Scholars, Lawyers, and Their Slaves
St. George and Nathaniel Beverley Tucker in the College Town of Williamsburg
St. George Tucker and Nathaniel Beverley Tucker taught law at the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia, with tenures covering the years 1788–1804 and 1834–51, respectively, following the American Revolution and before the American Civil War. A review of the case of these two professors, judges, and lawyers, St. George (1752–1827) and his son Nathaniel, commonly called Beverley (1784–1851), demonstrates how the focus on the individual achievements of great white men and the priority given to the years around the American Revolution influence public history and representations of slavery at the college and the adjacent living-history museum of Colonial Williamsburg. It also provides a perspective to examine how practices in commemorations surrounding the selective nature of preservation, restoration, and nomenclature have contributed to the virtual invisibility of the African American cultural heritage on Williamsburg’s built historic townscape.1
The built landscapes of American heritage are employed predominantly to visualize and promote knowledge about the accomplishments of notable whites. There is far less emphasis on informing the public about the involvements of other groups of people and in making their lifeways known within their own rights. This is the case for the college’s historic campus, the site of three major historical buildings, and the situation is similar for the St. George Tucker House, where the Tuckers lived with enslaved people, now a restored property in Colonial Williamsburg.2
Both the college and Colonial Williamsburg invoke American heritage through literary genres, performances, and built spaces, with specific references to illustrious white men like St. George Tucker (but less so to Beverley Tucker); Thomas Jefferson, an American founding father and president who attended the college; and George Wythe, its first professor of law, who was a signer of the Declaration of Independence. Jefferson and St. George Tucker studied law with Wythe, whose restored home is near the Tucker House. With the focus on the deeds of white men, like these famous students and teachers of the college and their links to the American Revolution, public history in Williamsburg has inspired the preservation and re-creation of historic landscapes that have underrepresented the complexities of the social and material world of slavery and, consequently, have resulted in interpretations that have minimized the histories and cultural heritages of lesser-known individuals and groups.3
St. George Tucker (1752–1827) by Bethuel Moore (1902–65), after Charles Balthazar Saint-Mémin (1770–1852). Courtesy of Special Collections Research Center, William and Mary Libraries.
Nathaniel Beverley Tucker (1784–1851) by Bethuel Moore (1902–65), after Joseph Wood (probably 1778–1830). Courtesy of Special Collections Research Center, William and Mary Libraries.
In Representations of Slavery: Race and Ideology in Southern Plantation Museums, Jennifer L. Eichstedt and Stephen Small provide an insightful discussion about the strategies and settings that have framed knowledge about the American past and diminished the contributions of specific groups of people. They identify individualism as a major concept in historical narrations that continues to perpetuate a guarded history: “The idea that the hard work and effort of individual (white) Americans is what made them successful is foundational to American mythology. Individualism demands that individuals create their own destiny from the sweat of their own brow; if we openly discuss or challenge this notion by pointing out that most of America’s great white heroes in fact made their wealth from the theft of land from Native Americans and the forced labor of African Americans, then the mythological status of individualism is seriously undermined.” Following Eichstedt and Small, what is usually suppressed at many historical sites is the information that “African Americans provided wealth for many great historical figures and lesser-known individuals alike.” Many historical sites and museums are challenged in their efforts to provide interpretations that balance the individual and the community, and perhaps this, too, is at the heart of the ongoing struggles in universities to deal with their own histories and legacies of slavery.4
Until recently, William and Mary resembled historic universities and colleges that largely have ignored their histories and legacies of slavery and predominantly have omitted such links from their profiles. The college has changed its apathetic position, especially since 2009, when it publicly acknowledged its ties to slavery and started seeking ways to deal with its legacies. Its historic campus came under particular scrutiny as an important place associated with slave labor. This core boasts the college’s main historic building, dating from 1695, called the Sir Christopher Wren Building (the Wren), named in recognition of its putative designer. This imposing brick structure served as residence, dining area, office, and classroom for over three centuries. It is still being used for classroom and office spaces. The Wren keeps company with two other historic structures: the Brafferton (1723), which was an Indian school in the eighteenth century, and the President’s House (1732), which has served as the residence for the college’s presidents over the years. These three buildings are venerated for their historic and ongoing significance to the college.5
This image of the historic campus by Thomas Millington includes the Brafferton, the Sir Christopher Wren Building, and the President’s House. It is known as the Millington Print and was completed sometime in the 1840s or in 1850. Courtesy of Special Collections Research Center, William and Mary Libraries.
