Araminta Ross (Harriet Tubman) was born enslaved in 1822 in Maryland's Eastern shore in Dorchester County. Harriet Tubman’s parents, Harriet “Rit” (mother) and Ben Ross (father), had nine children. As a child, Tubman did not have the opportunity to spend time with her family. She was separated from her father when her slaveholder, Edward Brodess, moved only Tubman, her mother and siblings to his farm in Bucktown. Also, three of her older sisters were sold into slavery in the Deep South. By age six she was separated from her mother when she was rented out and forced to work for other masters to care for their children, and catch and trap muskrats in the Little Blackwater River. Tubman remembered the emotional pain being separated from her family, which she never wanted to experience again.
In March of 1849, Tubman’s enslaver, Edward Brodess, died. Tubman knew that in order for Brodess’s wife to pay her husband’s debts, she needed to sell some of her slaves. Tubman did not want to be sold away from her family and into the even more brutal conditions of slavery in the deep South. In the fall of 1849, she escaped from slavery alone, and found freedom in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. In Philadelphia, Tubman made connections and found support among other black and white abolitionists. Although Harriet Tubman found her freedom, she was separated from her family. Between 1850 and 1860, Tubman returned to the Eastern Shore of Maryland 13 times and freed more than 70 family and friends so that they could be free together.
Tubman’s work as a liberator continued into the Civil War (1861-1865). Before the war started, Tubman caught the attention of several white politicians because of her contacts with well-known black and white abolitionists in the North. Massachusetts Governor, John Andrew, heard of Tubman’s successes freeing slaves on the Underground Railroad out of Maryland, and taking them North into Philadelphia and St. Catharines, Ontario, Canada. Andrew believed the knowledge and skills that Tubman gained traveling the marshlands in Maryland’s Eastern Shore would be useful in the marshlands on the coastal region of South Carolina, since the two landscapes were similar.
Tubman arrived in Port Royal, South Carolina in 1862 to help Union generals recruit black troops, serve as a Union spy, and nurse wounded soldiers. Perhaps her most dramatic effort to weaken the Confederacy came on June 1, 1863, when she planned and led an armed raid along the Combahee River, becoming the first woman to do so in U.S. military history. Tubman, Colonel James Montgomery, and the 2nd Carolina Colored Infantry burned several plantations, destroyed Confederate supply lines, and freed more than 750 people from slavery.
In 1859, Harriet Tubman bought a house in Auburn, New York from Senator William H. Seward to serve as a home for her family. After the war, women and African Americans continued their fight for equality and voting rights. Tubman became a co-founding member of the National Association of Colored Women that demanded equality and suffrage for African American women. After 1869, Harriet married Civil War veteran Nelson Davis, and they adopted their daugher Gertie. On March 10, 1913, Harriet Tubman died of pneumonia and was buried in Fort Hill Cemetery in Auburn.
Throughout her life, Harriet Tubman was a fighter. Tubman’s legacy continues in society years after her death. During World War II a ship was named in her honor. Aburi, Ghana features a statue of Tubman, and her image appeared on U.S. postage stamps. She is scheduled to appear on the new twenty dollar bill in the year 2020. Tubman’s story speaks compassion and courage that continue to touch the lives of people.
Horton, Lois E, .
Larson, Kate Clifford, .
Larson, Kate Clifford,
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At the Smithsonian | October 30, 2019
“Harriet,” a new film starring Cynthia Erivo, is the first feature film dedicated solely to the American icon
Meilan Solly
Associate Editor, History
Harriet Tubman’s first act as a free woman was poignantly simple. As she later told biographer Sarah Bradford, after crossing the Pennsylvania state boundary line in September 1849, “I looked at my hands to see if I was the same person. There was such a glory over everything; the sun came like gold through the trees, and over the fields, and I felt like I was in Heaven.”
The future Underground Railroad conductor’s next thoughts were of her family. “I was free,” she recalled, “but there was no one to welcome me to the land of freedom. I was a stranger in a strange land; and my home after all, was down in Maryland; because my father, my mother, my brothers, and sisters, and friends were there.”
Tubman dedicated the next decade of her life—a period chronicled in Harriet , a new biopic starring Cynthia Erivo as its eponymous heroine — to rescuing her family from bondage. Between 1850 and 1860, she returned to Maryland some 13 times, helping around 70 people —including four of her brothers, her parents and a niece—escape slavery and embark on new lives. Of her immediate family members still enslaved in the southern state, Tubman ultimately rescued all but one —Rachel Ross, who died shortly before her older sister arrived to bring her to freedom. This failure, says Mary N. Elliott , curator of American slavery at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC), was a source of “lingering heartbreak” for Tubman. The abortive attempt, undertaken in late 1860, marked her last rescue mission on the Underground Railroad.
Despite the fact that she looms large in the public imagination, Tubman has rarely received the level of scholarly attention afforded to similarly iconic Americans. Catherine Clinton, author of the 2004 biography Harriet Tubman: The Road to Freedom , tells the New York Times she has even encountered people “who were not sure if [Tubman] was even a real person, or if she was a figure from folklore, like Johnny Appleseed.”
Director Kasi Lemmons says the new movie, which opens in theaters November 1 and is the first feature film dedicated solely to Tubman, aims to present a well-rounded portrait of the oft-mythologized figure, revealing “her courage and her womanhood so that [viewers] feel like you’ve actually spent time with this beautiful person.”
Lemmons adds, “I want you to feel like you had lunch with her.”
Previously, the abolitionist, suffragist and activist was immortalized mainly through children’s books and cameo appearances in dramas centered on other Civil War era figures. Her life has been reduced to broad strokes—escaped from slavery, helped others do the same, advocated for underrepresented groups’ rights—and her individual character overlooked in favor of portraying an idealized superhuman. What’s missing, says Elliott, who co-curated NMAAHC's “Slavery and Freedom” exhibition, is a sense of Tubman’s humanity: in other words, who she was “as a woman.”
Born Araminta “Minty” Ross between 1820 and 1825, the future Harriet Tubman came of age in antebellum Dorchester County. Headstrong even as an adolescent, she defied orders and was soon relegated from domestic work to more punishing labor in the fields. This familiarity with the land would prove helpful down the line, according to Beverly Lowry’s Harriet Tubman: Imagining a Life , providing a “steady schooling” in nature that proved much more advantageous than the “dead-end day-in-day-out tedium of domestic work.”
When Tubman was around 13 years old, she sustained a life-changing—and nearly life-ending— injury . Caught in a violent disagreement between another enslaved individual and his overseer, the young girl inadvertently bore the brunt of the latter’s anger: Although he had flung a two-pound lead weight across the room in hopes of stopping the male, the overseer missed his target and delivered a “ stunning blow ” to Tubman’s head.
