At the Upton Metro Station at Pennsylvania Avenue and Laurens Street, an explosion of color greets transit patrons at the conclusion of their escalator journey. “Baltimore Uproar,” a monumental mosaic by the renowned African-American artist Romare Bearden, depicts a jazz band fronted by a singer of ambiguous identity—perhaps Baltimore’s own Billie Holiday. It is no coincidence that Pennsylvania Avenue, which runs directly above ground and recently became a state-designated Arts & Entertainment District, is Baltimore’s historical center for jazz. How did Baltimore attract such a prestigious commission as Bearden?
Born in North Carolina in 1911, Romare Bearden was one of the most influential American artists of the 20th century. He explored numerous forms of art throughout his career, including painting, stage design, and songwriting—but Bearden is best known for his rich collages. His subject matter often dealt with African-American life and the American South, and had a humanistic bent inspired by his experiences serving in World War II. Bearden was also a founding member of The Spiral, a Harlem collective dedicated to debating the role of the African-American artist in the civil rights movement.
A strong baseball player as a young man, Bearden was offered—but declined—a spot on the Philadelphia Athletics fifteen years before Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier in 1947. In 1932 while playing for the all-Black, semi-pro Boston Tigers, Bearden pitched against the legendary Satchel Paige, who had played for the Baltimore Black Sox just two years earlier.
Shortly after Bearden graduated from New York University in 1935, Carl Murphy, the publisher of Baltimore’s Afro-American newspaper, offered him a job as a weekly editorial cartoonist. Bearden’s cartoons, which featured prominently on the opinions page, reflected on the realities of America in the time of Jim Crow and the Great Depression.
Bearden’s masterpiece is located on a metro line which, while functional, is just a sample of what a comprehensive metro system could have been for Baltimore. A 1968 planning report envisioned a rapid transit system with six lines emanating from downtown and extending out to the greater Baltimore region—but today, only a northwestern line to Owings Mills and a spur to Johns Hopkins Hospital has been completed. Each metro station was designed by a different architect and received a public artwork by artists of varying renown. Bearden, whose $114,000 mosaic cost the MTA about $30,000 more than the second-most expensive artwork, stood out as the most famous artist of the nine selected. The mosaic, made of fine yet fragile Venetian glass and ceramic and measuring 14 by 46 feet, was assembled in Italy.
“Baltimore Uproar” was unveiled on December 15, 1982. In a 1983 Sun article evaluating public art in the fledgling metro system, art critic John Dorsey acknowledged the mosaic’s grandeur and fitting subject matter, but concluded that the reaction of the public would be the only authentic evaluation. Since its unveiling, Baltimore has indeed embraced and appreciated Bearden’s token to the city that helped shape him.
In 1939 sociologist, activist, author, and cofounder of the NAACP, W. E. B. (William Edward Burghardt) Du Bois, had a house built at 2302 Montebello Terrace in the neighborhood of Morgan Park. Barred from many neighborhoods by Jim Crow laws and redlining, Black people could build and own their homes in Morgan Park, a few blocks away from Morgan State University (which was called Morgan College until 1975). Other notable residents of the neighborhood included the musical giants Eubie Blake and Cab Calloway, and the founder of the Afro-American newspapers, Carl Murphy. According to Murphy’s daughter, he and Du Bois would discuss civil rights on walks around the neighborhood. Du Bois’ house was designated as a Baltimore Landmark by the City Council in 2008.
W.E.B. Du Bois was arguably the most important Black scholar, author, and activist of the first half of the 20th century. He was born in 1868, just three years after the end of the Civil War, in Great Barrington, Massachusetts, the son of a working class Haitian father and a Black American mother. The first Black graduate of his high school, Du Bois received his first undergraduate degree from Fisk University. He completed his studies at Harvard University, where he became the first Black student to earn a PhD. He then taught at several universities including Wilberforce University and the University of Pennsylvania. In 1899 he published a groundbreaking study of African Americans in Philadelphia, The Philadelphia Negro: A Social Study. During his tenure at Atlanta University, his young son died after Du Bois spent the night looking for one of the three Black doctors, as no white doctor in the city would treat the sick child.
In 1903 he published The Souls of Black Folk, a pioneering work in sociology and African-American literature. The same year, Du Bois wrote his influential essay, "The Talented Tenth," in which he argued for the development of a small group of educated Black people, as well as agitation and protest, as the path to racial equality. In 1905 he helped organize the Niagara Movement, a civil rights group that demanded political and social equality for Black Americans, and was a forerunner of the NAACP. The group split in 1908, partially due to disagreements about accepting women members, which Du Bois supported. In 1909 he retired from teaching to co-found the NAACP, and edit its magazine, The Crisis. Du Bois was active in the NAACP until 1948 when he left over ideological differences.
Du Bois lived in the two-story white shingle home with a detached garage from 1939 until the death of his first wife, Nina, in 1950. They moved to Baltimore to be closer to their daughter, Yolande, a city school teacher. While living in Baltimore, Du Bois wrote Dusk of Dawn (1940), Color and Democracy (1945), and The World and Africa (1947). During this period Dr. Du Bois also maintained a home in New York City.
Du Bois continued his political activism through the Pan-African, anti-colonial, and peace movements. Although not a member of the Communist Party at the time, he had socialist ideals, and worked with organizations and individuals connected to it. This resulted in punitive measures by the U.S. Departments of Justice and State, which revoked his passport from 1952 until 1958. Increasingly disillusioned with the United States, he moved to Ghana to work on the . He officially joined the Communist Party in 1961. Du Bois died in 1963, at the age of 95, in Ghana. His daughter, Yolande Du Bois Williams taught in Baltimore City Public Schools, including Paul Laurence Dunbar and Booker T. Washington High Schools, for forty years. When she died in 1961, her funeral was held at Morgan Christian Center at Morgan College, just blocks away from her parents’ former home on Montebello Terrace.
The research and writing of this article was funded by two grants: one from the Maryland Heritage Areas Authority and one from the Baltimore National Heritage Area.
Two Art Deco columns, flanking the entrance of the 25th Street Safeway parking lot, serve as the only concrete evidence of the central decision-making site during Baltimore’s era of school desegregation. From 1931 to 1987, a complex of two skywalk-linked buildings at 3 and 33 E 25th Street served as BCPSS headquarters: a 1931 Art Deco administration building, and a repurposed brick schoolhouse dating to the 1890s.
