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English Pages 257 [271] Year 1984
Bul Hiere Wes No Peace
The Role of Violence in the Politics of Reconstruction GEORGE C RABLE
THE UNIVERSITY OF GEORGIA PRESS
ATHENS
Copyright O 1984 by the University of Georgia Press Athens, Georgia 30602 All rights reserved Designed by Sandra Strother Hudson Set in Linotron 202 Century Schoolbook H ie paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the Council on Library Resources. Printed in the United States of America Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Rabie, George C. But there was no peace. Bibliography: p. Includes index. 1. Reconstruction. 2. Violence Southern States— History—19th century. 3. Southern States—History— 1866-1877.1. Title. E668.R131984 973.8 83-17883 ISBN 0-8203-0703-3 talk, paper! ISBN 0-8203-0710-6 Ipbk.l
For my m other and father and Kay and, of course, Annie
Contents
Acknowledgments ix Introduction xi 1. Am erican Violence, Southern Violence, and Reconstruction 1 2. The Specter of Saint-Domingue
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3. The Memphis Race Riot 33 4. New O rleans and the Emergence of Political Violence 43 5. M ilitary Reconstruction: The Trium ph of Jacobinism 6. The O rigins of the Counterrevolution 7. The Search for a Strategy
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8. Counterrevolution Aborted: Louisiana, 1871-1875 9. Counterrevolution Trium phant: Mississippi, 1873-1876 144 10. 1876: The Trium ph of Reaction
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Epilogue: On the Inevitability of Tragedy Notes 193 Bibliographical Essay Index 253
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Acknowledgments
Ihe only unalloyed pleasure in w riting a book is thanking those who helped along the way. These few words m ust serve as the author's m eager thanks for much generous assistance. On several research trips, I m et w ith alm ost unfailing helpfulness and courtesy from scores of librarians and archivists. The staffs a t the Southern H istorical Collection a t the U niversity of North Carolina, the Perkins Library a t Duke U niversity, the Alabama Departm ent of Archives and H istory in Montgomery, and the Rutherford B. Hayes Memorial Library in Frem ont, Ohio, deserve special commendation for extraordinary services. Two of my colleagues a t Anderson College, Glenn Nichols and J . Douglas Nelson, provided good hum or and much-needed encourage m ent in the la tter stages of th is project. My good friend “Coach” A. Wilson Greene of the N ational Park Service was a source of generous hospitality and abusive hum or on several research trips. Professors Terry Seip of the U niversity of Southern California and Randy Roberts of Sam Houston State U niversity each read several chapters and made many im portant suggestions for improvement. Jo seph G. “Chip” Dawson m of Texas A&M U niversity a t Galveston also critiqued several chapters and shared much useful information on Lou isiana affairs. Thomas E. Schott of the United States Air Force gener ously gave me access to his voluminous notes on Alexander H. Ste phens, answered m any questions on Georgia politics and proved to be a boon companion on two lengthy research expeditions. Through their interest and encouragem ent, all four of these individuals demon strated a com m itm ent to friendship th a t is all too rare in academic circles. John L. Loos of Louisiana S tate U niversity was a constant source of wry hum or and useful advice during my graduate school days. He has
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rem ained a tru sted friend, valued counselor, and dependable source of assistance. Trudie C alvert edited th e m anuscript for the U niversity of Georgia Press w ith great care and made num erous stylistic improvements. There are five individuals w ithout whom th is book could never have been completed. C harles E ast, editor of the U niversity of Georgia Press, willingly read w hat proved to be a very rough early version of the work, selected outside readers who made invaluable suggestions for revision, and had more faith in th is neophyte author th an was often w arranted. W illiam J . Cooper, Jr., of Louisiana State U niversity read an earlier draft of the work, discussed each chapter w ith me a t some length, and spurred me through his probing questions to make numerous interpre tive changes. More im portant, his advice and good cheer a t several difficult points were crucial for its successful completion. The late John D. U nruh, J r., of Bluffton College initiated me into the serious study of history and tau g h t me the value of thorough research and tough questioning of one’s own work. His brilliance, hum ility, and superb example of hum ane scholarship will always serve as the epi tome of the best th is profession has produced. The late T. H arry W illiam s of Louisiana S tate U niversity directed my original research w ith constant prodding, unfailing wit, and warm generosity. His careful reading of each page improved the w riting style and saved me from m any em barrassing solecisms. My long-suffering wife Kay obviously deserves more th an th is sm all paragraph of appreciation. She not only was an invaluable assistant and cheerful companion on several research trips, but she proofread, copied inform ation, and typed several versions of the m anuscript. She uncom plainingly tolerated a husband who was often obsessed w ith another tim e and other places. Her faith and love sustained me through some rough tim es and made the good tim es worth celebrating. Anderson, Indiana
Gbobge C. Rable
Introduction
study of selected race riots during Reconstruction begun ten years ago formed the genesis for the analysis of violence during th a t period th a t is the focus of this book. At first glance, bloodshed in the South after the Civil W ar seemed endemic, but closer examination 'uncovered complex patterns. Civil wars produce political, social, and economic upheaval, leaving in th eir wake deep bitterness among both victors and vanquished. After Appomattox the South’s political leaders saw them selves entering an era of revolutionary changes imposed by the national government, which many viewed as an outside power. Continuing a long pattern of American, and particularly southern, behavior, many whites found an outlet for th eir frustration by attack* ing those deemed responsible for th eir suffering: white Republicans and blacks. The num erous “outrages” reported by the Freedmen’s Bu reau and arm y officers and a bloody race riot a t Memphis, Tennessee, in 1866 are symbolic of the tensions th at boiled w ithin the former Confederate states. By 1867 civil disorder was taking on an increasingly political char acter. Interpreting the passage of the Reconstruction Acts as the final trium ph of Jacobinical radicalism , veteran politicians and newspaper editors unleashed vehem ent attacks on the new Republican state gov ernm ents. Conservative leaders adopted a variety of peaceful strate gies to stem the Republican tide, ranging from courting black voters to legalistic obstructionism , but to no avail. Frustrated a t their inability to bring th eir states back to Democratic control, some southerners turned to the Ku Klux Klan and other white suprem acist organiza tions, using terrorism to elim inate opposition leaders and to strike fear into the hearts of rank-and-file Republicans, both black and white. The poverty and economic instability th a t were universal in the postwar South heightened political conflict and - worsened race relations.
