Sylvia and her daughter Elizabeth in 1883
Enslaved and abused, Sylvia Dubois (c. 1768–1888) was determined to fight back. She returned the blows and won her freedom.
Sailing troubled waters
Sylvia was born into slavery on New Jersey’s Sourland Mountain. Her mother, Dorcas Compton, had purchased her freedom when Sylvia was two, borrowing money from a man named Dominicus Dubois.
However, Dorcas failed to repay the loan, and she and her children became the property of Dubois. As her mother sought work elsewhere, Sylvia was left at the mercy of her owner’s wife, whom she later described as “the very devil himself.” Mrs. Dubois often beat her and struck her with various tools, sometimes inflicting severe, life-threatening injuries. Dominicus Dubois knew and did nothing.
Sylvia was resilient, strong, and had a combative temperament. Dubois owned a tavern and operated a ferry across the Susquehanna River. Sylvia managed the ferry, and local people knew her well and preferred to travel with her. She also claimed that she could defeat any man in a race with a skiff.
Fighting back
Deep down, Sylvia swore she would one day make Mrs. Dubois pay. The opportunity came when her mistress struck her in public. With witnesses present, Sylvia could expose the reality behind the image of a refined woman.
In Sylvia’s own words:
"It happened in the barroom. There was some grand folks stopping there, and she wanted things to look pretty stylish, and so she set me to scrubbing the barroom. I felt a little glum and didn’t do it to suit her. She scolded me about it and I sauced her. She struck me with her hand. Thinks I, it’s a good time now to dress you out, and damned if I won’t do it. I set down my tools and squared for a fight. The first whack, I struck her a hell of a blow with my fist. I didn’t knock her entirely through the panels of the door, but her landing against the door made a terrible smash, and I hurt her so badly that all were frightened out of their wits, and I didn’t know myself but that I’d killed the old devil.”
Sylvia knew the onlookers would side with her mistress, so she intimidated them:
“Why they were going to take her part, of course. But I just sat down the slop bucket and straightened up, and smacked my fist at ’em, and told ’em to wade in if they dared and I’d thrash every devil of ’em, and there wasn’t a damned one that dared to come.”
She was not attacked and managed to escape safely to the next town.