When the headquarters moved to North Avenue in 1987, the 25th Street complex began to deteriorate, quickly becoming a blight on the Old Goucher neighborhood. Some saw potential for redevelopment, and proposals for a bookstore and small business incubator emerged. A plan to renovate the complex as senior apartments, called “Lovegrove Court,” gained the most traction. This was on track until the spring of 1994, when Safeway proposed building a store on the block, putting six adjacent rowhouses, the neighboring Chesapeake Cadillac Company showroom, and the 25th Street school complex under threat of demolition. Some people—including rowhouse owners, the developers of Lovegrove Court, and a local group that had long planned to open a supermarket just blocks away—were not thrilled by what they saw as sneaky dealings between Safeway and the city.
Advocates for historical preservation including Donna Beth Joy Shapiro, vice president of 91Ƶ at the time, attempted to save the historical buildings, or at least their facades. However, Old Goucher’s legitimate need for a full-service supermarket won out, the buildings were demolished, and the two Art Deco columns were the only elements preserved from the 25th Street school complex. The Safeway was completed in 1997.
These two preserved columns from “25th Street,” as the school administration complex was commonly referred to, give us a chance to re-examine some defining themes of Baltimore’s fraught era of school desegregation. In 1954, Thurgood Marshall successfully argued Brown v. Board of Education in the US Supreme Court, outlawing racially segregated public schools. Shortly after, Baltimore’s school board, convening at 25th Street, instituted a “free choice” enrollment policy, lifting all formal racial barriers to school choice but making no effort to actively integrate. As a result of this unusual policy, which had widespread support from both Black and white people, Baltimore did not initially experience the unrest that marked the school desegregation processes of other cities.
By the late ‘60s Baltimore’s schools were still heavily segregated, and the federal government demanded that a robust integration plan be drafted and implemented. Dr. Roland N. Patterson, Baltimore’s first Black permanent superintendent, was hired in 1971 to take on this monumental task using tactics like districting and busing. Baltimore, accustomed to free choice and racially polarized after the ‘68 riots, was fully unprepared for such a challenge.
Patterson tried to preserve as much free choice as possible, but the integration measures he did institute were met with furious opposition. In May of 1974, students from the historically white Patterson High picketed 25th St, demanding that no changes be made to their school. When a plan was implemented for the 1975-76 school year, redistributing students all across the city in accordance with federal standards, students quickly transferred away from their assigned schools in droves and fed-up parents dropped their kids off at whichever school they preferred. Patterson, his support swiftly declining, was ousted in 1975 by a coalition of school board members led by Mayor William Donald Schaefer.
In 1987, the same year the headquarters moved from 25th Street to North Avenue, the federal government informed BCPSS that no evidence of the de jure segregation system could be found in schools—the system’s existing segregation was a result of demographics rather than policy.
Tiny Bedford Square in Guilford, at the intersection of St. Paul and North Charles streets, hosts a life size bronze bust of Simón Bolivar. Also referred to as the “George Washington of South America,” the Venezuelan-born Bolivar was the military and political leader of the revolutions against Spanish colonial rule across the continent in the early 19th century. The bust sits on a limestone pedestal, with the words “Simón Bolivar, 1783-1830, Liberator of Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia” carved on the front. On the back it reads, “Presented to the Citizens of Baltimore by the Government of Venezuela, April 19, 1961.”
Guilford is a neighborhood known for its large houses and tree lined, curving streets, not for its political monuments. Built by the Roland Park Company, the houses are stone and brick in Neoclassical and Colonial Revival styles. The noted American landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted, Jr. designed its streets and parks. It opened in 1913, and, like the nearby neighborhoods of Roland Park and Homeland, included a racial covenant preventing African Americans from owning homes within its borders, which was overturned in 1948.
The Bolivar bust was created by the Austrian-American sculptor Felix de Weldon. He is best known for his work on the Marine Corps War Memorial in Arlington, Virginia, which shows soldiers raising the American flag at Iwo Jima in 1945. Throughout the 20th century Venezuela gave statues and busts of Bolivar to a number of American cities, including New York, Washington D.C., New Orleans, Bolivar (West Virginia), and Bolivar (Missouri).
In April 1959 President Dwight D. Eisenhower spoke at the reception of a bronze equestrian statue of Bolivar in Washington D.C., making reference to the recent democratic election of President Rómulo Betancourt after over a decade of military dictatorship. He declared, “The Venezuelan people have steadfastly maintained their faith in the ultimate realization of Bolivar’s democratic ideals. It is therefore fitting that this ceremony should follow closely upon the inauguration of President Betancourt, chosen by his countrymen in an election so conducted as to typify the true meaning of democracy.”
The symbolic value of these gifts held extra resonance during the Cold War. The United States was concerned with suppressing communist movements in Latin America, especially after the 1959 Cuban revolution established the first communist state in the region. Oil companies were anxious for influence and continued access to oil rich Latin American nations like Venezuela. By 1961 relations between the United States and Latin America were at a low point and discontent, inequality, and violence was growing. In response, the newly inaugurated President John F. Kennedy proposed the “Alliance for Progress,” a ten-year, multibillion-dollar aid program for the region.
A few months after the proposal, and just two days after the failed Bay of Pigs invasion in Cuba, a small ceremony took place in Bedford Square to unveil this bust. Baltimore Mayor J. Harold Grady accepted the gift from the Venezuelan ambassador on a windy and rainy April 19th, Venezuelan Independence Day. Dr. Frank Marino, president of the Park Board (the predecessor to The Department of Parks and Recreation) seemed to reference the tensions with Cuba at the time, saying “It is very appropriate that the Ambassador’s remarks should come at this time in our history.” Chosen because it had space for the statue, for a few minutes in 1961 little Bedford Park in Baltimore reflected the drama of the greatest geopolitical forces of the time.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
Barnum’s City Hotel, located where the Clarence M. Mitchell, Jr. Courthouse stands today, was a common meeting place for all manner of transactions, such as buying, selling, or trading of products. It was common to see advertisements for the sale or purchase of enslaved people in which interested parties could meet at a specific hotel or tavern. Barnum’s was a common meeting place. Also, Lewis F. Scott, one of the most prolific dealers in human flesh, operated his General Slave Agency* from the basement level of the hotel for a period in the 1840s.There was also a sale that took place at the City Hotel that resulted in freedom for the person being purchased. The following is from the Baltimore Sunpaper, February 28, 1855. Arthur Burns, the fugitive slave whose trial excited so much attention in Massachusetts about six months ago, was yesterday in this city, and took the cars last evening for Philadelphia, with the intention of proceeding North as far as Massachusetts. It appears that his master did not wish to part with him, but finally agreed to do so, whereupon he was purchased by Mr. McDaniel for $900. The gentleman yesterday reached here, and effected a sale of Burns to Rev. Lloyd A. Grimes, of Massachusetts, for the sum of $1,325. The transaction took place at Barnum’s Hotel, and was evidenced by Colonel Houston, one of the clerks. Burns excited by considerable attention during the few hours he was here. Upon his arrival North a grand demonstration will be made. * See also entry on General Intelligence Office.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
Bernard Moore Campbell and his brother Lewis operated a slave pen at this location, 26 Conway Street, from 1844 to 1848. Like most successful traders of enslaved people at the time, the Campbells relied on agents working the region to supply them with “inventory.” One of them, John G. Campbell, worked the area around Port Tobacco in Southern Maryland, where he specialized in acquiring “slaves for life,” which would be more appealing to buyers in the New Orleans market. The brothers’ business at this location on Conway Street was modest, but when they purchased the more infamous Slatter jail at Howard and Pratt Streets, the numbers of people they shipped south increased dramatically.