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Factional disputes w ithin the Republican party, weaknesses in the southern state governments, and the halting and inefficient federal campaign against terrorism encouraged im patient whites to use force against th eir political foes. A counterrevolutionary tide began sweeping through the South in the early 1870s, sending state after state back into Democratic hands. Conservative leaders acquired great skill a t selectively employing arm ed force to win state and congressional elections. Violent canvasses in Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, and South Carolina exposed the impotence of the Republican party in the South and the determ ination of Democrats to defeat th eir opponents by any means necessary. The final trium ph of the counterrevolution awaited the withdrawal of northern Republican support from the so-called "carpetbag regimes" in 1877. The inconsistency of federal Reconstruction policy and the strength of southern resistance seem to have doomed the Reconstruct a These statem ents were more th an idle bombast; they re flected the unw avering conviction of m any w hite southerners who en visioned them selves in the m idst of a cataclysm ic upheaval. As northern and southern Republicans set up th eir “revolutionary” regim es in the South, they unintentionally handed angry w hites a powerful rationale for counterrevolution. By denying the legitim acy of th e state governm ents established under th e Reconstruction acts, southerners could readily justify counterrevolutionary terrorism .19 The real constitutional debate therefore took place, not in Congress,
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b u t in the southern press and th e private discussions and letters of conservative politicians. Refttsing to recognize the authority, much leas the sovereignty, of the new state adm inistrations seemed to reduce southern society to a Hobbesian state of nature. W hite leaders, however, much preferred John Locke to Thomas Hobbes and chose to base th eir continued defiance of national power on an appeal to th e Anglo-Saxon tradition of resistance to tyranny, particu larly the sp irit of 1776. Such a noble-sounding rationale could palliate enorm ous b ru talities and cast bloody-handed night riders in the roles of George W ashington or Paul Revere. Yankee oppression purified the Confederate cause and m ade it appear more genuinely American; w ar against radicalism thereby became for m any southerners a sacred duty perform ed to vindicate th e memory of th e founding fathers.14 According to form er Confederates, th is noble heritage had been corrupted. The Y ankees had appropriated all th e symbols of Ameri can nationalism . A lthough southerners considered them selves the na tion's genuine republicans, they no longer flew the stars and stripes. P atriotic holidays such as th e Fourth of Ju ly became days of somber reflection ra th e r th an of celebration. Indeed, claimed the editor of th e Charleston Mercury, th e appetite of th e radical “Moloch” was insatia ble, and th e final goal of northern fanaticism was to crush the South under th e banner “C arthago delenda est.”14 Tragically for southern w hites. Reconstruction m eant not only politi cal chaos b u t social anarchy as well. Since th e « id of the w ar, blacks had become increasingly assertive about gaining equal access to public transportation facilities on railroads and streetcars in some southern cities. Despite th e lack of statutory requirem ents, segregation was probably th e unw ritten rule and nearly universal practice in most areas of th e South because w hites were much more sensitive about social intercourse th an political rights. Ju b al Early, for example, strenuously objected to attending a ceremony in Richmond for the unveiling of a statu e of Stonewall Jackson after several companies of Negro soldiers had been invited. Governor Jam es Kemper sharply in formed th e irascible E arly th a t the blacks had asked to participate in order to improve race relations and th a t the program would go ahead as originally planned. A pparently, “Old Jube” stayed home.16 The southern horror of racial egalitarianism was no mere irrational anxiety about social m ixing b u t rested on a deep-seated fear of m is cegenation. Scattered reports of such practices confirmed the worst suspicions. A Mobile, Alabam a, editor fumed: “W henever you deter m ine th a t your ignorant, b rutal, filthy and licentious negro, has a rig h t to obtrude into w hite people's houses, in th eir church pews, th e a tre boxes, &c., you m ake an issue of in stan t life or death.”17 These
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speculations acquired substance when in 1875 Congress enacted a comprehensive Civil R ights Act th a t guaranteed blacks equal access to public accommodations and transportation facilities. R epresentative W illiam S. Herndon of Texas lam basted th e m easure as a frontal as sau lt on th e South’s social system and a sure road to anarchy. A Mississippian described several outrageous responses to th is explosive piece of legislation: a black woman had demanded a seat in church beside a w hite m an, a black m an had sa t next to a w hite woman a t a funeral, m en and women riding in railroad cars had to drink from th e sam e w ater cup as a "greasy strapping negro,” and worst of all, a carpetbag ger and his black wife had attem pted to register a t a local hotel.1* Changes in the p attern of racial accommodation and behavior in th e Reconstruction South violated th e basic ten ets of w hite democracy. Louis H arta, C. Vann Woodward, and George Fredrickson have all dem onstrated th a t antebellum ideologues had constructed a theory of “herrenvolk democracy” in which the equality of all w hite men de pended on the subjugation of black m en.18The end of slavery made th e preservation of political and social distinctions based on race even more im portant to w hite southerners because they were convinced blacks could not be elevated socially or politically w ithout a conse quent degradation of w hites. One race or the other had to dom inate; egalitarianism w as impossible and could lead only to black suprem acy. C learly, when w hite