Final Installment: Coleman v Ashland, and the End of Segregation Ordinances

Part III

Highlighted plots are the possible sites for John Coleman's house. Dates listed are when existing houses were built.  Arrow shows direction of Coleman's relative who would have lived two blocks to the north.

As quickly as the segregation ordinance was passed in 1912, it was challenged the next month.

On October 27^th, John Coleman, a black entrepreneur and native Ashlander, purchased a home on Henry Clay Street in the town.  At that time, there was already an established black neighborhood in Ashland, just north of Randolph-Macon College, called Berkleytown.  It was a hub of activity with stores, a hotel, and restaurants, and the first black school in Hanover County would be built there in 1950 under pressure for the country to provide “separate but equal educational opportunities.”

John Coleman purchased his small piece of property for $500 and he paid cash to the Commissioner of Revenue in Hanover County.  The deed book where the sale is recorded notes that it was a small piece of property situated on the south side of Henry Clay Street, between Snead and James Street- not in the black neighborhood of Berkleytown.  

There were no street numbers used then, and the property is described as being 27 ½ feet wide by 190 feet deep. When Coleman purchased the property, there was a black person renting the home, which had been grandfathered under the ordinance.  Ashland’s law specifically stated that it was fine for a black person to own a home, but they could not reside in that home if the majority of people living on that block were of the opposite race.  Coleman did have some relatives who lived about two blocks away from the Henry Clay house, so he could have just simply been moving closer to family.  

There are no indications that he bought the home as a challenge to the ordinance.

At some point between October 27th of 1911 and October 14th, 1912 John Coleman had decided to move into the home, because on October 14, 1912, a summons was given to the town sergeant to deliver to Coleman, ordering him to appear before Mayor Henry Ellis at 4:00 PM that same day and to pay a $20 fine for the violation of segregation ordinance.  Mr. Coleman was actually charged $20 for the violation, and $1.80 for “costs,” but it was noted that he asked for an appeal and was granted one. For that he had to pay $45 “recognizance” fee.  Clearly, Coleman had the means to pay the fine, but his concerns were with the principal of the law.  

            The next month, in November of 1912, the Ashland Town Council voted to form a committee to search for a lawyer to defend the segregation ordinance as challenged by John Coleman, and they would eventually hire James E. Cannon, of Richmond, who would go on to become the City Attorney for Richmond in 1923.   The lawyer that Coleman hired to defend his right to live on Henry Clay Street was Callom B. Jones, Jr, the 25 year old lawyer who also served on the Ashland Town Council and had voted in favor of passing the segregation ordinance.  John Coleman and Callom Jones were close in age, and both had lived in Ashland all their lives, so it is very likely that they knew each other prior to this professional relationship.  

            When Callom Jones, Jr., served on the Ashland Town Council, he was briefly appointed interim mayor when there was a gap between, and the question stands, how could he vote to approve the ordinance and then spend four years attacking the credibility of the law?  Jones was 24 years old when he first served on Council, a young lawyer living at home with his parents, just down the street.  The rest of the members of Council were his parents’ contemporaries- all white men, all having known Jones from when he was a child.  It would may have been incredibly difficult to vote against these older town leaders, especially for a 24 year old who was just beginning to understand his convictions.  

            Four months later, in March of 1913, the committee that had been appointed by the town council reported that they had detained Mr. James E. Cannon for a fee of $150.  When the case of Ashland v. Coleman went before Judge Chichester of Hanover County on September 16th, 1913, Callom Jones had lined up seven reasons that the segregation ordinance was unconstitutional:

  

1.     A public trust cannot be delegated or assigned at will.

2.     [The segregation ordinance] will create a petty legislative body in every city street with jurisdiction over this branch of municipal affairs.

3.      The Town Council cannot abdicate its legislative powers vested in it by the state.

4.      The use of one’s property is as much a property as the property itself.

5.      The ordinance is unequal, unreasonable, oppressive, partial and is discriminating.

6.      The ordinance is a violation of the 14th Amendment to the Constitution of the United States.

7.      The condemnation of the use of property by a body known as the “greater number of which are white, etc.,” on a street, is not the due process of law.

