top of page
Search

Slavery in Wilbraham: A Reflection from 1745 to 1780

  • David Bourcier
  • 7 days ago
  • 4 min read

Updated: 6 days ago

Historical records and local traditions indicate that during the mid-18th century, approximately between 1745 and 1780, at least five families in Wilbraham, Massachusetts, held enslaved people in their households. Among them was the Reverend Noah Merrick, who is believed to have had three individuals in servitude, likely inherited by his wife from her family estate in Haddam, Connecticut. David Merrick reportedly had one enslaved person, as did Captain John Shaw. Dr. Samuel F. Merrick, son of Rev. Noah Merrick, also enslaved two individuals—though it’s possible they, too, were part of the family inheritance.


A particularly troubling and memorable story survives about the two individuals enslaved by Dr. Merrick: Luke and Luc (likely short for Lucy). Luc was remembered by descendants as warm-hearted and nurturing, playing a key role in the household’s daily life. Luke was also described as diligent and kind, most of the time, but was known to suffer from intense, unpredictable outbursts of rage. These moments, described by those who recalled the story, could come without warning, manifesting in destructive episodes that terrified the household.

Dr. Samuel F. Merrick's home (David F. Bourcier)
Dr. Samuel F. Merrick's home (David F. Bourcier)

When such fits occurred and the men of the house were absent, the women would try to coax Luke outside, lock the doors, and let him vent his fury outdoors. One such episode is still remembered in family lore. On a day when the men were away working in a distant meadow, Luke returned to the house for water and, finding a chair momentarily placed in the doorway, hurled it across the yard in a fit of rage. Luc quickly locked the door, and Luke stormed off toward the barn, reportedly damaging whatever he came across.


As the family prepared the midday meal, Mrs. Merrick, alone in the pantry, heard a noise behind her and turned to see Luke’s face, still consumed by anger, peering in through the open window. His hand reached toward the shelves, as though preparing to climb inside. Startled and frightened, she fled to the kitchen, where Luc comforted her. It is said dinner may have been delayed that day, and that Luke perhaps didn’t eat at all.

The Enslaved Working on a Farm (Henry P. Moore)
The Enslaved Working on a Farm (Henry P. Moore)

When Massachusetts adopted its constitution in 1780, slavery was effectively outlawed in the state. Yet not all enslaved individuals were granted the freedom the law promised. According to some accounts, a number of enslaved people from Wilbraham were taken under false pretenses by their enslavers. They were invited to travel to Hartford, Connecticut, for a visit and encouraged to board a sloop at the wharf for a supposed celebration. As music and dancing ensued, the vessel quietly departed downriver. The individuals aboard were never seen or heard from again. Though it was long rumored they had been sold back into slavery in the South, some families strongly denied this claim.


Some months later, after the constitution was adopted, a baby girl was born into the Merrick household. She bore what was described as the imprint of a broad, dark hand across her chest. How this mark came to be was left to quiet speculation.


In the decades that followed, as the nation inched closer to civil war, Wilbraham, like many New England towns, quietly took part in an informal network known as the Underground Railroad. This clandestine system offered aid and shelter to freedom seekers escaping slavery in the South, often en route to Canada.


One such possible haven was a house in Wilbraham Center, across from Chauncy Peck’s former home. When it was torn down around 1907, two separate cellars were discovered—one accessed only by a trapdoor in the pantry. The discovery gave weight to long-whispered beliefs that the home had served as a stop on the Underground Railroad.


That home had once belonged to Reverend Mr. Virgin, who lived there around 1838. In later years, when the story circulated, Peck reached out to the reverend’s son, also a clergyman, to verify it. The son replied that he could "neither confirm nor deny" the tale, but added that in those days, his mother, affectionately known as "Mother Virgin," would never have turned away a person in need, whether a homesick student or a freedom seeker fleeing the horrors of bondage.


Other accounts support this local involvement in anti-slavery efforts. At the home of Edward Morris, two freedom seekers were once discovered by their pursuers. A struggle ensued; one escaped into the nearby woods, while the other was captured and taken away in chains.


No record exists of any local assistance being offered to those pursuing the fugitives, suggesting that local sympathies may have rested with the oppressed.


Glendale played a significant role in the Underground Railroad. After the founding of the American Anti-Slavery Society in 1833, Wilbraham became an active center of abolitionist activity. Enslaved individuals fleeing north from Connecticut or east from Springfield often found refuge in the wooded hills and deep ravines of Glendale—an area that today includes parts of both Wilbraham and Hampden. These natural landscapes offered shelter and concealment, making the region an important passage on the journey to freedom.


Among the local leaders in the abolitionist cause were John Calkins, a shoemaker living in South Wilbraham (now Ames Road in Hampden), and his wife, Lucia Day Calkins. John Calkins helped spread awareness of the anti-slavery movement by sharing The Liberator, a prominent abolitionist newspaper published in Boston from 1831 to 1865. This influential four-page weekly, edited by William Lloyd Garrison, became one of the most important voices for abolition in 19th-century America. Through their efforts, the Calkins family and their neighbors played a vital role in supporting those seeking freedom and advancing the cause of emancipation.


While slavery existed in Wilbraham, so too did resistance. And within the homes of everyday citizens, some remembered, some forgotten, there lived individuals who bore the weight of bondage, and others who, when the time came, chose compassion over compliance.

 
 
 

Kommentare


bottom of page