and opened the way for African American enlistment. However, the District's fugitive slave commissioners continued to uphold the Fugitive Slave Law, clashing with abolitionists in the streets and courtrooms. As slavery's legal supports toppled, black residents recognized and seized "an opportunity to transform the city" in advance of changes in the law.(31) Racial tensions increased; white Washingtonians seemed increasingly inclined to perpetrate "outrages."(32) Bob Logic suggested the volatility of the situation in June 1863: "The District is free," he wrote, "and those oppressive laws, bolstered up by that hateful [Dred Scott] decision, have passed, or are passing away; and as they pass away, that hydra-headed monster, prejudice, opens his volcanic jaws and emits his hellish lava."(33) The Anglo-African's Washington correspondents celebrated "the new order of things" and "wonderful change," even as they drew battle-lines in an ongoing struggle for equality.(34)
The formation of the District's first black regiment was well under way by the time Bob Logic sent his first letter to the Anglo-African. Community leaders such as William Slade, Carter Stewart, Thomas Hinton, and Henry M. Turner championed enlistment, on the grounds that national military service would provide the basis for a collective claim to citizenship. For Bob Logic, enlistment was a means for African American men to secure the rights they lacked. In mid-July, he reported that the District's 1st Regiment was full and two companies of a second regiment mustered in. Using the Anglo-African as a platform, he urged his readers to "buckle on your armour, and with strong arms and brave hearts go into this war and fight for your rights."(35) Several letters from Washington illuminate the ways in which African American soldiers fought for their rights on and off the battlefield. Their demands for equal access to Washington's streetcars and respect on the streets "helped set an agenda for the future."(36)
William J. Wilson and Robert Hamilton set off from New York for an imagined "South" in 1863. Neither seems to have undertaken travel in or through a "slave" state prior to the trips narrated in these letters. Such journeys would, of course, have posed great risk to free-born African American travelers: the possibility of kidnapping and assault was real enough in a "free" state. Mid-way through the war, however, travel in the occupied South became newly possible and desirable for black intellectuals, missionaries, and commentators from northern states. "The great number of strangers now in Washington makes it very lively," an Anglo-African correspondent noted in January 1864, when "Several of our great men from North, East, and West have been with us."(37) Wilson and Hamilton's journeys were part of a larger movement. Scholarly work on nineteenth-century African American travel writing has tended to focus on book-length works of the antebellum and postbellum periods; newspaper correspondence from the war years has been largely neglected as a source of African American travel writing, yet accounts like those by Wilson and Hamilton reveal its value in this context.(38)
As literary men who used their pens and voices in the cause of abolition and equal rights, Wilson and Hamilton had heard and read much of southern slavery. Tim Youngs reminds us that "the way we imagine places is not simply a private, individual affair and our responses to them when we visit them are not independent but are mediated by the culturally constructed representations we have previously encountered" as well as our ideology, "gender, class, age, nationality, cultural background and education."(39) Ethiop acknowledged the gap between the "culturally constructed representations" and an unknown "reality" at the start of his first letter; "Dixie" was "a land known only to me in story and in song. . . . But what kind of a land, or what really its inhabitants, I positively had no just conception."(40) Later in the same letter, Wilson contrasts the limited knowledge available to the reader with the traveler's firsthand experience when he marvels at the way in which the railroad has collapsed the space between New York and Baltimore and brought slavery home to him. "At your distance, and merely reading," he wrote to James McCune Smith in New York, "it is possible to realize, to some extent, slavery; but to close eyes that have ever gazed on freedom, and in five hours thereafter, to open them upon slavery, is strange indeed."(41)
In Wilson's letters, "story" and "song" provide explicit points of reference; he interprets experiences in relation to "preconceptions" informed by his reading.(42) For example, Wilson's last letter compares the "simple stories" of patients at Camp Barker with abolitionist novels by Harriet Beecher Stowe and Edmund Kirke (James R. Gilmore): "He who will . . . gather up the simple stories of these once hard oppressed but now liberated people, and in all faithfulness print them, will produce the greatest book of the age—the book of America—a book beside which 'Dred,' and 'Among the Pines,' and 'Uncle Tom's Cabin,' will seldom be mentioned."(43) Hamilton hinted at a similar process of comparison in his letter from Alexandria: "we wanted to gaze upon its streets, and upon the slave-pens, of which we had read so much."(44)
