Reading the Emancipation Proclamation: Viewing Race and Freedom during the Civil War Era

Celia Burleigh thought she must be mistaken. The “quite handsome brick residence” in Cincinnati she stood in front of during one of the stops on her 1870 lecture tour was where she had been directed when she found herself desiring the services of a laundress. The home displayed “an appearance of taste and prosperity,” and Burleigh, “still a little puzzled,” checked the number above the door, confirmed the name on the well-polished door plate, and rang the bell. A young mixed-race woman answered, “tastefully dressed, and lady-like in appearance,” and, with a “voice which indicated both culture and refinement,” directed Burleigh inside to a handsomely furnished parlor. There, a number of books and plants, an open piano, and a fire added warmth to the domestic space. A framed portrait of Abraham Lincoln hung above the fireplace, while a full-length portrait of Frederick Douglass and a steel plate engraving of the reading of the Emancipation Proclamation faced one another from opposite sides of the room. After transacting her business with a “stately, self-respecting” laundress referred to only as Mrs. C., Burleigh ended her recollection with a parting thought: “I must say, that no ‘Interior’ by Eastman Johnson ever gave me so much food for thought as did this one, or seemed to me so significant a sign of the times.”1 While there is much to glean from Burleigh’s reminiscences, her published memory points to the significance of collecting and displaying visual cul-