
The angel Gabriel weathervane which sat atop the Winslow House. It’s now in the Hennepin History Museum’s collection. (Cynthia Sowden)
When Minnesota became a state in 1858, the constitution’s framers included a very specific article: “There shall be neither slavery nor involuntary servitude in the state otherwise than as punishment for a crime of which the party has been convicted.”
Little did they know that this very article would be used by a Black woman to free herself from bondage two years later in what later became Northeast Minneapolis.
A life of servitude
Her name was Eliza Winston. She was born in Tennessee in, she thought, 1830. But St. Cloud University professor Christopher Lehman has done extensive research on Winston’s life. In his book, “It Took Courage: Eliza Winston’s Quest for Freedom,” he said a slaveholder’s bill of sale points to her birth in 1817.
She and her family were enslaved by a man named Thomas Hopkins, who sold them all to John Christmas McLemore, one of the founders of Memphis, in 1822. The bill of sale listed her as “Eliza a negro girl about five years of age.”
McLemore was married to Betsey Donelson, a niece of Rachel Donelson, President Andrew Jackson’s second wife. When McLemore ran into financial trouble in 1834, Eliza was sold via a sheriff’s auction to Lucius Junius Polk, a cousin of James K. Polk, who became the 11th president of the U.S. in 1845. Jackson provided Lucius Polk with the money to buy 17-year-old Eliza and four other slaves. By holding on to Eliza’s “mortgage” he also made sure Betsey’s ownership of Eliza continued until her daughter, Kate, came of age.
In 1842, Polk transferred ownership of Winston and “her increase” (her children) to Kate McLemore, who had married Thomas Yates Goulson the previous year. They lived in Memphis, in John McLemore’s home.
Some freedom, but not free
Winston enjoyed an unusual amount of freedom during her time with the Goulsons. On Sundays, they allowed her to attend First Presbyterian Church in Memphis. It was a mixed congregation of free Black people, slaves and white people who didn’t own human beings. For a few hours a week, she found a supportive community and learned to read. Winston carried a pass that allowed her to move around the city; if arrested as a runaway without it, Tennessee law would have required her to be shipped to Liberia.
At some point, Winston met a free Black man and married him. His name is unknown, and the marriage was not recorded because of Winston’s slave status. They purchased a house and lot in Memphis, with Goulson holding the deed. He agreed to manumit Winston (release her from slavery) for a payment of $1,000. Before the couple could get the money together, her husband, following the call of the Presbyterian church, volunteered to accompany a group of people to Liberia, to help them start new lives. He contracted a fever there and died.
Thomas Goulson was a restless individual with big ideas. He considered setting up a law practice in Louisiana. That fell through. Then he tried selling real estate, and was a partner in a grocery store until the partner died and the business went under. He moved his family to Louisville, where he set up a law office. He soon got involved in a telegraph service that attempted to compete with Samuel Morse’s enterprise. When that business failed, he took out a mortgage on a lot he owned in Memphis and moved to Nashville.
In 1847, Kate contracted tuberculosis. Winston nursed her until her death in 1848. Goulson moved back to Memphis, Winston in tow.
Goulson continued to have money problems. In desperation, he pawned Winston to Richard C. Christmas, a cousin of John Christmas McLemore, for $800. She was soon on her way to Tallula, Miss., where she spent her days caring for Christmas’ sickly wife, Mary, and their infant daughter Norma.
Goulson died, never redeeming his pawned servant.

Eliza Winston’s fight for freedom is commemorated by a marker on the St. Anthony Falls Heritage Trail on Main Street, just steps away from where she first met Emily Goodridge Grey. (Cynthia Sowden)
The Winslow House
In the mid-1800s, the area around St. Anthony Falls was a tourist destination. St. Paulite James Winslow saw a means of making money. He purchased a lot in the town of St. Anthony, where Central Avenue and Third Avenue connect today.
Construction of the 260-room Winslow House began in 1856 and was completed the year before Minnesota achieved statehood. Made of gray limestone quarried from Nicollet Island, it featured a ballroom, bar, billiard room, dining room and hot and cold running water. It cost north of $60,000 – nearly $2.5 million today. Old photographs show women in hoop skirts and fancy bonnets standing atop the hotel’s steps or playing croquet in its yard.