leaders harped on the danger of "Africanization,” they m eant exactly th a t—a m onstrous evil th a t would negate the ac cepted values and practices of W estern civilization and allow an infe rior race to rule over a superior one. The firm conviction th a t raising th e statu s of one group autom atically lowered the statu s of another n atu rally m ade southerners in terp ret Reconstruction and Negro suf frage in apocalyptic term s.80 This to rtured logic rekindled fears of racial w arfare. A lthough by 1867 th e annual insurrection panics had subsided, a conflagration like th e one in Saint-Dom ingue in 1791 still seemed possible in states w here blacks outnum bered w hites. Ignoring the inherent contradic tions in th e ir argum ent, conservatives asserted th a t the southern people would soon rise up and could easily crush th eir black ru le n .81 A restoration of antebellum race relations seemed impossible as long as blacks served on ju ries, voted, and occupied political offices. As late as th e 1870s, some w hites still advocated Negro colonization as a final solution to th e region’s racial problems, and a few predicted th e even tu a l extinction of the blacks.88 Such doomsday prophecies pointed up th e v itality of proslavery ideology even after slavery was gone. The scriptural and pseudo-scientific theories of black inferiority retained th eir support; biology still decreed the course of history. Had not black
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people, conservatives asked, alw ays been barbarians? Had they ever established any g reat civilizations? Though largely ignorant of African history, w hite com m entators baldly asserted th a t the black race had m ade no progress since the tim e of the Egyptian pyram ids and would soon relapse into savagery.*3 A lthough m ost w hite southerners ware horrified by m ilitary Recon struction and th e th rea t of Negro rule, they responded in different ways. Since the days of Calhoun, conservative leaders had seen divi sions in th e ir ranks as a wedge for Yankee doctrines and practices to penetrate th e South, and the passage of the Reconstruction acts inau gurated a furious debate over the relative m erits of submission, coop eration, defiance, and a host of other political stratagem s. In the back of m any m inds lurked th e fear th a t indecisiveness m ight resu lt in Republican control of the new governm ents by default. B ut southerners vigorously aired th eir differences. Moderates criti cized conservative leaders for having consistently misled th e South during presidential Reconstruction by encouraging defiance and ignor ing the d rift of northern public opinion. W hen the Reconstuction acts were being debated and passed in Congress, even some of the South’s trad itio n al leaders had advised submission.*4 The only way to prevent fu rth er revolution and upheaval, Jam es Longstreet wrote to Robert E. Lee, was for “our best people” to tak e control of the Reconstruction process. Although such men as Joseph E. Brown of Georgia would alw ays face charges of political opportunism for tem porarily allying them selves w ith th e Republicans, some m oderates saw no other choice. F ranklin J . Moses, J r., of South Carolina urged former Confederates to be "alive to th e necessities of the hour” and thereby redeem th e south land from im m inent peril. Such redem ption, however, did not mean an end to antebellum political differences. H istorians have stressed th e survival of W higgery in th e southern Republican party, but there were elem ents of Jacksonian Democracy as well. If Jam es L. Alcorn hoped to get M ississippi Republicans to adopt W higgish economic policies, Jam es L. O rr of South C arolina was equally insistent on securing two great Democratic m easures: a homestead law and a debtor relief law.3* The im pact of th is fragm entation of the southern elite a t first seemed enormous. Did the emergence of these m oderate voices dem onstrate th a t congressional policy could not only tam e w hite intransigence but also build a genuinely biracial Republican party in the South? In 1867 and 1868, the prospects for political reform, and perhaps economic and social improvements, appeared bright. The shallowness of th is sup posed change in attitu d es and the weaknesses of many of the new converts to reason was not yet apparent. Voices of m oderation elicited a chorus of conservative protest th a t
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exploited the old issue of southern honor. In a b rilliant series of news paper essays entitled "Notes on the Situation,” Ben H ill of Georgia denied th a t th e South had failed to m eet any of the conditions of su r render, ridiculed th e notion th a t further resistance would produce harsher legislation in Congress, and expressed no hope for a people who would sacrifice th eir birthright as southerners for a sorry mess of radical pottage. The prew ar South's greatest novelist, W illiam Gil more Simms, likewise dem urred from taking the path of conciliation: "We may subm it, as a conquered people to the chain, but we shall not hug, nor embrace the knees of our conquerors. We shall only loathe them the more, and feel ourselves a t all tim es free of all obligations.** The route of expediency, then, inevitably led to greater evils and new disgrace: it was far better to suffer degradation out of necessity than to assist one’s enemies in fastening new shackles. The distinction was, in the words of Alexander Stephens, between "martyrdom and suicide," or as his friend Herschel Johnson put it: "I will not attend the funeral [of constitutional liberty], much less serve as a pall-bearer.”*6 To ac knowledge the sincerity of such sentim ents does not mean taking them too seriously as prescriptions for or indications of future action. The southern dilem ma was th a t the tim e for rhetoric had passed, and hard decisions had to be made. Despite fundam ental agreem ent on the nature of the political crisis, white leaders in the early phases of "radi cal" Reconstruction arrived a t no workable consensus on strategy.