 Jones argued that by passing the ordinance, the Town Council violated the power that had been given to them by the state, and referenced several other cases that supported this.  By leaving the designation of whether a street was a “white” street or a “black” street to the other residents of that street, that the Town had effectually abdicated its power; thereby leaving the decision to the other homeowners.  He also argued that by having one set of property owners on a street decide about whether another property owner can live on the street,  that those majority property owners are taking away the private property rights of the other person (whom they are asking to leave the block.)  They have control over a piece of property that they have no right to have control over. The people who have 2/3rds ownership of the block now have power over the people who have 1/3rd.  Jones stated that the Town abdicated its power of authority by allowing those streets to decide.  John Coleman was denied the lawful use of his property by 2/3rds of the other property owners on Henry Clay St.

 In his defense of the town, lawyer James Cannon had argued that the town was well within its rights as the General Assembly of Virginia had passed legislation in March of 1912 (six months after Ashland passed their ordinance) allowing all towns and cities in the state to enact segregation laws to keep the races separate.  He also argued that the town council was charged with preserving the public peace; the public safety and order, and that keeping the races separate was the natural way to keep everyone calm and happy.  This was the general consensus of the era, as many newspaper articles also wrote about the need to keep blacks and whites separated in all aspects of their daily lives, except, interestingly, in cases of blacks working as servants in the homes of whites.  The segregation ordinance in both Ashland and Richmond made exceptions for this.  Carolyn Hemphill, the current president of the Hanover Black Heritage Society asked, incredulously, “They would let black people live in your house, take care of your children, cook your meals, but they wouldn't let them live down the street?”

 In his ruling on the case, Judge Chichester further commented on the General Assembly act, stating that even though the Ashland ordinance had been passed six months prior to the General Assembly Act, that the town was still acting within its jurisdiction because the ordinance was an effort to preserve the public morals, an argument that was often used to promote racial segregation: “The central idea of the ordinance under consideration seems very manifest.  It is to prevent too close association of the races, which association results, or tends to result, in breaches of the peace, immorality and danger to health.”  He also argued that the ordinance did not violate the 14th Amendment to the Constitution because it restricted the residence of whites and blacks equally.  He concluded that the town of Ashland had full authority to pass the ordinance and declared it valid.  Coleman’s appeal was denied. 

The Thursday, September 18th, 1913 edition of the Richmond Times-Dispatch newspaper carried news of the hearing on the front page: “Opinion Upholds Segregation Law.”  The city of Richmond was interested in the news from Hanover County because there were six cases that were pending over the Richmond segregation ordinance. Richmond City Attorney H.R. Pollard was quoted as saying, “As far as I know, this is the first ruling of its kind in Virginia.  It is of the utmost importance and has a direct bearing on the cases now pending against the city…”

Besides the quote from the city attorney, there are several circumstances which point to Ashland v. Coleman as being the first time that a black man had challenged a segregation ordinance.  In the court records obtained from Hanover County, Callom Jones cited several other cases related to the power of municipal corporations and the ability for the majority of homeowners on a street to decide if a billboard should be erected, or a stable to be built, but no cases involving discrimination over the color of a person’s skin.  

 At the November 13th regular council meeting, it was recorded that “Mayor Ellis reported that the Segregation Ordinance passed by the Town of Ashland had been confirmed by Judge Chichester, but that the attorney for John Coleman, the defendant in the case, had noted an appeal.” More than a year later, on October 12^th, 1914, the minutes of the Ashland Town Council approved the payment of $250.00 to James Cannon for him to represent the town in the appeal case pending before the Virginia Court of Appeals.  The next month, they also approved the hiring of attorney H.R. Pollard to assist in the appeals case.  Pollard was the City Attorney of Richmond at the time, and he would also write an amicus curae on behalf of the City of Richmond for the US Supreme Court Case of Buchanan v. Warley.

In September of 1915, Coleman’s case was joined together with the case of Mary Hopkins v. City of Richmond, who was arrested for renting an apartment on a street that had mostly white residents, and brought before the Virginia Court of Appeals.   In a statement published earlier that year in the Richmond Planet Newspaper (African-American), H.R. Pollard wrote that “the unwonted persistency with which many of the leaders among the colored people in this country have resisted the application of the basal principal involved in this legislation is almost pathetic.” The rulings in Hanover and Richmond that supported the segregation ordinances were upheld by the Court of Appeals, and in the days ahead, those “pathetic” black leaders would take their case to the U.S. Supreme Court.  

