“In the generation just before the Civil War, something like one-quarter of America’s enslaved people lived on large plantations with fifty or more forced laborers—in essence, work camps, where contact with whites might be limited and mostly utilitarian. Another quarter lived on plantations where twenty to fifty persons were held in slavery. The typical owner of, say, thirty captive Black workers knew his enslaved people individually, even if their true feelings often remained hidden from him.

That leaves half the South’s enslaved population living on properties where fewer than twenty Black people were held in bondage. Households that included, say, five or ten enslaved folk were very numerous. Callousness and exploitation were baked into the system, but slavery on this scale also required physical closeness between white and Black. This sort of environment was home to nearly two million African Americans by 1860, and it represented the predominant pattern in Virginia, which held within its borders the largest enslaved population of any colony or state throughout the period from 1619 until 1865.

These smaller farms and homes formed a system where, for the most part, the exploiters and the exploited knew one another personally, sometimes even intimately.”

These are the words of my guest Melvin Patrick Ely in his new book A Terrible Intimacy: Interracial Life in the Slave Holding South. An eminent historian of slavery and the American South, Ely’s last book was Israel on the Appomattox: A Southern Experiment in Freedom from the 1790s to the Civil War, for which he received the 2005 Bancroft prize. In A Terrible Intimacy he returns to the archives he knows better than anyone, the court records of Prince Edward County, Virginia, teasing from them what they reveal about what is perhaps the most complicated subject in American history.