The historic campus’s association with slavery is still not fully articulated in these acts of acknowledgment. For example, tours of the Wren present the college’s history as strongly focused on its imposing architecture, functions, and contents. This information is imparted within a landscape where there are few secondary structures to incorporate with the primary ones in presentations about slavery. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, there were several outbuildings in the college yards.6
The interpretive narratives vested in stories and displayed portraits of individuals pertinent to William and Mary’s history and development overwhelm any attention given to enslaved people who belonged to the college, worked there as hired laborers, or were personal servants of the students or the faculty. The visual displays at the Wren mainly represent illustrious figures like the college’s first president, James Blair, who served from 1693 to 1743; the British royals for whom the college is named; American presidents who attended the institution; and other famous Virginians buried in the crypt of its chapel. In April 2018 the college moved to diversify this space by adding two plaques on the Wren’s back portico. One honors Lynn Briley, Karen Ely, and Janet Brown Strafer, who were in residence at the college in September 1967 and became the first African Americans to graduate from there. The second plaque pays tribute to the twenty-four women whose enrollment in September 1918 made the institution the first coeducational university in Virginia.7
The Wren was among the earliest buildings to be reconstructed in the late 1920s as part of the restoration of the core area of eighteenth-century Williamsburg to the time when it was the capital of Virginia. The restoration tied the historic campus to the newly created Colonial Williamsburg. This heritage development was realized through the vision and work of the Reverend W. A. R. Goodwin, a local clergyman, and the enterprise and dedication of John D. Rockefeller Jr., a philanthropic millionaire. Colonial Williamsburg was designed to teach and advance knowledge about patriotism and nation building in its interpretation of the townscape, which was restored to represent the time around the American Revolution. From its early years, Colonial Williamsburg has involved representations of slavery and its legacies. These dotted exemplifications were partly directed through the largely unacknowledged but highly visible African American presenters and interpreters in exhibition areas such as kitchens and trade shops and through coachmen on the streets manning carriage rides, as well as the many representatives of this group working in hospitality, construction, and maintenance. Notwithstanding, the major buildings and the wider landscape were not used effectively to tell about the most distinguishing factor of the eighteenth-century town, namely, slavery. The museum did not treat this as a priority in its public history.8
From the 1960s but with far more impetus toward the late 1970s, the museum started to systematically develop stated goals, invest resources, and institute programs giving more attention to “community” and “lesser-known people” of the past. It not only promoted interpretations of slavery through character portrayals, vignettes, and music programs but also featured these offerings at a slave quarters, opened in 1988, at the Carter’s Grove Plantation about seven miles from the town. More provocative programming in town included the reenactment of an estate sale featuring a slave auction in 1994 and a year-long Enslaving Virginia Storyline interpretive initiative in 1999.9
By 2003 Colonial Williamsburg had launched Great Hopes Plantation as an interpretive space on the outskirts of its main historic core. It includes offerings similar to those of Carter’s Grove Plantation, which was no longer in operation. Within the created rural landscape of Great Hopes, Colonial Williamsburg introduced structures like slave quarters, a corn crib, and a barn and areas of fields and pastures directed to interpreting middling planters and their slaves. This built landscape contrasts with the adjacent urban setting of the museum’s main historic area, which strongly visualizes the white gentry’s history. However, the museum achieves varying levels of inclusion of slavery through interpretations at selected sites and within different programs, especially the presentations of the African American interpreters. The Revolutionary City program, which started in 2006, has revitalized the interpretations in the historic core of the museum. Its street theater and auxiliary offerings provided a broader representation of the town’s eighteenth-century inhabitants and an affecting way to understand the main issues and events surrounding the American Revolution. More recently, the museum has presented its programs without such encompassing programming.10
Colonial Williamsburg’s eighteenth-century priority influences the college’s public history, resulting in the latter’s strong focus on this period, too. During the years leading up to the American Civil War, the college had strategically fueled proslavery and secessionist thoughts and defenses, especially through the teachings and writings of professors like Thomas Roderick Dew, president from 1836 to 1846 (who started teaching there in the 1820s), and Beverley Tucker. The attention given to colonial history mostly trumps consideration of the antebellum period. Beverley is best known for his secessionist novel, The Partisan Leader (1836), which described events similar to the Civil War. The novel “predicts that the South one day will secede from the Union because of the growing tyranny of a northern-dominated federal government.” His story represents another approach to the rhetoric of equality, liberty, and justice.11
William and Mary and Colonial Williamsburg are invested in presenting a comprehensive and knowable history of Williamsburg. This study of the Tuckers and their slaves is encapsulated in this realm. The Tuckers outlined their views of slavery in speeches and writings formed in the crucible of the college, albeit from different perspectives: St. George proposed steps to abolish slavery, while Beverley agitated to keep it in place. Nevertheless, their dealings with people of African descent exhibited profound similarities. Both owned, sold, and managed slaves as they expounded education at the college and at the Tucker House.
The College, the Town, and Slavery
The history of William and Mary, founded in 1693 by a British royal charter, typifies the central role of slavery in educational institutions. The finances for its establishment and upkeep for many years, including scholarships for students, came from payments on tobacco and other products gained through slave labor. Well into the nineteenth century, the college perpetuated slavery and derived benefits from slave labor on campus and at a college-owned plantation, as well as through hiring out and selling enslaved people. Both anti-and proslavery sentiments at the college and in its adjacent town were predicated on the expectations that slavery would provide both the foundation and the pathway to economic wealth and social prestige.12
The symbiotic relationship of the college and the town started before Williamsburg was designated the capital, replacing Jamestown. This move was strongly predicated on economic and social benefits for both entities. Some of the college students were involved in the movement to persuade the colonial legislature to relocate its seat of government to the nascent town. One student pointed to the growing interdependency in the social and economic relations of these two entities, with each potentially supporting the well-being of the other. It was probably widely assumed that slavery would guarantee the growing vibrancy of this locality. For the next two centuries, the town and the college twined as together they experienced disasters and triumphs, including military invasions, occupations, and victories, and as they fought for preservation in war and peace.13
Nowhere is the association with the town more evident than in the college’s historic campus, especially at the Wren. The Wren, built between 1695 and 1700, dates to the period when Virginia was developing into a full-fledged slave society. Therefore, this building was most likely built with slave labor. Following the arrival of the twenty or more Africans in the colony in 1619, Africans and their descendants gradually became the colony’s main labor force. The growth of the college and the town paralleled that of slavery and stringent race relations in Virginia, including the push for separate living and working spaces for enslaved blacks. Many early slave quarters in Virginia that have been uncovered through archaeology date to this period.14
In first half of the eighteenth century, Hugh Jones, a professor who was working and living at the Wren, called for quarters to be built to accommodate the service people: “The Negroes and inferior servants belonging to the College … not only take up a great deal of room and are noisy and nasty, but also have often made the President, me, and others apprehensive of the great danger of being burnt with the College, through their carelessness and drowsiness.”15 His fear of fires was not unfounded, because the building had burned in 1705. It was destroyed by fire twice again, in 1859 and 1862. Each time it was rebuilt.16