In this early part of the 1900s, segregation ordinances were gaining popularity across the southern half of the United States. The pendulum of Reconstruction had swung in the other direction and Jim Crow laws had begun to spread west to Kentucky, Oklahoma, and Missouri. The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People was founded in 1909, and by 1913 had hired a full-time lawyer to help fight against racist legislation. Backed by large support in Louisville, Kentucky, the NAACP chose this municipality to stage its fight. The case that would eventually appear before the US Supreme Court, would be Buchanan v. Warley, a carefully staged court battle between two people chosen by the NAACP to challenge the segregation ordinance in that city.  

The visibility of that case was heightened by the use of black ministers who coordinated their Sunday sermons (called, “Segregation Sundays”) to preach on the evils of Jim Crow laws.  William Warley, the president of the Lousiville NAACP, and Charles Buchanan, a white real estate agent, coordinated the sale of a piece of property in an area of Louisville where the majority of the residents were white.  Warley entered into a contract to purchase the home, and then refused to pay based on the inability for him to be able to occupy the home.  Buchanan sued him for breach of contract.  The Louisville ordinance was supported by the district courts, and appealed to the Kentucky Court of Appeals, where it was also upheld.

Buchanan v. Warley was heard before the US Supreme Court in April of 1917, with attorney Moorefield Storey arguing that segregation laws violated the Constitutional rights of black citizens.  Storey was a white, New England lawyer, whose family were dedicated abolitionists.  He was the founding president of the NAACP, as well as a practiced constitutional lawyer and former president of the American Bar Association.   In his arguments before the Supreme Court, Storey argued that the ordinances were discriminatory to both whites and blacks, that a “discrimination against one race in violation of the Constitution is not less repugnant because another race is also discriminated against,” and the court agreed with him. In writing for the unanimous court, Associate Justice William Day stated that, “property is more than the mere thing which a person owns.  It is elementary that it includes the right to acquire, use, and dispose of it.  The Constitution protects these essential attributes of property.” The Court ruled that all segregation ordinances were unconstitutional and ordered that they be removed from all municipal policy.  The Richmond Planet newspaper wrote of the ruling, “God bless the Supreme Court of the United States, Republicans and Democrats, Jew and Gentile.  We have always believed that God in his own time would make the crooked ways straight…”

The Segregation Ordinance, Part II: Race Riots

The Segregation Ordinance, Part II: Race Riots

Ashland, VA, taken in 1900, courtesy of the Ashland Museum.

After the war, Ashland’s main source of income, the Slash Resort, had closed and was

abandoned.  The horse racing track in Ashland had been transformed into a soldier camp and was never restored.  Fortunately, the college of Randolph-Macon, located in a small town in rural Mecklenburg County, was looking to relocate to an area closer to Richmond and to modern transportation.  The empty resort proved a perfect match for the institution and the college moved to Ashland in 1868, three years after Lee surrendered to Grant. The school brought much needed commerce to the community as businesses opened to serve the students and professors.  Had it not been for the relocation of Randolph-Macon, the town of Ashland might not have seen the twentieth century as the Civil War had destroyed the economy of the southern states. 

While the relocation of the college helped to rebuild the town’s economy, racial tension would begin to grow throughout the South as whites reacted to a free black population. Provisional governments set up by the United States gave blacks the opportunity to hold government offices and make decisions for their communities, but these newly appointed powers intimidated and frustrated many whites who were used to subservient blacks. Feeling threatened, whites often resorted to fear mongering to keep control.

After the surrender of the Confederate Army, the United States viewed the South as a conquered territory and instituted military rule that removed all of the former state and local political leadership.  These actions caused resentment among whites which grew into the myth of the Lost Cause: that the Civil War was a “heroic sacrifice and honorific commitment to duty and family.”  Vanderbilt University Professor Larry Griffin explained this reaction in his essay, Why Was the South a Problem?:

“The South created its own myth of the Lost Cause to explain the Civil War as heroic sacrifice and honorific.  It challenged America’s definition of Reconstruction by redefining it to be nothing more than orchestrated villainy, corruption, degeneracy, and political debasement, and it acted on those understandings by inflaming and unleashing the Klan of the 1870s.” 

In the rural American South, tensions between whites and blacks were 

well established by the turn of the twentieth century. The resulting segregation 

laws and racism can be seen in the stories from small towns: in their letters, 

their newspapers, and in their public history.  