Three days later, she was back in the fields. The wound eventually healed, or at least as much as can be expected without adequate medical treatment, but Araminta herself was forever changed. As Lowry notes, the teenager “began having visions and speaking with God on a daily basis, as directly and as pragmatically as if he were a guardian uncle whispering instructions exclusively to her.” Later in life, those who met her spoke of how she would fall asleep in the middle of conversations, dozing off before continuing as if nothing had happened.
A defining moment in Tubman’s pre-escape life was the sale of three of her sisters to unknown slaveholders in the Deep South. Here, Lowry writes, the enslaved were not even given a last name; separated from their loved ones, they were harshly exploited as cotton workers and risked losing their sense of identity entirely. Once the sisters—Linah, Soph and Mariah Ritty—were sold, their family members never heard from them again.
Tubman’s decision to run stemmed in large part from a fear of sharing her sisters’ fate. Although she had successfully commissioned a lawyer to comb through an old will and prove that her mother, Harriet “Rit” Ross, should have been freed upon reaching age 45 , Rit’s current owner, Edward Brodess, had opted to ignore his grandfather’s wishes. Rather than freeing Rit, who was now some 15 years past the stated deadline, Brodess illegally kept her—and by extension her children—in bondage.
On March 1, 1849, Tubman heard a rumor suggesting Brodess was preparing to sell her and multiple siblings to slaveholders in the Deep South. She started praying , offering up a dark plea to God: “Oh, Lord,” she said, as recounted by Bradford . “If you ain’t going to change that man’s heart, kill him, Lord, and take him out of the way.”
This “profane request” contradicted all of Tubman’s values, but as Lowry writes, “She prays it, and in years to come is willing to repeat that petition to a fellow Christian, word for word. Not only because in truth she spoke them, but also because she knows their shock value and understands the need to shock in order to re-create the time and the situation and the extremes to which it drove people.”
One week later, Brodess died, leaving Rit and her children at the mercy of his widow, Eliza. Faced with an increasingly uncertain future, Tubman prepared to flee.
By this point, she had married a free man named John and was perhaps considering starting a family of her own. Since children’s status mirrored that of their mother, all of the couple’s offspring would have been born into slavery—a fate Tubman probably tried to avoid by drawing Brodess’ attention to his grandfather’s will. Relationships between free and enslaved individuals were not uncommon, but as evidenced by a scene in the film in which Tubman’s owner warns John to stay away from his property, constraints imposed by slaveholders rendered such relationships tenuous at best.
In mid-September, Tubman convinced several of her brothers to join an escape attempt. Before making much progress, however, the brothers decided to turn back, fearful of the dangers awaiting them. Their sister, it seemed, would have to make the journey alone.
And so she did.
The film emphasizes its protagonist’s ability to commune with God to an extreme degree, attributing much of her multiple north-bound missions’ success to directions conveyed by a higher power. Reach a crossroads, for example, and Tubman pauses, listening for a moment before deciding where to go next.
“She has a fluid conversation [with God]; that’s the way she describes it,” Lemmons explains to Variety . “If you’re cynical and don’t believe that, you could say she has perfect instincts.”
Elliott says Tubman likely navigated through a mixture of instinct, careful assessment of her surroundings and “unyielding faith.” She also benefitted from her previous experience as an outdoor laborer.
“People did just pick up and run,” Elliott says. “But here’s this woman who had some degree of insight on how to navigate. . . . She may have had to figure out where to go, but [at least] she had some sense of the landscape.”
Guided by the North Star and aided by conductors on the Underground Railroad, Tubman traveled north to Philadelphia—an immensely impressive trek that cemented her standing in the city’s abolitionist circles. ( Hamilton alum Leslie Odom Jr. appears in Harriet as abolitionist William Still , but many of the movie’s secondary characters, including Walter, a reformed bounty hunter who helps guide Tubman; Gideon, the slaveholder who owns the Ross family; and Marie Buchanon , a free woman and entrepreneur portrayed by singer Janelle Monáe , are fictionalized.)
Erivo’s Tubman has an “air of a superhero nature,” according to Elliott, but as she points out, “How can you get around it? Because that was a tiny [5-foot-tall] woman who traveled [nearly] 100 miles by herself.”
Following Tubman’s successful escape, the film shifts focus to its subject’s rescue missions, exploring such threads as her attempts to reunite the Ross family in freedom, the aftermath of the Fugitive Slave Act ’s passage in 1850 and the Underground Railroad’s little-known network of black maritime workers .
A particularly poignant moment centers on Tubman’s reunion with her husband John, who married a free woman following his wife’s departure. But while the film portrays him as a sympathetic character who hoped to join Tubman on her journey north and only remarried after hearing an unsubstantiated rumor that she had died during the escape attempt, the real John appears to have been decidedly less supportive , even threatening to betray his wife if she followed through on plans to flee.
When Tubman returned to Dorchester County in the fall of 1851, she found her husband comfortably settled in a new life . He declined to journey north with her, preferring to remain in Maryland with his new wife. Still, the trip wasn’t a complete disappointment: Eleven enslaved individuals joined Tubman as she wound her way up the East Coast, eventually finding safety in Canada—the only viable option for escaped slaves after the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 gave bounty hunters unchecked power within the United States.
Elliott says Tubman’s tangible heartbreak upon learning of her husband’s actions offers a powerful example of her humanity. “She was a woman who loved,” the curator notes. “She love[d] deeply, obviously, and she had passion.”
Speaking with the Hollywood Reporter , Harriet director Kasi Lemmons adds, “Harriet was motivated by love of her family. That transcends race and boundaries.”
In popular lore, Tubman is often portrayed as a benign, grandmotherly “ Moses ” figure. The fact that she was a young woman when she escaped bondage is overlooked, as is a sense of her fierce militant nature. According Kate Clifford Larson’s Bound for the Promised Land , Tubman carried a pistol during rescue missions, “telling her charges to go on or die, for a dead fugitive slave could tell no tales.” But this aspect of the trips is rarely highlighted, particularly in the children’s books where Tubman is most often placed front and center.
“These books defanged her, declawed her, to make her more palatable,” Lemmons tells the New York Times . “Because there’s something quite terrifying about the image of a black woman with a rifle.”
At the same time, Elliott explains, Tubman had a taste for the “delicate things” in life, including fine china and refined clothing.
“I always call her an iron fist in a velvet glove,” Elliot adds. She wanted to love and be loved and “appreciated looking pretty,” but she “had no problem with getting dirty if it meant saving a life.”
The American Civil War began on April 12, 1861, just months after Tubman’s final rescue mission in late 1860. The film speeds through this period, pausing briefly in June 1863 to reference the Combahee River Raid —a military expedition that freed around 750 enslaved people and was the first of its kind to be led by a woman—but focusing largely on the decade between its heroine’s escape and the end of her Underground Railroad days.
