The Ragged Road to Abolition: Slavery and Freedom in New Jersey, 1775–1865 by James J. Gigantino II (review)

There is a certain in-between-ness to New Jersey’s history with the institution of slavery. Even though we generally think of New Jersey as a “free” state, historians have often reminded us that as late as the census of 1860 the state contained eighteen “apprentices for life,” slaves in all but name. Some historians have suggested, though, that focusing too much on these eighteen individuals risks overstating the persistence and resilience of slavery in the Garden State; we should instead, they argue, focus on the tens of thousands of free blacks counted in that same census. In this thoughtful book, James Gigantino challenges the notion that slavery was peripheral to New Jersey in the decades between the Revolution and the Civil War. Slavery, he argues, endured far longer in the state than it is often believed, and the persistence of slavery continued to shape relationships between white and black residents of New Jersey, even after most black New Jerseyans escaped into the quasi-freedom that followed formal slavery.

Borrowing from historian Daniel Richter, Gigantino challenges us to “stand on the Mason-Dixon Line and look north” (6) in order to better understand the importance of slavery in New Jersey. Viewing New Jersey in light of the robust slave society that flourished from the Chesapeake to the Gulf of Mexico (and beyond) in these years risks making New Jersey slavery seem unimportant. Gigantino wants us instead to see slaveholding in New Jersey as a part of a varied and persistent system whereby white northerners continued to exploit black labor long after northern states, including New Jersey, claimed to have abolished slavery.

The book begins in the Revolutionary era. In Gigantino’s telling, New Jersey challenges traditional narratives about how the American Revolution led to emancipation. While thousands of enslaved New Jerseyans took advantage of the chaos of war to flee from their masters, many of them finding protection in the British lines, this same chaos led to a backlash among white New Jerseyans, undermining the movement for legal emancipation that succeeded elsewhere. The critical element here is New Jersey’s position as one of the prime battlegrounds of the Revolution. The destruction wrought by the war on New Jersey’s economy led many whites to fear doing more damage by abolishing slavery. Additionally, the war experience, especially the presence of black British regiments, made many white New Jerseyans susceptible to fears that abolition would inevitably lead to violent retribution against former masters. Thus, Gigantino argues, the Revolution led to the deeper entrenchment of slavery, not its abolition.

Critical to Gigantino’s analysis is a persistent divide within the state, a divide going back to the founding of New Jersey as two separate colonies. West Jersey, with its strong Quaker influence and connection to Philadelphia, saw the rise of significant antislavery sentiment. However, the powerful slaveholders of East Jersey were generally successful in thwarting most of the antislavery ambitions of the west. As a result, abolition came later to New Jersey than it did elsewhere in the North, and it came haltingly. As Gigantino notes, “more likely than not, anyone born a slave in New Jersey would die a slave” (117). Manumission often led not to “freedom” but to other forms of white domination. As a result, New Jersey did not see a sharp break from slavery; black labor continued to exist on a continuum of unfreedom.

One of the best features of the book is that in its careful examination of how slavery persisted in New Jersey it illuminates how abolition unfolded in different ways elsewhere. This helps make the book of interest to those who may not have any particular interest in New Jersey itself. For example, New Jersey’s celebration of its slaveholding past presents a rather stark contrast to what some historians have seen in New...