Of course, "preconceptions" are not shaped by reading and listening alone. Visitors Hamilton and Wilson experienced and reported Washington through lenses constituted by their own histories and agendas. When Hamilton looked at the Capitol, his thoughts "went immediately out to the most distant parts of the country and flew down the vale of time," before they settled on his father: "we thanked God that our father had volunteered to breast the leaden storm in defence of this great country, of which this magnificent building is such a splendid type."(45) His sentence reaches a climax with the revelation of a family history of patriotic devotion that unites father and son in their love of "this great country." As the past influenced Hamilton's experience of the Capitol, so Wilson's first impressions of Washington may have been shaped by concerns about his family's future. "Here in the South," Wilson told James McCune Smith, "the blacks have everything all their own way."(46) As we try to reconcile this account of the city with wartime Washington as it was represented by residents such as Bob Logic, we might remember that Wilson traveled south weeks after a mob had ripped through the streets of his home city and targeted black New Yorkers and their property. During and after the New York Draft Riots, Wilson must have feared for his family, friends, pupils and livelihood. The traumatic experience provides one context for his vision of Washington as a place of security and prosperity, where one saw African Americans "everywhere" and found "responsible colored men, by scores, employed here . . . in all the departments of government."(47) The Draft Riots of mid-July also shook Robert Hamilton, scattering the Anglo-African's city-based readership. It is possible that the crisis prompted him to pursue a wider circulation with new urgency, at the earliest opportunity. The editor's first Washington letter suggests that an antislavery declaration from Maryland's unconditional unionists prompted him to undertake a visit to the capital, but, his "primary objective in going South" was to promote his paper. His business interests intersected with his desire to unite "the people" via print.(48)
If Hamilton envisaged the Anglo-African as an agent of print-based unification, one Washington letter reminds us of tensions between residents and northern visitors which trouble such a characterization. In late January, a correspondent took Massachusetts native Charles L. Remond to task for public remarks addressed to the city's black elite. Remond reportedly criticized members of his audience for their "prejudice one to another": "you need not expect the white man to be true to you unless you first learn to be true to your own people." Taking on the role of spokesperson, the correspondent challenged Remond's "slanderous falsehood" before outlining broader contrasts between "us" and "our Northern and Eastern brethren" (referred to elsewhere in the letter as "your people"). The writer's frustration is abundantly clear: "we are a sensitive people, who have been unjustly treated and criticized by persons who think when coming to Washington that they are coming South among a lot of slow ninny-heads."(49) Furthermore, these patronizing visitors came south with outdated concerns,"riding that old weather-beaten horse, antislavery." The correspondent recommended instead that these visitors use their talents to "improve" those who had "been under slavery." The clash underscores the complex interactions between local, regional and national identities that took place in the columns of the Anglo-African.
Propriety in print
The Anglo-African's Washington correspondence reveals struggles over collective and individual representation in public print. In the autumn of 1863, the newspaper sparked a controversy when it published Washington letters written by one "Tom Peeper." "Peeper" was an irreverent, critical correspondent—a self-styled reformer who spied out targets that ranged from the spirit of sectarianism to "old women flirting about on the ball-room floor."(50) Peeper antagonized the prestigious 15th Street Presbyterian Church by criticizing the congregation and affirming that its elders had stained the "character" of Washington by turning the Dumas Association "out of its halls."(51) By the time he shared rumors about the engagement of popular belle "Pet Kiger" in mid-October, a reaction was already setting in. Anglo-African contributors in and beyond Washington registered their distaste and, in the process, articulated what they considered to be proper to city correspondence as a genre.
