Kevin Allor

UMBC History 705

March 31, 2004

Hampton National Historical Site, a Review

Hampton National Historic Site, designated as such in 1948 and then fully taken over by the National Park Service in 1978, is a place where the past and present blend to create a rich resource for public history. The site, consisting of the Hampton mansion, grounds, and outbuildings, represents only a fraction of the vast estate owned by the prominent Ridgely family until the twentieth century. In fact, the original land tied to the estate totaled over twenty thousand acres; today the National Park Service administers only sixty acres, and much has been lost to residential development and the passage of time. The park staff endeavors to complete a picture of a lifestyle and a world that can never be fully recovered. Much like academic historians, those working at Hampton attempt to fill in the gaps as much as possible, through careful scholarship and research, to bring the past alive for those in the present. Concerned as much – if not more so – with the lives of the people at Hampton than they are with the impressive eighteenth-century Georgian mansion, the public historians at Hampton do an admirable job of presenting the past accurately and convincingly, despite the constraints of an alarmingly tight budget.

It is important to note that the reason Hampton was designated a National Historic Site in the first place is that it is one of the largest surviving remnants of Georgian architecture in the United States. Essentially, it was chosen for the mansion’s walls, cornices, symmetrical balance, and domed cupola, not for the story of the people who lived and died, worked and existed at leisure on the estate. Given this information, it would appear that the institution might fall into the dangerous realm of presenting historical objects solely for the objects’ sake, and create a place where patrons can glance at pretty things from days of old, sigh in wonderment at the material glamour of it all, and then leave with nothing more than a sketch of grandeur and opulence imprinted in their memories. Fortunately for this important National Historic Site and American history, the staff at Hampton has done no such thing, and they have avoided this in several ways.

First and foremost, the staff has not forgotten the people who lived and worked at Hampton. Not only is the wealth and leisurely pastimes of the Ridgely family discussed, in great detail, but the daily toils of the indentured servants and especially African slaves is highlighted and even placed at the forefront of the historical discussion at Hampton. When the short, forty-five minute guided tour through the mansion stops at the kitchen hall, the guide spends several minutes describing how servants were summoned with the ring of a specific bell, at all hours of the day, to wait on the Ridgely family hand and foot. When describing the slave quarters, which are a stark contrast to the opulence of the mansion and clearly not examples of the treasured Georgian architecture, it is noted how close the slaves had to live to the overseer, who was only a tiny strip of ground away, and how even their private lives were curbed and curtailed by the hierarchy of plantation life. To the analysis of a regal dining room, complete with silk draperies, priceless family china, and hundreds of dollars of silver, a discussion is added about how the gentlemen could sit smoking idly for hours because slaves did back-breaking work in the many grain fields that surrounded the Big House. The costly vintage French wine that was consumed carelessly – one bottle per gentleman was the rule – was only available because slaves churned out pig iron as human machines in the Ridgelys’ prosperous ironworks at Northampton. Clearly, the story of Hampton is one filled with human experiences that visitors can relate to and gain a better understanding for how people lived very different lifestyles in (mostly) nineteenth-century America.

The story that Hampton revolves around is one about how a particular kind of lifestyle, based on the “Country” estates of eighteenth-century British nobles and gentry, rose to fruition in America, and how economic and social changes gradually made that lifestyle obsolete. To accomplish this, the public historians at Hampton relate the life of the estate to specific events in American history. During the War of 1812, the Ridgely family made fortunes selling iron to the United States government, and again, it is noted that the precious iron was made by slave labor. As the Civil War approached, the Ridgely family held onto the traditions of slave society as active Southern sympathizers, some members of whom even attempted to fight for a division of Maryland militia sent to Virginia. After the war, as slavery was ended, the foundations upon which the Hampton estate was built gradually crumbled, and soon fell completely apart. It is thus made implicitly clear that the lifestyle of the Ridgelys – and other white elites by association – could not exist without the forced labor of others. In addition to this, slave labor at Hampton is tied to areas of American history not usually connected with the institution of slavery, as with the example of how the cannon balls that helped protect against the British during the War of 1812 were made by slave labor. The staff at Hampton has done a commendable job grounding the site and their own interpretations in their appropriate historical context.