Tubman died of pneumonia on March 10, 1913, around the age of 90. Given the constraints imposed by its 10-year timeline and two-hour runtime, the movie does not address the bulk of this long life, instead opting to retrace the most well-known sequence of events. Among the chapters missing from the film: Tubman’s time as a Union spy , her 1869 marriage to Nelson Davis —a soldier some 20 years her junior—and the couple’s 1874 adoption of a baby girl named Gertie, her work as a suffragist , neurosurgery undertaken to address her decades-old brain injury, financial hardship later in life, and the opening of the Harriet Tubman Home for the Elderly in 1908.
Larson, a Tubman biographer and one of the film’s historical advisers, tells the New York Times she wishes Harriet was “completely, totally accurate.” Still, she adds, “It’s Hollywood. And they got Tubman. Kasi Lemmons really got her, and made her this militant radical, while also conveying her love for her family. And that’s who Tubman was.”
Ultimately, Elliott says, “I hope that viewers seek more information on those different aspects of slavery and freedom,” from marriage between enslaved and free people to the terrifying reality of leaving one’s home and living among people who were born free.
Going forward, Elliott concludes, “There is a lot of material out there for Hollywood to tell the unvarnished truth and to humanize the experience of African-Americans.”
Many artifacts from the life of Harriet Tubman, including her hymnal and her shawl, are on view at the Smithsonian's National Museum of African American History and Culture. The film Harriet will be screened at the museum Thursday, October 31, at 7 p.m.
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Meilan Solly | | READ MORE
Meilan Solly is Smithsonian magazine's associate digital editor, history.
By: Barbara Maranzani
Updated: January 4, 2023 | Original: May 31, 2013
It’s unclear exactly when the woman who would be known as Harriet Tubman was born, with dates ranging from 1815 to 1822. Historians do know that she was one of nine children born to Harriet “Rit” and Ben Ross, enslaved people owned by two different families on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.
With her parents separated, Tubman’s mother struggled to keep her family together, and three of Tubman’s sisters were sold to other plantation owners. Tubman’s owners, the Brodess family, “loaned” her out to work for others while she was still a child, under what were often miserable, dangerous conditions.
READ MORE: Enslaved Couples Faced Wrenching Separations, or Even Choosing Family Over Freedom
Sometime around 1844, she married John Tubman, a free Black man. Though Tubman remained enslaved, mixed marriages were not uncommon in the region, which had a large percentage of formerly enslaved people who had received (or bought) their manumission. Shortly after her marriage, Araminta, known as “Minty” to her family, changed her name to Harriet to honor her mother.
From an early age Tubman was subjected to the beatings and abuse that were commonplace in many slave-owning homes. Already frail and small (she was likely no more than 5 feet tall), Tubman’s health began to deteriorate, decreasing her value to her owners and limiting her prospects for work.
When she was in her early teens, Tubman was badly injured when an owner, trying to stop the escape attempt of another enslaved person, threw a large weight across a room, striking Tubman in the head. Tubman was given little medical care or time to recuperate before she was sent back out to work. She never recovered from the damage done to her brain and skull, suffering periodic seizures that researchers believed may have been a form of epilepsy.
In September 1849, fearful that her owner was trying to sell her, Tubman and two of her brothers briefly escaped, though they didn’t make it far. For reasons still unknown, her brothers decided to turn back, forcing Tubman to return with them.
A few months later, Tubman set off again, this time on her own, leaving her husband and family behind as she made her way north through Delaware and Pennsylvania, stopping periodically at a series of hideouts along the Underground Railroad, before settling in Philadelphia. In late 1850, after hearing of the upcoming sale of one of her nieces, Tubman headed back down south, embarking on the first of nearly two dozen missions to help other enslaved people escape as she had.
One of the most complicated myths about Tubman is the claim (first mentioned in a 19th-century biography) that she escorted more than 300 enslaved people to freedom over the course of 19 missions. Tubman herself never used this number, instead of estimating that she had rescued around 50 people by 1860—mostly family members.
Historians now believe that it’s likely that she was personally responsible for ushering around 70 people to freedom along the Underground Railroad in the decade before the Civil War . It’s also unlikely that there was ever a substantial bounty offered for Tubman’s capture during her years as an undercover operator, let alone one worth tens of thousands of dollars, as some publications claimed.
It’s unlikely that Tubman’s former owners or the owners of the enslaved people she rescued ever realized that it was the woman formerly known as Minty Ross spiriting their enslaved people away. The only known “reward” offered for Tubman’s capture was a newspaper ad that her owner, Eliza Brodess, published in a Maryland paper after Tubman’s first escape attempt in September 1849. Brodess offered $300 for the capture and return of Tubman and two of her brothers.
Tubman’s first husband, John, had stayed behind in Maryland rather than follow his wife north, eventually remarrying. After the Civil War ended, Tubman was also remarried, to a war veteran named Nelson Davis who was 22 years her junior. The couple later adopted a daughter, Gertie, but it is Tubman’s relationship to her another girl that has puzzled historians for more than a century.
Shortly after Tubman settled in Auburn, New York, in 1859, she travelled once again to Maryland on a rescue mission, this time returning with a young girl named Margaret, who Tubman referred to as her niece. Tubman claimed that Margaret was the daughter of a moderately comfortable family of freed Black people, leaving many to wonder why she would have uprooted the child from a stable home. Margaret’s resemblance to Tubman, and the pair’s unusually strong bond has led to the belief among historians that Margaret was Tubman’s own daughter, though her paternity remains unknown.
Shortly after the war broke out in 1861, Tubman joined a group of other abolitionists who headed south to assist enslaved people who escaped to safety behind Union lines. Working in a series of camps in Union-held portions of South Carolina, Tubman quickly learned the lay of the land and offered her services to the army as a spy, leading a group of scouts who mapped out much of the region. Tubman’s reconnaissance work laid the foundation for one of the more daring raids of the Civil War, when she personally accompanied Union soldiers in their nighttime raid at Combahee Ferry in June 1863.
After guiding Union boats along the mine-filled waters and coming ashore, Tubman and her group successfully rescued more than 700 enslaved people working on nearby plantations, while dodging bullets and artillery shells from slave owners and Confederate soldiers rushing to the scene.
The success of the raid, which had also included the brave service of African-American soldiers, increased Tubman’s fame, and she went on to work on similar missions with the famed Massachusetts 54th Infantry before spending the final years of the war tending to injured soldiers. One hundred years after Tubman’s successes in South Carolina, a recently formed Black feminist group took the name Combahee River Collective in her honor, also paying honor to Tubman’s work later in her life as a powerful advocate for women’s suffrage.
