Breaking Chains: Slavery on Trial in the Oregon Territory

“My Children Held as Slaves”

72 “My Children Held as Slaves” Harriett’s death in 1851 seems to have galvanized Robin Holmes into taking action against Ford. Two of his children were dead, and he and his wife had little hope of ever being reunited with their three children in Missouri. On April 16, 1852, Holmes filed for a writ of habeas corpus in Second District Court in Polk County to require Ford to appear in court, with Holmes’ three children to explain why he was holding them.1 Holmes’ subsequent testimony would strongly suggest he blamed Ford for Harriet’s death and wanted to rescue the other children before something happened to them. How Holmes came to file his suit is a matter of conjecture. Was he encouraged by a friend, a neighbor, perhaps someone who had witnessed his despair? At the time of Holmes’ suit, there were no laws in Oregon prohibiting African Americans from filing a lawsuit or testifying in court, against whites.2 We know Holmes was someone who stood up for himself and his family. But think of the odds. He had lived his life as a slave, raised in a slave culture, bought and sold at the whim of others, unable to read or write. He was up against a powerful man with powerful connections, recently elected to the territorial legislature. Yet, despite all, Holmes was a risk taker. This would be evident again years later when he and wife would be among a handful of African Americans, all former slaves, who integrated a white church in Salem. Prior to bringing his suit, Holmes had had several angry exchanges with Ford over custody of Holmes’ children. Most likely these occurred at Ford’s home. We don’t know what was said, but we might guess how they started. Did Holmes arrive on foot, or by wagon, to confront Ford, who, after a shouting match, ordered Holmes to leave? Was it during one of these arguments that Ford threatened to seize the entire Holmes family under the new Fugitive Slave Act, and return them to slavery in Missouri? Did Holmes go in anger and frustration directly from Ford’s home to the Polk County courthouse, a new two-story wood building in Dallas, and enter unannounced into the prosecuting attorney’s office to seek help?3 If so, he may well have been greeted with curiosity, even suspicion. Here was a black man, possibly ill-dressed in work clothes, covered with dust from the gristmill, unable to write his own name, and probably knowing little or nothing about legal procedures. One can imagine a clerk trying to shoo him away, ignoring the man’s simple plea to help him get his children back. “My Children Held as Slaves” d D 73 Someone then, or earlier, or later, did take him in hand. That someone apparently was Reuben P. Boise, the prosecuting attorney for the Oregon Territory. A native of Massachusetts and a graduate of Williams College, Boise arrived in Oregon in 1851. He had traveled mostly by ship, with a land crossing at the Isthmus of Panama. After briefly practicing law in Portland, he settled on a donation land claim of six hundred and forty acres at Nesmith Mills in 1852. Along with his law practice and judicial career, he was a farmer. It would be easy to romanticize a possible scene in Boise’s office. While sitting at his desk on a warm afternoon in early spring, he hears Holmes pleading for help and resisting the clerk’s attempts to get him to leave. At thirty-one years of age, Boise is new in his position, appointed prosecuting attorney only weeks earlier by the territorial legislature. He is from Massachusetts, a hotbed of abolitionist sentiment. This could be his first case, an important one—no slavery case has yet come before Oregon’s territorial courts. He lives within ten miles of Ford’s farm and no doubt knows who Ford is. Perhaps he doesn’t care for Ford because he is a slave owner. Whatever it is that motivates him, he asks Holmes to come in and sit down. Reuben Boise, the prosecuting attorney who handled former slave Robin Holmes’ case against Nathaniel Ford. Boise later became a prominent member of Oregon’s Supreme Court. (Oregon Historical Society) 74 d D Breaking Chains All that could be true, some of it true, or maybe none of it...