Ohio lawmaker's quest for Freedpeople justice includes state land for slavery descendants

A state lawmaker wants Ohio to find and donate land promised to formerly enslaved people in the 1800s but which they were denied at knifepoint after a harrowing trip from Virginia to western Ohio in June 1846 to claim it.

"I propose identifying state-owned land in Mercer County and returning it to the descendants of the Randolph Freedpeople," wrote Rep. Dontavius Jarrells, D-Columbus, in a June 13 letter to Gov. Mike DeWine and others. "Ohio lacked the courage to do the right thing then, but I believe we have the courage today to rectify this injustice."

Jarrells' efforts to right a wrong he considers "America's original sin" and "the enduring legacy of slavery" is complicated by history, identifying aggrieved descendants and the context by which land was settled and purchased almost 200 years ago, say those familiar with the issue.

Upon his death in 1833, John Randolph, a farmer and politician from Roanoke, Virginia, freed 383 enslaved people, stating in his will that he “give and bequeath to all my slaves their freedom, heartily regretting that I have ever been the owner of one.”

This was notable because Randolph's pledge occurred 30 years before Abraham Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation, which ordered the end of slavery following three years of Civil War.

How Randolph's estate acquired the land in Ohio is different than it is today. Natural landmarks, trees, boulders or creeks used to identify boundaries have been supplanted by modern surveying and satellite imagery and coordinates.

And all of the land has since changed hands, according to property records.

Jarrells said that 94 noncontiguous parcels have been identified, using property records and historical data.

"There's no doubt about what land was purchased," said Janell Weiss, who oversees the Mercer County Auditor's real estate office. "You can read the deeds."

But who has current ownership is more complicated.

A judge assigned to the Randolph estate "bought up the property in Ohio, supposedly adding up to 3,200 acres. But after the fiasco with the mob, he gave up and supposedly sold the land. He went up there with money hanging out of his pockets," said Charles Coutellier, of Hilliard, a retired land surveyor, who like many has followed the saga.

According to reports at the time, those confronting the Freedpeople justified their actions:

“We will not live among negroes, and as we have settled here first, we have fully determined that we will resist the settlement of blacks and mulattos in this country, to the full extent of our means, the bayonet not excepted."

The confrontation "was very much a clan-like mob, but almost all of the people who are named in reports were county officials, Coutellier said he learned. "Not just people they pulled out of the bar half-drunk."

"There was a great injustice done in that mob that kept (freed slaves) from the land they owned, that had been bought for them and cabins built for them. There's a whole history of mob violence in the United States."

But, Coutellier believes, "there's a willing determination to find some justice. It is certainly growing. It's certainly not going to go away easily."

Some who live near the area question if Jarrell's quest for justice will ever come.

"There's a lot of speculation on where that land may be," said Jane Bailey, former curator of the Shelby County Historical Society, who was raised in western Ohio and familiar with Mercer County. "You have to look at the county borders at the time. It may say Mercer County when they purchased the land, but today it's a part of (neighboring) Auglaize County."

Also complicating Jarrell's efforts is the historical context: Was the promised land already owned by others?

German and French migrants helped build the Miami-Erire Canal system that extended along the Great Miami River and by which the Freedpeople made their way to Mercer County.

After toiling for years on the canal and what would become Grand Lake Saint Mary's just south of Celina, the Mercer County seat, the migrants were rewarded with land in the area.

If accurate, "basically, the land got double-sold," Bailey said.

So upon the former slaves' arrival in 1846, it might not have been a surprise that there was confusion, anger and threats.

What Jarrell's describes as racist language, at the time might have been a description of what the Germans and French considered intruders, Bailey said.

"You have to look back at this through the lens of the day and what was (then) considered normal," she said.

The former slaves eventually settled south of Mercer County in the area around Piqua in Miami County. Claims to the disputed land, which had been improperly sold, were litigated and appealed to the Ohio Supreme Court, which in 1910 upheld lower court decisions that there be no compensation due to the statute of limitations passing.

Julie Vore, a Columbus attorney and amateur historian, has pored over deeds, newspaper articles and court records.

"It's a very interesting story that has a very modern theme," she said.

In his letter to DeWine, Jarrells said he's fighting on principle: "To 'form a more perfect Union,' we, as responsible citizens and leaders, must carry forward the dream of our Founding Fathers and push our great country and its people forward."

Asked if he would settle for something less than repatriation of descendants or monetary damages to those aggrieved, he said his push is "a starting point."

"I think the world is going to watch us in Ohio," Jarrells said. "The soul of Ohio, I believe, is on the line."

"Now is the time for Ohio to acknowledge its failure, learn from it, and move forward."

dnarciso@dispatch.com

This article originally appeared on The Columbus Dispatch: Ohio lawmaker's quest for Freedpeople justice includes state land for slavery descendants