Volunteers are helping to excavate an area next to Christ Church in Elizabeth City, North Carolina, to find more artifacts that provide insight into the owner of a home on the property in the early 19th century – who they believe was George Davis, a black man who possessed considerable wealth at the time. Photo: Alice Brewin Moncla via Facebook

(Bishops’ News Service) What began with the removal of a tree at Christ Church in Elizabeth City, North Carolina, evolved into an insight into the life of the property’s previous owner and the region’s 19th-century history.

Elizabeth City is located in the far northeast of the state and is part of the Episcopal Diocese of East Carolina.

The tree, a magnolia, was planted over 100 years ago in memory of a son of the parish who died in World War I. When the tree became diseased, the church decided to remove it and planned to build a playground on the spot.

But when a crew began to dig up the tree, they discovered bricks, shards of broken crockery, bottles and other pottery – as well as a few bones. Fearing that it might be an unmarked grave, Father Daniel Cenci asked the workers to stop digging and went to look for it himself.

What they eventually found, Cenci told the Episcopal News Service, was something he did not expect: “Fifty years before the Civil War, in the pre-Civil War South, in the Black Belt region of North Carolina, known for its vast plantations and aristocracy, lives an African American man who owns two of only 77 lots in the entire town,” including the lots where the church now stands.

The church has been involved in racial reconciliation in its community for decades, Cenci said. In the 1960s, it was the first church in Elizabeth City to join forces when it merged with the historically black St. Philip’s Episcopal Church to form one congregation. Each February, it joins historically black churches in the city in hosting a service for Absalom Jones, the Episcopal Church’s first black priest. Christ Church also partners with many of those congregations on community development and outreach projects.

Digging into the past, the dirt and the district records

After that initial dig in late June, Cenci enlisted the help of the city’s Museum of the Albemarle. The museum is dedicated to the history and culture of northeastern North Carolina, a region historically known as “The Albemarle,” named after a 17th-century Duke of Albemarle.

The museum sent a curator and an archaeology intern, who determined that the bones were from an animal. They also quickly dated some of the artifacts to 1720, but they thought most were from between 1790 and 1830. The current church building was built in 1856, replacing a neighboring building that was constructed in 1825.

Cenci also alerted Ian Lowry, a member of the church and its historian, to the finds. The congregation also contacted the state archaeology office, whose staff, along with congregation members, found additional artifacts. These included pieces of porcelain that appeared to match the popular “Blue Willow” pattern, first made in England around 1790 and featuring various Chinese motifs, including a willow tree. Lowry also found the neck of a bottle imported from France, which he said likely contained wine.

Lowry and his mother, Robyn Nix Culpepper, another local history buff, began digging in another way: searching county records for the owner of these artifacts and the house they came from.

They found a deed made out to George Davis, who owned the property from 1811 to 1822 and most likely owned the artifacts. The deed noted that Davis was “colored.” Lowry said the term may have referred to someone of mixed race, but likely meant that Davis was black. Census records show Davis was a free man, but whether he had ever been enslaved remains unclear.

Among the shards of pottery found at the Christ Church archaeological site in Elizabeth City, North Carolina, are pieces (above plate) that historian Ian Lowry believes are from 19th-century Blue Willow tableware imported from England. Photo: Ian Lowry via Facebook

Lowry told ENS that the findings indicate Davis was now upper-middle class. The two properties he owned were waterfront lots overlooking the Dismal Swamp Canal, which began serving as a channel to transport local goods through the Chesapeake Bay in Virginia to buyers on the East Coast and overseas in 1805.

Don Pendergraft, director of regional museums at the Museum of the Albemarle, told ENS that in the early 19th century, many black people lived in the area, making up about half of the city’s population. Some were enslaved by the owners of the area’s few large cotton and tobacco plantations or by area farmers. Some may have been former slaves who fled Virginia to the area, which was only recently settled – Elizabeth City was founded in 1793 – and had fewer opportunities to enforce slavery laws than its neighbors to the north. Some of them were probably skilled artisans, such as carpenters or masons, and were able to make a good living, he said.

But the region’s dependence on the river also gave black men the opportunity to pilot riverboats, Pendergraft said. Because trade was conducted through the canal, many boats were piloted by black men, which not only ensured them a good living but also made them the highest authority on board, even higher than a boat’s white owner.

Lowry said Davis was certainly wealthy enough to own imported tableware and wine, but he has not yet been able to determine how he made his money.

Based on the large number of bricks unearthed, Lowry suspected that the house on the property had at least one chimney, probably two, and probably had two stories, as was the case with similar houses from that era. “This was still a time when most people in the county lived in one- or two-room cabins,” Lowry said. “Even most free whites who were farmers or something like that still lived in those conditions.”

The third entry in a Christ Church parish register from the early 19th century shows the marriage of John Edge to Charlotte Davis, who is described as (col’d), meaning she was a person of colour. Charlotte was the daughter of George Davis. Photo: Ian Lowry via Facebook

Records show that Davis had three children and one of them, Charlotte, married John Edge in 1833 at Christ Church. The church’s marriage record listed the abbreviation “col’d” after Charlotte’s name, but Lowry said Edge must surely have been a person of color as well, since North Carolina laws at the time prohibited intermarriage. Census records do not show Davis having a wife during this period.

There is no mention of Charlotte Davis after 1833, so Lowry assumes that she and her husband moved away from Elizabeth City, perhaps to a nearby town, or even joined the mass movement of people moving west to places like Ohio. He hopes to do more research to find an answer.

Lowry also found census records that reveal a confusing possibility for George Davis. In 1800, a “colored” man of the same name is listed in the county as owning four slaves, while records from 1810 and 1820 make no mention of slaves.

“It was not unusual for free colored men to have slaves around them,” he said. “So this could be our George. It could be a relative, or it could have nothing to do with anything at all.” He added, “I hope he didn’t own slaves. I know you have to be careful because you don’t want to project your own stuff onto the past.”

Cenci said everything the church has discovered so far has caused him to think more deeply about the church’s role in white-black relations in the decades before the Civil War. He assumes that the 1825 church, like the current 1856 church, must have had a gallery where slaves who attended church with their owners, as well as any freed blacks or mixed-race people, were required to sit. “I would like to know,” Cenci said, “if the Davises sat up there or down in one of the rented pews,” given their wealth?

What is known, however, is that after his death in 1822, George Davis sold his property to repay money he had borrowed from a wealthy white man in a nearby town. This is another indication that Davis was a respected citizen and someone to whom a white man would not hesitate to lend money.

Lowry believes the house was simply torn down and everything inside was moved to a small basement and covered with dirt. Even the planting of the memorial magnolia tree a century ago did not destroy what was left of Davis’ house.

The church board voted in mid-July to conduct an internal excavation to recover any items still buried in the churchyard. In collaboration with the Albemarle Museum, the congregation hopes to make the archaeological process of sifting and excavating accessible to church and community members, Cenci said.

“We hope this will be an opportunity for youth and adults to learn about our local history,” he said, adding that Lowry will oversee the project.

And from the old magnolia tree that was the starting point of this archaeological exploration, the community will make a wooden altar cross for Lent, according to Cenci.

— Melodie Woerman is a freelance reporter for the Episcopal News Service based in Kansas.