National Freedom Day kicks off Black History month, but it honors action by a bunch of white guys: On February 1, 1865, President Abraham Lincoln signed a joint House and Senate resolution abolishing slavery that later was ratified by the states as the 13th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. This was the follow-up to his Emancipation Proclamation—effective on January 1, 1863—which declared that the enslaved in Confederate-controlled areas were free.
None of these events got a Day until the next century. Major Richard Robert Wright Sr., born into slavery and freed after the Civil War, believed that there should be a day when freedom for all Americans is celebrated. In 1941, he invited national and local leaders to meet in Philadelphia to plan to designate February 1 as an annual memorial to the signing of the 13th Amendment. This is kind of amazing to me. The man was 86 when he decided to kick this into gear. I feel like finishing breakfast at 86 would be a major accomplishment. Unfortunately, Wright died before his dream became reality: Congress passed a bill naming February 1 as National Freedom Day in 1947, one year after Wright’s death. Harry Truman signed it into law a year after that, on June 30, 1948.
It was the forerunner to Black History Day. Black History Month was officially recognized in 1976, although recognition of black history had been initiated by historian Carter G. Woodson in 1926.
I find it interesting (maybe not surprising) that it took all these things so long to become reality—sort of the same way the 13thAmendment took so long to happen the first place.
But did you know that Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation was not the first edict freeing slaves in the United States? It wasn’t. The first one was a military proclamation issued by Major General John C. Frémont in 1861 in St. Louis. Frémont’s proclamation decreed that all property of those bearing arms in rebellion would be confiscated, including slaves, and that confiscated slaves would subsequently be declared free. Frémont said he was just trying to settle things down in Missouri, but this move had national repercussions, potentially creating the idea that the Civil War could be a war of liberation.
Lincoln learned about it from the newspaper—not really the way a commander-in-chief wants to hear about actions by one of his military generals. So it was a nasty surprise in all kinds of ways for Lincoln, who was balancing the agendas of Radical Republicans who favored abolition and slave-holding Unionists in the American border states whose support was essential in keeping the states of Missouri, Kentucky and Maryland in the Union.
Lincoln was in a tough spot: damned if he overruled it and damned if he didn’t. He tried to get Frémont to do it of his own volition; Frémont refused. Lincoln couldn’t let that insubordination go, but here again, he faced a political problem. Booting Frémont from his position over emancipation would also piss off radicals in Congress, so Lincoln rooted around for another reason to remove him. Lincoln sent cronies to get the unfavorable reports he wanted, got them, and removed Frémont from command.
There’s a lot more to this story, of course. My brilliant husband has written a whole book about it (The Pathfinder and the President, coming out in April). But there’s a lot more to Frémont than just this story, including a run for president in 1856 as the first Republican (also beating Lincoln to the punch there). My Brilliant husband has written a book about that, too. Everyone who has read this far: Leave me a brilliant comment (as determined by me) and one of you will get a signed copy of Lincoln’s Pathfinder!