*7 Because careless drafting of the Reconstruction acts allowed south erners to avoid reconstruction and rem ain under m ilitary rule by sim ply registering and then refusing to vote in the ratification elections for the new state constitutions, the old policy of "m asterly inactivity" revived. By the sum m er and fall of 1867 cooperationists came under sharp attack from conservatives, who called for renewed resistance to northern demands. When, in a fourth Reconstruction Act in March 1868, Congress dosed off the escape route, all the states of the former Confederacy (except Tennessee, which had been readm itted after rati fying the Fourteenth Amendment) would have to undergo the recon struction process. This new situation, of course, forced a drastic revi sion of conservative strategy. Fanatics m ight continue to bluster and pontificate about the uncon stitutional, oppressive, and revolutionary nature of the Reconstruction Acts, b u t speechm aking could not end th eir subjugation. The question for experienced politicians became w hether to sit back and w ait for the new state governm ents to collapse or to enter the political lists and joust w ith w hite and black Republicans for control of state and local governments. There was no simple answer. A tactic th a t succeeded in one place m ight foil m iserably in another. Some reactionaries favored
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a boycott of all political activity,** but as early as the spring and sum m er of 1867, prom inent editors were advising th eir readers th a t to register and vote was the only way to defeat the Republicans and ¡»event the imposition of Negro rule.“ Conservatives generated some enthusiasm by holding conventions to counter radical proselytizing efforts. These assemblies drafted p lat forms proclaiming the unconstitutionality of the Reconstruction acts and supporting a program of white supremacy in opposition to black suffrage. Herschel Johnson encouraged white Georgians to unite and thereby dominate state politics. He cautioned his fellow citizens not to acquiesce in the destruction of republican government but rath er to cling to the Constitution as an ark of safety in a “storm tossed sea." The South's traditional leaders began to throw off their torpor and reenter political life.“ Conservative hopes seemed bright in the states where whites made up a majority of the electorate, but even there the "scalawag” elem ent m ight hold the balance of power. In states with black m ajorities, the future appeared much more forbidding. Such grim prospects forced reluctant white leaders to solicit black votes. This tactic did not signify acceptance of Negro suffrage as a wise and necessary reform. On the contrary, conservative speakers, even when addressing black audiences, denounced it. Vainly attem pting to discover virtue in necessity, some politicians pragm atically sought to lead black voters in the “proper” direction and, above all else, avoid any perm anent alienation between the races. Paternalists carefully cultivated black voters; less idealistic office seekers considered th at voters were voters, no m atter w hat th eir color.31 The strange sight of planters soliciting the votes of th eir former slaves spoke more elo quently than a thousand editorials about the revolutionary impact of congressional Reconstruction. Conservative expectations for winning black votes partook more of wishful thinking th an of realism . The constant refrain was th at the Negroes had been tricked by wily carpetbaggers for the last time, had learned th eir lesson, and would join with whites in routing radicalism. Even when blacks had supported the Republican ticket in several elec tions, some optim ists persisted in hoping for th eir assistance in throw ing off the yoke of radical thralldom . In th eir view, blacks could be free and independent only when they voted according to the dictates of th eir white friends and neighbors.33 Only Republicans apparently no ticed the paradox in th is assertion. Wooing the black electorate became a complicated and costly process for southern politicians. They lit bonfires, held mass meetings, and hosted large barbecues to bring blacks together for campaign speeches; they organized black Democratic campaign dubs with great fanfare
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and publicity. Y et most blacks natu rally distrusted men who had op posed th eir enfranchisem ent and who now forced them to eat a t sepa* ra te tables a t the political picnics. In sum , plaintive harangues, fine m eals, and o u tright bribes were ineffective. Blacks listened to th e Democratic speakers, feasted on the bounteous viands, and then voted Republican. A common expression held th a t th e Negro would follow his old m aster in everything but politics.” The failure of these stratagem s made a search for outside assistance im perative. In effect confessing th eir political impotence, w hite leaders came to see the northern Democrats as th eir only hope. Assuming th a t a Democratic president would refuse to enforce the Reconstruction acts and would allow th e restoration of home rule, they attached special im portance to the 1868 presidential election. F aith in the Democracy, however, was far from universal. Beginning w ith the disputes between Calhoun and prom inent party leaders in the antebellum period, south erners had long debated th e advantages of a national political party versus a strictly southern one. As Ben H ill, Wade Ham pton, and other skeptics noted, th e northern Democracy had proved unreliable in 1861, and there was no reason to expect it to do better now.34 Most southern w hites nevertheless buried such doubts and entered the cam paign w ith determ ination and enthusiasm . Southern Democrats insisted th a t th e party condemn the usurpa tions of the radical Republicans in unequivocal language. Specifically, th e Reconstruction acts and radical southern policies m ust be repudi ated. W hen th e party adopted a platform declaring the Reconstruction acts unconstitutional and void, southerners had achieved all they could have hoped for. D uring th e canvass, stum p speakers spent more tim e praising th e platform th an extolling the virtues of th e party’s nominees. This ultraconservative platform combined w ith th e injudicious speeches of several prom inent old Confederates gave the Republicans a ready-m ade cam paign them e. Southern Republicans set the tone for th e canvass by defining the voters’ choice as one between the Republi cans and peace and the Democrats and war. Frightened radicals claim ed th a t a Republican defeat would m ean death for the party’s southern wing. The Tallahassee Sentinel, which had recently changed its political stance from conservative to radical, predicted the destruc tion of the public schools and the renewed persecution of loyal men if th e Democracy should trium ph.36 The image of w hite U nionists and blacks being assassinated along lonely country roads effectively aroused the northern electorate and infuriated southern conservatives. There was little doubt th a t th e question of a rekindled rebellion could prove decisive. Strenuous ef-