 The Danville Circular

An incident in Danville, Virginia in 1883 revealed the negative repercussions of reconstruction and the political instability that it caused.  During the years immediately following the Civil War, the United States placed black and white Republican lawmakers in government seats.  The Readjuster Party, which was Republican and biracial, carried a majority in Virginia’s General Assembly in 1879, and the influences of this party spread  to local, municipal governments as well.  One goal of Reconstruction governments was tobetter represent both black and white citizens and in the city of Danville, Virginia, this was achieved by dividing the city government into wards, so that the votes of blacks would carry as much influence as that of whites.  As blacks took on more leadership roles (this included law enforcement and city council members), the whites of Danville felt ostracized. 

A group of thirty white business owners wrote and published an open letter,referred to as the “Danville Circular,” to the citizens of Southwest Virginia stating that the whites of Danville were suffering humiliation, indignity, and intimidation by blacks.  The letter also (falsely) stated that the blacks on the Danville city council were going to annex a black neighborhood just outside of the city limits which would swing the majority in their direction and ensure that it would be “impossible for any white man to hold office in the town.” 

The publication of this overtly racist letter caused the public condemnation of blacks in front of large crowds in the main streets of Danville.  On Saturday, November 3^rd, 1883, the tensions of one mob continued into the next day with an open riot and hundreds of individuals firing guns in the streets.  Four black men were killed and two white men were wounded, but not before the State government sent in militia troops to keep the peace and ensure an orderly election.   The publication of the Circular succeeded in inciting whites to exert control and intimidation over blacks.  It showed the power of fear, and the Danville Riot allowed the white Democrats to win the elections and return to power.  

This riot became the foundation for a tradition of fear, where whites were constantly told to be wary of blacks because of their tendency to violence and riots.  The irony is that most riots during this time period sprang from interactions with aggressive whites, and the majority of casualties were blacks because whites had more access to guns.

Rumors of mob violence or riots would be sufficient to spurn whites to request military support, and this pattern of fear and suppression was successful in keeping blacks in subservient roles.  Almost twenty years after the Civil War, in 1902, Ashland was a town full of commerce and activity.  The college of Randolph-Macon had brought new residents to the town, which now housed half a dozen bars and taverns, as well as shops and stores.  

The Richmond, Fredericksburg, and Potomac Railroad, who owned the train tracks that ran through the town, was busy installing a second track, and their workers, who were mostly African-Americans, lived in temporary a camp north of Ashland near Doswell.  These workers would be paid on a Friday night, and they would travel into the nearest town to spend their wages.  

On Sunday, August 31^st, 1902, The Times newspaper of Richmond reported that there had been tension between whites and blacks in the town of Ashland for several weeks following an altercation between a black man, Walter Latney, and a white man named Welford Trevillian.  It is notable that the newspaper mentioned the occupations of the fathers of these two men.  Mr. Trevillian’s father was the “Town Sergeant,” and

Mr. Latney’s father was described as the “town scavenger.”  It was reported that Mr. Latney made an offensive remark to Mr. Trevillian as they passed in the street and the two got into a physical fight.  Bystanders became involved, and Mr. Latney was arrested and taken to jail.  

 The following night, the same groups of whites and blacks who had been bystanders of, or involved in, the fight between Latney and Trevillian, returned to the downtown Ashland area. A rock was reportedly thrown by someone in the groups of blacks, and struck a white man, Richard F. Bierne, on the head and required several stitches.  To calm the situation, the Mayor of Ashland deputized “a half-dozen or more” special police officers, which were presumably young, white men.  These special officers arrested one man, a black railroad worker, who they found to be armed.  The article does not mention where the black man was found nor why he was arrested for carrying a gun, as it would have been presumed that many men were armed.  

The next evening, September 1^st, 1902, found many groups of young black and white men in the center of town.  The excitement of these groups was heightened from the previous confrontations and this evenings someone fired a gun into the air which sent people fleeing.  The next morning, the body of a black man, James Morris, was found in an alley near the center of town.  He had been shot in the back.  

The mayor of Ashland,who also was the judge on the local courts, ruled that they could not determine who shot Mr. Morris, and installed a curfew on the town to prevent any more violence.  He also asked the governor to send state militia troops to Ashland who patrolled the streets for three days. 

 In both the Danville and Ashland riot, the only injured or deceased were black men, but the behavior of whites were never called into question.  It was a common tactic to deploy large shows of force in response to “negro problems,” regardless of the actual threat to any community.  Whites were able to point to these incidents as examples of the need to keep blacks economically restrained and physically separated from the white community, and usher in Jim Crow segregation ordinances.   