Whether the slaves had contributed directly to the college’s misfortunes is difficult to prove, but perhaps they contributed to these incidents indirectly by supplying materials for the fires. They had the perpetual job of providing firewood for the college’s use; as a result, the wooded areas of its grounds and wider property areas were cleared. In August 1768 or soon thereafter, the slaves were joined by hired help in this activity, because the college’s president was authorized “to hire two Negroes and order such other Preparations as shall be necessary for Cutting and Carting Wood on the College Lands for the Use of the said College.”17
These workers may have strengthened the ties between the college and the town, helping to fashion a landscape to facilitate ongoing communication, governance, and trade between these two intertwined entities. Slaves in the town most likely worked to level areas by removing earth and filling in ravines, shore up and replace eroded areas, build drains and bridges, and repair roads. In 1722 the same Hugh Jones who had advocated for separate housing on the campus commented on an accomplishment that undoubtedly involved slave labor. He observed that “it is now a pleasant, long dry walk, broad, and almost level from the College to the Capitol,” still a characteristic of the landscape. Colonial Williamsburg’s archaeological study a little west of the Capitol in the spring of 2014 uncovered evidence of deep ravines and the many layers of building materials used in leveling this main area and street of the town.18
The demand for the slaves to provide firewood for the college remained high in the nineteenth century during Beverley Tucker’s tenure, which started in 1834. In 1837 a man named Joe was given the arduous task of cutting “four cords of wood weekly” while the school was in recess. He was probably the same Joe who had the job of “whitewash[ing] and clean[ing] the College chambers and Lecture rooms.” This was the venue Beverley used to nurture and promote his proslavery teachings, assuring his students of their rights to slave labor and expounding the positive good of slavery.19
Interestingly, while the college literally extended into the town, it considered itself a geographically separate place. This required language and behavior stipulating that one had to go to the town, a place seen as beneficial, as well as fraught with negative enticements and distractions. The campus had complemented the town in a vista from the latter’s main street, looking west. The additions of the Brafferton and the President’s House before the mid-eighteenth century oriented the campus eastward toward the town. Members of the college who did not reside in the town frequented it for its services. To control students’ trips to the town, the administration provided a boy to run errands in the mornings for “the young gentlemen” of the college. This individual, most likely a slave, was probably a well-known person in Williamsburg and may have suffered exhaustion in carrying out his tasks. To control the behavior of its staff, the college restricted visits to the town. In 1763 the college asked its white housekeeper to reduce her trips to the town because her absence was having a negative impact on the productivity of the blacks who needed her supervision, “especially in so large a Family as the College.”20
The college formulated and administered directives to ensure that the slaves did not work unsupervised and to prevent them from having access to its stores. As auxiliary buildings proliferated on the campus, including ones that served as slave living areas, the enslaved people continued to labor for staff, faculty, and students. Students without their own personal attendants sought to incorporate the college’s slaves in these duties, much to the displeasure of the administration. The slaves had to balance the demands for their time and labor from several individuals. The college also issued directives to protect slaves from abuse. The administration admonished students on the consequences for mistreating slaves, obviously overlooking its own indulgences in similar practices.21
Archaeological studies within the historic campus have uncovered objects such as cowrie shells and a stone marble with an incised cross mark. Historical and archaeological studies have linked these items with slave medicinal and ritual practices. That the college slaves had strong reasons to pursue their well-being through such measures can be surmised from evidence about their health. A listing of slaves at the college dating to the late eighteenth century shows that the institution hired out many of its enslaved people, and the ones that remained on the campus were classified as invalids or in poor health. At the time, the college was experiencing disruptions caused by the American Revolution, including problems acquiring funding; it resorted to selling some of the slaves to help with revenue for repairs to the buildings.22
By the time St. George Tucker established his household in Williamsburg in the late 1780s, the town had suffered a considerable decline in politics and commerce and even as a prime residential area. In 1780 the town lost its capital status, as the center of the Virginian government was moved to Richmond, about sixty miles away. This was the Williamsburg of St. George when he taught at the college and nurtured his children, including Beverley and Henry St. George, who, like their father, studied at William and Mary. Williamsburg remained in decline up to the time of St. George’s death in 1827 and Beverley’s death in 1851.23
The Tuckers and Slavery
Historical interpretations at the Tucker House in Colonial Williamsburg are concentrated on the house and to a lesser extent on its grounds. There is a remarkable absence of the many auxiliary buildings that served as either working or living areas, or both, for slaves. The achievements of the Tuckers, especially St. George, are represented in the restored house, its furnishings, the re-created gardens, and in the narratives about these spaces. Although a few programs are about slavery and freedom, they do not focus on the Tuckers and their slaves. Overall, these representations of the past do little to interpret what actually happened on the property.24
Williamsburg remained home for St. George and Beverley Tucker, although as judges and lawyers they traveled, worked, and lived elsewhere. A Bermudian born and bred, St. George fought on the American side in the Revolutionary War and had a more illustrious career than his son. He is famous for his 1803 five-volume edition of William Blackstone’s Commentaries, a legal work that Tucker analyzed in the contexts of the American Revolution and American and Virginian laws. Tucker’s Commentaries was “the first major legal treatise on American law” and was cited in the United States Supreme Court. His edition became “one of the most influential legal works of the early nineteenth century and the most comprehensive treatise on American constitutional law until around 1820.”25
List of slaves owned by the College of William and Mary ca. 1780. Courtesy of Special Collections Research Center, William and Mary Libraries.
St. George’s achievements contrast with Beverley’s less prominent military and judicial career. Aside from an imposing obelisk in Bruton Parish Church cemetery in Colonial Williamsburg, which marks his gravesite and honors his life with an elaborate epitaph, there is no other explicitly named reference to Beverley in the built landscape. Nevertheless, the Tucker House articulates his history, for it was his home.26
Like many of William and Mary’s faculty and students, chiefly individuals of elite and upper-middle-class backgrounds, the Tuckers expected deference from people they considered of lower social and economic standing, such as poor whites, Indians, and especially enslaved and free blacks. Slave-owning practices offered both economic and social prestige to whites and helped explain why a man like St. George, who was very much influenced by the ideals of liberty and the American Revolution, was unwilling to free his slaves. To his credit, he “taught his students that slavery was at the least a moral wrong” and described America as essentially a graveyard for the aspirations of blacks and not the land of promise as conceived and experienced by whites. As an early proponent of abolition, St. George crafted a proposal in 1796 for the demise of slavery even as he admitted his prejudices about blacks’ inability to live successfully among whites as freed people. He developed this “complicated and prejudicial” plan, called a dissertation, during his lectures at the college.27
St. George Tucker’s abolition plan would not have deprived him or his slaveholding contemporaries of their slaves, because it would be a very long and gradual scheme. On the other hand, it would have deprived freed blacks of many basic rights and rendered them landless, despised, working-class peasants limited to marrying their own kind. St. George’s own actions betrayed the limits of the plan. On December 2, 1796, just two days after he submitted his proposal to the Virginia Assembly (which rejected it), St. George tried to sell four slaves. He encouraged his agent to seek the best price in the transaction. In spite of his advocacy for freedom, he had little belief in the competence of free blacks to direct their own lives.28
Like the college, the households of the Tuckers were large, blended ones. St. George, for example, managed slaves he had purchased himself, as well as others from his two marriages. On his first marriage, to Frances Bland Randolph in 1778, he became responsible for three stepsons and “three large plantations and more than one hundred slaves.” This wife was Beverley’s mother, and after her death in 1788 Tucker left rural Virginia with his children and some enslaved people for Williamsburg, influenced by his desire to have his children educated at the college.29