READ MORE: After the Underground Railroad, Harriet Tubman Led a Brazen Civil War Raid
Despite her contributions to the war effort, Tubman received little compensation, likely earning less than $200 during the war itself. Compounding the issue was Tubman’s clandestine work as a spy, making it difficult for the federal government to formally recognize her work. For years, Tubman repeatedly requested an official military pension, but was denied. Two decades after the wars end, a U.S. congressman went so far as to introduce legislation calling for Tubman to receive a $2,000 pension, but the bill was defeated. In the end, Tubman received some military benefits, but only as the wife of an “official” veteran, her second husband, Nelson Davis.
Tubman’s lifelong charity and generosity towards her family and fellow formerly enslaved people, coupled with a series of financial reversals late in her life left her in desperate straits. She struggled to pay off the purchase of a plot of land in Auburn, New York, that soon became home to her extended family and in 1873 she fell victim to a vicious fraud that saw her swindled and robbed of more than $2,000 and physically beaten by the conmen.
Tubman’s supporters desperately tried to alleviate her financial suffering, holding benefits and writing newspaper reports to raise funds. Tubman also agreed to work with a biographer, Sarah Bradford, on two books about her extraordinary life, with the proceeds used to support Tubman. Bradford, a fellow abolitionist and Tubman admirer, undoubtedly had good intentions, but it was her work that created many of the fallacies and inconsistencies with the historical record that has left much of the true nature of Tubman’s important work unclear.
Though Tubman never managed to truly escape her dire financial straits, she continued to donate her money to various causes, donating a parcel of land near her Auburn, New York, home for the creation of what became known as the Harriet Tubman Home for the Aged, which was to be open only to impoverished Black people. When Tubman’s own health began to fail in 1911, she herself entered the home she had helped create, dying there of pneumonia on March 10, 1913.
READ MORE: 6 Strategies Harriet Tubman and Others Used to Escape Along the Underground Railroad
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By Casey Cep
Just how far down did Moses go? The spiritual does not say, but one of the prophet’s namesakes—the woman who sang “Go Down, Moses” along the rivers and roads of the Eastern Shore of Maryland as she helped some seventy people escape slavery via the Underground Railroad—went as far south as she could. Harriet Tubman returned not only to the border state from which she herself had escaped; defiantly courageous, she ventured deeper into the land of bondage to liberate hundreds of others during the Civil War.
Her greatest feat may also be among her least known—a raid of Confederate rice plantations on the Combahee River, in the Lowcountry of South Carolina, which liberated more than seven hundred enslaved Americans. She did not lead the raid, as some recent histories suggest, but she was integral to its success. For more than a year, Tubman gathered intelligence from formerly enslaved men and women fleeing the Confederacy, and she recruited troops, scouts, and pilots from around Port Royal, South Carolina, to help the Union Army fight its way through enemy territory.
On the night of June 1, 1863, five months after the Emancipation Proclamation and a few weeks before the Battle of Gettysburg, Tubman accompanied Colonel James Montgomery and the newly freed men of the 2nd South Carolina Volunteers as they boarded three steamboats off the coast of Beaufort. Their paddle wheels turned quietly in the dark as the vessels advanced toward St. Helena Sound. From the pilot house of the lead steamer, Tubman watched a full moon rise, its light a welcome guide for the raiders as they avoided pluff mud and mines, following a serpentine, twenty-five-mile route up the river. By the next morning, Montgomery’s men had landed and driven off the few remaining Confederate pickets, most enemy soldiers having fled the so-called sickly season, when malaria and yellow fever ravaged the coast. Thanks to Tubman’s intelligence, the Union troops faced almost no resistance besides a few skirmishes; after destroying a pontoon bridge they marched on seven plantations, burning whatever they could not confiscate. Millions of dollars in property was left smoldering as soldiers made away with rice, cotton, corn, chickens, pigs, and horses, but the soldiers were soon overwhelmed by a different kind of “contraband.”
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Tubman later remembered how enslaved people of all ages emerged like “startled deer” from the fields and the forests along the shoreline, running for the boats like “the children of Israel, coming out of Egypt.” It was as if a “mysterious telegraphic communication” had gone from one rice field to the next, with laborers sharing the news that “Lincoln’s gun-boats come to set them free,” she said. Hundreds of refugees began rushing the rowboats; once those were filled, the oarsmen, worried about capsizing and afraid of being stranded, began beating people back. Seeing the chaos, Montgomery called out to Tubman for help: “Moses, you’ll have to give ’em a song.”
Above the screaming, the splashing, and the gunfire, Tubman’s voice rang out. “Of all the whole creation in the east or in the west, / The glorious Yankee nation is the greatest and the best,” she sang. “Come along! Come along! Don’t be alarmed, / Uncle Sam is rich enough to give you all a farm.” After every verse of the abolitionist anthem, the clamoring crowds let go of the boats, raised their hands, and shouted, “Glory!” The rowboats returned to the steamers, and the three steamships returned to Beaufort, with more than seven hundred newly freed people.
That dramatic scene, with all its danger, grace, and tragedy, is wonderfully staged in Edda L. Fields-Black’s new history, “Combee: Harriet Tubman, the Combahee River Raid, and Black Freedom During the Civil War” (Oxford). Where some have seen the raid primarily as Tubman’s story, isolating her from the broader network of Black liberation, Fields-Black powerfully situates the abolitionist among her contemporaries—controversial military geniuses who advanced the war effort through espionage, river raids, and guerrilla tactics, and fellow freedom seekers who, like Tubman, chose not to flee but to go back down to pharaoh’s land and fight.
“Combee” is one of two notable books out this year to wrestle with less familiar aspects of Tubman’s legacy. The other is “Night Flyer: Harriet Tubman and the Faith Dreams of a Free People” (Penguin Press), by Tiya Miles. Fields-Black conveys, in elaborate detail, what America’s Moses did to help abolish slavery; Miles addresses the far more elusive question of why she did it.
Neither “Combee” nor “Night Flyer” is a cradle-to-grave biography, though both Fields-Black and Miles are drawn to the cradle that Tubman’s father made for her, from the trunk of a sweet-gum tree. Born Araminta Ross, to Harriet Green and Benjamin Ross, around 1822, Tubman was first known as Minty. There were tender moments—she recalled being rocked in that hand-carved cradle—but her early years in Tidewater Maryland were filled mostly with physical torture and emotional terror.