Ashland was fortunate that no riot broke out over the rumor of Booker T. Washington starting a school for Negroes; by 1911, white Virginians were using laws and ordinances to keep black people oppressed.

Up Next, Part III: John Coleman moves to Henry Clay St.

The Segregation Ordinance; Part I: Cleaning Up

The Segregation Ordinance
Part I

Cleaning Up

The town of Ashland, Virginia was a thriving community in 1911.  Randolph-Macon
College had established itself on the grounds of the old Slash resort over forty year earlier
and the school continued to grow.  The college was a main employer for the town, and a
center of activity: many local homes served as boarding houses for students and staff,
and businesses on both sides of the tracks served the students. Despite being a Methodist
institution, the college hosted many dances in the Henry Clay Inn, and welcomed young
women from the town to attend.  There had been a great fire twenty years earlier that had
destroyed many shops along the tracks, but those had been rebuilt and more businesses
had moved to town.
The Richmond, Fredericksburg, and Potomac railroad had added a second rail at the
turn of the century, and there was a continual stream of train traffic through the town.  
News traveled quickly by rail, along with the mail cars, and speed with which newspapers
could be printed and distributed accelerated the delivery of information. Ashland had a  
town newspaper, the Hanover Herald, but news from Ashland could also be found in larger
newspapers like the Richmond Dispatch and the Alexandria Gazette (two cities connected to
Ashland by rail).
In 1911, town leaders were mostly concerned with sanitation and controlling the spread
of disease.  The town of Ashland had tried to form a company to install underground pipes
to bring water and septic service to the town, but the company had suffered from poor
management and had declared bankruptcy.  Most town council meetings were spent trying
to find ways to revive the Ashland Water Company, and passing ordinances designed to
keep away diseases, such as typhoid fever, diphtheria, and tuberculosis.  Ever worried about
cleanliness, the town mandated that every house had to be inspected once a month by the
town health inspector, and that stables had to be cleaned out twice a month in the summer
and once a month in the winter.  
In early September of 1911, Mrs. Miriam Pierce returned to her father’s home across the
street from Randolph-Macon College (pictured above).  Her father, the Reverend J. B. Laurens
(affectionately known as “Uncle Larry”) had been an esteemed Methodist minister and
a professor at the college.  He was the founder of the Rosebud Missionary Society and a
popular writer of Methodist doctrine.  He died in 1894, and in 1903, the Rosebud Society
honored him with a large granite monument in the Ashland’s Woodland Cemetery.

On September 12th, 1911, the Tuesday evening edition of the Alexandria (VA) Gazette
newspaper carried a front page story with the headline, “Will Not Build a Negro College.”
 The two short paragraphs read:

Ashland, Va., Sept 12 - Fired by reports that Booker T. Washington,
the negro educator, was about to acquire land here on which to build
a negro college like Tuskegee Institute, the [Town] Council, in a hastily
called meeting today, passed an ordinance of segregation which will
effectually prevent the consummation of the plan.

Mrs. Dabney J. Pierce, daughter of the Rev. J. B. Laurens, announced
that she would sell the Laurens homestead, adjoining Randolph-Macon
College to Washington.  When the matter became known and Mrs. Pierce
admitted that Washington intended to build a negro educational institution
on the property, the city stood agast. The ordinance is sweeping in its
prohibitory terms.  

More details were revealed on an inside page of that same paper:

“Residents of Ashland are up in arms over a report that the Laurens
homestead, one of the finest in Ashland, is to be converted into a branch
of the Tuskegee Institute for Negroes.  At the City Council’s session last
night, a segregative ordinance was framed. Mrs. Pierce a descendant of
the Laurens, who practically has abandoned the old homestead, returned
a few days ago and began cleaning up the place.  When asked what she
was going to do, the answer came promptly that she was contemplating
selling it to Booker T. Washington, who would establish a preparatory
branch of the negro college there. Meanwhile, Ashland, not knowing
where the report is true or not, continues to boil and rail.”

The Richmond Times-Dispatch also published a story about the Tuskegee rumor on that
same day, titled, “College Scheme Will Be Blocked.”

“Segregation Ordinance Introduced in Ashland- Will Be Adopted Today

(Special to the Times-Dispatch)

Ashland, Va., September 11th- At a meeting of the City Council of
Ashland held to-night, a segregation ordinance was introduced that
will be formally adopted at a special meeting to be held tomorrow
afternoon.