Between 1788 and the 1820s, many of St. George’s family members, including some of his children, stepsons, and grandchildren, died. Beverley himself lost two wives and two children, who died before he started teaching at the college in 1834. By then he was in his third marriage, and his wife, Lucy Ann Smith from Missouri, came with him to Williamsburg. Enslaved people dealt with death in their own families and community and perhaps had shared times of grief with the Tuckers.30
Slaves came to the Tucker House after St. George’s second marriage, to Lelia Skipwith Carter in 1791, and their arrivals augmented his large domestic household in Williamsburg. In the mid-1790s his household had over twenty enslaved people and no fewer than ten slaves in any given year through the early nineteenth century. St. George and later Beverley not only sold slaves but moved them around to near and distant places. While some moves were temporary as the Tuckers practiced law, vacationed, and visited one another, other leave-takings were more permanent, as when St. George provided his children with slaves as wedding gifts. While a few slaves went with relatives on these moves, some had to leave their loved ones behind, and probably never saw them again. These factors characterized Beverley’s move to Missouri in 1815, as well as his return to Virginia in 1833.31
The mobility of the Tuckers and their slaves engendered a communication network of messaging. St. George’s children, who left Williamsburg with slaves to live elsewhere, sent messages to the Tucker House on behalf of their enslaved people to inform their relatives of the welfare of loved ones. In 1804 Henry St. George wrote about his slave Bob, who was with him as he practiced law in Winchester, Virginia. The boy was missing his enslaved mother and the sister he had left in Williamsburg. In his letter to St. George, Henry St. George informed his father about Bob’s concerns: “Poor fellow, thought I, and is it not then cruel to part you from those friends. Yet must we all do our duty in that state of life to which it has pleased God to call us: and am not I too separated from all my friends.”32
St. George’s children also wrote about missing the slaves they left behind at the Tucker House. Henry St. George’s letter also referred to meals St. George’s cook, Gabriel, had served him in Williamsburg. After his daughter Anne Frances had established her own household, St. George tried to purchase a slave of a similar disposition as Gabriel to serve her. In the early nineteenth century, both Anne Frances and Beverley regularly mentioned with affection an elderly enslaved woman named Phillis; they called her Granny. Granny Phillis eventually moved with Beverley to Missouri and apparently died there.33
Beverley Tucker and His Slaves
After practicing law in Missouri for almost seventeen years, Beverley returned to Williamsburg in the 1830s. He acquired the Tucker House for his own household sometime around the time of the passing of his stepmother in September 1837. Beverley resided there with his family and his slaves until his death in 1851. His daughter Cynthia Beverley Tucker Coleman called the slaves “servants” when she described them in her remembrances of the 1840s. This group included a nursemaid named Polly Valentine (Mammy Polly), a butler named Robert, and some children.34
In 1840 Professor Beverley Tucker was in his sixth year of teaching at the college and had as many as twenty enslaved people at his house. Even a professor of the college, Charles Minnigerode, was living at the Tucker House, undoubtedly allowing for more connections between slaves and the college’s professors. Minnigerode is credited with introducing an early version of the Christmas tree at the Tucker House in 1842, based on his German tradition. Beverley’s slaves probably participated in the birth of this new practice in Williamsburg.35
From an early age, Beverley was closely associated with enslaved women such as his mother’s maid, called Granny Aggy, and other nursemaids such as Granny Phillis and Mammy Polly. Apparently, like her father, Cynthia became attached to Mammy Polly, remembering her as an elegant and faithful woman. Beverley even had a house built for her at the back of the Tucker property.36
Polly Valentine’s house was built during a flurry of construction activities at the Tucker property in the 1840s, when Beverley had the house repaired and added a study. There was at least one slave quarters at the site prior to April 1835. It burned around that time, allowing Beverley to grade the slaves’ performances during this catastrophic event. He commented that they “worked like Beavers” to save things from a number of auxiliary buildings, including a smokehouse and a stable, which were also destroyed by this event. Like their counterparts at the college, the Tucker slaves had to deal with burned buildings and losses; they lost everything in the 1835 fire, but the Tuckers had insured the structures.37
Colonial Williamsburg’s archaeological excavations in the late 1980s uncovered evidence for a pier-supported house believed to be the remains of the 1840s home of Polly Valentine. Remnants of five piers helped to determine that the structure measured fifteen by twenty-five feet. It also had a substantial brick fireplace and a raised foundation, elements that appear to have met the recommendations of proslavery masters who advocated for better-built cabins and other changes to improve slave living and working conditions. Beverley likely followed such recommendations. Like many proslavery advocates, he believed that slaves benefited from their ties to their masters and from enslavement.38
The archaeological findings for the Valentine house at the back of the Tucker House, though remarkable, did not lead to its reconstruction in Colonial Williamsburg. This nineteenth-century asset in the built historic landscape joined other invisible properties of African American heritage in Williamsburg. It was not selected for restoration, a situation rather similar to that of the 1855 First Baptist Church, which was destroyed in 1957. But unlike the Valentine House, the church is remembered in the built landscape. It is commemorated in an exhibition on African American religion in a carriage house and also with a historic marker not far from the Tucker House. The church’s present-day congregation meets in a structure that was dedicated in 1956 and is located outside Colonial Williamsburg but near the college.39
Appreciation for Beverley Tucker’s contributions to America’s history has been overshadowed by veneration of his father. The college has immortalized St. George Tucker’s judicial and professorial career in practices of remembrance at its law school and at the St. George Tucker Hall. Both Tuckers are featured as past deans on the law school library’s website, indicating that St. George served in this capacity from 1790 to 1804 and Beverley from 1834 to 1851. Including Beverley’s story in commemorations, especially at Tucker Hall, would bring more attention to slavery, inviting comparisons of the views of the father and those of the son. A space could be provided at Tucker Hall for an exhibition, a memorial, an extensive storyboard, a panel of artwork, or other interpretive formats that could broaden knowledge about the Tuckers and include more representations about slavery and its legacies at the college. The hall is adjacent to the historic campus, and this would make for easier associations between displays there and public interpretations of the Wren.40
William and Mary’s steps to break through silences about slavery in its historic landscape are demonstrated explicitly in its digital public education. Swem Library’s Special Collections Research Center webpages feature articles, exhibition materials, and guides to the archival resources about the college’s history and legacies of slavery. Biographies and bibliographies about professors, including St. George and Beverley Tucker, who had strong ties to slavery are available for preview and research. Such materials bring visibility to these facets of the college’s history and ameliorate the impact of the somewhat limited interpretation of slavery and African American history in its built historic landscape.41
In 2009 the college founded “The Lemon Project: A Journey of Reconciliation” (the name credits one of the college’s slaves) to promote scholarship and other activities that illuminate its history of slavery and its relations with African Americans. In 2012 the college and Colonial Williamsburg started the Bray School archaeological study, centered on excavations at the college’s Brown Hall. This facility for black children operated from 1760 to 1774 and was affiliated with the college. Enslaved children from both the college and the town attended the school, which had a curriculum mainly based on religious education. The excavations at Brown Hall uncovered several fragments of slate pencils and other artifacts such as ceramics and marble, evidence for the eighteenth-century slave quarters that predated the school, as well as other structural features relating to different phases of occupation at the site.42 In February 1773 the college stipulated that “four Loads of Wood to be sent to Mrs Wager, who has the care of some young Negroes belonging to the College,” undoubtedly a task for the college’s slaves or hired enslaved workers.
