Solomon Montier

The Montier lineage is a significant part of Solomon’s story as a freeborn African American because it starts with the first mayor of Philadelphia, Humphrey Morrey (1650-1716). He was a wealthy Quaker resident who also farmed 250 acres in Cheltenham Township, Montgomery County, north of the young city. He served as mayor from 1691-1701.

Like many at the time, he had enslaved people working his land, but he had them declared legally free upon his death. One young woman named Cremona stayed on as a servant in the house. Humphrey’s surviving son, Richard, fell in love with her and they had five children.

No documentation of marriage exists but the union was known and accepted in the community. Before Richard died in 1753 he deeded 198 acres to the mother of his children. No woman, white or black, could own land at that time so it was held in trust for her.

The youngest daughter, also named Cremona, met and married a man named John Montier. Family lore says he was from Haiti and also spoke French, so the early pronunciation of his name was “Mon-tee-ay.” They married in 1766 and had four sons who learned the craft of shoemaking. One of them was named Solomon (1770-1861).

Part of the land granted to the descendants of Richard Morrey passed through generations of the Montier family on what is now Limekiln Pike in Glenside. Solomon had  a large family, and at least two of his sons continued in the shoemaking trade, Hiram (1818-1905) and William (1825-1853). (Hiram’s significance is mentioned at the end of this story.)

The 1850 census lists William’s race as “mullato,” married to a black woman, Margaret Martin, and having three children, Keziah, Margaret, and the subject of this story, Solomon. Unfortunately young Solomon lost his father when he was eight years old, and his namesake grandfather at age 16, but he continued in the shoemaking tradition until he joined the Navy in late 1863.

Solomon was a landsman since he lacked any sea experience. He had the job of ship’s cook since he lacked the right skin color to do more important work. Duties also included dishwashing and cleanup. His first ship was the USS State of Georgia, shown here, which was part of the North Atlantic Blockading Squadron. He helped feed 113 crew members, but he wasn’t the only freeborn black man on the ship. The acting assistant surgeon happened to be the first African American graduate of Yale University.

In late 1864 he was assigned to another sidewheel steamer, the USS Sassacus. He cooked for 145 crew members during its most significant engagement, the bombardment of Fort Fisher, North Carolina in the early days of 1865. He then served briefly on the USS Juniata before being discharged in September.

The Montiers were well represented in the war, as shown by this list of family members. However, all but one were limited by segregation to either the lowest Naval rating or to the U.S. Colored Troops, and that one may not have drawn attention to himself due to a lighter skin color.

Back on land and at home in Philadelphia, Solomon was listed in the 1867 city directory as a waiter. He waited to find a wife until he was nearly 30, but did have his walk down the aisle in 1874 with his new bride, Hester Blake. After that he tried his hand as a barber for a short period of time. 

He would probably say the return to shoemaking was a “comfortable fit” for him, the last career he would have. However, records show that the marriage wasn’t a good fit. They were at separate addresses from at least the start of the 1900s until their deaths more than 20 years later. Starting around 1901 Hester lived and worked in Atlantic City, and she reported to the 1910 census enumerator that one child had been born to the couple but failed to survive.

Solomon applied for a pension in 1897 and finally won approval in 1907. His wife tried to apply for a portion of that pension in 1921 but was denied and died in April of 1922. Solomon was admitted on February 5, 1924 to the Naval Hospital in Philadelphia after suffering a stroke. A second stroke ended his life two weeks later.

In the 1990s, descendants of the Montiers discovered two oil paintings made of Solomon’s shoemaker/uncle Hiram and his wife, Elizabeth. Commissioned in 1841, the couple paid for the portraits to mark their wedding that same year. Dressed formally and surrounded by classical columns, drapery, and each holding a book, the figures reflect their affluence as well as their literacy.

The portraits were restored and are on display at the Philadelphia Museum of Art to present a side of free African American culture in the early 1800s which is not widely known.