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forts by Democratic leaders to defuse th is explosive issue failed, but to a g reat extent they had only them selves to blame. According to Wil liam Hidell, a southern jo u rn alist of m oderate views, the people were "m ore ram pant and crazy” in South Carolina th an anywhere else and w ere talk in g w ar ju st as they had done in I860. Hidell had heard a drunken Robert Toombs urge a cheering audience to clean th eir m us kets, rifles, and shotguns and prepare to kill Yankees and Negroes. Some of the people, Hidell sadly concluded, "are ju st big enough fools to im agine they can of them selves be an arm y and wage successful w ar.”3* In an atm osphere ren t by a rhetoric of desperation, m any southern w hites found it difficult to control th eir emotions. Although Demo cratic speakers repeated the usual charges about radical agitators fo m enting black insurrections, conservatives were the real incendiaries. The editor of th e A tlanta Constitution suggested th a t white radicals "be made to feel the cold steel” whenever racial disturbances occurred. The inauguration of a Democratic president, the fanatical Ryland Ran dolph crowed to his fellow Alabam ians, would be the signal for hang ing th e scalawags and carpetbaggers.97 Such extrem e statem ents were not typical of southern editorial comment during th e campaign, b u t they are significant because individuals and groups put th is advice into practice. The violence of th e 1868 canvass m arked a d e a r departure from the earlier p attern of Reconstruction disturbances. O utbreaks w ith a pri m arily political purpose occurred in nearly every state. If enough po ten tial Republican voters could be convinced th a t casting th eir ballots would be dangerous, th e Democrats m ight well can y the southern states. A lthough th e New O rleans riot of 1866 was political in origin, th e first widespread political disorders in the postwar South occurred in 1868. Prom th is point on. Reconstruction violence became increas ingly organized (at least a t th e local and state levels) and less random and individualistic. The first m anifestation of th is change was the geographical expan sion and stepped-up activity of the Ku Klux Klan. Organized in 1866 in Pulaski, Tennessee, by several young Confederate veterans, the K lan was alw ays shrouded in secrecy and mythology. The K lan, w ith its m ysterious nam e and elaborate ritu als, initially was a social club for th e am usem ent of its members. By early 1867, however, the group had become a band of regulators whose ostensible purpose was to stop a blade crim e wave. Initially, K lan activities were confined to pranks and verbal intim idation. Its aim s became more serious as it spread through Middle and W est Tennessee, proclaim ing itself the chief de fender of w hite civilization against the oppressive regim e of Governor
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W illiam G. “Parson” Brownlow. A lthough the K lan’s prescript estab lished an elaborate hierarchy, in practice local dens operated autono mously w ith very little central direction. It is doubtful w hether in th is early period th e K lan extended much beyond Tennessee and a few counties in northern Alabam a. Klansm en apparently engaged in some n ight riding during th e 1867 election cam paign in Tennessee but did not conduct th e system atic and widespread terrorism th a t would be come synonymous w ith the organization’s name.16 Allen Trelease has argued th a t K lan violence first became evident in the spring of 1868, when the original leaders lost control of the orga nization, but th e relationship between the officers and th e rank and file is complex and raises im portant questions about the n ature of and support for violence in the Reconstruction South. Because the formal chain of command probably never functioned according to the regula tions in th e prescript, K lan m em bers often acted w ithout instructions from th eir superiors. B ut th e leaders' denials of responsibility could also have been a convenient excuse for prom inent citizens who secretly welcomed vigilantism and bloodshed. Conservative leaders commonly condemned certain “excesses” while denying th eir own involvem ent. Ironically, Brownlow could have used the sam e logic in disclaim ing any connection w ith th e occasional outrages committed by his state m ilitiam en. Indeed, the contest between the m ilitia and th e K lan was a t first very even. W hite Tennesseans denounced Brownlow's Negro m ilitia for com m itting num erous depredations in the state but appar ently were m ore alarm ed by its effectiveness in suppressing night rid ing th an by its crim es. U nionists regularly complained to th e governor of rebel attacks and requested sta te arm s to defend them selves. Before th e beginning of extensive K lan disorders, the Tennessee m ilitia per formed its extrem ely difficult task creditably.39 M any of th e troubles in Tennessee were unconnected w ith politics; they involved m eting out extralegal justice to Negro crim inals and settlin g private quarrels w ith a deadly finality. The conservative press often criticized such abuses b u t lam ely contended they had not been comm itted by “genuine” Ku Klux, w hatever th a t m eant. By the sum m er of 1868, the raids in Tennessee had nearly ceased, but Republicans still demanded a more effective state m ilitia to protect blade citizens who had been driven from th eir homes, and conservatives countered w ith charges of misconduct against Brownlow's men.40 Even as the violence abated in Tennessee, the K lan moved into other states. In m ost areas, th e K lan sprang up sim ultaneously w ith th e form ation of Republican state governm ents in the spring of 1868 as a response to the supposed evils of radical and black domination. The dens rem ained largely independent of one another; a group of young
