The word for the day is “escheat.”
And by “day”, I probably should pick a day from a long time ago. Let’s try January 14, 1324 (why not?), since the word “escheat” goes back to the days of feudalism, when kings (as powerful landholders) would grant land to nobles in exchange for certain duties and obligations. If a noble died without a legal heir, that land could revert back to the king, so the process could start over again.
This process of reversion is referred to as escheatment, and the English crown held the right of escheat.
After the United States became a nation, in the state of (former English colony) North Carolina, escheatment was a right held by the state. If a property owner died without heirs, the property reverted to the state. What happened to this property is clearly described in North Carolina’s state constitution:
“all the property which has heretofore accrued to the State, or shall hereafter accrue from escheats, unclaimed dividends, or distributive shares of the estates of deceased persons shall be appropriated to the use of the University.”
This university was the University of North Carolina, which was established late in 1789 in the town of Chapel Hill. This institution was the first public university in the United States.
From this time on, there existed an Escheat Fund containing the unclaimed or unclaimable assets of dead North Carolinians. By 1971, the fund contained over $4 million.
Is this significant? What does this have to do with African-American History in North Carolina, or with the title of this blog?
Good questions deserve answers. Yes, this is significant, and it is definitely relevant in understanding the experiences of African Americans living and dying in the Tar Heel State.
First, the University of North Carolina included only one campus until 1931, when the Consolidated University of North Carolina was expanded to include the institutions identified today as North Carolina State University and the University of North Carolina–Greesnboro. This means that the Escheat Fund assisted only traditionally white schools until 1971, when the General Assembly established the modern day University of North Carolina system, adding other state institutions, including Elizabeth City State, Fayetteville State, North Carolina Central, Winston-Salem State, and North Carolina A&T State University.
Throughout their histories, these five historically black public institutions received less than their fair share of state appropriations. Not only that, but they could not enjoy in the Escheat Fund either.
In other words, for most of the history of the Escheat Fund in North Carolina, the state’s African Americans were, well, cheated.
Let’s take this one step further–UNC-Chapel Hill, despite its progressive reputation, actively resisted the matriculation of African Americans. It was not until 1951 that the first African Americans were able to enroll in the university’s prestigious graduate programs, and not until 1955 that undergraduates of color were allowed to wear Tar Heel blue as students.
Such permission came only as a result of legal pressure. It wasn’t as if these students were made to feel desired or cherished. UNC wasted a great deal of resources trying to keep them out. For many years African Americans were paying taxes in part to fund a flagship university that they were unable to attend.
How many were cheated out of a first-rate education?
Let’s take this one more (uncomfortable) step further. And, yes, I do mean uncomfortable. Unfortunately, that comes along with the territory that consists of past terrain.
As I said earlier, around $4 million had made its way into the Escheat Fund by 1971. That was a lot of money in 1971 (still is!), but if one looks at the long history of the fund, much of that money came into the fund well before a quarter was seen as mere pocket change. Throughout much of the time between 1789 and 1971, two bits MEANT something. We can surmise, therefore, that the Escheat Fund consisted of a lot of estates, and a great deal of property.
When we think of property today, we generally picture homes, cars, and maybe boats. Maybe some large chunks of land. When people list items in their wills, they will include said items, and perhaps some family heirlooms, like rare and expensive collectibles, or even some one-of-a-kind items. But there is one thing that we will NOT see in a will, or in a list of property.
Human beings.
Human beings indeed.
Yes, in 2019 we (thankfully) do not see human beings listed as property. But that was not always that way, as we all know.
Fact is, wills in antebellum North Carolina often included slaves as property to be passed down to heirs. And, correspondingly, we may properly surmise that sometimes property owners who owned slaves as property died without a will, and when that happened, that that person’s property reverted to the state to be sold, with the proceeds going to the University of North Carolina (at Chapel Hill).
To what degree did slaves help build the University of North Carolina? Even if they never set foot in Chapel Hill.
I know of no study or dissertation that has properly studied the history of the Escheat Fund in North Carolina. I cannot say for sure at the moment how many slaves were included as a part of the property that escheated to the state of North Carolina and ultimately to UNC.
I wish I knew. I wish I had the time to find out.
We do know that over 350,000 slaves total were emancipated by the end of the Civil War. Many more before them were cheated out of any opportunity to enjoy freedom.
What I do know, however, is that slaves WERE included as property whose value was added to a Fund that no African American could enjoy until the early 1950’s. Those who want to learn more can click below:
This is part one of a two part series on slavery and wills. Next time we will look at a will and see a different side of slavery in northeastern North Carolina.