While the falls were the main attraction in St. Anthony, the cooler summer climate was thought beneficial to invalids such as Mary Christmas. Steamboats filled with Southerners and their slaves made regular trips up the Mississippi to St. Paul, where passengers disembarked and headed west via carriage. A May 24, 1896 article in the Minneapolis Daily Times noted, “The slave owners were rich. ‘The unearned increment’ derived from raising cotton by means of slave labor was cheaply gotten and freely spent.”
St. Anthony residents recognized the economic boon provided by their Southern visitors, and for the most part, politely ignored the presence of slaves in a free state. Across the river, the fast-growing town of Minneapolis was a hotbed of abolitionism.
The Christmases had promised Winston her freedom when Norma turned 7, but when they reached St. Louis on July 6, 1860, Winston remained enslaved.
On July 12, 1860, R. C. Christmas and his family checked into the Winslow House. While the Christmases entered the hotel via the front door, Winston and other servants, Black and white, came and went through the laundry room in the back. At Mary’s beck and call 24/7, Winston probably slept on the floor next to her bed.
Shortly after their arrival, Mary sent Winston to find a seamstress to mend one of her frocks. On Main Street, less than half a block from the Winslow, Winston met the woman who would help her secure her freedom: Emily Goodridge Grey.
Emily was the daughter of a former slave and prominent Pennsylvania abolitionist William Goodridge. She was married to Ralph Grey, who ran a barbershop in the Jarrett House on Main Street. They were actively involved in the St. Anthony community and were the first African American landowners in Hennepin County. Emily had her own successful sewing business and had purchased land in her own name.
When Winston confided to Emily that she wanted to be free, Emily told her she was already free because she was in Minnesota. She told Winston to hang tight while she consulted her abolitionist friends about getting her away from her captors.
They came up with a plan to have Winston attend church with Emily at Charles C. Secombe’s First Congregational Church on Sunday, August 19. A carriage driven by William Babbitt would whisk her away from slavery.
Unfortunately, word got back to Mary Christmas. Winston was locked into Mary’s hotel room with Mary and Norma. Richard decided to move his family to the Thornton House on Lake Harriet.

The Winslow House register shows C.R. Christmas and his “wife child & nurse” checking into the hotel on July 12, 1860. The following day, he spent $1.30 on ammunition for a gun. The facsimile is on display at the Hennepin History Museum. (Cynthia Sowden)
Plan B
Two days later, Winston’s rescuers decided to take a legal route. Babbitt, along with W.S. King, the fiery editor of the State Atlas (and later, the founder of Northup King) and F.R.E. Cornell drew up a writ of habeas corpus and presented it to Fourth Judicial District Judge Charles Vandenburgh. Vandenburgh turned it over to Sheriff Joseph Canney, who was tasked with arresting Winston and bringing her before the judge.
Canney was accompanied to Lake Harriet by a posse that included Emily Grey and another woman who knew Winston by sight. Mary Christmas was again informed that someone was coming for her slave and told Winston to hide in the woods. In an affidavit she gave to Vandenburgh, Winston said, “… whenever anyone was seen coming, my mistress would send me into the woods at the back of the house, I minded her, but I did not go very far hoping they would find me. I was sent into the woods several times during the day …”
When the posse arrived, Winston identified herself and reaffirmed her desire to be free. Then she went into the hotel to change her dress. “My mistress asked me why I went off in this way, she said she would give me free papers… I asked why she did not in St. Louis.”
She was taken to the first Minneapolis courthouse on Eighth Avenue S. and Fourth St. The hearing lasted just a few minutes. Richard Christmas’ attorney asserted that she was legally a slave. Winston’s defense attorney cited Minnesota’s constitution and said she was free. Vandenburgh, an abolitionist, ruled she was free. The courtroom erupted. In the chaos, Winston was escorted out a back door to a safe house.
Winston remained in Minnesota until October, then her friends arranged for her to travel to Detroit. Although there were rumors about her living in Canada or returning to work for Richard Christmas in Mississippi, she settled down in Michigan and supported herself as a nurse. The 1870 U.S. Census lists her occupation as “laundress.”
There many things we don’t know about Eliza Winston: what she looked like (there are no photos), the name of her husband, how she chose her last name, whether or not she had children or the day she died. We know one thing for sure – she was free.
“Winston: A Woman’s Fight for Freedom in Minnesota” is on display at the Hennepin History Museum, 2303 Third Ave. S., through October 2027. Hours are Thursday and Friday, 10 a.m.-3 p.m. and Saturday, 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Admission is free, but they welcome donations.