Elizabeth Freeman (Mum Bett)

Hello, my name is Elizabeth Freeman, but for much of my life, people knew me as Bett. I was born around the year 1744 in Claverack, New York. Because I was born into slavery, I was considered the property of another person from my very first day. My family and I were moved to Sheffield, Massachusetts, to live in the home of Colonel John Ashley and his wife, Hannah. Although I never had the chance to learn how to read or write, I developed a different skill: I learned to listen very carefully. Listening taught me about the world around me, and in time, it taught me about the powerful idea of freedom—an idea that would change my life forever.

Life in the Ashley household was filled with constant, difficult work. My younger sister, Lizzie, and I served the family from morning until night, cooking, cleaning, and doing anything we were told. Colonel Ashley was a judge and a respected man in town, but that did not make our lives easy. His wife, Hannah Ashley, was often harsh. One day, sometime before the year 1781, she grew angry with my sister and raised a hot shovel from the fireplace to strike her. I could not let Lizzie be hurt, so I threw myself in front of her, taking the blow on my arm. The burn was severe, leaving a scar I would have for the rest of my life. I never tried to hide that scar; I wanted it to be a visible reminder of the cruelty I had to endure.

As the American Revolution began to stir, Colonel Ashley often hosted important men at his house. They would gather and discuss grand ideas like 'liberty' and 'the rights of man.' While I served them their food and drinks, I listened to every word. In 1780, the state of Massachusetts adopted a new constitution. I heard it read aloud in the town, and one sentence seemed to echo in my heart: 'All men are born free and equal.' I thought about those words constantly. If all people were born free and equal, then why wasn't I? The words did not say 'all white men' or 'all wealthy men.' They said 'all men,' and I believed with all my being that those words must apply to me, too.

With that powerful idea burning inside me, I made a brave choice. I walked away from the Ashley house to find a lawyer. My search led me to a young man named Theodore Sedgwick, who was known for his belief in liberty. I told him my story and about the words in the new constitution. I asked him, 'I heard that paper read, that says all men are born equal, and that every man has a right to freedom. I am not a dumb beast; won't the law give me my freedom?' He agreed to take my case. Another enslaved man from the Ashley household, named Brom, joined my lawsuit. Our case, Brom and Bett v. Ashley, was heard in August of 1781. We argued that the very existence of slavery was illegal under the new Massachusetts Constitution. When the jury returned with their decision, they agreed with us. They declared that Brom and I were free people and ordered Colonel Ashley to pay us 30 shillings for our years of forced labor. It was a victory not just for me, but for the promise of freedom in Massachusetts.

The first thing I did as a free woman was to give myself a new name: Elizabeth Freeman. It was a name that belonged only to me. Colonel Ashley later asked me to return to his home and work for him for wages, but I refused. Instead, I chose to work for my lawyer, Theodore Sedgwick, and his family. I was no longer their property; I was their respected and paid housekeeper. I helped raise their children, who loved me dearly and called me 'Mum Bett.' Over the years, I became a valued member of their household and the wider community. I even helped defend their home in 1787 during a tense conflict known as Shays' Rebellion. I worked hard, saved the money I earned, and eventually bought my own small house. For the first time in my life, I had a home that was truly my own.

I lived a long and full life as a free woman. I lived to be about 85 years old, and my life came to an end on December 28th, 1829. I was buried in the Sedgwick family plot in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, which was a great honor for a Black woman at that time. My court case was one of the first and most important steps that led to the end of slavery in Massachusetts. People remember me because I dared to believe that the promise of freedom belonged to everyone, not just a few. My story shows that you do not need to read or write, or have money or power, to stand up for what is right. All it takes is courage and a firm belief in your own worth.