In April 2018 William and Mary apologized for its slavery past and legacy of discrimination, noting in a resolution that “the Board of Visitors acknowledges that William & Mary enslaved people, exploited them and their labor, and perpetuated the legacies of racial discrimination. The Board profoundly regrets these activities, apologizes for them, expresses its deep appreciation for the contributions made by the African American members of its community to the vitality of William & Mary then, now, and for all time coming, and commits to continue our efforts to remedy the lingering effects of past injustices.”43 The board also vowed to continue its support of the collaborative work of the Lemon Project, which has been shedding light on enslaved and free blacks connected to the college’s history and fostering collaborative activities with descendant individuals and communities. The project influenced the college’s decision in 2016 in naming two residence halls, one honoring Lemon and the other the late Carroll Hardy, an administrator who contributed to diversity and student affairs. The director of the Lemon Project and a member of the history department faculty, Jody Allen, is championing efforts to have a memorial for the enslaved people of the college’s past be placed on the campus.44
Colonial Williamsburg for a long time has featured programs about the Bray School, including performances by historical interpreter Antoinette Brennan. Brennan portrays Anne Wager, who served as the headmistress of the school. As Wager, Brennan also presents information about the school at the Tucker House.45 Colonial Williamsburg also has a group of interpreters called Nation Builders (with reference to historic individuals with distinguished accomplishments like Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, and a few figures that are not as well known in the historical records) who role play historical characters at the Tucker House. As Nation Builders, historical interpreters James Ingram Jr. (who performs as a formerly enslaved black preacher and pastor named Gowan Pamphlet, one of the founding ministers of the First Baptist Church) and Emily James (who performs as a free black woman of mixed ancestry called Edith Cumbo) present information about slavery and African American history in their programs at the site. Occasionally, Ingram and James mention the Tuckers in their programs, although the Tuckers are not the focus of their interpretations.46
The Tuckers and their enslaved people probably knew Pamphlet and Cumbo. Pamphlet’s Baptist congregation in late eighteenth-century Williamsburg was about five hundred members strong, and during the nineteenth century the group met in a structure not far from the Tucker House. Edith Cumbo was likely the sister of Solomon Cumbo, a carter and waterman who delivered building materials like garden pales to the Tucker property in the late eighteenth century.47
It is interesting to speculate what St. George and Beverley would have thought about the almost total exclusion of information about enslaved people in programs at the Tucker House, since they encouraged communication from them. When the Tuckers were away from Williamsburg, they relied on enslaved people to inform them about affairs at their house. St. George, for example, relied on two enslaved man, Phil Anthony and Robert Edmondson, to help in the management and general upkeep of the property. Their letters told of their labor at the Tucker House and on its grounds, including in its gardens. The enslaved men also informed the Tuckers about the activities and welfare of the other enslaved people and even the conditions of the white neighbors, with descriptions of illnesses, broken fences, and the sharing of garden produce. What might have provoked the Tuckers’ dismay, and perhaps even their ire, are the ways their own thoughts and agitations about slavery have now been silenced in their own house.48
For Colonial Williamsburg, the Tucker House is a special place; it is a reception center for donors. Here, significant financial contributors to (public) history can find rest and revitalization in the comfort of this restored home as staff and volunteers serve them coffee, cookies, lemonade, and light refreshments. These guests are welcomed as if they are on a visit to someone’s actual home. They are introduced to the architecture and furnishing and entertained with the life stories of the Tuckers. Images of the Tuckers are displayed on walls throughout the interpretive spaces. Like at the Wren, the visual displays and the narratives about individual illustrious whites overshadow references to slavery and enslaved people. The programs of Brennan, Ingram, and James are not directed to impart any vital information about the Tuckers’ association with slavery or about enslaved people associated with the property. The museum could work to remedy this situation by providing detailed information at the house and on the site’s webpage.49
African American visitors with a memorial of Thomas Jefferson in Merchant’s Square, Williamsburg, Virginia. Courtesy of the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation.
Colonial Williamsburg has to continue its efforts to democratize its historical interpretations and broaden representations of its heritage landscape. While evidence for geographically separate structures for historic African American home life within the museum’s core is limited, and while the interpretive priority of depicting eighteenth-century Colonial Williamsburg partially justifies not reconstructing known nineteenth-century sites, there are still opportunities to interpret the landscape in more inclusive ways. A stronger focus should be on digital reconstructions and increased efforts directed to diverse and holistic programming both within and outside extant historic structures, as well as reconstructed ones.
The museum could construct markers and memorials in places where such testaments would not compromise its interpretive-period priority. For example, areas at the main visitors’ center and also at a shopping section next to the college called Merchants Square offer strong potential for such activities. A sculpture of Thomas Jefferson is already sited in a strategic location in this square, and it bears an affinity to another monument venerating him at the college.
