This 1856 Portrait Looked Peaceful — Until Historians Noticed What the Enslaved Child Was Holding

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The Hidden Key: A Story of Courage and Resistance

In February 2024, Dr. James Crawford sat in the Library of Congress, poring over a collection of antebellum photographs. He had been cataloging these historical treasures for eight months, but one particular daguerreotype caught his attention and changed everything. The image, dated September 1856, depicted the Caldwell family of Richmond, Virginia. Thomas Caldwell and his wife, Elellanena, posed proudly beside their two daughters, dressed in elaborate white dresses. The opulence of their surroundings was evident, with heavy velvet curtains and polished mahogany furniture.

But to the right of the family stood a young Black boy, perhaps seven or eight years old. He wore simple cotton clothing, and his bare feet contrasted starkly against the plush carpet. His posture was stiff, his face serious, and his eyes were cast down. As James examined the photograph, he noticed something unusual about the boy’s right hand. It was not relaxed; instead, it seemed to be holding something tightly.

Intrigued, James zoomed in on the boy’s hand. What he discovered sent a chill down his spine. Partially concealed between the boy’s fingers was a small metal object—a key. The realization hit him like a punch. This child, Benjamin, had stood still for the long exposure required by daguerreotype photography while secretly clutching a key that could unlock shackles. A moment of horror washed over him as he considered the implications. What had this young enslaved boy planned? What did the key unlock?

James knew he had to find answers. He spent the next three days digging into the Caldwell family’s history. The Virginia Historical Society held extensive records about the family, revealing that Thomas Caldwell was a prominent tobacco merchant in antebellum Richmond. His meticulous business ledgers documented not just financial transactions but also the human lives he owned, including Benjamin.

Benjamin was listed as a “house servant,” the son of Rachel, the cook, and Samuel, a field worker who had died two years prior. The ledger entry simply noted “deceased,” a stark reminder of how enslaved people were treated as property rather than human beings. James’s heart ached as he read about Benjamin’s father, who had likely been killed for resisting the brutal system of slavery.

He found a household inventory from 1856 that detailed the contents of the Caldwell mansion. Among the tools and supplies in the basement were notations for restraints, shackles, and chains. The key Benjamin held could have unlocked those very shackles, and James felt a surge of anger at the thought of what this boy had endured.

Then he stumbled upon a letter from Elellanena Caldwell to her sister in Charleston, dated August 1856. In it, she complained about Benjamin’s behavior, describing him as “sullen and disobedient” since the death of his father. Thomas Caldwell insisted on maintaining discipline, threatening to sell Benjamin if his attitude did not improve. The gravity of the situation sank in. Benjamin had witnessed his father’s punishment and was now facing the threat of being sold away from his mother.

James’s mind raced with possibilities. What had Benjamin intended to do with the key? Had he planned to free himself or perhaps even help others escape? The more he learned, the more he felt compelled to uncover the truth.

After the photograph was taken, Benjamin was caught with the key. James discovered an entry in Thomas Caldwell’s diary from October 12, 1856, just weeks later. It read, “Discovered theft of basement key. Investigated and found evidence of tampering with storage locks. Benjamin questioned. Severe measures required to maintain order.” The boy was to be sold south immediately.

The realization hit James hard. Benjamin had been caught trying to escape or help others escape, and as a result, he faced the ultimate punishment—separation from his mother and a life of brutal labor in the deep South. But what had happened after that? James needed to trace Benjamin’s story further.

He reached out to Dr. Monica Price, an expert in antebellum slave records. Together, they delved into the records of the Devo Plantation in Louisiana, where Benjamin had been sold. The plantation’s ledgers confirmed that he had worked there for several months before being purchased by a free woman of color named Josephine Lauron in March 1857.

Josephine was a remarkable woman who had inherited her freedom and used her resources to help enslaved people. James discovered letters between Josephine and Rachel, Benjamin’s mother, revealing a network of support and resistance. Rachel had managed to send word to Josephine about her son, asking for help.

As James pieced together the story, he found that Benjamin had not only survived but thrived under Josephine’s care. She educated him, teaching him to read and write, and planned to free him when it was safe. In a letter dated June 1857, Josephine wrote to Rachel, saying, “Your boy thrives. He learns his letters with remarkable speed. He speaks often of you and his father.”

James felt a surge of hope. Benjamin had not only escaped the horrors of the Devo Plantation but had also been given the chance to learn and grow. However, he still needed to find out what happened to Rachel after the war.

The records showed that Rachel had become a Union spy during the Civil War, using her position in the Caldwell household to gather intelligence for the Union Army. She had fought back against the very system that had oppressed her family. In May 1865, after the war ended, Rachel sought information about Benjamin, eager to reunite with her son.

James discovered a letter from Benjamin to the pastor of First African Baptist Church in Richmond, written in October 1865. In it, he described the joyous reunion with his mother after nine years apart. “We embraced for the first time,” he wrote. “The years of separation cannot be reclaimed, but we’re together now and both free.”

James sat back, overwhelmed with emotion. The story of Benjamin and Rachel was one of resilience, courage, and love. They had fought against the odds, and their bond had endured despite the brutalities of slavery.

Years passed, and Benjamin became a respected educator and civil rights advocate in New Orleans, continuing his family’s legacy of resistance and empowerment. He married, had children, and instilled in them the importance of education and freedom.

James’s research culminated in a powerful exhibition at the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture, showcasing Benjamin’s story and the hidden narratives of resistance within antebellum photographs. The exhibition featured the daguerreotype of Benjamin as a child, holding the key that symbolized his courage and the fight for freedom.

The impact of the exhibition was profound. Visitors were moved by the story of a seven-year-old boy who had risked everything to help others escape slavery. James’s work inspired a new understanding of the complexities of slavery, highlighting the strength and agency of those who resisted.

In the end, Benjamin’s legacy lived on, reminding future generations that even in the darkest times, hope and resilience could prevail. The key he once held became a symbol of freedom, a testament to the power of education, and a reminder that every individual has the capacity to make a difference.