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m en generally formed a den after hearing news of the organization elsew here. The K lan w as active in all th e form er Confederate states and K entucky, h u t it grew less rapidly in the black-belt areas and in counties w ith a large num ber of w hite Republicans.41The K lan entered V irginia, N orth C arolina, and Florida in the early spring but confined its activities to organizing and occasionally publishing bizarre notices in th e newspapers. In South Carolina, Ku Klux conducted raids and whipped some blacks; in Georgia, Klansm en assassinated prom inent w hite Republican leader George W. Ashburn; and in Alabam a, they engaged in scattered acts of terrorism . Ku Klux appeared in a few M ississippi counties, but cautious planters opposed any organization th a t m ight stim ulate black resistance. Violence against blacks would supply Republicans w ith political am m unition and upset relations be tw een capital and labor.42 In th e trans-M ississippi South, where frontier conditions still pre vailed, the K lan had a more violent career. It apparently existed only briefly in the Florida parishes of Louisiana, but sim ilar organizations, prim arily the K nights of th e W hite Cam ellia, operated throughout th e state. In th e northern parishes men in disguise whipped blacks, assassi nated Republican leaders, and destroyed the press of a Republican news paper. K u K lux in th e southern counties of A rkansas rode as masked vigilantes, chased Union men from th e area, and fired into houses a t night. W ith crim e already ram pant and m urder nearly an everyday occurrence, Texas hardly needed another bond of bloodthirsty vigi lantes. B andits and desperadoes, often w ithout disguise and in the day tim e, roam ed about the state com m itting depredations. B ut even in the w ilds of Texas, th e Ku Klux did not operate entirely unopposed. Blacks shot a t K lansm en who rode into M illican in Brazos County, but several w ere killed in th e ensuing exchange of gunfire. Conservative news papers commonly labeled such affrays “Negro riots” and blamed them on th e inflam m atory teachings of w hite radicals.42 M anufactured tales of black insurrection circulated through th e South during every Reconstruction election campaign. Peaceful politi cal m eetings were interpreted by nervous w hites as the prelude to race w ar. A fter a group of Negroes in Conway County, A rkansas, had re portedly resolved to exterm inate the w hite people, one hundred arm ed m en gathered in th e town of Lewisburg; a sm all group of w hites then exchanged fire w ith blacks in th e countryside. Sensing the beginning of a pogrom, the blacks gave up th e ir arm s and went home. In St. M artinville, Louisiana, the mayor dispersed a Republican parade. Al though some blacks threatened to burn the town, they left w ithout incident.44 W hite fears were m ost intense in South Carolina. Reports th a t
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arm ed Negroes were drilling a t night spread throughout the state. Frightened citizens abandoned th eir political scruples and begged Re publican Governor Robert K. Scott for assistance, but conservative leaders conceded th a t m any of th e freedm en genuinely feared reen slavem ent if a Democratic president were elected. The existence of black political organizations not only increased w hite paranoia but served as a convenient pretext for w hites to form vigilante groups.46 The work of Democratic clubs alarm ed Republicans, who raised a hue and cry about large weapons shipm ents coming into the South. Repeating rifles became a standard accouterm ent for men attending cam paign rallies; Union m en feared th a t bullets rath e r th an ballots would determ ine th e election results. Democrats agreed, but from th eir viewpoint th e danger came not from Ku Klux b u t from sta te m ilitias. Livid editors attacked a Republican plan for Congress to supply state forces w ith arm s; such appropriations were not made u n til after th e election. Republican Governor H arrison Reed of Florida purchased guns and am m unition in New York, but Klansm en intercepted th e shipm ent between Jacksonville and Tallahassee, scattering th e weap ons along th e railroad tracks. Ironically, m en who recognized th e danger, such as Governor Scott of South Carolina, still defended th e “constitutional rig h t" of citizens to carry arm s, even if th e exercise of th is privilege m eant brandishing shotguns and rifles a t political rallies.46 Acts of intim idation ag ain st Republican voters occurred in nearly all th e southern states. A rkansas Klansm en forcibly prevented blacks from registering and insisted on enrolling Confederates who had been disfranchised by th e state’s new constitution; arm ed bands in Alabam a made Negroes sign pledges to vote the Democratic ticket; local officials in Tennessee arrested freedm en who attended Republican m eetings.47 In m ost states, such coercion was scattered and sporadic, and its effect on the outcome of th e election is uncertain. Radicals may have exag gerated the extent of th e problem, b u t such tactics created an au ra of fear even if they did not prevent significant num bers of voters from going to th e polls. Accounts of n ight riding regularly appeared in Republican news papers, letters w ritten by southern Republicans to th eir northern po litical allies contained moving appeals for protection, and Republican governors received num erous requests for m ilitary assistance. Dis guised m en visited freedm en’s homes a t night, confiscated weapons, whipped black m en, and terrified fam ilies. Shootings became common as election day approached.46 Many of th e attacks seem random and capricious—a tactic th a t served, w hether intentionally or not, to heighten th e terror.
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A t other tim es th e arm ed bands were calculating in choosing th eir victim s. In th e tradition of European and American mobs, they acted w ith restrain t, carefully selecting “real enemies'* as targets.4*The most prom inent Republican to be assassinated was Congressman Jam es M. H inds of A rkansas, who w as shot from ambush in October on his way to deliver a public speech. In th e upcountry of South Carolina, three w hites killed Beqjamin Franklin Randolph, a black member of the legislature from O rangeburg County. Conservatives attem pted to dis credit Randolph and thereby divert attention from the crime by charg ing him w ith m isleading Negroes, alienating the two races, and advo cating social equality. Republican sources claimed th a t three members of the South C arolina legislature and one delegate to the constitutional convention had been m urdered since the beginning of the canvass.80 To Republican leaders, these incidents proved the existence of a con servative conspiracy to drive loyal men out of the South. The lives of sta te and local officials in Alabam a and South Carolina were th reat ened, and C harleston black leader Richard Cain believed Democratic clubs had m arked him for assassination. To ferret out the tru th in these incidents is impossible, but even accounting for some exaggera tion, a p attern of persistent if not system atic intim idation emerges. To th e Republicans and th eir fam ilies on the firing line, the terro r was all too real. A frightened woman in Anderson, South Carolina, recounted how th e Ku K lux K lan had abused local Republicans and were a t tem pting to drive h er husband from the country. “I never lie down to sleep,** she sadly noted, “w ith th a t sense of safety which I could feel, if my husband’s principles were democratic.”61 Although Republicans' fears mounted as the cam paign progressed, m ost of them cast th e ir ballots for G rant. The party carried all th e southern states except Georgia and Louisiana, where by November n ig h t riding and other forms of violence had turned the Republican m ajorities of th e spring elections into Democratic ones. E arly in the Georgia cam paign, Republicans accused th eir opponents of plotting to deprive blacks of th eir rig h t to vote. T hat recent convert to th e party, Joe Brown, predicted more bloodshed if Democrats a t tem pted to terrorise black citizens. Appealing to northern friends for assistance, Republicans insisted the Georgia Democracy was gaining black support through coercion. Intim idation focused on a single community could be rem arkably effective. In Septem ber political tensions became so inflamed th a t Democrats in C am illa decided to crush black political activity w ith overwhelm ing force. A sm all town located in M itchell County in the extrem e southw estern corner of Georgia, Cam illa was the scheduled site for a Republican m eeting on Septem ber 19. W hen two to three
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hundred blacks, some arm ed, assem bled on th e appointed day, Sheriff M. S. Poore and a handful of w hite citizens m et them a few m iles from town. The Republicans could hold a m eeting, the sheriff told them , so long as they did not bring in any weapons. Two w hite Re publicans th en led the procession into Cam illa, where w aiting townspeople opened fire. Despite attem pts by th e scalawags to rally them , the blacks fled into a nearby woods. N ine blacks died, and twenty-five to th irty were wounded. No w hites were killed, and only six were wounded. As in m ost such affrays, the evidence of prior planning is circum stantial, b u t the hand of the Young Men's Demo cratic Club was plainly visible. Conservative editors blam ed radical leaders for secretly ordering blacks to provoke outbreaks in th e South during th e cam paign. If th is charge was tru e, conservative w hites had certainly cooperated. The people of Georgia, the norm ally tem perate editor of th e A ugusta Constitutionalist w arned, "are not obliged to m eekly subm it to arm ed invasions of our cities and villages.” M any w hites believed Republican Governor Rufus Bullock and other knav ish scalaw ags and carpetbaggers would risk racial w arfare to obtain political advantages. Yet th e fact th a t arm ed w hites had chased, shot, and killed blacks in th e woods n ear Cam illa gave pause to some conservatives. As Linton Stephens noted in a le tter to his brother, “From all I have seen about the C am illa riot, I am afraid our people cannot stand wholly justified.”*9 B ut if men such as Stephens were concerned, they did nothing to stop the terrorism . The K lan w as active in m any p arts of Georgia during th e cam paign, th reaten in g Republicans, searching for weapons, whipping men of both races, and com m itting an unknown num ber of m urders. K u K lux also acted as vigilantes in affairs unrelated to the election. A mob in Jefferson County n ear A ugusta seized a black m an for allegedly raping a w hite woman, bound him to a stake, and burned him alive. In other areas of the state, "radical Negroes” had to sleep in th e woods to avoid th e roving w hite bands. On election day, w hites surrounded the polls in Savannah to prevent blacks from voting and drove insistent freedm en away w ith guns.*4 The effect was striking; Republican m ajorities in m any counties evaporated, and the Democrats easily captured th e sta te ’s electoral votes. The lesson to be draw n by th e conservative victors w as equally simple: force works. B ut Georgia w as tran q u il compared to Louisiana. Governor H enry Clay W arm oth m ay have exaggerated the danger in claim ing th a t 150 men had been m urdered in th a t sta te in a m onth and a half,** but arm ed companies, especially th e K nights of th e W hite Cam ellia, were a t work throughout th e cam paign. The raison d'être for the K nights w as to m aintain w hite suprem acy and protect th e country from politi-
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cal equality and m iscegenation. Alcibiades DeBlanc of St. M artin Par* ish , th e founder of th e order, accused radicals of attem pting to tu rn th e southern sta te s into “A frican provinces” and of inciting th eir black dupes to acts of barbarism . As usual a t the beginning of a cam paign, w hite L ouisianians claim ed arm ed blacks were terrorizing th e state.96 For th e m ost p art, these incendiaries were products of fevered im agi nations, in contrast to th e all too tangible Democratic n ight riders. The K nights of th e W hite C am ellia and other such groups broke up Repub lican m eetings and destroyed Republican ballots, th u s paralyzing th e party in m any sections of th e state. Voter intim idation consisted of w arning blacks not to vote Republican, th eir “voluntary” enlistm ent in Democratic clubs, and forcing them to sign pledges to vote Democratic. B eatings and d eath th re a ts brought relu ctan t converts into line.67 Al though these outrages were concentrated in th e Florida parishes of southeastern Louisiana and in th e extrem e northern p a rt of th e state, no area escaped unscathed. Freedm an's B ureau officers, parish officials, and black politicians received anonym ous th re a ts and not so anonymous m ention in K lan or K nights new spaper notices. R egistration officials enrolled black voters a t some peril to them selves. As in Georgia, th e m urder of selected Republicans served as an object lesson to th e rank and file. W hen black leader Jo h n Kemp of St. H elena P arish w as assassinated in late Oc tober, Negro Republicans abandoned th eir efforts to resist Democratic regulators. A lthough th e Republicans saw evidence of a m assive con spiracy in these outrages, in Louisiana as elsewhere, w hite terro rists w ere not organized beyond th e local level. The New Orleans Picayune w as perhaps correct in asserting th a t m any of th e m urders were for personal ra th e r th an political reasons, but th e line between p artisan intim idation and private vendetta was often th in .86 Persecution in any form could have th e sam e political result. Besides scattered acts of violence, th ere were also full-scale race riots. In Bossier P arish in th e far northw estern corner of th e state, arm ed and drunken Negroes tied up and beat an A rkansas cotton salesm an who had snapped h is pistol a t one of them . A fter the blacks killed two other m en on Septem ber 30, a body of arm ed w hites, m any from A rkansas, surrounded th e Negroes on a plantation and m urdered a t least one hundred of them . C onservatives blam ed w hite radicals for inciting the blacks, b u t the resulting slaughter, even by Levitical standards of pun ishm ent, hardly fit th e crim e.96 T his mob apparently acted w ith no obvious p artisan purpose b u t m assacred blacks indiscrim inately. In S t Landry P arish mob violence w as more overtly political but equally deadly. Located in south-central Louisiana, St. Landry had a large black population, few native Republicans, and two prom inent
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carpetbaggers, Em erson Bentley and M ichael V idal, th e publishers of th e radical S t. L andry Progress. A lthough th e Dem ocrats had easily carried th e parish in th e A pril sta te elections, by sum m er th e Republicans w ere b e tter organized and held m eetings w ith black sentinels stan d in g guard. W hites suspected th e carpetbag leaders of m aking incendiary speeches a t these gatherings, and a rum or circulated th a t th e blacks intended to b urn down th e sm all town of W ashington. Con servative sources alleged th a t B entley had advised th e blacks to use m atches d u rin g th e cam paign and had prevented them from attending Dem ocratic rallies. O n Septem ber 28, two w hites visited Bentley a t a school he had se t up for th e black children in th e parish and severely caned him for an article he had w ritten attack in g th e terrorism of th e Dem ocratic clubs. The schoolchildren ra n from th e building scream ing th a t th e ir teach er had been m urdered. Excited Republicans of both races converged on Opelousas, th e p ar ish’s larg est town. A fter blacks and w hites exchanged gunfire n ear th e o u tsk irts of town, w hite bands fanned o u t along th e country roads, captured tw enty-nine black m en, and hauled them back to th e ja il in Opelousas. The next day a mob seized all b u t two of th e prisoners and shot them to death. N ight rid ers again moved into th e countryside, b ru tally m urdering any blacks they could find. Republicans la te r esti m ated th a t D em ocratic d u b s had slain some two hundred, and th e D em ocrats conceded th a t tw enty-five to th irty had been killed. The D em ocrats had assured th e ir victory in th e election. One w itness told a congressional investigating com m ittee th a t "the Republican p arty had ceased to exist in St. Landry.”60 W ith its long trad itio n of political w arfare from th e days of th e Know N othings through th e rio t of 1866, New O rleans could hardly have escaped bloodshed during th e 1868 cam paign. W arm oth la ter de scribed th e d ty a t th a t tim e as "dirty, im poverished. . . w ith a m ixed, ignorant, corrupt, and bloodthirsty gang in control. It w as flooded w ith lotteries, gam bling dens, and licensed brothels. M any of the city offi cials, as w ell as th e police force, w ere thugs and m urderers.” By Sep tem ber, p artisan excitem ent had m ade New O rleans a powder keg. The D em ocrats raised th e ir perennial cries of Negro insurrection and com plained of blacks parading in th e stre ets com m itting untold outrages and terrify in g w hite citizens.61 T aking advantage of police inefficiency, New O rleans conservatives form ed quasi-m ilitary organizations such as th e C rescent C ity Demo cratic Club and th e Seym our Legion. These groups patrolled th e streets, ostensibly to control black crim e, b u t th eir opponents saw th e ir real purpose as assau ltin g Republicans. U nited S tates M arshal Stephen B. Packard com plained th a t Dem ocrats regularly stole weap-
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« n s from local gun shops. One anxious radical reportad th a t Dem ocrats planned to sound th e fire alarm a s a signal to begin a m assacre of th e R epublicans in th e city.6* Federal troops nervously w atched the growing disorder under W ar D epartm ent instructions to rem ain a le rt for signs of trouble. