Something I wonder out of curiosity: if Fred was my ancestor, it would make him my great-great-great-grandfather, or roughly 1/32 of my ancestry. (Possibly he would be more since I’m not sure I had 32 g-g-g grandparents due to some cousin marriages, but we’ll go with that number.)
If he was light enough to pass for white, then he was probably at most 1/4 African in his ancestry. It’s not impossible that somebody who had one Euro and one Afro parent could pass for white, but it isn’t likely. (Halle Berry, Lenny Kravitz, Lisa Bonet, Sydney Poitier (daughter of the more famous actor) and Mario Van Peebles, to use particularly good looking examples, all have at least 2 white grandparents but none would be likely to fool an antebellum southern census taker that they were white- Jasmine Guy comes a bit closer and could probably claim Indian ancestry, but even then there’d be rumors.) So it’s not unreasonable to say that Fred would have had probably at most 1/4 African ancestry, which would make me about 1/128 African (assuming he’s the only source, which is not at all certain since genealogy is the oldest and most elaborate form of Southern Fiction Writing).
Would that 3/4 of 1% of my ancestry be likely to show up on a DNA test? I know, of course, that
1- x% of your ancestry does not necessarily equal x% of your DNA
2- there’s really no such thing as “Negroid DNA” (though you could test for similarity against, say, an Ibo or Mandinka or Borana or whatever)
but otoh, Sally Heming’s descendants who tested positive for male Jefferson DNA had dozens more non-Jefferson ancestors and the patterns still emerged. If I can ever swing the $ for a DNA test, I will totally do it because I think every one of us would be really surprised to learn just who made us over the years (“Chinese? How’d that get in there… so that’s why Chao did Great Grandma’s hedges for free and why Meemaw got falsely diagnosed with Down’s Syndrome”).
I hate to admit that there is a certain fascination to genealogy, as irritated as I’ve gotten with the Legions of the Walking Dead (and a strangely high percentage of gay men) who are absolutely obsessed with it and patronized the libraries I’ve used. (The most irritating are the newbies, who dont’ seem to understand that newspapers in 1844 didn’t print obituaries for common folk, that the Butts County Times for 1893 has nothing like an index and that we don’t just happen to have every record of mule sales in Quitman County in 1853 lying around.) It’s not even so much the personal connection as just how recently people left human beings in their wills along with wagons and heirloom pendants (not just in the south but in NYC, Philadelphia, etc., as well- Alexander Hamilton, Ben Franklin, etc., all owned slaves), or how people who somehow managed to accumulate 4,000 acres had to make a mark because they couldn’t write their names and yet as illiterate as they were they had children named Flavius Josephus and Catullus, or how the great-grandparents who raised 10 kids to adulthood did so when their farm and net worth together were appraised at $500. They are so like us and so not.
In any case I must run as Louis Farrakhan is waiting. There are some other new guys he wants me to meet before Orientation starts.