Tubman was the fifth of nine children. Three of her sisters were sold and sent to the Deep South. Her parents were owned by two different families who separated them not long after her birth. While still a young girl, Tubman was taken away from her mother and forced to work as a maid, a nanny, a trapper, and a field hand. She was whipped constantly and regularly deprived of food and clothing. Short and frail, she was often debilitated by beatings and was once struck so hard with a two-pound iron weight that she suffered seizures for the rest of her life. What was never beaten out of her was an innate sense of liberty—the knowledge, self-evident to her, that God intended for her to be liberated from bondage, spiritually as well as literally. “God set the North Star in the heavens,” she said later. “He gave me the strength in my limbs; He meant I should be free.”
Tubman’s concept of freedom was not only hoped for, like faith; it was something she observed in the world around her. Like Frederick Douglass, born just a few towns away, Tubman saw the reality of liberation early, interacting with formerly enslaved people who had worked to buy their freedom or been manumitted by their owners. In Tubman’s lifetime, the Black population in Maryland was almost evenly divided between enslaved and free; the year before the Civil War started, the state had more free Black people than any other in the country. She married one of those free men, John Tubman, and after taking his name she took her mother’s, too.
But marriage did not make Harriet Tubman free. Owing to the perverse absurdities of antebellum slave laws, she remained enslaved, and any of her children would be as well—born the property of the man who owned her. In 1844, when her wedding is thought to have taken place, that man was Edward Brodess, whose mother had owned Tubman’s mother. Tubman’s father had been manumitted by his owner, but Brodess had inherited Tubman, hiring her and her siblings out to neighbors for seasonal work, whether trapping muskrats or clearing land. Then, struggling with debt, Brodess decided that selling his inheritance would earn him more money than hiring them out.
Fearful that she would be separated from her family, Tubman turned to God. “I groaned and prayed for old master,” she told an early biographer. “Oh Lord, convert master! Oh Lord, change that man’s heart!” Brodess, evidently having as hardened a heart as the one Moses confronted in Exodus, did not relent. Tubman, on hearing that she and her brothers were to be sold into the Deep South, altered her petition. “If you ain’t never going to change that man’s heart,” she remembered pleading, “kill him, Lord, and take him out of the way.” Brodess died within the week.
Brodess’s wife, though, still planned to proceed with the sale, and on the night of September 17, 1849, Tubman, who had spent her entire life hearing God’s voice and having visions of God’s mercy, decided to act on her faith, and she fled into the darkness with two of her brothers. The brothers grew frightened and soon persuaded her to turn back, but she set off again later, on her own. “I’m bound for the promised land / On the other side of Jordan,” she sang while leaving, hoping that her friends and family would understand where she was headed.
That promised land was both geographical, the American North, and theological, God’s Kingdom on Earth. Many readers today will find such a concept confounding; some of Tubman’s contemporaries did, too. But resurrecting her spiritual life is the unusual project of Miles’s “Night Flyer.” Noting that Tubman “oriented to the world from a place of immersive religious belief,” Miles argues that we might never understand her if we don’t try to occupy that same “experiential space of integration between what she knew and what she felt, between rational thought, intuition, spiritual sensation, and landscape awareness.”
Abolition was a legal and social movement, but it was also a religious one, populated and promulgated by men and women of faith, who operated out of sincere and sweeping spiritual convictions. Tubman carried a pistol, but when questioned about her safe passage she once declared, “I just asked Jesus to take care of me.” And although she has rightfully been compared to intellectuals such as Douglass and William Lloyd Garrison, Miles suggests that Tubman should also be considered alongside Black evangelists of the era, including Jarena Lee, the first female preacher in the African Methodist Episcopal Church; Zilpha Elaw, a mystic and a minister; Old Elizabeth, a spiritual memoirist; and Julia A. J. Foote, a leader in the Wesleyan-Holiness movement.
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“Night Flyer” is a welcome corrective to the sorts of biographical portraits that reduce religious faith to psychoanalytic case studies or medical mysteries. It takes seriously the spiritual life of a people who, despite their enormous suffering, emerged with a robust and restorative religious tradition all their own. Rather than suggesting that Tubman’s prophetic visions and potent prayers were merely the product of temporal-lobe epilepsy or narcolepsy, Miles explores Tubman’s own explanation for their origin—the Lord God Almighty. Tubman and these other pioneering Black women “came to view themselves as ‘sanctified’ or ‘holy,’ after an emotionally wrought process of spiritual transformation,” Miles writes, and they shared a profound theology of universalism, inspired by St. Peter’s declaration in Acts that “God is no respecter of persons” and St. Paul’s assertion in Galatians that “there is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female, for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.”
The little we know about Tubman’s motivations comes robed in Scripture and prayer—blinding garments for modern eyes, but Miles helps us see. Raised in the Baptist Church, Miles, a professor of history at Harvard, studied womanist theology in her early academic career and has lately focussed her scholarship on the environmental humanities, connecting ecology with spirituality in careful, creative studies of nineteenth-century America. One of those studies won the National Book Award, in 2021: “All That She Carried,” a beautiful, braided story of a single South Carolina family, told through a cotton sack passed from one generation to the next.
That book, Miles wrote, “leans toward evocation rather than argumentation and is rather more meditation than monograph.” The same approach serves her well in “Night Flyer,” which portrays Tubman as the living embodiment of an extraordinary faith that helped her escape the estuarine ecology of the Eastern Shore of Maryland and master the salt marshes of the South Carolina Lowcountry. “Among the best preserved of Tubman’s speech acts are her prayers,” Miles notes. She has collected many of them in “Night Flyer,” along with modern poems and contemporary liturgies that give the book a spiritual texture not often encountered in narrative nonfiction. The result, like “All That She Carried,” is not an academic study of nineteenth-century Black history but a moving account of Tubman’s intellectual life—“her belief in God, heaven, and unseen powers” and “her belief in the integrity and import of relationships among all natural beings.”
A flock of Christian witnesses surrounds Tubman in “Night Flyer,” while a different cast of characters joins her in “Combee.” Some readers may balk at the equal attention that Fields-Black gives to Tubman’s many compatriots in the Combahee River Raid and the many South Carolinians liberated by their efforts, but the book’s more than seven hundred pages rescue neglected lives and, in the process, reconstitute an entire society.
For Fields-Black, those people are not just historical figures but family. Like Diane McWhorter’s “Carry Me Home” or Margot Lee Shetterly’s “Hidden Figures,” “Combee” derives some of its power from the author’s personal connection to the national history she recovers. In McWhorter’s magisterial account of the Birmingham campaign of the civil-rights movement, she teased out her own family’s complicity with the Ku Klux Klan. As a child, Shetterly, whose father worked with the “human computers” at NASA ’s Langley Research Center, was surrounded by the pioneering Black engineers, mathematicians, and scientists who later filled her book. Fields-Black, for her part, grew up visiting relatives around the Lowcountry, touring the region with her Gullah Geechee-speaking grandparents. She is a great-great-great-granddaughter of Hector Fields, one of hundreds of men who liberated themselves from the Confederacy and then fought to liberate others in the Combahee River Raid.