Though the pen is long gone, at least one building dating from this era still stands a block away, Old Otterbein Church. One can only imagine what the congregants thought of this neighbor.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
Centre Market, aka Marsh Market, was the thriving heart of early Baltimore commerce, primarily due to its proximity to the docks and the cargo arriving regularly. Vendors filled the space along Market Place from Baltimore Street to Pratt Street at the harbor’s edge, offering everything from produce to livestock. Separate areas were devoted to particular products. For example, the area where Port Discovery is today was the fish market. Just north of that was where horses were sold. This horse market area was also where enslaved people were sold. Auctioneers would often hold court ordered sales here of people who may have been designated as unclaimed runaway slaves.
Due to the large number of shoppers attracted to the market, many other businesses grew up nearby, such as taverns and inns. There were also several estate auctioneers who operated nearby. Just like today, estate auctions included everything from furniture to linens. Prior to the Civil War, however, these auctions often included the sale of people. As the demand for enslaved labor increased in the 19th century, several slave traders also operated in the area west of this market area. They would meet at the nearby hotels and taverns, such as Garland Burnett’s Tavern, Mrs. Green’s Tavern (Sign of the Green Tree), and Sinners’s Hotel on Water Street. Eventually, a few slave jails were operated in the area by James Purvis and John Denning.
A major reconstruction of the market took place in 1851, which included a large, two-story building that took up an entire city block built over the market area. It was initially known as Maryland Institute Hall because it housed the Maryland Institute for the Promotion of the Mechanic Arts, which is now known as Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA). The second floor housed the school classrooms, offices, and classrooms, as well as an assembly hall large enough to accommodate crowds attending two presidential nominating conventions and a speech by Abraham Lincoln. This entire area was destroyed by the Great Baltimore Fire in 1904.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
This was one of two locations where John N. Denning operated as a slave trader. He was here at 104 N. Exeter Street in the early 1840s. (Street numbers were changed in 1887, making this 264 N. Exeter today.) He later moved in 1849 to a pen at 18 S. Frederick Street, which he noted was the house "with trees in front." He always made a point in his ads that he was ready to pay "cash for Negroes," often repeating the declaration in each ad.
Just outside the limits of Baltimore City, on a piece of land jutting out into the Patapsco River, Maryland’s first steel plants were built. In 1887, the Maryland Steel Company purchased an area of agricultural marshland called Sparrows Point. Four years later in 1891, the steel mill opened and made the first steel ever produced in Maryland. While the mill manufactured steel for many different purposes, its main focus was on making steel for shipbuilding. One of the most important ships ever built at the Sparrows Point shipyard was the SS Ancon. The Ancon, built between 1901 and 1902, was one of “two of the first cargo steamers of a large size ever constructed in this country,” according to the January 1902 edition of Marine Engineering. It was also the first ship to officially pass through the Panama Canal in 1914, which was a massive turning point in world trade.
In 1916, Bethlehem Steel bought the steel plant. During Bethlehem Steel’s ownership, Sparrows Point would become a pivotal steel manufacturer. In the 1930s and ‘50s, the plant produced steel beams used in the Empire State Building, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. During World War II, Bethlehem Steel plants produced about one fifth of the entire Navy at the time. Sparrows Point, along with the nearby Bethlehem-Fairfield Shipyard, helped build “Liberty” cargo ships for the United States’s Emergency Shipbuilding program during the war. The Sparrows Point and Bethlehem-Fairfield Shipyards built two of the first 14 Liberty ships ever launched. At its height in the 1950s, the complex at Sparrows Point was the largest steel plant in the world and employed 33,000 workers.
The plant also had a lot of influence in the history of civil and workers’ rights in Baltimore. In 1890, 84 Hungarian and African American workers at the mill unsuccessfully went on strike due to poor work conditions. For years, workers at the plant called for unionization and better treatment. Eventually, Bethlehem Steel set up the Employee Representation Plan (ERP) at Sparrows Point. However, the ERP did not actually help the workers much, and acted more as a way to stop them from forming labor organizations. This struggle continued until 1941, when Bethlehem Steel allowed its workers to form their own union. Even with unionization, they continued to face workers’ issues until the steel plant closed down in 2012.
Alongside the problems with labor rights, African American workers also encountered racism at Sparrows Point. While the plants were not segregated, the workers and their families were placed in totally separate communities based on their race. African American housing was often of lower quality than the white housing. One exception to this was the thriving African American enclave of Turner Station. Among the most notable people who lived in Turner Station was , whose cancer cells were the source of the first immortal human cell line. Lacks moved to Turner Station in 1941 so that her husband, Day Lacks, could work at Sparrows Point. In 1941, Executive Order 8802 was passed, banning racial discrimination in defense industries, which included Sparrows Point. Later on, the Consent Decree in 1974 was signed. This helped to ensure equal pay and opportunity for the plant’s non-white workers. In 2001, after a long period of financial downfall, Bethlehem Steel declared bankruptcy. After this, Sparrows Point would be owned by four different steel companies before it was liquidated in 2012.
Today, the area is still a large industrial hub, hosting distribution centers for companies like Under Armour and Amazon. However, most of what remained of the huge steel plant has been demolished. Though its importance in American history is often overlooked, the people who worked and lived near the plant still carry on its monumental memory.
The first African American owned company to be listed on the New York Stock Exchange, Parks Sausage Company, was headquartered in Baltimore, Maryland. Parks Sausage was successful because of its founder, Henry Parks. Parks started the company in 1951 with only two employees. Under his supervision, the company grew into a multimillion dollar business with almost 300 employees. Parks trained black and white workers. In his factory, he helped advance racial integration in the workplace.