For all the careful attention to practicing scholarly research methods and historical standards at Hampton, there are several areas for improvement in this National Historic Site. The main audience for Hampton is children in primary and secondary education learning about Maryland history. While there is not so much concern with the historical information that Hampton provides, the method of conveyance may be unreceptive to young children. The main attractions of Hampton are architecture and artifacts, objects that require the detailed explanation of a guide to illuminate their historical value and significance. However, the guided tour of the mansion does not contain the “flashy” components that tend to grab young peoples’ attention, such as costumed interpreters and re-enactors. While Hampton does occasionally re-enact historical scenes, particularly ones from life in the slave quarters, this reviewer did not attend Hampton at a time when they were engaging in such a presentation, and thus can not judge its effectiveness as a mode of conveying historical information. This particular aspect and suggestion for improvement is crucial for adults and youth alike, because when people witness actual human beings “living in the past,” the chance that a personal connection or identification is made is only increased. Hampton could have the opportunity to profoundly influence many peoples’ perceptions of America’s past, especially with regards to slavery and slave labor, if the institution focused more on costumed re-enactment.

Another aspect of Hampton’s historical presentation that was conspicuously absent was the lack of interactive exhibits. As was stated before, the main focus of Hampton is the guided tour, which although incredibly informative is unfortunately a short forty-five minutes and probably not well-received by people who lack patience as a virtue. And while it is nice to have the freedom to wander the grounds by oneself, and have leisure to take in everything at an unconstrained pace, many people do not possess the self-discipline or even the attention span to effectively learn from this type of setup. Interactive exhibits, those that strive to involve the audience in the activities and discussions of the past, are excellent for capturing the attention of younger and older audiences alike. When someone has the opportunity to engage in an activity, or even something as simple as being able to touch objects, they are drawn in by their senses and they have a memory by which to anchor the historical information they learned. Hampton contains a wealth of near-priceless and irreplaceable objects, so certainly it is understandable that there is a “no touching” policy – the risk of a precious artifact shattering in the hands of even a careful patron is much too great. However, there are less risky ways to teach people a hands-on lesson in history. Perhaps Hampton does, indeed, offer interactive exhibits for their school groups or even larger tours. This reviewer did not have the privilege of being either an elementary school student or a member of a group; he was the sole individual on his tour of the mansion. However, an incorporation of interactive exhibits could only help strengthen Hampton’s portrayal of history.

Hampton also does not offer a tour of the slave quarters and outbuildings, only the mansion. While the tour guides offer valuable insight into the lives on slaves on the Hampton estate, the absence of the visual examples as the words are being spoken detracts from the educational experience. If slavery was such an integral part of the running of Hampton estate, why is it not incorporated into the overall guided tour of Hampton? Many people might only want to have the experience of walking through the mansion and its vaulted rooms filled with silver, paintings, and Parisian textiles, and totally skip walking over to see the slave quarters because they might be perceived as being less glamorous. Still more people may skip the slave quarters because they do not care to learn or be reminded about the existence of slavery in American society – an institution in which all Americans were complicit. If the tour was first given of the slave quarters, and then moved up to the mansion, both would be tied together in a visual as well as a verbal manner. It would be a significant improvement to the overall presentation of history for Hampton to incorporate a tour of the slave quarters; not only would it strengthen the historical interpretation but also bring those powerful visual images to the forefront of peoples’ remembered “Hampton experience.”

