Jack
We know little about the life of Jack before he was enslaved by Samuel Wolcott in Wethersfield, CT. We do not know how old he was at that point, or where he was born. There is a notation in Samuel Wollcott’s account book on September 4, 1678, that states “bringing up my Negro from Haddam” and another on November 2, 1680, that states “they brought up my Negro from Haddam” (Account Book of Samuel Wolcott). This could suggest that Jack may have lived or spent time in Haddam, CT, before or during his time enslaved by Wolcott.
Samuel Wolcott was a violent man. This was documented by Jack and by others. In 1690, Wolcott was charged with beating a servant, an Indigenous man named Shumackpock (Genealogies and Biographies of Ancient Wethersfield, p. 842). Also in 1690, Hugh Peck accused Wolcott of repeated brutal beatings, including one where Wolcott beat the boy with three sticks until Peck was “bruised and wounded him in a grievous maner [sic]”. The relationship between the two is unknown, but Peck referred to Wolcott as his “master” and was probably an indentured servant. The court took Peck away from Wolcott after Wolcott stated that he did not think he had done anything wrong and that if Peck was returned to him he would “beat him worse” (Early Connecticut Probate Records, 1635–1700, vol. 5, p. 524). This context is helpful in viewing what Jack said about Wolcott’s treatment of him, even though these charges were filed later.
Wolcott treated Jack similarly to how he would later treat Peck and Shumackpock. Jack would later state that Wolcott “always beates [sic] him sometimes with 100 blows” and that the effects of these beatings were so brutal that “he hath told his Master that he would sometimes or other hang himself” (Pynchon Court Record, p. 298–299).
In June of 1681, Jack took his freedom from Wolcott. At some point in the next week, he made his way through Southfield, where he stole a gun, but then left it in the woods because he realized that it did not have a flint in it and so would not fire.
About a week and a half after he left Wolcott, Jack came to the home of Anthony Dorchester (probably in Springfield), a miller who also ran a ferry across the Connecticut River. According to Dorchester, Jack entered and asked for tobacco. Dorchester told him there was some on the table, so Jack cut himself some, and, when Dorchester wasn’t looking, put the knife he used to cut the tobacco in his pocket. Dorchester then stated that Jack grabbed a cutlass (short sword) that was either on the wall or on a shelf and threatened Dorchester with it. Something went wrong with the cutlass (the statement says that it “came out stiff” which could mean perhaps that it was dull or that Jack had trouble removing it from its scabbard), and Dorchester was able to grab Jack, and his wife and daughter helped him to tie Jack up. Once Jack was tied up, Dorchester stated that he searched him and found the knife hidden in his pocket (Pynchon Court Record, p. 298–299).
Jack was jailed for this offense on July 1. Some historians have stated that he escaped from prison, but we have not seen a record explicitly confirming this. The record for the bills related to his imprisonment count two weeks of food and fees for “two dates and a halfe [sic] in time in looking after him.” The record is not specific as to what that means, but one interpretation could be that “looking after him” literally meant looking for him. If this is true, he would have probably escaped 10 or 11 days into his sentence.
On July 14, 1681, Jack set William Clark’s Northampton house on fire. He ran away, but was later caught and confessed to the crime. He told authorities that the fire was unintentional, that he had been looking for food and took the brand from the fireplace so that he could see better in the dark. However, even arson with no fatalities could be a capital offense, and his race probably did impact the severity of the judgment he received. He pleaded not guilty, but was found guilty and sentenced to death. He was hanged in Boston, and his body was then burned with a Black woman named Maria who had also been convicted of arson. (It is not clear whether Maria was alive or dead at the time of the fire).
Since Jack’s death, the story of the fire as an act of malice has been embellished considerably. A 1755 pamphlet recounting Jack’s crime included charges that he was “Instigated by the Divill [sic].” James Russell Trumbull, a major 19th-century historian of the Connecticut River Valley, described Jack and the crime as follows: “[Jack] was a vicious character…after stealing whatever he could lay his hands upon, he set the house on fire to conceal the robbery, or from spite against William Clarke” (History of Northampton, vol. 1, p. 376). Trumbull also told another version of the story, one that he said local “tradition has handed down.” In this version, Jack “fastened the door on the outside so that no one could escape, and set the fire on the outside. William Clarke injured his hands considerably (pounded them it is said) in his endeavor to escape, and his wife was somewhat burned. John Clarke, grandson of William, a little more than a year old, was brought out of the house and laid beside the fence…The negro had taken offence at something William Clarke had done in his official capacity, and set the fire in a spirit of revenge. He was…identified by means of a jack-knife in his possession that belonged to the Clarkes.” (History of Northampton, vol. 1, p. 377).
Both of Trumbull’s retellings hinge on Jack’s targeting William Clark. It is unclear what “official capacity” Trumbull is referring to, but unless Clark was involved in Jack’s robbery trial (sources say that Clark did act as a judge at some point, though we do not know if he judged Jack), it is hard to think of what interactions Clark and Jack could have had.
The lack of specificity about any actual grudge Jack may have had against Clark highlights that the point of this story, as it was handed down, was Jack’s villainy, not the facts of the case. Trumbull’s stories may have had some origin in the actual facts of the fire, but the retellings are based on a racist interpretation of Jack’s actions. Trumbull and the pamphleteer both assumed that Jack’s actions were malicious, no doubt because of the color of his skin. It is also of note that Jack’s enslaved status is hardly mentioned.
We mention these stories here not because they are true, but because it was the local narrative. This is how white people around Northampton would have talked about Jack if they talked about him at all. And people were talking about him; Trumbull’s book was published in 1898, over 200 years after the fire. Even though Trumbull was probably reporting retellings from white sources, white people would not have been the only people listening. Black people who lived in town would have been hearing this tale—about what happened when a self-emancipated enslaved person came to Northampton—for centuries.
Note: at this point the Clark family spelled their name both with and without an “e” at the end. For clarity, we have used one spelling throughout this entry, except where the alternate spelling is used as part of a direct quote.