As an African American businessman, Parks knew he would be under increased scrutiny. Inside his factory, Parks kept close watch over the sausage recipe that he had created. In an interview with the Baltimore Sun in 1971, it was reported that Parks would “taste his sausage mixture everyday himself and [could] tell if the mixture is off by a tiny fraction.” In wanting to create and maintain a quality product, Parks introduced sell-by dates to his meat products. In addition, he invited federal inspectors to tour his plant at a time when only state inspectors were required. He did this for two reasons. First, to show how good his products were. Second, to show the community-at-large that African American owned businesses could maintain the same strict standards as white businesses.
Baltimoreans didn’t just love Parks Sausage, they loved Henry Parks. In 1963, city residents showed their love for Parks by electing him to the Baltimore City Council for two consecutive terms. During his time on the council, Parks pushed for laws that opened public accommodations to African Americans. He also worked to help ease bail requirements. In 1969, Parks became the first African-American to serve on the Board of Trustees for Goucher College. By this time, Parks was already a lifetime member of the NAACP.
On a local and national level, Henry Parks was recognized for his role as a pioneering African American entrepreneur and civil rights advocate. In 1982, Parks was given the honor of being designated a Distinguished American by the United States Congress.
Today, employees at the Parks Sausage Plant, now re-named the Dietz & Watson Plant, no longer make Parks sausage. But that does not mean that Henry Park’s impact as a pioneer in the sausage industry has been forgotten. Everyday, as employees enter and exit work they drive along Henry Parks Jr. Drive and are reminded of Baltimore's original sausage king.
In the middle of East Lexington Street stands a building that sticks out from the rest. Carved into its brick wall is the face of a horned figure looking out over the street. Today, this building houses Fred W. Frank Bail Bonds, but it was once the meeting hall for a chapter of the Grand United Order of Odd Fellows.
The Odd Fellows is a male only, non-religious organization that originated in early 1700s London. The fraternity was formed on the basis of social equality, limiting the power of the Catholic Church over the British government, and advocating for civil liberties. In 1819, Thomas Wildey founded the first Odd Fellows organization in America, the Independent Order of Odd Fellows (IOOF), in Baltimore. However, the group refused to accept any black men who wished to become members or even form separate all-black lodges as part of the IOOF. African American men interested in Odd Fellowship, led by Peter Ogden, instead partnered with the English Grand United Order of Odd Fellows (GUOOF).
The first GUOOF lodge in America was established for the Philomathean Lodge, No. 646 in New York City. Over the following years, the GUOOF became one of the most important all-black mutual aid societies in America. It helped provide its members, and the public in general, with social inclusion and financial aid to cover “the costs of burial, sickness, disability, and widowhood.” Along with this, it was also heavily involved in the early civil rights efforts, especially in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Another notable aspect of the GUOOF is their inclusion of women, which is not seen in many similar fraternities. In 1858, the organization founded the Household of Ruth. This was designed to allow women to be involved in the Order’s practices and public service. Because of the Household of Ruth, both the membership and the public service capabilities of the Order increased.
Relatively little is known about the activities of the Grand Order of Odd Fellows lodge on 214 East Lexington Street. What is known is that, based on the Sanborn Maps of Baltimore, the hall was founded sometime before 1890. There is also mention of them in several articles from the early 1900s by the newspaper The Baltimore Afro-American about the meeting hall and its activities. Among the most important Baltimorean Odd Fellows from the lodge were John H. Murphy Sr., founder of The Baltimore Afro-American; Harry S. Cummings, a lawyer and Baltimore's first black city councilman; and Dr. Edward J. Wheatley, one of the city’s most prominent physicians at the time. However, by 1929 (and possibly earlier) the local GUOOF chose to move their meeting place elsewhere. Today, the only two active Grand United Order of Odd Fellows lodges in Maryland are Union Friendship Lodge #891 in Temple Hill, which is the oldest active GUOOF lodge in America, and Sandy Spring Lodge #6430. These lodges serve as meeting places for multicultural education, discussion, and understanding within their communities.
The research and writing of this article was funded by two grants: one from the Maryland Heritage Areas Authority and one from the Baltimore National Heritage Area.
Although the famed African American lawyer and civil rights advocate George McMechen is remembered fondly for his service to the community, he is best remembered for living on McCulloh Street. In June 1910, McMechen and his family moved to 1834 McCulloh Street and the local white community reacted with outrage. The first night McMechen and his family stayed at the house on McCulloh Street, white Baltimoreans vandalized it. In the middle of the night, someone broke all the windows and flung a brick through the third-story skylight. In late 1910, white-owned newspapers reported that the vandalism occurred as a direct result of McMechen family choosing to live on McCulloh Street.
In response to the McMechen family, and several other African American families moving to McCulloh Street, the city responded with a segregation ordinance. The ordinance declared: “No negro may take up his residence in a block within the city limits of Baltimore wherein more than half the residents are white.”
McMechen said of the ordinance, “It is my opinion as a lawyer that it is clearly unconstitutional, unjust, and discriminating against the negro, although on its face it appears to be equally fair to white and black….our people feel very deeply the action taken, and there is no doubt but that this feeling will shortly crystallize into a movement against the ordinance which will result in legal proceedings to have it declared void as it certainly is.”
McMechen, and another lawyer named Ashbie Hawkins (McMechen’s sister’s husband and legal counsel for the Baltimore NAACP), led the crusade in the courts against the ordinance. In the meantime, McMechen was forced out of his house on McCulloh St.
In 1911, Hawkins and another lawyer, Warner T. McGuinn, successfully argued that the West Ordinance was unconstitutional and it was repealed. A pattern then emerged where the Mayor and City Council would tweak the ordinance and re-establish it. McMechen, Hawkins and McGuinn would then successfully argue it was unconstitutional and the ordinance would be repealed. Another segregation ordinance would then be created.
It wouldn’t be until a Supreme Court case coming out of Kentucky that the Baltimore segregation ordinances would be overturned permanently. After 1910, the West Ordinance, often called the “Baltimore idea,” for promoting residential segregation proved so attractive for White Americans that it was copied in a score of other southern and border cities, including Richmond, St. Louis, and Louisville, Kentucky.
It was from Louisville that the case testing the constitutionality of segregation ordinances came to the U.S. Supreme Court in 1916. It was called Warley v. Buchanan. Buchanan was a White individual who sold a house to Warley, a Black individual. Since 8 of 10 houses were occupied by White people, Warley was not allowed to live on the block. Buchanan sued Warley in Jefferson County Circuit Court to complete the sale. Warley cited the city ordinance as the reason for non-completion of the sale.
Baltimore’s own Ashbie Hawkins filed an amicus brief on behalf of the Baltimore Branch of the NAACP and appeared before the Supreme Court for this case. After hearing and rehearing the Court made fast work of it. The Court ruled that the motive for the Louisville ordinance—separation of races for purported reasons—was an inappropriate exercise of police power, and its insufficient purpose also made it unconstitutional.