The historical interpretation of Hampton is one that, although broadly based in context, remains focused upon the Ridgely family and their slaves – slaves that had an experience largely different than other slaves in American society. True, they still had to endure back-breaking work and were forced into caste labor simply by the color of their skin, but Hampton slaves also lived and worked on a large, wealthy estate that does not compare with the experiences of the majority of American slaves. This distinction between this highly unusual world of the elites and their slaves is not made in the discourse at Hampton, and thus the visiting public might be lead to believe that all slaves, in fact, had experiences like the ones at Hampton. Although the park should remain focused on Hampton estate and its story, because this is where it is based and the information in Hampton’s archives helps to tell that story, it should also make the distinction between the conditions that the majority of American slaves lived and worked in and the conditions that those at Hampton lived and worked in.

To their credit, the staff at Hampton is constantly working to bring the aspect of slavery on the estate to greater depth and detail. Faced with a set of records almost entirely generated by whites, the public historians at Hampton engage – just as academic historians do – in the art of contextual analysis to glean as much information as they can from the documents available. Like any study of groups left out of the historical record, the historians at Hampton recognize that what is not said is just as significant as what is. The historians are also faced with physical problems when it comes to the history of African slaves on the estate. As the twentieth-century Ridgelys became desperate to keep the estate in the family, they were forced to sell off parcels of land for real-estate development. In the process, the unmarked slave graveyard – which had been lost with memory or even purposefully forgotten by the Ridgelys – was effectively removed from the visual historical record. Hampton’s public historians have attempted to find clues to the whereabouts of the slave cemetery, but have continually come up empty handed in the search. In terms of the historical, educational value of Hampton National Historic Site, the loss of the slave cemetery is truly a tragedy, though obviously the staff at Hampton should not be faulted for events outside their control, and it is wonderful that they continue to search for it.

Also unlike many other great historic houses, the people at Hampton are concerned with authenticity, not what modern viewers will find pleasing to the eye. They have engaged in extensive restorations of many mansion rooms that were tastefully “redecorated” by the nice ladies of the historical society that managed the estate until the National Park Service took over in 1978. Through careful research, they have tried to as great an extent as possible to restore rooms to the way they looked when the Ridgelys and their servants/slaves lived in them. Not only does this attention to authenticity and details give a measure of reliability to Hampton’s portrayal of the past, it also enriches the educational experience. For example, without the restorations of the dining room and explanation of the guide, the visitor would never know that the “busy” patterns and rich colors were a form of visual stimulation for the Ridgelys – stimulation of a different type altogether than the artificial forms we are used to in today’s world.

Those who work at Hampton National Historic Site are forever endeavoring to restore the buildings and grounds to how they looked in the nineteenth century, and to employ new and creative exhibits, but are constrained by very tight budgets. In many ways, from the occasional re-enactments of slave work and life to live performances of period music from the estate, to little girl’s tea games incorporating the toys from their collection, Hampton brings the ghosts of the past to life. However, these are only brief snapshots of a time period and a way of life that ended long ago. The brilliant Italian gardens and English park are now barren; the institution can not afford to plant the flowers that used to grow there. The greenhouses remain empty and the roof of one is totally shattered, not a single pane of glass remaining. Perhaps this is not a bad thing. After all, the main message professed at Hampton is that an aristocratic, country-style of life emerged from slave labor, and died as that forced labor was emancipated and “freed,” and one had to wash and sew one’s own linens, and set one’s own table. Seeing the sad state of decay, and hearing the story of how the twentieth-century Ridgelys steadily sold off property piece by piece – suburbs border the park on both sides – only serves to drive the message home. Doubtless, preservation is needed to make sure that what remains of this cultural landmark survives into the future, and in fact, Hampton helped bring the idea of historic preservation to the forefront of public conscious through the efforts of its dedicated staff. However, the historians at Hampton obviously can not be faulted for the physical state of the property if they do not have the funds to take preservation measures, and it is evident that they labor to do as much with what they have as possible. Suggestions for improvement of exhibits and presentation aside, Hampton National Historic Site is an excellent institute of public history, and the fact that the over-worked, budget-constrained staff is always seeking to improve the history that they tell can only be to their credit.