45 pages • 1 hour read
Tiya MilesA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
In 2007, at a flea market in a suburb of Nashville, an eBay reseller came upon a sack in a bundle of assorted antique textiles. Recognizing the potential significance of the object, she purchased the lot for approximately $20. Her subsequent internet searches led her to the Middleton Place Foundation, the present-day name adopted by the organization that operates Middleton Place Plantation. The Middletons, whose descendants were still involved in the administration of Middleton Place at the time of the publication of All That She Carried, date their presence in South Carolina to the late 17th century, having amassed wealth through slavery beginning 100 years before the American Revolution. Middleton Place is nestled in the heart of the South Carolina Lowcountry, the southeastern region of the state comprising most of its coastline.
Early planters populated this rich landscape beginning in the 1660s, with permission to settle granted by King George of England, who had presumed ownership of the “new” world. These colonists followed a model of exploiting slave labor first honed in Barbados under the brutal conditions on sugar plantations that maximized both material profits and human suffering. Enslaved people were forcibly transported to colonial South Carolina, joining the Indigenous residents of the region, who were also forced into human bondage by European colonizers. First rice and then cotton were cultivated in this fertile territory, increasing the wealth of these original planters exponentially and securing generations of wealth for their descendants. The regional history of the sack is inextricable from its significance and provides the context for its legacy.
In exchange for $300 and a lifetime membership to the museum, Middleton Place acquired the artifact and placed it on display. Miles states, “The complicating dynamics of race in processes of museum collecting, philanthropy, and stewardship become, like all the phases of this artifact’s rich history, part of the story of the sack” (37), such that the story of Ashley’s Sack is still being written through its custodianship. Displayed at Middleton Place from 2007 to 2010, Ashley’s Sack joined the collection at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture when it opened in 2016. While Miles emphatically endorses the installation of Ashley’s Sack at the Smithsonian, at the time of the publication of All That She Carried it was only on loan, with Middleton Place retaining ownership. As a result, Miles states, the sack “still carries a burden of layered power relationships” (40).
How the sack found its way from 20th-century Philadelphia to early-21st-century Nashville remains a mystery. The Smithsonian dates the fabric to the 1850s, presumed to trace back to the Ashley River region of South Carolina, but not directly to Middleton Place. Middleton Place’s exhibition card accompanying Ashley’s Sack cited a woman named Rose among the list of enslaved people held in bondage by the Middleton family, but the staff’s efforts failed to extend outside of the organization’s records to identify a child named Ashley.
When Miles began her process of locating Rose in the historical records available, she encountered the frustrating injustice of being forced to rely on those records kept for and by enslavers to chronicle their lives, rather than evidence left by Black women themselves. The truths of Rose’s own life remain obscured even in the 21st century behind the authority still held over her story by those who enslaved her. Miles engaged in a kind of historical detective work as she combed through the archives of centuries-old paper documents. While the name Rose was commonplace among enslaved women in 19th-century South Carolina, the name Ashley was not. Only three enslaved women named Ashley appear in the archives during the period relevant to Ashley’s Sack, and only one slaveholder owned both an enslaved woman named Ruth and an enslaved child named Ashley at the time of the sack’s production.
Mother and child were counted as part of the estate of Robert Martin, Charleston “factor” turned “planter.” As Miles diligently discloses, while the likelihood is extremely high that this Ashley and Rose are the very same as those memorialized on Ruth’s sack, there is a slim possibility that they are not the same two people. Scholars concur with Miles’s assertion, however, and it is widely accepted in the academic community that has worked closely with Ashley’s Sack that the Rose and Ashley of the Martin estate have been correctly identified as the mother and daughter in question. The wealthier and more influential a planter, the more documentation has typically survived from their personal effects. As a “self-made” planter, Robert Martin, as a kind of nouveau riche planter, is the subject of less thorough documentation, leaving less for Miles to work with as she sought to confirm her findings.
