African-American Staff at EHS: James F. Jackson

Way before the decision on integration in 1968, Episcopal High School started hiring African American staff after the end of the Civil War. Many of the staff had a close tie to the African American community in Fort Ward, just across West Braddock Road. They served as waiters, construction workers, chefs, drivers, dairymen, and couriers for Episcopal, and many of them worked with the EHS administration and students closely. We dedicate these two pages to the untold stories of some of these African American staff, and through it, to unfold the interesting dynamics between them and EHS administration and students, and to acknowledge their behind-the-scenes service to the community. The first page will feature the well-recorded story of an important African American staff member to Episcopal, James F. Jackson.

Screen Shot 2018-11-07 at 11.15.46 AM.png

The 1860 Census Record of Captain John Scott, the former master of James Jackson

43004_162028006073_0093-00340.jpg

Death certificate of James Jackson that reveals his age and family members.

James F. Jackson was born in Fauquier County, Virginia as a slave to Captain John Scott of Warrenton, Virginia. We do not know much about his early family life. According to his death certificate, his father was named “Andrew Jackson” (born around 1815). His mother was called “Maria Martin” and subsequently “Mary Jackson” after the marriage. James Jackson had at least one sibling named Lavenia Jackson. The 1860 census (slave schedule) revealed that Captain John Scott owned at least 7 slaves (1 fugitive and 6 housed). We do not know his exact day or year of birth. His death certificate claims that he was born in 1862, and different census and marriage records stated “December 1848,” “1842,” and “1845.” 

During the Civil War, John Scott served as the first captain of the Black Horse Cavalry and a proponent of this Lost Cause Mythology, as the author of The Lost Principle and a Life of Mosby that painted confederate ideal and officers positively. According to the yearbook dedication, James Jackson was a “body servant” to Captain Scott, and he was not freed until the end of the Civil War.

Screen Shot 2018-10-29 at 3.40.02 PM.jpg

Photo of James Jackson at Fort Ward. Elizabeth Henry Douglas recalls that "Uncle Jim" Jackson (right) dug graves with "Uncle Fred" Rust (center) and "Uncle Simon" Reed (left).

Courtesy Dorothy Hall Smith, daughter of Mary Wans(z)er Jackson Hall and David Hall.

The institution of the “ticket system” was particularly interesting. While in essence, it worked the same way as the cash payment system--in fact, even more complicated and less efficient--, it seemed to fit the psyche of the White students in the New South better. One reason could be that the students simply assumed the African Americans inherently obedient and their services inherently free. It could also be related to the dynamics behind commercial exchange in a racialized context of the Jim Crow South. An exact exchange of money for services between a white and black man would place the two at a equal level. The students might have, thus, felt the need to establish an unequal relationship in which they could trade worthless paper for services. Lastly, as Kenneth Greenberg pointed out in his book, Honor and Slavery, many elite white men in the early Jim Crow South retained the paternalistic mindset of the master class in the Old South, that White men should play the paternal figure to “provide” for the African Americans. Therefore, supposedly, the relationship between White and Black supposedly would be an imbalanced one-way gift giving. Giving Jackson tickets instead of cash money took away the “business” nature of the exchange and renders the exchange less as a trade and more as a reward for Jackson’s work.

Screen Shot 2018-11-07 at 11.27.00 AM.png

The student group picture in the school year of 1920-1921. James Jackson can be found at the right end of the photo, apart from the student body.

The implementation of the ticket system reflected one of the biggest contradiction of the Jim Crow South between consumerism and segregation. The ticket system would most certainly prove to be less efficient than paying cash up front, but it had to be created and maintained for the reason of manifesting racial inequality. For either reason that it was created, the implementation of the ticket system revealed a general patronizing attitude, and for the young adults at Episcopal who started to build their own worldview, their attitudes toward race developed at this critical time might have determined what their belief in the rest of their life.