The college’s memorials to great white men in its landscape also include a bronze statue of Virginia’s governor Norborne Berkeley, baron de Botetourt, who served the colony from 1768 to 1770. A reproduction made in 1993 of the statue is located at the front of the Wren Building. It is based on an original that was placed at the Capitol in 1773 and later installed in the college yard in 1801, where it stood for over 150 years before it was relocated to the Swem Library’s basement. Yet there are equally key places where markers or other memorials about slavery could be placed, including areas within and near the historic campus. Likewise, the texts of extant markers on campus could be revised to include the roles of specific individuals and the history of specific buildings as they relate to the college’s slavery past.50
The historic campus and the Tucker House not only represent the achievements of illustrious white men but also register and showcase the contributions of other individuals, groups, and communities. Slavery and the stories of enslaved people are integral to this heritage and cannot be omitted or sidelined without compromising commitments to sound scholarship and without endangering activities to strengthen inclusion. Commemorations should continue to involve more creative interpretations of the tangible historic properties and, at the same time, to provide more individual testimonies related to the neglected history of enslavement. In the case of the Tuckers and their slaves, there is strong evidence to support a more diversified appreciation of this heritage in Williamsburg.
1. The Tucker-Coleman Collection at the College of William and Mary’s Earl Gregg Swem Library Special Collections Research Center (Swem SCRC) is a rich source of information on the Tuckers and their slaves. Transcripts of selected items from the collection are available at the John D. Rockefeller Jr. Library, the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation. For biographical data on the Tuckers, see materials on the Tuckers at http://scdb.swem.wm.edu/wiki/index.php/St._George_Tucker and http://scdb.swem.wm.edu/wiki/index.php/Nathaniel_Beverley_Tucker_(1784-1851). Materials from Swem SCRC collated from my own research visits and those of Alexander Gebhard, a Colonial Williamsburg intern during the summer of 2010, are used in this present study of the Tuckers and their slaves. For an early publication on this topic, see Mrs. George P. Coleman, collector and ed., Virginia Silhouettes: Contemporary Letters Concerning Negro Slavery in the State of Virginia (Richmond: Dietz Printing Co., 1934). Key works on the Tuckers include Phillip Hamilton, The Making and Unmaking of a Revolutionary Family: The Tuckers of Virginia 1752–1830 (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2003); articles in William and Mary Law Review 47, no. 4 (2006); and Robert J. Brugger, Beverley Tucker: Heart over Head in the Old South (Baltimore, Md.: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1978). For a discussion of the history and restoration of the town, including the college, see Robert P. Maccubbin, ed., Williamsburg, Virginia: A City before the State 1699–1999 (Williamsburg: City of Williamsburg, distributed by the University Press of Virginia, 2000).
2. “College of William and Mary,” http://scdb.swem.wm.edu/wiki/index.php/College_of_William_and_Mary; Roberta G. Laynor, Carl R. Lounsbury, and Mark R. Wenger, “St. George Tucker House: An Architectural Analysis; Block 29, Building 2,” Colonial Williamsburg Foundation Library Research Report Series (2003); “St. George Tucker House,” http://www.history.org/almanack/places/hb/hbtucker.cfm
3. Vital Facts: A Chronology of the College of William and Mary (1921; Williamsburg, Va., 1999), https://digitalarchive.wm.edu/handle/10288/17231; Michael Wallace, “Visiting the Past: History Museums in the United States,” in Public History Readings, ed. Phyllis K. Leffler and Joseph Brent (Malabar, Fla.: Krieger Publishing Company, 1992), 429–55; Richard Handler and Eric Gable, The New History in an Old Museum: Creating the Past at Colonial Williamsburg (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1997); Davison M. Douglas, “Foreword: The Legacy of St. George Tucker,” William and Mary Law Review 47, no. 4 (2006), http://scholarship.law.wm.edu/wmlr/vol47/iss4/2; Paul Finkelman, “The Dragon St. George Could Not Slay: Tucker’s Plan to End Slavery,” William and Mary Law Review 47, no. 4 (2006), http://scholarship.law.wm.edu/wmlr/vol47/iss4/5; Laynor, Lounsbury, and Wenger, “St. George Tucker House”; “St. George Tucker,” http://www.history.org/almanack/people/bios/biotuck.cfm; Terry L. Meyers, “A First Look at the Worst: Slavery and Race Relations at the College of William and Mary,” William and Mary Bill of Rights Journal 16 (2008), http://scholarship.law.wm.edu/wmborj/vol16/iss4/8; Carl Lounsbury, “Ornaments of Civic Aspiration: The Public Buildings of Williamsburg,” in Maccubbin, Williamsburg, Virginia, 25–38; Thaddeus W. Tate Jr., “Town and Gown through Three Centuries: William and Mary in the Life of Williamsburg,” in Maccubbin, Williamsburg, Virginia, 137–56.
4. Jennifer L. Eichstedt and Stephen Small, Representations of Slavery: Race and Ideology in Southern Plantation Museums (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 2002), 165.
5. Alfred L. Brophy, “Considering William and Mary’s History with Slavery: The Case of President Thomas Roderick Dew,” William & Mary Bill of Rights Journal 16 (2008), http://scholarship.law.wm.edu/wmborj/vol16/iss4/7; Meyers, “A First Look”; Slavery and Universities, http://slavery-and-universities.wikispaces.com/; Sven Beckert, Katherine Stevens, and the students of the Harvard and Slavery Research Seminar, Harvard and Slavery: Seeking a Forgotten History (Harvard University, 2011), http://www.harvardandslavery.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/Harvard-Slavery-Book-111110.pdf; The Lemon Project: A Journey of Reconciliation, http://www.wm.edu/sites/lemonproject/?svr=web; http://scholarship.law.wm.edu/wmborj/vol16/iss4/8; Brian Whitson, Erin Zagursky, and WYDaily Staff, “William & Mary Apologizes for College’s History of Slavery, Discrimination,” Williamsburg Yorktown Daily, April 20, 2018, https://wydaily.com/local-news/2018/04/20/william-mary-apologizes-for-colleges-history-of-slavery-discrimination; Vital Facts; College of William and Mary, “Wren Building,” http://scdb.swem.wm.edu/wiki/index.php/Wren_Building.
6. Meyers, “A First Look,” 1145.
7. Vital Facts; Lounsbury, “Ornaments”; Tate, “Town and Gown”; “Wren Building: Oldest Academic Structure in America,” http://www.history.org/almanack/places/hb/hbwren.cfm; “James Blair,” http://scdb.swem.wm.edu/wiki/index.php/James_Blair; Whitson et al., “William & Mary Apologizes.”