Buchanan v. Warley is one of the most significant civil rights cases decided before the modern civil rights era. After the Supreme Court case, Maryland courts found the Baltimore segregation ordinances unconstitutional as well.
Hawkins continued to work with George McMechen until he died in 1941. McMechen continued to practice law until his death on February 22, 1961. They made an undeniable impact on our country’s legal system.
As an influential figure in Baltimore’s African American community, George McMechen served in many important appointed positions throughout his life. He served as a trustee of Morgan College from 1921 to 1939. He was also the first African American member appointed to the Board of School Commissioners. Lastly, he was the first Baltimorean elected Grand Exalted Ruler (National President) of the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks of the World. In 1972, Morgan State erected its School of Business and named it in McMechen’s honor.
The research and writing of this article was funded by two grants: one from the Maryland Heritage Areas Authority and one from the Baltimore National Heritage Area.
Before the corner of N Charles and W Eager was a CVS, it was a Baltimore institution: Club Hippo. For more than 35 years, Club Hippo was a refuge for Baltimore’s queer community. The dance venue was always a place where, as the club's motto read, “everybody is welcome.” The space gave people the ability to express themselves freely without fear. The Hippo’s owner during this time was Charles “Chuck” Bowers. Bowers purchased the club in 1978 from its original owners, Kenny Elbert and Don Endbinder. In 1972 Elbert and Endbinder had turned the space into a gay-friendly nightclub. But Bowers was the one responsible for turning the club into a cornerstone of Baltimore’s queer community and the Mount Vernon business district. For instance, Baltimore City’s annual Pride Block Party, with few exceptions, took place at the intersection of Charles and Eager street, anchored by the Hippo. During the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s, Bowers was an outspoken advocate for gay men who contracted the disease. The Hippo at this time also hosted performances by Broadway stars. The Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS organization sponsored the performances to spread awareness and raise money to fight the deadly disease. Bowers also helped to raise money for local charities fighting the AIDS epidemic including Baltimore’s Movable Feast and Light Health and Wellness by putting on fundraisers at the Hippo. Baltimore’s Movable Feast is an organization that provides meals to people with chronic and life threatening illnesses, including AIDS. In 1997, cast members of the Broadway touring company of “Cats” treated the guests of the Hippo to a special performance in order to raise money for Baltimore’s Movable Feast. Light Health and Wellness is a nonprofit that helps Baltimore youth and families who are affected by HIV/AIDS. The Hippo served an important role as a place for members of the community to come together to support each other in both good times and bad times. Although the club permanently closed in October 2015, those that danced there cherish fond memories of the Baltimore institution. Erik J. Akelaitis, who attended the final dance at Club Hippo said: "Although I had a blast dancing and reminiscing with friends one last time, it was sad to see a long-standing Baltimore institution, landmark, and vital part of Baltimore’s LGBT history come to an end. The dance floor was packed one last time with a playlist of songs they had played over the years. It felt like old times, and the way things should be… where everyone is welcome!"
The research and writing of this article was funded by two grants: one from the Maryland Heritage Areas Authority and one from the Baltimore National Heritage Area.
On Beechwood Drive, leading up to the Rawlings Conservatory in Druid Hill Park stands a small historical marker. Erected in 1992, it sits where the main clay tennis courts in Druid Hill Park once stood. It was at these courts that one of the earliest Civil Rights protests in America took place: a tennis match. On Sunday, July 11th, 1948, a group of black and white tennis players gathered at two of the “whites only” clay courts to play. The game was organized by the civil rights activist group the Young Progressives of Maryland. At the time, African American tennis players had to go to separate courts in the park to play tennis. These courts were crumbling and in much worse condition than the “whites only” ones. However, this ban on interracial tennis matches was not written in any law. Instead, it was an informal city policy enforced by the police. Because of this, the Young Progressives saw the courts as a good target for a protest. The Young Progressives had already held multiple interracial matches at the clay courts protesting segregation. However, these matches were often on Sundays during church services, so few people noticed them. For the July 11th match, the Young Progressives wanted to draw a larger crowd. They posted a flier reading “KILL JIM CROW! DEMAND YOUR RIGHTS! Organize to smash discrimination in recreational facilities.” They also sent a letter to the superintendent of the Bureau of Recreation telling him their plan to hold an interracial tennis match at the park. Their attempts at drawing a crowd on July 11th were more than successful. Hundreds of people had come to the clay tennis courts to support the Young Progressives. The Park Police were also at the courts waiting for the players to start. The players included four men and four women, with two African Americans and two whites in each group. The men were the first to try and start a game. However, as soon as they went to serve the ball, they were immediately told to leave or be arrested. The players refused to leave, and sat down on the courts. The police had to carry them off the court in order to arrest them. The women then attempted to play, but they too were arrested. Along with the players, many people in the crowd and later outside the Northern Police Station were also arrested for disorderly conduct. In total, 22 people were arrested in relation to the protest. Those who were arrested were accused of violating park rules, disturbing the peace, and/or conspiracy to unlawfully assemble. Only 7 people charged with disturbing the peace served out a jail sentence. All of the other charges were dropped because what the protesters had done was not actually illegal. This case was an important first step in Maryland’s long Civil Rights movement. It was the first time in Maryland history that both Blacks and Whites protestors appeared in court together claiming that Jim Crow laws violated their rights. Today, the tennis courts are still a regularly visited spot in Druid Hill Park. However, the courts that were in use when the Young Progressives played their match in 1948 were removed in 1989. All that stands as a reminder of the old clay courts is the historical sign near the Rawlings Conservatory. The sign, entitled “Playing for Civil Rights,” is specifically dedicated to the events of June 11th, 1948, including a short explanation of the protest and why it happened. This is meant to ensure that the courage shown by the activists on that day will never be forgotten. The research and writing of this article was funded by two grants: one from the Maryland Heritage Areas Authority and one from the Baltimore National Heritage Area.
