EDITORIAL: A reckoning for Harvard and New England

May 11—Harvard University's recent, long-awaited reckoning with its ties to slavery was an eye-opener.

As outlined earlier this month in an exhaustive, 130-page report titled "Harvard & the Legacy of Slavery," the fabled university and those who led it benefited from keeping other humans in bondage.

The report, commissioned by President Lawrence Bacow, found that Harvard's faculty, staff and leaders enslaved more than 70 Black and Native American people from the school's founding in 1636 to 1783. The report, however, notes the figure is "almost certainly an undercount."

It's a reckoning for Harvard. But, given the school's place in New England history, it's a reckoning for the entire region.

Researchers combing through historical records were able to identify dozens of enslaved people by name, along with their connections to the university. Today, we still remember those with famous ties to Harvard. Increase and Cotton Mather, minsters who played key roles in the Salem Witch Trials. Gov. John Winthrop. William Brattle, for whom Cambridge's Brattle Street and Brattle Square are named. John Hancock, a Founding Father.

Less familiar are those they held in bondage, most of whom were referred to only by their first names. Cesar. Dinah. Venus.

"Enslaved men and women served Harvard presidents and professors and fed and cared for Harvard students," researchers found. "Moreover, throughout this period and well into the 19th century, the University and its donors benefited from extensive financial ties to slavery."

Bacow has pledged $100 million toward the report's suggestion that the school identify the descendants of enslaved people and engage with them "through dialogue, programming, information sharing, relationship building and educational support."

The story is not done — it is only beginning, and it should spur self-examination beyond the walls of the Ivy League. Harvard drew its supporters from across Massachusetts, New England and the new colonies, and for decades sent graduates and researchers out into the world, where they held an outsized influence.

Take, for instance, the story of Israel Thorndike of Beverly. In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, he lived in what is now City Hall and was involved in the building of the first Beverly-Salem bridge. He was a delegate to the Massachusetts Constitutional Convention and was elected to the state Legislature 13 times.

He was also a Harvard benefactor — and a slave holder.

Abby Battis, Historic Beverly's associate director for collections, helped provide Harvard researchers with a copy of a 1791 letter written by Thorndike and a shipping business partner that ordered one of their ship captains to purchase five to 14 "good Negroes" in Africa, transport them to Cuba and sell them "for the most that can be obtained."

Other prominent Beverly men were graduates and supporters of Harvard, including John and George Cabot, who along with a third brother, Andrew, were part owners of vessels that have a documented history of slave trading. The Cabot House, Historic Beverly's museum and headquarters, was owned by John Cabot. Andrew Cabot owned the building that is now City Hall, before his widow sold it to Thorndike. Battis and the Beverly Historical Society have documented the city's ties to slavery in the exhaustive, groundbreaking exhibit "Set at Liberty; Stories of the Enslaved in a New England Town."

Even after slavery was abolished, the report says, prominent scholars continued to promote concepts that fueled racist ideas. Researchers cite work by 19th century professor Louis Agassiz, who began his career as a celebrated geologist but later pushed discredited theories on "race science" and eugenics and hosted lectures and published studies arguing non-white people were genetically inferior to white people.

For years, a Trustees of Reservation Park in Manchester-by-the-Sea bore the Agassiz name. It has since been renamed The Monoliths.

As Battis told reporter Paul Leighton, "Here I sit in the John Cabot House. We tell the story of what he did in history, but we never touch upon what we're finding in those documents with his boats. We have portraits of Thorndike and Brown both on view, but we don't address the elephant in the room.

"It's going to have to come down to the good, the bad and the ugly," Battis said. "We can't necessarily hide history. That's not fair and it's not who we are."

In that respect, Harvard's report can be a lesson for everyone.