Leading Washingtonian Carter A. Stewart was foremost in calling for Peeper to be dropped from the paper; Stewart issued a genteel warning to the editor when he reminded him that the Anglo-African "has some of its best friends" in the slandered 15th Street Presbyterian Church. According to Stewart, Peeper had no right to meddle with "the spiritual affairs of any religious body."(52) "Is such trash sent from this city to any of our first class newspapers in New York or Philadelphia?" Stewart asked. "I think not." Writing from Cleveland, Ohio, Bob Logic shrewdly pointed out that the letters were "condemned abroad, as well as at the home of the correspondent"—a conversation with Anglo-African contributor and agent Sara G. Stanley supported his view that the letters would "injure" the paper. Sattie A. Douglass of Chicago also challenged Peeper, on the grounds that "he must not extend his love of gossip so far as to publish the private affairs of others, as in the case of Miss Kager's engagement, and must endeavor to rid himself of a style of writing only worthy to appear in the columns of some obscene city paper."(53)
In order to take control of the situation, Stewart outlined a plan for a "corps" of Washington correspondents in the Anglo-African of October 10, 1863. His letter suggests that the Anglo-African editor had already selected its members, and left them to perfect arrangements as they saw fit.(54) The corps, comprised of William Slade, Solomon G. Brown, and Stewart, publicly assumed responsibility for gathering and sending news from the district in the issue of November 7, by which time "Peeper" had publicly stepped down in response to Stewart's plan. His barbed farewell appeared in the issue of October 24, with a warning that he would return to administer "one of those bitter pills" if the "corps" failed to keep their promises.(55) He anticipated "sweet honeycomb articles," which he implied would give neither offense nor substantial food for thought. The speed with which an elite group mobilized to make alternative arrangements for the representation of their city and people underscores their keen appreciation of the newspaper's power to shape opinion in and beyond Washington.
Methodology and Procedures
All letters have been manually transcribed by project staff from digital images of microfilm copies of original issues. Digital images were first prepared for a related publication in Scholarly Editing.(56) The brightness and contrast of the images were enhanced using Adobe Photoshop to increase the legibility of the text, much of which is difficult to read due to damage to the originals and irregular microfilming. These images were used for the purposes of transcription.
The letters have been encoded according to the P5 guidelines of the Text Encoding Initiative (TEI), and the encoding conforms to a standard TEI P5 schema. Each letter is represented in a TEI file, which also represents a single issue of a newspaper (the issue in which the letter appears). The basic architecture of each file is a TEI header, followed by a facsimile section, followed by a text section. The TEI header offers bibliographic information about the newspaper issue and the letter represented in the facsimile and text sections, respectively. In addition, the header includes standardized references to subjects, people, places, and events represented in the letter using the Library of Congress Authorities and Vocabularies (id.loc.gov) whenever possible. The purpose of the facsimile section is to provide, on a very basic level, the entirety of a newspaper issue. This file architecture and encoding offers an argument that the textual contexts in which letters appear are fundamental to understanding and interpreting the letters, as explored more fully above. The text section of each file is a semi-diplomatic transcription of the source text. We have retained hyphenation, punctuation, variant spellings, and errors present in the source text. Neither the transcription nor the encoding attempt to capture all aspects of the original formatting or layout. Nor are all aspects of the original formatting or layout replicated in the HTML web display.
For presentation on Civil War Washington, the XML of each letter is dynamically transformed into HTML for web display via XSLT (Extensible Stylesheet Language Transformations), using the web application framework Apache Cocoon.