There are very few people who have made an impact on American popular culture like Tupac Shakur. His music served to inspire a generation of musicians--music that was inevitably shaped by his time in Baltimore. Although Shakur did not grow up in Baltimore, the years he spent here marked an important point in his life where he began to transition from a child to an adult. At 14, Shakur and his family moved to Baltimore from the Bronx. The family made their home in the North Baltimore neighborhood of Pen Lucy. They lived in a small first-floor apartment in a traditional brick row house on Greenmount Ave. In Baltimore, Shakur had the opportunity to share his talent with the community. In November 1985, the Enoch Pratt Free Library sponsored a rap contest and encouraged participants to rap about the library to be eligible for a cash prize. Shakur, alongside his friend Dana Smith, created the winning song, “Library Rap.” Eventually, Shakur teamed up with several more friends to form a new group, Born Busy. With Born Busy, Shakur made his very first rap recordings. In Charm City, Shakur took his very first steps into rap. At this time, he had no idea he would become a visionary leader of the budding genre. For eighth grade, Shakur attended Roland Park Middle School. For high school, Shakur was originally enrolled at Dunbar High School. However, he soon transferred to the Baltimore School for the Arts, where his talent as a performer had a place to shine as a theater major. At school, Shakur practiced his rapping skills. In the days before social networking, Shakur would write raps and share them with his classmates for feedback. Friends and teachers recognized his star potential. Richard Pilcher, who taught at the School for the Arts noted, “You didn’t forget Tupac. There’s no two ways about it, he had charisma for days.” Although Tupac Shakur will always be remembered as a West Coast rapper, his short time in Baltimore was crucial to his musical and stylistic development. In an interview Shakur said of his time in Baltimore, “Man, I would have been a totally different person had I not been exposed to these things.” In the summer of 1988, Shakur and his family left Baltimore behind for another fresh start. Shakur would go on to become one of the top fifty best selling musical artists of all time. Sadly, Tupac passed away in 1996 after being shot in a drive by shooting. In 2002, Shakur was post-humanosly inducted into the Hip-Hop Hall of Fame.
with research support from The research and writing of this article was funded by two grants: one from the Maryland Heritage Areas Authority and one from the Baltimore National Heritage Area.
Amidst the grand old houses, some vacant and in disrepair, and important civil rights historic sites in Historic Marble Hill in West Baltimore sits the Henry Highland Garnet Neighborhood Park. It is a leafy green space, with flowers, trees, giant urns, winding paths, and park benches. Plaques to a variety of local leaders are spread throughout. The park, in the Baltimore National Heritage Area, is named for militant abolitionist and minister, Henry Highland Garnet. Garnet was born into slavery on Maryland’s Eastern Shore in 1815. He and his family escaped via the Underground Railroad to New York City when he was 9 years old. Although they escaped to a northern state, slave catchers threatened his family. Garnet spent time working on ships and attended several schools established by abolitionists. He became a Presbyterian minister. In 1840 he helped found the . He was known for his captivating and radical speeches encouraging armed uprisings among the enslaved. During the Civil War he helped recruit Black soldiers for the Union Army, and narrowly escaped a white mob during the . On February 12, 1865 he was the first African American to address the United States House of Representatives, encouraging them to adopt the 13th Amendment with a sermon entitled “.” After the end of the war, he continued to work against slavery in Cuba and Brazil. Although he had first been critical of Liberia, a colony in Africa for Black Americans, toward the end of his life he supported Black emigration. In December 1881 President James Garfield appointed him Ambassador to Liberia, and he died there a few months later on February 13, 1882. The large historical marker at one of the entrances to the park quotes Garnet’s “” also known as the “Call to Rebellion,” which he gave to the National Negro Convention in 1843:
Brethren, arise, arise! Strike for your lives and liberties. Now is the day and the hour. Let every slave throughout the land do this, and the days of slavery are numbered. You cannot be more oppressed than you have been—you cannot suffer greater cruelties than you have already. Rather die free men than live to be slaves. Remember that you are four million!In the audience was fellow former Marylander, Frederick Douglass. The address was considered too radical to distribute,but other abolitionists, including John Brown, funded its publication. In 1969, the Henry Highland Garnet Council, which was made up of 36 block organizations, established the park on the site of a former school. Robert Harding, a MICA professor, designed the park and Lena Boone, president of the Council, coordinated the work. The Neighborhood Improvement Program (a federally funded program of the Department of Labor) provided the labor for the creation of the park. The Baltimore City Department of Public Works furnished the walkways and plumbing for the fountain and the Department of Recreation and Parks provided $15,000 for materials. The construction company, Potts and Callahan (still operating today) donated fill dirt for the landscaping. Over the decades the park fell into disrepair. In 2016 the park was renovated by the Marble Hill Community Association. Since 2018 it has been maintained by Friends of Henry Highland Garnet Park. In 2021 volunteers planted a rose walk and installed a bronze plaque (sponsored by the Baltimore National Heritage Area and Union Baptist Church) to honor Juanita Jackson Mitchell and Clarence M. Mitchell, Jr. The Mitchells were important civil rights activists who lived and worked in the neighborhood, and who had entertained Jackie Robinson, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Lady Bird Johnson in their rose garden. A community composting program currently provides fertilizer for the gardens, continuing the tradition of neighborhood care for, and pride in, the park.
The white two-story house at 2702 Elsinore Ave was once the home of Violet Hill Whyte, the first African-American police officer in the Baltimore City Police Force. It was through her service as an officer and a social worker that Whyte became a beloved and well-respected pillar of her community. Violet Whyte (born Violet Hill) was born in Washington, D.C. on November 18th, 1897 and moved to Baltimore as a young girl. After graduating from Douglass High School and Coppin State College, Hill became a public school teacher. She taught grammar for 6 years until she got married and had children with George Sumner Whyte, who was the principal of Public School No. 111 at the time. In the following years, Violet Whyte became a prominent social worker in her community. She became a member of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union (WCTU) in 1931 and continued to serve in many different roles with the WCTU until 1976. Before becoming an officer, she was also a member of the Civic League advisory board and the Negro State Republican League, the executive secretary of the Parent-Teacher Federation, and president of the Intercity Child Study Association. On December 3, 1937, Whyte was appointed an officer of the Baltimore Northwestern District Police Force. At the time, the Baltimore Police Department had never allowed an African American to become a police officer. However, on June 1st, 1937, William P. Lawson replaced Charles D. Gaither as Baltimore Police Commissioner. In his first six months, Lawson decided to end the BPD’s policy of barring African Americans from becoming police officers. The station where Whyte was assigned to work served one of the largest police districts in Baltimore. Two days after her appointment, she arrested murder suspect Violet Key. The next day, over 100 Baltimoreans crowded into the station to celebrate her induction as an officer. The crowd showered her with floral arrangements and congratulations as she formally accepted her post.
