Slavery in Pennsylvania: A Dissertation Submitted to the Board of University Studies of the Johns Hopkins University in Conformity with the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy, 1910

In Short

This academic study meticulously reconstructs the history of slavery in Pennsylvania, examining how the institution took root, functioned, and ultimately withered away. By analyzing colonial statutes, tax records, and the moral influence of the Quaker and German communities, the work explains why Pennsylvania’s experience with slavery remained "mild" and small-scale compared to its neighbors. It serves as both a legal history and a social portrait, capturing a transitional era where moral conviction and economic pragmatism combined to make the state an early leader in the movement toward abolition.

The Story

Slavery in Pennsylvania did not arrive with the fanfare of a grand design; it emerged as an amorphous, de facto condition in the early days of settlement. Influenced by the "Duke of York's Laws" and the needs of a developing frontier, the practice of holding human beings for life slowly hardened into a recognized legal status. However, the institution was always an outlier. Unlike the plantation-heavy colonies of the South, Pennsylvania’s geography and industrial makeup—focused on small-scale farming and diversified trades—never necessitated large gangs of coerced labor. The average slaveholder in the region kept only one or two individuals, often integrating them into the household or the shop alongside white servants.

The arc of the institution is defined by a persistent tension between the desire for labor and a pervasive, creeping unease among the populace. The earliest legal codes were designed to manage this friction, creating special courts for the trial of enslaved people and establishing strict prohibitions against interracial marriage and movement. Yet, even as the law sought to define the slave as property, the social reality remained inconsistent. The Quakers, who held significant influence over the early legislature, began a long, internal transformation. Through their monthly meetings, they moved from merely questioning the trade to actively disciplining members who bought or sold human beings. Simultaneously, the steady influx of German settlers—many of whom held deep-seated religious and cultural objections to slavery—further limited the institution's reach.

By the mid-eighteenth century, the legal and social walls around slavery were beginning to crumble. The state government, pressured by a public increasingly uncomfortable with the trade, imposed duties on the importation of enslaved people, effectively acting as a throttle on the system. The culmination of this decades-long drift came in 1780 with the passage of the Act for the Gradual Abolition of Slavery. This landmark law, championed by figures like George Bryan, did not instantly free everyone, but it ensured the institution could no longer renew itself. Children born to enslaved women after the act were to be treated as servants for a fixed term rather than property for life, and the remaining enslaved population was subjected to strict registration requirements.

The final years of the institution were characterized by a "peaceful passing away." As the enslaved population dwindled, the legal protections for the remaining individuals actually increased, reflecting a society moving toward freedom. By the early nineteenth century, slavery in the state was a vestige of the past, often reduced to a relationship based on the care of elderly individuals who had known the master’s household for a lifetime. The state had effectively neutralized the institution, not through cataclysmic revolution, but through a slow, steady, and inevitable erosion of its moral and economic foundation.

How It Unfolds

The emergence of bondage Slavery in the region begins as a vague, undefined practice, likely inherited from earlier Dutch and Swedish settlers. It lacks a clear, singular origin point but becomes legally distinct when the 1700 statute subjects enslaved people to separate courts and harsher, specialized penalties.

The limits of the system The institution is constrained by the nature of Pennsylvania's economy, which favors small holdings over large plantations. The influence of the Quaker meetings and the German immigrant population creates a persistent, quiet resistance that prevents slavery from ever gaining significant traction.

The legal crackdown Legislative efforts to regulate and then discourage the slave trade move from indifference to outright obstruction. By imposing duties and strict manumission requirements, the government begins to treat slavery as a social burden that the state must manage and eventually eliminate.

The mandate for abolition The 1780 Act for the Gradual Abolition of Slavery acts as the final blow, effectively killing the institution while allowing for a slow transition. By ending the hereditary nature of slavery, the state ensures that the practice will vanish within a generation.

The People

The history is shaped by the collective actions of groups rather than the whims of single protagonists, though specific figures stand as catalysts. William Penn remains a significant, if complex, figure whose own changing relationship with his enslaved laborers reflects the broader evolution of the period. George Bryan serves as the primary legislative architect of the 1780 abolition act, embodying the shift from moral discomfort to state-sponsored policy. Anthony Benezet acts as the tireless agitator, visiting every member of the Assembly to ensure the abolition bill had the necessary support. Meanwhile, the Quaker community functions as a central, moral force; they transition from cautious observers to active crusaders, using the power of religious discipline to force their members away from slave-owning. The German settlers, though less vocal in their opposition, act as a decisive economic force simply by refusing to participate in the trade, thereby preventing the "plantation mentality" from taking hold. These individuals and groups, often at odds with the economic realities of their time, ultimately succeed in creating a society where the ownership of human beings becomes a moral and social impossibility.

In Its Own Voice

"In general it may be said that they were owned in the English, Welsh, and Scotch-Irish communities; the Germans as a rule held no slaves."

This observation highlights the demographic and cultural divide that determined where the institution of slavery could take hold in the colony.

"Whenever men can treat their slaves as men in Pennsylvania treated them, they are living in a moral atmosphere inconsistent with the holding of slaves."

The author concludes that the inherent kindness of the local system made its own preservation logically impossible.

What It's Really About

The central argument is that slavery in Pennsylvania was doomed by a misalignment between the institution and the state’s socio-economic environment. The book contends that when slavery cannot be supported by the "paramount economic needs" of a plantation-based economy, it inevitably yields to the moral and social pressures of a free-labor society. Underlying this is a deeper question: to what extent can law change morality, and to what extent must morality dictate law? The narrative suggests that in Pennsylvania, the law acted as a reflection of a society that had already begun to reject the commodification of human beings, proving that a peaceful, gradual transition away from such an institution is possible when the environment is not fundamentally dependent on it.

Why Read It Today

This work is for the reader who enjoys the patient, unhurried pace of early twentieth-century academic prose. It offers a rare window into a specific regional history that is often overshadowed by the more dramatic conflicts of the American South. The writing is precise and deeply researched, relying on a wealth of archival data, such as tax records, church logs, and meeting minutes, to build its case.

Modern readers should be prepared for the author's period-specific perspectives; he describes the system as "mild" and "fortunate" for the enslaved, a framing that reflects the scholarly attitudes of 1910 rather than contemporary sensibilities. While these viewpoints are undeniably dated and limited, the book remains a valuable historical artifact. It does not attempt to moralize for the reader; instead, it presents a vast array of primary source evidence that allows the reader to see the mechanisms of change in action. You will walk away from this book with a clear, granular understanding of how a social institution can be dismantled, and how the values of a community—in this case, the quiet influence of the Quakers and the self-reliant industry of the Germans—can steer the course of history toward a more equitable end.