Aided by the Center for Family History at the International African American Museum, in Charleston, Fields-Black found military records and plantation archives that helped her plot Hector’s journey from enslavement in Beaufort to enlistment in the 2nd South Carolina Volunteers. He was denied a federal pension, but his brother Jonas had a two-hundred-and-fifty-five-page Army pension file that allowed Fields-Black to recover the story of the ancestors whose headstones she still visits at her family cemetery in Green Pond. Hector’s story is as important to Fields-Black as Tubman’s not only because of their family ties but because she understands that without men like him the Combahee River Raid would never have succeeded. As singular as Tubman was, her efforts depended on other freedom fighters.
Already famous for her furtive work as a conductor on the Underground Railroad, Tubman arrived in Beaufort in the spring of 1862, a few weeks after the Union general David Hunter declared martial law and ordered the emancipation of the local enslaved population. Tubman had the endorsement of Hunter’s friend John Andrew, who was the governor of Massachusetts—and a member of both the Boston Vigilance Committee, which provided assistance to fugitive slaves, and the Free Soil Party, which fought slavery in the Western territories. President Lincoln reversed Hunter’s emancipation order and rebuked him publicly, but Hunter began recruiting Black soldiers anyway.
Like Tubman, these soldiers were anomalous even among abolitionists, risking their freedom and safety by remaining in Confederate states. Thousands of them enlisted all around the country, forming regiments like the 1st South Carolina Colored Volunteers, the 1st Kansas Colored Infantry, and the 1st Louisiana Native Guard. They soon swelled the ranks of the Bureau of Colored Troops, joined by dozens of Northern regiments. By the end of the war, more than two hundred thousand Black men had volunteered for the Army or the Navy; nearly twenty per cent of them died fighting for the Union.
“Combee” studies the pension files of these veterans to reconstruct their lives before and after the Civil War, paying close attention to the Gullah Geechee people of the Carolina Lowcountry. We meet Old Heads, Prime Hands, and Pikins—what the Gullah Geechee called elders, enslaved laborers, and children—whose work, harvesting billions of dollars of Sea Island cotton and Carolina Gold rice, made the Combahee River one of the most profitable agricultural regions in the country. Some had already escaped to Port Royal in the first year of the war, after the Union Army captured the city and surrounding islands, joining the ten thousand refugees left behind after Confederate forces fled.
It was the Port Royal Experiment, an early attempt at Reconstruction, that drew Tubman to the Deep South, where she worked as a nurse and a cook, then established a kitchen and laundry where refugees could earn a living baking gingerbread and pies, making root beer, and washing clothes. At the same time, she interviewed all the “contrabands” she could, gathering information about the land they’d left behind, recruiting people who could navigate local byways and waterways, and encouraging able-bodied men to enlist. She became one of the Union’s most valuable spies, equipped with “secret service money” for paying informants and official travel papers that read “Pass the Bearer, Harriet Tubman, to Beaufort and back to this place, and wherever she wishes to go, and give her free passage at all times on Government transports.”
General Hunter had issued Tubman that pass, and he was eventually joined in the Department of the South by other white officers with abolitionist sympathies, eager to expand the use of Black troops. “Combee” celebrates two of these officers in particular, allies of Tubman who offered her opportunities to serve. Both were ministers who left their pulpits to fight for abolition, leading two of the first Black regiments at a time when the Army would not commission Black officers. Thomas Wentworth Higginson hailed from Massachusetts; after studying theology at Harvard Divinity School, he was called to a Unitarian church in Newburyport, then found a more radically abolitionist congregation in Worcester. Although remembered by some today as an early reader and mentor of Emily Dickinson, he was one of the Secret Six, who sent arms to Kansas and funded John Brown’s attack on Harper’s Ferry.
Higginson regarded Tubman as the seventh member of Brown’s Secret Six. He’d met her in Boston, before the war, and in a letter to his mother he described her as “the greatest heroine of the age.” “Her tales of adventure are beyond anything in fiction,” he wrote, “and her ingenuity and generalship are extraordinary.” Higginson commanded the 1st South Carolina Volunteers, and he often led actions with James Montgomery, who commanded the 2nd South Carolina. Montgomery had been raised a Congregationalist, in Ohio, but after moving to the slave state of Kentucky he found himself drawn to a more evangelical faith, the filings of his soul aligned magnetically by the spiritual fervor and social revolution of the Second Great Awakening. He became a Campbellite preacher and moved his family west, to Kansas, where he developed a reputation as one of the most zealous Jayhawkers, attacking pro-slavery households and retaliating against border ruffians. Although Tubman had known Higginson for longer, some sources say she told Hunter that she would accompany troops on the Combahee River Raid only if the fervid Montgomery was in charge.
What Tubman accomplished a hundred and sixty-one years ago deserves to be celebrated in the annals of military history, and Fields-Black argues that it should be celebrated as a revolutionary act in the history of Black liberation, too—as notable as the Stono Rebellion, in South Carolina, or Nat Turner’s revolt, in Virginia. Her characterization of the Combahee River Raid as “the largest and most successful slave revolt in U.S. history” is debatable, given the decisive assistance of the Union Army; other revolutionaries could presumably have succeeded at a similar scale if backed by its might. But it is true, as Fields-Black suggests, that those involved were crucial links in a long chain of brave individuals connecting this country to its most honorable ideals of freedom and equality. And she does not shy away from how often and how cruelly the United States has failed to uphold those ideals, including after the Civil War, when Tubman and countless other Black veterans were denied their pensions outright or had to spend decades fighting for the compensation that they deserved.
Tubman died famous but in near-penury. She received some money as the widow of a war veteran, her second husband—and, belatedly, through congressional appropriation, only a portion of the money she was owed for her service as a scout, a nurse, and a spy. Yet she never lost her faith, in her country or in her Creator. The beauty of “Combee” and “Night Flyer” is that, taken together, they remind us of the redemptive possibilities of patriotism and religious belief, ideologies that today are too often associated with the reactionary rather than the radical. On her deathbed, Tubman invoked the Gospel of John, paraphrasing the promise that Jesus made to his disciples of their place in Heaven, and also echoing her own promise to bring about that Heaven on earth: “I go away to prepare a place for you, and where I am you also may be.” ♦
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By Charles Bethea
Harriet Tubman led such an eventful life — so filled with hardship, extreme peril and close calls — that even an atheist might find it hard to deny that her nine decades of survival on this Earth were nothing short of miraculous.
Tubman herself credited God with guiding her dangerous work as a conductor on the Underground Railroad during the 1850s; she made an estimated 13 trips below the Mason-Dixon line and spirited as many as 80 souls north, often all the way to Canada. Tubman’s own escape in 1849 was legendary. After a first attempt with her brothers, who were so frightened that they insisted on turning back to their enslaver’s estate near the Chesapeake Bay, an undaunted Tubman made the treacherous 90-mile journey from Maryland to Pennsylvania on her own.