Whyte worked incredibly hard. She handled homicide, abuse, assault, narcotics and robbery cases. Once, she went undercover in order to arrest the members of a narcotics gang. She even worked up to 20 hours on some days. She handed out food and gifts during holidays, and inspired local children to stop skipping school. This dedication to helping the community through both law enforcement and charity led her to be described as a “one-woman-police-force and a one-woman-social-worker combined.” In 1965, she was promoted to sergeant. Two years later in October 1967, she was promoted again to the rank of Lieutenant, a first for both African Americans and women in the BPD. Finally, on December 3rd, 1967, Whyte retired from the police force 30 years to the day after she was appointed. She never missed a day of work. Even after retiring, she volunteered at the Western District Station to organize charity events. She also continued to be involved in many other community and charity organizations. On July 17th, 1980, after a lifetime of service, Violet Hill Whyte passed away at the age of 82. A historical sign at the corner of N Payson St and W Franklin St honors the massive impact Whyte had on the city of Baltimore. Violet Hill Whyte Way near the University of Maryland, Baltimore campus was also named after her.
From the humblest of beginnings, John H. Murphy Sr. rose to become the founder of the Baltimore Afro-American newspaper, which had an office here at 1336 N Carey St in the 1910’s. Murphy was born enslaved in Baltimore on Christmas Day, 1840. He was the son of Benjamin Murphy III, a whitewasher, and Susan Coby Murphy. Not much is known about his youth. In March, 1864 Murphy joined the 30th Regiment Infantry of the U.S. Colored Troops, Maryland Volunteers. In the army, he rose to the rank of first sergeant. Murphy fought in General Grant’s Wilderness campaign. Later, he was with General Sherman in North Carolina when the Union Army captured Confederate General Johnston’s troops. Murphy later wrote of the war:
I went in a slave and came out a freedman. I went in a chattel and came out with the blue uniform of my country as a guarantee of freedom, and a sergeant’s stripes on my arms to prove that there is a promotion for those who can earn it. After the war, Murphy returned to Baltimore a free man. Soon after he married Martha Elizabeth Howard in 1868. He went on to work for the Sunday school at the Bethel African Methodist Episcopal (A.M.E.) Church in Baltimore. In the late 1880s, Murphy became the superintendent of the District Sunday School and moved to Hagerstown, Maryland. As superintendent he began to publish a Sunday school newspaper called Sunday School Helper to realize his dream of uniting all Maryland A.M.E Sunday schools. In 1892, Reverend William M. Alexander started a rival paper, the Afro-American, to promote his church, the Sharon Baptist Church. In 1897, Murphy purchased the Afro-American for $200 and merged it with the Sunday School Helper to create one paper. In its early years, unpaid family members staffed the paper. The popularity of the publication gave Murphy the opportunity to expand the paper’s paid employees to nearly 100 workers by the 1920s. He was also able to expand into multiple offices, including the Uptown office located at 1336 N Carey Street. By 1922, the Afro-American had grown large enough to become the biggest African American-owned newspaper on the East Coast and the third largest in the nation. Within its pages Murphy was an outspoken advocate for justice and exposing racism in areas such as housing, education, jobs, and public accommodations. In 1913, he was elected president of the National Negro Press Association. He also served as the president of the National Negro Publishers Association. Until his death in 1922, Murphy used the paper as a platform to advocate for the African American community. At the time of his death, Murphy Sr left to his five sons what was then the largest black newspaper plant in the nation, operated and manned by 138 employees, with a circulation of 14,000 subscriptions. Out of all the brothers, Carl J. Murphy was selected to serve as chairman and publisher of the Afro-American. For 45 years, Carl Murphy worked tirelessly to grow the publication from a local weekly newspaper to a national daily chain. Under Carl Murphy the paper reached a peak weekly circulation of 235,000 newspapers in 1945.
Today, John Murphy’s family continues to uphold his legacy. The Baltimore Afro-American remains one of the oldest operating black family-owned newspapers in the United States. And although the original office was torn down, the Uptown office remains a poignant reminder of Murphy Sr.’s legacy as the first African-American newspaper magnate.The research and writing of this article was funded by two grants: one from the Maryland Heritage Areas Authority and one from the Baltimore National Heritage Area.While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
The General Wayne Inn was one of the many inns, hotels, and taverns, where enslaved workers were purchased or sold. For instance, the following ad was posted August 4, 1817. “10 or 15 Negroes Wanted. From 10 to 25 years of age, for which, if speedy application is made, the most liberal prices will be given. Apply at John Cugles, sign of General Wayne, head of Market Street, to ZACHARIAH SAMUEL.” The buyer was probably looking for people to “sell south.”
After its incorporation in the late 18th century, the population of Baltimore grew very quickly along with the expansion of the new country. One of the many “trades” that grew along with the city was the sale of people. There was a strong market in Baltimore in the early 19th century for enslaved workers, for several reasons. First, local Maryland farmers had shifted from a labor-intensive tobacco crop to the growing of cereal grains, which required less work and contributed to a surplus of slave labor in the area. Secondly, Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin in 1793, which quickly and easily separated cotton fibers from their seeds. The cotton industry then became incredibly profitable, which fueled a desire for more land and forced labor in the South. The third factor was that the importation of people for sale was outlawed in 1808, meaning enslavers could only obtain enslaved workers from within the United States. Therefore, farmers in Maryland began to sell their surplus enslaved labor to enslavers in the South and West.
This domestic slave trading, known as the Second Middle Passage, replaced the international slave trade in 1808 and became a integral to the new nation’s economy, which depended heavily on the growth of cotton. Historians estimate that about one million enslaved people were sold and moved around the country between 1808 and the abolition of slavery in 1865. About one-third of all marriages between enslaved people were broken up by these forced relocations. About one-fifth of enslaved children were separated from their parents. Needless to say, the trauma of these forced separations was devastating for the people who suffered through them.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
Built before 1782, the Indian Queen Hotel was one of the first public houses erected in Baltimore. It saw many notable guests in its day, such as Presidents Washington, Adams, Van Buren, and Jackson. Francis Scott Key also spent a night here after he had witnessed the “bombs bursting in air” over Fort McHenry. It was here that he completed the Star-Spangled Banner.
At that time, the proprietor was a notable hotelier, John Gadsby, who had operated several hotels in his lifetime in Washington, DC and Alexandria, VA. While he ran the Indian Queen, Mr. Gadsby owned 36 people who worked there as waiters. This made him the largest holder of enslaved workers in Baltimore City.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
Slave trader James Franklin Purvis, followed the custom of the day, which was to use a hotel or tavern as a business address. One of the locations he used for this purpose was Whitman's Eagle Hotel here on West Pratt Street, between Charles and Light Streets. His two other locations where he acquired and/or sold people were 2 S. Calvert Street and on Harford Avenue between Biddle and Preston Streets. He used his Harford Avenue location as his jail, where he kept the people he purchased.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
Elijah Sinners’s Tammany Hall Hotel was one of the many taverns and hotels in the area where people met to carry on a variety of business transactions. Placing advertisements in local newspapers to arrange business meetings in public houses was a common practice in the early 19th century. In addition to the business of commerce, people would also arrange meetings for social purposes. For example, Thomas Wildey began the International Order of Odd Fellows at an arranged meeting in this location.
