In 19^th century America, scarce were enslaved African Americans able to read or write. Slaveholders, fearing that the ability to read and write would lead enslaved Blacks to revolt or escape, passed laws prohibiting teaching enslaved Blacks to read and write (Moss, 2010)¹ . Consequently, few enslaved Blacks were able to read and write², which led to limited writings from enslaved Blacks about slavery and/or their experiences³.  However, adopting  a contemporary understanding of literacy, I contend that enslaved Blacks were able to read, write, and communicate in forms/languages that trained minds could read and understand.  A contemporary definition of literacy espoused by the New London Group⁴,  views literacy as the ability to both recognize and produce meaning in given semiotic domains, or spaces such as pictures (Steinkuehler, 2007). I use this understanding of literacy  to make sense of Flora's portrait, and read her portrait as an autobiography.

The New London Group (1996) embraces a broader view of literacy called multiliteracies, which emphasizes the multiplicity of communications channels and the increasing cultural and linguistic diversity in the world.  I argue that photographs/pictures are spaces where enslaved Blacks engaged in literacy practices, wrote their stories and shared their experiences. For this reason, I approach photographs/pictures/portraits of Blacks in the 19^th century as personal narratives, autobiographical texts that situate these photographs/portraits into 19^th century scholarship and provide a historical context that could also be relevant for historical ethnography⁵. These photographs/portraits are literary contributions of enslaved Blacks to 19^th century scholarship. Hence, my engagement with Flora Stewart’s portrait/photograph (Figure 1) reflects my understanding of it as an autobiography of the author (Flora Stewart), written in one of the most popular communication channels of her time (Carte de Visite⁶), in a language and grammar (i.e., dress, body orientation, gaze) she knew very well.

Discussing Frederick Douglass’ expression in photo portraits, John Stauffer, a co-author of Picturing Frederick Douglass: An Illustrated Biography of the Nineteenth Century’s Most Photographed American explained that Frederick Douglass never smiled in his photo portraits because he did not want to be  depicted as a “happy slave,” for “the smiling Black was to play into the racist caricature. And his cause of ending slavery and ending  racism had the gravity that required a stern look.” Photographs/portraits were then a space that allowed Black subjects to engage in literacy practices that enabled them to write/tell their own stories. Photographs/pictures lend themselves well with Blacks ‘attempts to show their humanity, reclaim their agency, own and tell their stories in their own words. Bernier⁷ (2017) aligns with this argument when explicating that “for Douglass⁸, photography was the lifeblood of being able to be seen and not caricatured, to be represented and not grotesque, to be seen as fully human and not as an object or chattel to be bought and sold” (pp. 51-55). Drawing on the New London Group multiliteracies framework and literature, in the next section, I discuss Flora Stewart’s carte de visite, focusing on her facial expression, dress, posture/body language as literacy practices, and her way of engaging with the viewer/audience to tell/write her story.

Making Sense of Flora’s Portrait

Flora’s carte de visite (Figure 1) shows the full portrait of an aged woman seated in dark-colored silk dress, with white-colored lace collar, black-colored lace gloves, a dark-colored head wrap, and holding a cane with gold/silver head. With a stern look, she gazes at the viewer, and head slightly tilted to the right.

What is Flora Stewart Writing/Telling the Viewer about Herself?

Flora’s attire conveys elegance and great taste. The choices Flora made in dressing herself for this picture point to how she wanted to be seen by and presented to viewers: a woman of class, with great taste, able of making her choices, and just as human as women in the white dominant society. Indeed, there is no difference between her and women of the white dominant society. During that period of the 19^th century, attire was associated with class, and members of the upper class wore rich fabric, and shimmering silk signaled a tasteful affluence (Wardrop, 2009). Flora positioned herself by the way of dress as a citizen and, more importantly, as a woman with respect and dignity. She resided fully in the cultural milieu of her time, displaying in her outfits a graceful and smart woman of New Hampshire. The physical presence of the cane with a silver head in the hand of this enslaved woman could be interpreted as a means for her to talk about her strength, authority, power and social prestige. Indeed, canes in 19^th century America were mostly used by men and symbolized authority, strength, power and social prestige (Snyder, 1993). Flora’s strength, power, and social prestige was captured to some extent by a correspondent of Lowell Daily Citizen⁹ as follows:

In Londonberry, N.H., about two miles north-west of Derry Village, near the line of the Manchester and Lawrence Railroad, resides Flora Stewart, a negress, once the slave of the grandfather of Samuel Wilson Simpson, now 80 years of age, whose mother at his birth was nursed by Flora. She is reputed to be 120 years of age. Mr. Simpson has data proving it to be not less than 119. Flora is full of vim, with remarkably retentive memory.

Yet, what the newspaper correspondent did not include was Flora’s authority and confidence in herself and her abilities. While the cane signifies authority, her gaze and stern look forces the viewer to focus his/her attention on her face, and humanizes this enslaved woman who, like Frederick Douglass,10 did not want to play into the racist caricature of Black women. In 19^th century America, racist caricatures of Black people— smiles, and exaggerated features, and clothes (Corbould, 2018)—purposed to demean and stereotype them as lazy, stupid, less human and less advanced. Standing against these racist portrayals of Blacks, Flora’s stern look and gaze signaled agency, and conveyed self-respect and self-control. Her seated posture reinforced the agency and respect that Flora reclaimed and commanded from the viewer. In this visual autobiography, Flora told the viewer through her clothes and postures that she was a woman with authority, agency, and intelligence—as human as any other white women from the dominant society. She carried herself with respect, and was deserving of the respect and freedom accorded to any human. As Stamper (2010) puts it “there is perhaps no closer link to an individual and to an understanding of that individual than that person’s visual self-presentation to the world” (p.4).

Clothing was as a form of self-expression, a means for sharing information about people’s character, social status, and roles in the 19^th century by women (Mas, 2017). However, I contend that for enslaved women like Flora Stewart, dressing for portraits was a form of language, grammar, a literacy practice she associated with other forms of expression such as her body posture and gaze to tell her story to her contemporaries, and to the audience centuries after her departure. More could be and should be said about Flora Stewart’s portrait, but my intent here is to discuss this portrait as an autobiography, contribution to 19^th century Black-authored scholarship.

Read more in this series, Blacks Reshaping Narratives About Black People in 19th Century America:

• Flora Stewart: African American Woman, Oldest Citizen of Londonberry, N.H
• Robert Douglass Jr., 19th Century African American Artist