“Where others saw shut doors and unscalable brick walls, she dreamed into being tunnels and ladders,” the historian Tiya Miles writes in “Night Flyer,” a short biography of Tubman that is the first in a new series, called Significations and edited by Henry Louis Gates Jr., about notable Black figures. For decades after her death in 1913, Tubman’s extraordinary life was mostly relegated to books for children and young adults. Thorough, probing biographies by the historians Catherine Clinton and Kate Clifford Larson were published two decades ago. More recently, Tubman was the subject of a Hollywood biopic and “She Came to Slay,” an illustrated volume by the historian Erica Armstrong Dunbar, featuring a drawing of a pistol-toting Tubman on the cover.
Perhaps inevitably, all the pop-cultural attention has been double-edged, commemorating Tubman’s formidable accomplishments while also making it harder to discern who she actually was. Miles admits that before she started this project, Tubman “had become a stock figure in my imagination, a known hero in the cast of characters that we might call the abolitionist avengers.” Recognizing Tubman’s idiosyncrasies and physical ailments “resizes Tubman the cultural icon to human scale.”
Miles calls “Night Flyer” a “faith biography,” emphasizing Tubman’s spirituality along with her ecological awareness, expressed as a profound attentiveness to the natural world. Miles also draws on the life stories of “similar women,” such as the preachers Jarena Lee and Zilpha Elaw , to try to illuminate some of the more interior experiences that Tubman took care to keep hidden.
Such gaps in the historical record are familiar to Miles. Having written about Indigenous people and African Americans, including in the National Book Award-winning “All That She Carried,” she frequently faces what she has called “the conundrum of the archives.” Tubman did not read or write; she dictated her life story to “typically white, middle-class, antislavery women,” like her first biographer, Sarah Bradford. Although usually “well-meaning,” Tubman’s amanuenses sometimes “demeaned” her, casting her as an exotic, almost otherworldly figure.
Not to mention that Tubman herself was a skillful performer, someone whose feats of bravery were made possible by guardedness and caution. “She wanted to control the narrative,” Miles writes. By the end of the 1850s, Tubman was actively shaping her persona in spoken-word performances, “understanding that if she did not, others would make a character of her for their own ends.”
“Night Flyer” briskly narrates the major events of Tubman’s early life. She was born Araminta “Minty” Ross sometime around 1822, to Rit Green and Ben Ross on the eastern shore of Dorchester County, Md. After sustaining a severe head injury at 12 or 13, when she stepped between an enslaved boy in a shop and a two-pound weight that was lobbed by his overseer, Tubman began to have seizures that she associated with religious visions. She changed her name after marrying John Tubman, a free Black man, around 1844. By then, having seen two of her sisters “carried away” to the Deep South on a chain gang, Tubman was already asking herself a question that would animate the rest of her long life: “Why should such things be?”
Using these facts as a trellis, Miles tries to coax out Tubman’s personality. Tubman had always preferred being outside. As a child, in an effort to escape a beating for sneaking a lump of sugar, she hid for five days in a pigpen. In the 1830s, her enslaver hired her out to heavy, outdoor labor — driving oxen, cutting wood and hauling logs. Tubman deemed such work preferable to the domestic chores she hated (even though, after her escape, she would take on domestic work in order to help fund her rescue missions). Recreating the scene of Tubman’s eventual escape from slavery, Miles imagines the spongy soil of the wetland woods and the swamp blackberry she may have eaten.
But it wasn’t all about survival in the woods. Tubman also had a refined sense of style, Miles says — and a sense of humor about it, too. During the Civil War, she worked as a military scout and spy, and accompanied a regiment on the Combahee River Raid in South Carolina. Tubman recalled how her finery was not quite suitable for the occasion: “I started to run, stepped on my dress, it being rather long, and fell and tore it almost off, so that when I got on board the boat there was hardly anything left of it but shreds. I made up my mind then that I would never wear a long dress on another expedition of the kind, but would have a bloomer as soon as I could get it.”
“Night Flyer” includes an insert of color photographs by Amani Willett, of sites connected to the Underground Railroad. The last one shows a marker for the Mason-Dixon line. What’s especially striking is how ordinary it looks — a worn stub of stone, surrounded by overgrown greenery, that once marked an existential division between slavery and freedom.
Tubman lived for nearly half a century after the Civil War ended, sheltering people in her home in Auburn, N.Y., and establishing a care center for the elderly and disabled. Toward the end of “Night Flyer,” Miles admits to struggling with her project — trying to get closer to someone who left such a “murky paper trail.” She derides the as-told-to biographies, explaining that the white women who wrote them, despite their good intentions, “could not have told Tubman’s story with the fullness, clarity and philosophical depth that Tubman would have, had she written it herself.”
The claim is banal in one sense, and unsupported in another. Miles tells us that Tubman always took care not to expose “her own private feelings”; there’s little reason to think that she would have wanted to reveal more of herself to a hungry public. The Tubman who emerges from “Night Flyer” is still extraordinary, and still elusive. As one colleague put it to Miles: “No one could catch her then. It’s going to be hard to catch her now.”
The post Who Was Harriet Tubman? A Historian Sifts the Clues. appeared first on New York Times .
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Harriet Tubman (born c. 1820, Dorchester county, Maryland, U.S.—died March 10, 1913, Auburn, New York) was an American bondwoman who escaped from slavery in the South to become a leading abolitionist before the American Civil War.She led dozens of enslaved people to freedom in the North along the route of the Underground Railroad—an elaborate secret network of safe houses organized for ...
Harriet Tubman (born Araminta Ross, c. March 1822 - March 10, 1913) was an American abolitionist and social activist. ... and Anne Parrish, and is a character in novels by Terry Bisson, Ta-Nehisi Coates, and James McBride. Since Tubman's ...
Harriet Tubman was born around 1820 on a plantation in Dorchester County, Maryland. Her parents, Harriet ("Rit") Green and Benjamin Ross, named her Araminta Ross and called her "Minty ...
How Many Slaves Did Harriet Tubman Free? In an 1868 biography, writer Sarah H. Bradford gave an exaggerated estimate of the number of slaves Tubman directly led to safety via the Underground ...
In 1913, at the age of 91, Harriet Tubman died of pneumonia in the Home for the Aged & Indigent Negroes. In her final words, Tubman called upon her faith and made reference to John 14:3 in the Bible. She stated, "I go away to prepare a place for you, that where I am you also may be" (Larson 2004, p. 289).