The most notorious purpose for arranged meetings at hotels and taverns was for the sale of enslaved people. Austin Woolfolk, for instance, used this location to build up his business until he made enough money to open a slave jail at Pratt and Cove Streets (near today’s MLK Blvd.) Eventually, the slave trading firm of Franklin & Armfield sent an agent to Baltimore, Franklin’s nephew James Franklin Purvis, to start operations here in 1831. The F&A business would become the largest traders of people in the U.S., modeling Woolfolk’s techniques--a network of agents, saturation advertising, and jails/pens as a holding area. Purvis became successful enough that he, too, was able to open a jail in Baltimore at Harford & Aisquith Streets.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
Like all inns and taverns of the early 19th century, the Three Tuns Tavern was used as a meeting place for social and business transactions, not unlike coffee shops today. Austin Woolfolk used this location in his early days as a slave trader before he built up one of the largest slave trading businesses in the country.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
Baltimore was one of the nation’s largest seaports by the early 19th century. In addition to receiving raw goods from the recently opened Northwest Territory (area northwest of the Ohio River) and shipping them around the world, it was also a major hub for the transport of enslaved people. Packet boats arrived regularly from the Eastern Shore with an array of products, including enslaved people to be sold to the many local traders. The enslaved would be sold from the ships or the nearby auction houses. Yates and Harrison (located on this wharf) was one of the auction houses on and near the docks that took advantage of the proximity to ships loaded with cargo. More than 20,000 people were “sold south” from here.
For more information on the growth of the slave trade in Baltimore, see General Wayne Inn entry.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
Intelligence offices were similar to employment agencies, acting as brokers between employees and employers collecting a fee from each. They also acted as brokers for enslavers who didn’t want to handle the transactions of selling people themselves. This custom of distancing oneself from the sale of a human being became more popular as the slave trade expanded through the 19th century. The General Intelligence Office operated here at Gay and Market (now Baltimore) Streets.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
John Denning moved his operation in 1849 to a pen at this location, 18 S. Frederick Street, which he noted was the house “with trees in front.” He always made a point in his ads that he was ready to pay “cash for Negroes,” often repeating the declaration in each ad. His previous location was on Exeter Street near Fayette Street.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
Joseph S. Donovan’s first known business address was here on Light Street, south of Montgomery Street, where he probably began his slave trade before acquiring Austin Woolfolk’s slave pen in 1843. It was then that ship manifests indicate he was shipping people from Baltimore for sale in the New Orleans market.
According to a 1936 article in the Baltimore Sun, “Joseph S. Dovovan” (sic) operated a slave market here around 1840 and the 1842 Matchett's Baltimore Directory lists a “Joseph S. Donovan” at this address. Since the earliest record of him advertising “cash for negroes” or of him shipping people south wasn’t until 1843, it is unclear if his business at this address was in the slave trade.
It is conceivable, though, that he was working the slave trade earlier than the records indicate. Donovan had been managing a tavern since the 1830s, the Vauxhall Garden. As the manager, he was well aware of the business transactions of his regular customers, since one of his services was conveying messages. The business transactions taking place in taverns at this time would certainly have included trading in enslaved workers. It would not have been unusual if Donovan had been acting as agent for some of these traders.
In any case, he raised enough money to be able to purchase Woolfolk’s pen. Then, as his business grew, he relocated two more times for better access to transportation hubs, once to Camden Street near Light and, finally, to Eutaw Street at Camden.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
After several years buying and selling human beings, Joseph S. Donovan started operating a slave pen here at 13 Camden Street in 1846. He had been operating from a slave pen he purchased from Austin Woolfolk, but decided to move closer to the transportation available in the center of Baltimore. This proximity to transportation was information he started including in his advertisements to entice prospective sellers. He moved to his fourth and final location, Eutaw and Camden Streets, to take advantage of the new B&O Railroad station.
His trading accelerated in just a few years after purchasing the Woolfolk jail in 1843. While his business is not well documented earlier, it is likely he had been building it from his first base on Light Street beginning in the 1830s.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
This was the fourth and last base of operations for Joseph S. Donovan, which he opened here in 1858 at the SW corner of Eutaw and Camden Streets. It is likely he chose this location because, across Eutaw Street, the B&O Railroad had recently opened a new passenger terminal and headquarters. (Camden Station was begun in 1856 and completed in 1865.) Like his previous operation a few blocks east on Camden Street, this location was near a transportation hub, a fact he could use in his advertisements to entice buyers and sellers for the convenience. He started operating as a slave trader from a location on Light Street before purchasing a slave pen from Austin Woolfolk at Pratt and Cove Streets.
The location of the pen was behind where the Babe Ruth Statue now stands between Camden Station and the baseball stadium. Looking at a photo of the area taken c. 1911 (see photo), one can see in the right-foreground a walled enclosure containing a yard and two long, low buildings with small windows near the roof line. That is the location of Donovan’s pen. Since this photo was taken in the early 20th century, it is conceivable that it is the actual jail repurposed for another use, but that is conjecture.
Donovan had sold thousands of people South by the time he died at his home on this location April 16, 1861, just a few days after the outbreak of the Civil War.
His widow, Caroline Donovan, used the money she inherited from her husband’s slave trade to build a fortune that enabled her to donate heavily to the fledgling Johns Hopkins University. The “Caroline Donovan Professorship in English Literature,” established in 1889, is the first endowed chair at JHU. Also, a room in McCoy Hall carries the Donovan name.
While nothing remains to indicate what once transpired here, we pinpoint this location to memorialize the victims of enslavement in America.
James Franklin Purvis arrived in Baltimore around 1831 to act as an agent for his uncle, Isaac Franklin, whose firm was the largest purveyor of human beings in the country, Franklin & Armfield of Alexandria, VA. Purvis followed the same business methods the firm copied from another Baltimore slave trader, Austin Woolfolk: network of agents, saturation advertising, and building a jail to use as a holding area for the people being bought and sold.
Like Woolfolk, he started by placing advertisements in local newspapers to arrange meetings at local hotels, like Sinners’ Hotel or Whitman’s Eagle Hotel, where he purchased people to then sell South. It wasn’t long before Purvis was able to acquire a property at this location to build a slave jail. He also operated from an office at 2 S. Calvert Street near Baltimore Street, possibly choosing this location to be near the docks and the large Centre Market shopping area.