8. Ywone Edwards-Ingram, “Before 1979: African American Coachmen, Visibility, and Representation at Colonial Williamsburg,” Public Historian 36, no. 1 (February 2014): 9–35.
9. Handler and Gable, The New History; Cary Carson, “Colonial Williamsburg and the Practice of Interpretive Planning in American History Museums,” Public Historian 20, no. 3 (Summer 1998): 11–51; Carson, “The End of History Museums: What’s Plan B?,” Public Historian 30, no. 4 (Fall 2008): 9–27; Dan Eggen, “In Williamsburg, the Painful Reality of Slavery,” Washington Post, July 7, 1999.
10. “Great Hopes for Great Hopes,” Colonial Interpreter 24, no. 2 (Summer 2003): 1; Carson, “The End of History Museums”; Scott Magelssen, “Revolutionary City,” review, Theatre Journal 59, no. 1 (March 2007): 117–19.
11. Brophy, “Considering”; also see Terry Meyers, “If At First You Don’t Secede … ,” Williamsburg Magazine, January 2010, 52–53; Hamilton, The Making, 203.
12. Jennifer Bridges Oast, “Forgotten Masters: Institutional Slavery in Virginia, 1680–1860” (PhD diss., College of William and Mary, 2008); also see Meyers, “A First Look.” This discussion of the college’s history of slavery draws heavily from these two sources.
13. Jennifer Agee Jones, “The Very Heart and Centre of the County: From Middle Plantation to Williamsburg,” in Maccubbin, Williamsburg, Virginia, 15–24; “Speeches of Students of the College of William and Mary Delivered May 1, 1699,” William and Mary Quarterly, 2nd ser., 10, no. 4 (October 1930): 323–37. Also see Lounsbury, “Ornaments”; Tate, “Town and Gown”; and Meyers, “A First Look.”
14. See “The Wren.” The observation about slave housing is based on my 2001 research for the exhibition The Evolution of the Slave Quarter in Tidewater Virginia (opened February 2002), Yorktown Victory Center, Jamestown/Yorktown Foundation, Virginia.
15. Oast, “Forgotten Masters,” 173.
16. “Wren Building.”
17. “Journal of the Meetings of the President and Masters of William and Mary College,” William and Mary Quarterly, 1st ser., 13, no. 1 (July 1904): 15–22, 16; Oast, “Forgotten Masters,” 177.
18. M. Kent Brinkley, “The Topographic Evolution of Williamsburg over Three Centuries,” in Taking Possession Storyline Resource Book (Williamsburg: Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, 1999), 193; personal communication with Andrew Edwards, Colonial Williamsburg’s staff archaeologist and observations, spring 2014; Mark St. John Erickson, “Colonial Williamsburg Archaeologists Unearth Lost Landscape of America’s ‘Most Historic Avenue,’” Daily Press, April 20, 2014.
19. Oast, “Forgotten Masters,” 178; Meyers, “A First Look,” 1150.
20. Lounsbury, “Ornaments,” 28–30; Tate, “Town and Gown,” 137–44; Oast, “Forgotten Masters,” 176–79; and Meyers, “A First Look,” 1146.
21. Oast, “Forgotten Masters,” 175, 179–86; and Meyers, “A First Look,” 1145–46.
22. Oast, “Forgotten Masters,” 174–75, 190–96; “List of Slaves Owned by the College of William and Mary, circa 1780,” Swem SCRC, https://digitalarchive.wm.edu/handle/10288/16261; Mark P. Leone and Gladys-Marie Fry, “Conjuring in the Big House Kitchen: An Interpretation of African American Belief Systems Based on the Uses of Archaeology and Folklore Sources,” Journal of American Folklore 112, no. 445 (1999): 372–403; Tate, “Town and Gown,” 140.
23. Tate, “Town and Gown,” 140–44; Laynor, Lounsbury, and Wenger, “St. George Tucker House,” 15; see also Ralph H. Brown, “St. George Tucker versus Jedidiah Morse on the Subject of Williamsburg,” William and Mary Quarterly, 2nd ser., 20, no. 4 (October 1940): 487–91; Stephen Bonsol, “D’Aucteville’s Description of Williamsburg, and of the American Troops near Williamsburg, in 1781,” William and Mary Quarterly, 2nd ser., 20, no. 4 (October 1940): 502–3.
24. “The St. George Tucker House,” http://www.history.org/foundation/development/tucker.cfm. This definition of history draws on Michel-Rolph Trouillot, Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History (Boston: Beacon Press, 1995).
25. Douglas, “Foreword,” 1112–14, see page 1114 for the quote.
26. Mary Haldane Coleman, St. George Tucker, Citizen of No Mean City (Richmond, Va.: Dietz Press, 1938); Meyers, “If At First”; Robert Doares Jr., “The Life and Literature of Nathaniel Beverley Tucker,” Colonial Williamsburg 23, no. 3 (Autumn 2001): 66–71; Brugger, “Beverley Tucker,” 196.
27. See Coleman, Virginia Silhouettes. Finkelman, “The Dragon,” provides an in-depth analysis of the dissertation; the quote is on page 1216. More analysis is in Phillip Hamilton, “Revolutionary Principles and Family Loyalties: Slavery’s Transformation in the St. George Tucker Household of Early National Virginia,” William and Mary Quarterly, 3rd ser., 55, no. 4 (October 1998): 531–56.
28. Finkelman, “The Dragon,” 1230–38; Hamilton, The Making, 83, 50, 151; and Hamilton, “Revolutionary Principles,” 536–37. Apparently, these slaves belonged to his daughter, and Tucker later invested the proceeds from the sale in bank shares for her; document by St. George Tucker, December 2, 1796, Tucker-Coleman Collection, transcribed by Alexandria Gebhard. Also see St. George’s letter to John Coalter (his daughter Anne Frances’s husband), February 21, 1801, in Coleman, St. George Tucker, 133–34.
29. Hamilton, “Revolutionary Principles,” 533; Hamilton, The Making, 43–64, 79, as well as the genealogical chart in the introduction; Laynor, Lounsbury, and Wenger, “St. George Tucker House,” 15; Mary A. Stephenson, “Tucker House, Block 29, Colonial Lots 163, 164, 169, Tucker House Historical Report, Block 29 Building 2 Lots 163, 164, 169” (1947), Colonial Williamsburg Foundation Library Research Report Series, RR. 1562 (1990), see the appendix, “1815 List of Taxable Property.”