Screen Shot 2018-11-07 at 11.26.50 AM.png Screen Shot 2018-11-07 at 11.26.42 AM.png

The Whisper dedication to James Jackson, Uncle Jim Jackson, a Landmark, also reflected some students’ stance on race and the Lost Cause. The dedication describes James Jackson as a “hoary-headed old darkey,” a former slave who “retains the most unbounded reverence and affection” to his “ole marster” John Scott, and “a type of servant” reminiscent of “a regime whose characteristics courtliness of manner and of nobility of thought and action.” The regime students refer to might be the plantation regime of the Old South or the Confederacy during the Civil War, but either way, through their depiction of Jackson as an obedient servant, the students painted past with a glorifying tint as an ideal that had been lost. Interestingly, in spite of its formal nature, the Whisper dedication referred to James Jackson with his nickname “Jim” or an even more colloquial “Uncle Jim.” The dedication justified its use as simply a more “affectionately known” name, but historian Edward Ayer argues that “the ritual of black naming conveyed various shades of deference, condescension, affection, and respect,” becoming itself a social message. Blacks had to address unknown white men as “mister” or “boss,” while whites never addressed black as “mister”, but rather as “boy,” “negro,” or, in this case, “Uncle Jim.” The naming ritual reveals the social dynamics within the Episcopal community towards African American staff members.

Screen Shot 2018-11-07 at 4.41.58 PM.png Screen Shot 2018-11-07 at 11.27.07 AM.png

School Portrait of James Jackson, 1918-1919.

Jackson and Launcelot Minor Blackford, EHS Head of School between 1870 and 1913 had a strong but nonetheless unequal relationship. Like many African Americans, Jackson strived for his own land and house off campus, and Blackford lent money to Jackson for the purchase. As recorded on the Fairfax Deed Book and researched by the Fort Ward Museum, in 1884, James Jackson purchased “the largest parcel” in Fort Ward community--11.5 acres of land on the "western slope of a bank of Fort Ward”--with “$300.” Unfortunately, his house was destroyed by fire in 1891. Alexandria Gazette detailed the fire, stating that Jackson’s dwelling was “entirely destroyed,” but the insurance covered approximately $300 of the $400 loss. The fire also destroyed Blackford’s checks, through which he lent money to Jackson. During her research, Krystyn R. Moon found the following account in Blackford’s diary:

“A night enjoyed some time with McClelland hunting up some checks amounting in all to $306 among my cancelled reserve which proved the payment in 1887-89-90 for the land on which he [Jackson] now lives. The receipt had been destroyed when his house was burnt and Mr. H. O. Claughton the lawyer who received the money professed to McClelland that he remembered nothing of the transaction. It was James Jackson who bought the land and used checks.”

The question became: why had Blackford showed so much generosity to Jackson’s purchases, while he often complained about Jackson working “too very slowly” or his drinking habit. Possibly, Blackford saw himself as an old time paternal figure to the school and the African American staff on campus. Once again, the gift-giving relationship and criticism of Jackson reinforced the moral superiority of Blackford.

It was unknown whether Blackford continued to financially support Jackson after the fire and whether Jackson paid Blackford back eventually, but James F. Jackson managed to rebuild his house in the Fort Ward community. In an interview completed in 1994 as part of the Alexandria Oral History Program, Dorothy Hall Smith, granddaughter of James Jackson, described her memory of her grandparents’ house as a child. In her recollection, the Jackson house was “modern” and ornate, including a “front porch across the whole of the front,” three bedrooms upstair, and a dining room with “big ornate furniture” such as  “china closet [and] chandelier.”

Smith spoke very fondly of the house, “This house was built very modern, compared to the other homes there. Yes. So it had he latest... It was a very nice home...The house was well taken care of, and it was really looked at as something special in the neighborhood...The house stood out. It was really, I would say, an upper-class home for blacks, at that time.” In some sense, the distinguishing size and design of the house exemplified the social status of the Jackson family. To a certain extent, despite that the school did not fully appreciate James Jackson’s service to the community, his relationship with the school allowed him to advance socioeconomically.

African-American Staff at EHS: James F. Jackson