1. "Letter from Washington," Anglo-African, June 20, 1863, . [back]
2. See the Anglo-African, November 28, 1863, , for example. [back]
3. Kate Masur, An Example for All the Land: Emancipation and the Struggle Over Equality in Washington, D.C. (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2010), 22, 49. [back]
4. Masur, 15. [back]
5. Masur, 15–16. [back]
6. See the Anglo-African, October 10, 1863, and September 19, 1863, , for example. [back]
7. Much of the information in this section has been adapted from Elizabeth Lorang and R. J. Weir, ed., ‘"'Will Not These Days be by Thy Poets Sung': Poems of the Anglo-African and National Anti-Slavery Standard, 1863-1864," Scholarly Editing 34 (2013), http://www.scholarlyediting.org/2013/editions/intro.cwnewspaperpoetry.html. [back]
8. John R. McKivigan, Forgotten Firebrand: James Redpath and the Making of Nineteenth-Century America (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2008), 68-69; C. Peter Ripley, ed., The Black Abolitionist Papers: The United States, 1859–1865 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1992), 5:39–40n. [back]
9. Ripley, 5:28. [back]
10. "Introductory," Anglo-African, July 27, 1861, . [back]
11. Christian Recorder, July 29, 1865, 3. [back]
12. Anglo-African, October 10, 1863, ; Anglo-African, August 1, 1863, . [back]
13. Anglo-African, August 1, 1863, . [back]
14. Anglo-African, October 31, 1863, . [back]
15. Anglo-African, November 7, 1863, . [back]
16. Carla L. Peterson, Black Gotham: A Family History of African Americans in Nineteenth-Century New York City (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2011), 218. [back]
17. John W. Blassingame, ed., The Frederick Douglass Papers, Series 1: Speeches, Debates, and Interviews (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1982), 2:511. [back]
18. Anglo-African, August 29, 1863, . [back]
19. Anglo-African, September 5, 1863, . [back]
20. Anglo-African, 10 October 1863, . [back]
21. Anglo-African, November 7, 1863, . [back]
22. "Trash" is the word Carter A. Stewart used to describe Tom Peeper's correspondence. See Anglo-African, 10 October 1863, 2. [back]
23. Christian Recorder, January 23, 1864, . [back]
24. William J. Simmons, Men of Mark: Eminent, Progressive, and Rising (Cleveland, Ohio: Rewell & Co., 1887), 304. [back]
25. Simmons, 304. [back]
26. Masur, 154, 162. [back]
27. Masur, 34. [back]
28. Masur, 34. [back]
29. Debra Jackson, "A Black Journalist in Civil War Virginia: Robert Hamilton and the Anglo-African," Virginia Magazine of History and Biography 116 (2008), 44–47; Ripley, 5:27–28. [back]
30. "To the Colored Citizens of the State of New York," Frederick Douglass’ Paper, January 15, 1852, p. 3; Craig Steven Wilder, A Covenant with Color: Race and Social Power in Brooklyn (New York: Columbia University Press, 2000), 73. [back]
31. Masur, 7. [back]
32. Anglo-African, June 20, 1863, . [back]
33. Anglo-African, June 20, 1863, . [back]
34. Anglo-African, November 14, 1863, [2-3]; Anglo-African, December 19, 1863, . [back]
35. Anglo-African, August 1, 1863, . [back]
36. Masur, 44. [back]
37. Anglo-African, January 30, 1864, . [back]
38. See, for example, John D. Cox, Traveling South: Travel Narratives and the Construction of American Identity (Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, 2005); Virginia Whatley Smith, "African American Travel Literature," in The Cambridge Companion to American Travel Writing, ed. Alfred Bendixen (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009). [back]
39. Tim Youngs, "Introduction: Filling the Blank Spaces," in Travel Writing in the Nineteenth Century: Filling the Blank Spaces, ed. Youngs (London: Anthem Press, 2006), 2. [back]
40. Anglo-African, August 29, 1863, . [back]
41. Anglo-African, August 29, 1863, . [back]
42. Youngs, 2: "Travel writing is not a literal and objective record of journeys undertaken. It carries preconceptions that, even if challenged, provide a reference point." [back]
43. Anglo-African, October 10, 1863, . [back]
44. Anglo-African, October 31, 1863, . [back]
45. Anglo-African, October 10, 1863, . [back]
46. Anglo-African, September 5, 1863, . [back]
47. Anglo-African, September 5, 1863, . [back]
48. Jackson, "A Black Journalist in Civil War Virginia," 50. [back]
49. Anglo-African, January 30, 1864, . [back]
50. Anglo-African, October 17, 1863,  [back]
51. Anglo-African, September 26, 1863, . [back]
52. Anglo-African, October, 10 1863, . [back]
53. Anglo-African, October 31, 1863, . [back]
54. Anglo-African, October 10, 1863, . [back]
55. Anglo-African, October 24, 1863, . [back]
56. Lorang and Weir, http://www.scholarlyediting.org/2013/editions/intro.cwnewspaperpoetry.html. [back]