The ordinance, with modifications to meet local conditions, is based
on the Richmond ordinance, and in general terms it follows along the
lines of that measure.  

It is believed that the prime cause for the introduction of the ordinance
at this time, is the report recently in circulation that the Laurens
homestead, a desirable location in the center of town, and near the
campus of Randolph-Macon College, was to be purchased and converted
into a branch of the Tuskegee Institute for Negroes.  On the Laurens
grounds at present is a small-two story frame building and the entire
property is valued at about $1,000. It is not considered at all probable
that any attempt is to be made to establish any such institution here,
but the Council decided to take prompt action in case there was anything
to the rumor, and the ordinance will successfully block the scheme.”

If Miriam Pierce was the frustrated owner of a dilapidated property that she wished to sell,
the fear tactics that she used were familiar to Southerners and resonated loudly within
the small town.  The story of the school rumor was also carried in black newspapers,
such as The Appeal, a Midwestern African- American publication with offices in
Chicago and Minneapolis. New Yorkers would have also read about it in the Sun
newspaper on September 12th, which quoted a town resident saying, “We will never
allow a negro boarding school to be established in this town…”

The news of the rumor and the hastily passed segregation ordinance was traveled far enough to
reach Booker T. Washington, who wrote a letter to the editor of the Richmond Times-Dispatch
that was published seven days after the news broke.

From Booker Washington

To the Editor of the Times-Dispatch

Sir- My attention has been called to what seems to be considerate excitement
around in Ashland, Va., because of the fact that it is reported that I am planning
to place a colored school within the corporate limits of the Ashland Community.

I also see by a newspaper clipping that the City Council has met and passed
resolutions with the object of preventing such a school from being built within
the corporate limits.

Taking for granted that the newspaper reports are true, it is past my understanding
how people can become excited over the reports without stopping to take the
time to inquire as to whether or not such reports are based upon any facts. Many
of the lynchings in the United States occur because a rumor begins to fly through
the community, and it is passed from one lip to the other without anyone taking
the time to find out upon what facts the rumor is based.

In regard to the reports that I am to establish a negro school in Ashland,
I would state that I have never discussed such a matter with any human being,
black or white. I have never heard of any propositions to establish a school in
Ashland until I received a telegram from Major Moton of Hampton Institute
asking if there was any truth to the rumor.  I will state further, that all of my
time and strength is occupied in carrying on the work of the Tuskegee Institute,
and I have neither time, strength, nor money to use in becoming responsible for
another institution.

Booker T. Washington

Principal

Tuskegee, September 15

Regardless of Miriam Pierce’s motives for spreading the rumor, the town leaders in Ashland
acted swiftly and did not wait to hear from Mr. Washington.  1911 was a popular year for
residential zoning laws that restricted where people could live based on the color of their skin.
Baltimore had become the first city in the US to pass such a law in December of 1910 and
Richmond had followed close behind in April of 1911.  

The Ashland Town Council elections in June of 1910 found nine white men serving in
leadership roles for the community: H.A. Ellett, Town Sergeant, C.W. Crew, Mayor;
Callom B. Jones, III, Mayor Pro Tempore, D.B. Cox, W.S. Brown, S.J. Doswell,
G.F. Delarue, W.L. Foy, and E.W. Newman. Ashland would elect their first woman
member of Town Council in 1946, and the first black person in 1977.

The Ashland segregation ordinance was very similar to the ordinance that had been
passed in Richmond a few months earlier.  It prohibited whites and blacks from living
on a block where they would have been in the minority. If a block had mostly white people
living on it, then a black person could not reside there.  Those who passed the ordinance could
claim that they were being fair because the prohibited housing law applied equally to both
blacks and whites. It did make exceptions for people living in homes as servants, and it did
not prevent people from purchasing a property- they just couldn’t live in the house that they
owned.

Unfortunately, the climate in Ashland that feared a black college had been established years
earlier following the destruction caused by the Civil War. Because of its location just north of
Richmond, the capital of the Confederacy, and along the main supply lines of the railroad,
Ashland played a vital role during the war.  The small town was used as a staging ground for
troops, a depot for supplies, and as a refugee settlement for people fleeing the fighting in
Richmond, and north in Fredericksburg. Many homes along the railroad tracks were used as
makeshift hospitals, and there were over 400 unnamed Confederate soldiers buried in the
town cemetery.