30. Information compiled from Laynor, Lounsbury, and Wenger, “St. George Tucker House,” app. 1, 81–105; and from Doares, “The Life and Literature.”
31. Stephenson, “Tucker House Historical Report,” appendix, illustration no. 5, 2–3; Meyers, “A First Look,” 1510; Coleman, Virginia Silhouettes, 10; John Blassingame, ed., Slave Testimony: Two Centuries of Letters, Speeches, Interviews, and Autobiographies (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1977), 8–12. For Tucker’s gift to Beverley on his marriage, see St. George Tucker to John Coalter, December 4, 1808, Richmond, Tucker/Coleman Collection, Colonial Williamsburg, original at the Swem Library. Also see St. George Tucker to John Coalter, February 21, 1801, in Coleman, St. George Tucker, 133–34; Brugger, “Beverley Tucker,” 46, 86–97; Hamilton, The Making, 152, 188.
32. Blassingame, Slave Testimony, 8–12. See Coleman, Virginia Silhouettes, 10, for the quote.
33. See Coleman, Virginia Silhouettes, 8; Coleman, St. George Tucker, 160; Hamilton, The Making, 152, 188; Brugger, “Beverley Tucker,” 46, 224; Laynor, Lounsbury, and Wenger, “St. George Tucker House,” 95.
34. Brugger, “Beverley Tucker,” 45–195; Laynor, Lounsbury, and Wenger, “St. George Tucker House,” 101; Tate, “Town and Gown,” 141; Meyers, “A First Look,” 1150; Meyers, “If At First”; Coleman, Virginia Silhouettes, 53–59.
35. Meyers, “A First Look,” 1150; Doares, “The Life and Literature”; Will Molineux, “Millennial Moment: Virginia’s First Christmas Tree,” Daily Press, December 16, 1999.
36. Coleman, Virginia Silhouettes, 28, 53–59; Ywone Edwards, “Master-Slave Relations: A Williamsburg Perspective” (master’s thesis, College of William and Mary, 1990); Coleman, St. George Tucker, 133–34; Hamilton, The Making, 152, 158; Hamilton, “Revolutionary Principles,” 550–51; Blassingame, Slave Testimony, 10; William Cabel Bruce, John Randolph of Roanoke 1773–1833 (New York: Octagon Books, 1970), 2:700–701.
37. Edwards, “Master-Slave Relations,” 107–9; Stephenson, “St. George Tucker House Historical Report,” appendix, illustration no. 3, 1835–43.
38. Edwards, “Master-Slave Relations,” 108–16; James O. Breeden, ed., Advice among Masters: The Ideals in Slave Management in the Old South (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1980); Brophy, “Considering”; Meyers, “If At First.”
39. Edwards, “Master-Slave Relations,” 122–23; Ywone Edwards-Ingram, “More Than Memory: Representing an African American Neighborhood at the Ravenscroft Site,” Colonial Williamsburg Interpreter 30, no. 1 (Spring 2009): 1–6; “Gowan Pamphlet,” http://www.history.org/almanack/people/bios/biopam.cfm; Patricia Samford, “First Baptist Church Archaeological Report, Block 38, Building 33,” originally entitled “First Baptist Church Archaeological Briefing” (1985), Colonial Williamsburg Foundation Library Research Report Series 1621 (Colonial Williamsburg Foundation Library Williamsburg, Virginia, 1990).
40. Law School Deans, http://scholarship.law.wm.edu/deans/; Tucker Papers Project Information, http://oieahc.wm.edu/tucker/project.html; Tucker Hall, http://scdb.swem.wm.edu/wiki/index.php/Tucker_Hall; Tucker Hall (Renovation), http://www.wm.edu/about/administration/senioradmin/adminoffice/construction/projects/tucker/index.php.
42. “The Lemon Project”; Robert Engs, “The College, Race, and Slavery: Report to the Provost and Faculty, December 1, 2008 / February 12, 2009, the College of William and Mary,” http://slavery-and-universities.wikispaces.com/file/view/The+College,Race+%26+Slavery.pdf. For historical information on the Bray School, see Terry L. Meyers, “Benjamin Franklin, the College of William and Mary, and the Williamsburg Bray School,” Anglican and Episcopal 79, no. 4 (December 2010): 368–93. Terry Meyers, an English professor at William and Mary, has conducted a relentless search for information about the location of the Bray School, and his findings directed the location for the archaeological study. See “Slavery and the School: The College’s Forgotten Past,” pod-cast, November 18, 2013, http://podcast.history.org/2013/11/18/slavery-and-the-school-the-colleges-forgotten-past/; Joseph McClain, “Search for 1760 Bray School Turns Up Something Even Older,” August 7, 2013, http://www.wm.edu/news/stories/2013/bray-school-search-finds-something-even-older-123.php; personal communication with Colonial Williamsburg’s staff archaeologist, Mark Kostro, spring 2014.
43. Whitson et al., “William & Mary Apologizes.”
45. Meyers, “A First Look,” 1146; Oast, “Forgotten Masters,” 187–88; “The Bray School, September 29, 2008,” http://www.history.org/media/podcasts/092908/TheBraySchool.cfm; “The St. George Tucker House,” http://www.history.org/foundation/development/tucker.cfm.
46. “The St. George Tucker House”; Gowan Pamphlet; Linda H. Rowe, “Gowan Pamphlet: Baptist Preacher in Slavery and Freedom,” Virginia Magazine of History and Biography 120, no. 1 (January 2012): 2–31; “Edith Cumbo,” http://www.history.org/almanack/people/bios/bioedithcumbo.cfm.
47. Stephenson, “Tucker House Historical Report,” 9, 12.
49. “The St. George Tucker House,” http://www.history.org/foundation/development/tucker.cfm. For more on the personal nature of historic house presentations, see Jessica Adams, “Local Color: The Southern Plantation in Popular Culture,” Cultural Critique 42 (Spring 1999): 163–87.
50. Norborne Berkeley, 4th Baron de Botetourt (1718–70), https://scdbwiki.swem.wm.edu/wiki/index.php?title=Norborne_Berkeley,_4th_Baron_de_Botetourt_(1718-1770); “Lord Botetourt Statue, Constructed 1770–1773,” http://tribetrek.wm.edu/items/browse?search=botetourt&sort_field=relevance.