The Saga of Harriet Tubman, "The Moses of Her People". The Golden Legacy Illustrated History Magazine is a graphic novel series published by Bertram A. Fitzgerald. These graphic novels were produced between 1966 and 1976 to " implant pride and self-esteem in black youth while dispelling myths in others.
Harriet Ross Tubman was born into slavery around 1822 in Dorchester County Maryland on the Eastern Shore. The fifth of nine children of two enslaved parents, Benjamin Ross or Ben Ross and Harriet "Rit" Green. Her mother was owned by Mary Pattison Brodess and Tubman's father by Anthony Thompson.
A drawing of Harriet Tubman called "Moses" / Library of Congress (1934/1935) by Bernarda Bryson National Women's History Museum. Araminta married a free black named John Tubman in 1844, taking his last name. She changed her first name, adopting her mother's name, becoming Harriet.
After escaping slavery on her own in 1849, Harriet Tubman helped others journey on the Underground Railroad. From 1850 to 1860 she made an estimated 13 trips and rescued around 70 enslaved people ...
In 1849 Harriet Tubman learned that she and her brothers Ben and Henry were to be sold. Financial difficulties of slave owners frequently precipitated sale of slaves and other property. The family had been broken before; three of Tubman's older sisters, Mariah Ritty, Linah, and Soph, were sold to the Deep South and lost forever to the family ...
After an extensive campaign for a military pension, she was finally awarded $8 per month in 1895 as Davis's widow (he died in 1888) and $20 in 1899 for her service. In 1896, she established the Harriet Tubman Home for the Aged on land near her home. Tubman died in 1913 and was buried with military honors at Fort Hill Cemetery in Auburn, New York.
Much of Tubman's story is shrouded in myth, but she is still revered for the courage that helped her not just escape, but evade potential capture while helping others.For a while, she was even ...
Auburn, NY. Date of Death: March 10, 1913. Place of Burial: Auburn, NY. Cemetery Name: Fort Hill Cemetery. Born into slavery on Maryland's Eastern Shore in 1822, Tubman was named Araminta by her enslaved parents, Ben and Rit Ross. Nearly killed at the age of 13 by a blow to her head, "Minty" recovered and grew strong and determined to be free.
Harriet Tubman: Slavery, the Civil War, and Civil Rights in the Nineteenth Century by Kristen Tegtmeier Oertel. Call Number: Olin Library E444.T82 O35 2015. Escaped slave, Civil War spy, scout, and nurse, and champion of women's suffrage, Harriet Tubman is an icon of heroism. Perhaps most famous for leading enslaved people to freedom through ...
Harriet Tubman. Date of Birth - Death 1820/1821 - March 10, 1913. Perhaps one of the best known personalities of the Civil War, Harriet Tubman was born into slavery as Araminta Ross, on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, sometime in 1820 or 1821. As a child, Tubman was "hired out" to various masters who proved to be particularly cruel and ...
Born. c.1820 • Dorchester • Maryland. Died. March 10, 1913 • Auburn • New York. Notable Family Members. daughter of Benjamin Ross • daughter of Harriet "Rit" Green • married to John Tubman (1844-1849) • married to Nelson Davis (1869-1888) Role In. American Civil War.
Harriet Tubman (c. 1820-March 10, 1913) was an enslaved woman, freedom seeker, Underground Railroad conductor, North American 19th-century Black activist, spy, soldier, and nurse known for her service during the Civil War and her advocacy of civil rights and women's suffrage. Tubman remains one of history's most inspiring African Americans ...
Harriet Tubman biography. Harriet Tubman (1822-1913) was an escaped slave who became a leading figure in the abolitionist movement. Harriet Tubman also served as a spy for the US army during the civil war and was an active participant in the struggle for women's suffrage. Tubman was born Araminta Ross, to slave parents who lived on ...
Harriet Tubman (c. March 1822 - March 10, 1913) Harriet Tubman, born Araminta Ross in Dorchester County, Maryland, was one of the most famous conductors on the Underground Railroad, an abolitionist, suffragist, activist, and served in the Civil War as leader, nurse, cook, scout, and spy. Tubman was arguably the most successful individual who ...
Araminta Ross (Harriet Tubman) was born enslaved in 1822 in Maryland's Eastern shore in Dorchester County. Harriet Tubman's parents, Harriet "Rit" (mother) and Ben Ross (father), had nine children. As a child, Tubman did not have the opportunity to spend time with her family. She was separated from her father when her slaveholder, Edward ...
1. Harriet Tubman was born Araminta Ross. She would later adopt the name "Harriet" after her mother: Harriet Ross. The surname Tubman comes from her first husband, John Tubman, who she married in ...
Tubman dedicated the next decade of her life—a period chronicled in Harriet, a new biopic starring Cynthia Erivo as its eponymous heroine — to rescuing her family from bondage. Between 1850 ...
Tubman herself used the Underground Railroad to escape slavery. In September 1849, fearful that her owner was trying to sell her, Tubman and two of her brothers briefly escaped, though they didn ...
Harriet Tubman Biography. Tubman was born into slavery in Dorchester County, Maryland. Extensive research now reveals that Harriet Tubman was probably born in late February or early March, 1822, in an area south of Madison called Peter's Neck. Harriet herself claimed she was born sometime between 1820-1825. Born Araminta Ross, she was the fifth ...
Harriet is a 2019 American biographical film directed by Kasi Lemmons, who also wrote the screenplay with Gregory Allen Howard.It stars Cynthia Erivo as abolitionist Harriet Tubman, with Leslie Odom Jr., Joe Alwyn, and Janelle Monáe in supporting roles. A biography about Harriet Tubman had been in the works for years, with several actresses, including Viola Davis, rumored to star.
Harriet Tubman, circa 1885. Pop-cultural attention to Tubman's extraordinary life has been double-edged, commemorating her accomplishments while also making it harder to discern who she actually ...
Tubman's commemorative plaque in Auburn, New York, erected 1914. Harriet Tubman (1822-1913) was an American abolitionist and social activist. After escaping slavery, Tubman made some 13 missions to rescue approximately 70 enslaved people, including her family and friends, using the network of antislavery activists and safe houses known as the Underground Railroad.
Harriet Tubman was born Araminta "Minty" Ross in Dorchester County, Maryland. However, because she was born into slavery, her exact age is unclear. Some believe that she was born in the early ...
A flock of Christian witnesses surrounds Tubman in "Night Flyer," while a different cast of characters joins her in "Combee." Some readers may balk at the equal attention that Fields-Black ...
Harriet Tubman led such an eventful life — so filled with hardship, extreme peril and close calls — that even ... she dreamed into being tunnels and ladders," the historian Tiya Miles writes in "Night Flyer," a short biography of Tubman that is the first in a new series, ... others would make a character of her for their own ends." ...