Robert Martin and his family spent most of their time at their home at 16 Charlotte Street in Charleston, South Carolina, the Greek Revival house he built in the 1830s. Martin also owned at least one plantation, known as Milberry Place, named after his wife, Milberry Serena. It was Milberry, as executor of Martin’s will, who began the legal procedure of dividing and liquidating Robert’s estate after his death. In an inventory after his death, Rose is listed as a domestic servant in his Charleston household, her assigned value at $700 indicating that she had some kind of special skill, likely in sewing or culinary arts. Frequently, notations detailing familial relationships between enslaved persons were omitted from enslavers’ estate records, so the lack of mention of Rose as Ashley’s mother does not refute their relationship.
Lists organized by “family” that did exist in slaveholder record books were based on slaveholder conceptualizations of family units and their own priorities; family groupings may have reflected biological relationships or could have been a reference to those living in the same dwellings. Relational groups that were not exclusively biological but rather chosen, close-knit groups of elective family were known as “fictive kin.” Ashley’s paternity is not mentioned in Ruth’s immortalization of the narrative of the sack. Her story bears a matrilineal focus. There is a possibility that Ashley’s father may have been one of the enslaved men living at the Charleston house with Rose. It is also consistent with historically pervasive sexual abuses of enslaved women that Ashley’s father could have been one of the Martins, perhaps even Robert himself, or another white man Rose encountered.
Ashley is not listed among the enslaved people living at the Charleston house; she was living at Milberry Place at the time of Martin’s death. It is likely, however, that Ashley and Rose were able to spend some of their time together; just as property holders like Martin would frequently visit their different residences at intervals during the year, enslaved people were shuttled to different properties within a planter’s estate for various purposes. Although they were separated by location, before Robert Martin’s death it seems that Rose at least knew where her daughter was and could anticipate time spent with her. Her terror at the prospect of losing the meager comfort of at least knowing where her daughter was must have been insurmountable for Rose.
With the advent of Robert Martin’s death, Rose and Ashley were experiencing an event in the lives of enslaved people that would have loomed in their minds as an ever-present possibility. Enslaved people were always at risk of being sold or transferred to another property belonging to their enslaver or their acquaintances for indeterminate periods. However, the death of an enslaver, that individual designated as their actual “owner,” inevitably triggered reverberations throughout the entire enslaved population of the enslaver’s estate.
Both their blood relations and their “fictive kin” were essential support systems for enslaved people, and they had to contend with not only the heartbreak of their separation from their loved ones but also the notion of their unknown future. No matter how terrible conditions were for an enslaved person, the fear persisted that their circumstances could always be worse, and this very real possibility was a constant threat. Rose and Ashley lived it. As a museum exhibit, Ashley’s Sack humanizes this experience for historians and museum-goers.
Miles observes that while all US citizens know about the centuries of slavery in the United States, the conscious, intentional process of engaging with that past, of choosing to delve into a perspective impossible to truly appreciate, is a more deliberate exercise that should be intentionally undertaken. This highlights the theme of Social Responsibility for Marginalized Experience. In the possession of Middleton Place, though it was not the specific site of Rose and Ashley’s enslavement, Ashley’s Sack was displayed among the Middletons’ collection of fine art, antiques, china, and personal documents, all testaments to the wealth they accrued through their exploitation of forced labor of Black people.
Middleton Place controlled the narrative of Ashley’s Sack, and the price they paid for the sack, $300, was hauntingly the same amount assigned as Ashley’s value in Robert Middleton’s estate appraisal. As a long-term loan to the Smithsonian, not a gift, Ashley’s Sack remained under the ownership of Middleton Place at the time that All That She Carried was published, even though it was displayed by the National Museum of African American History and Culture.
Miles received cooperation from Middleton Place over the course of her research into Ashley’s Sack, but she attests to the injustice of the Middletons’ status as “owners” of such a central piece of African American history given Middleton Place’s history as a site of enslavement and human suffering. Middleton Place operates as a museum dedicated to representing its enslaved past. It is also available for weddings and special events and features a modern inn, gifted to the foundation in 2021, where Middleton Place hopes guests who stay will create years of good memories. Miles juxtaposes her insistence that the sack still carries the burden of layered power relations against Middleton Place’s perhaps conflicting objectives.
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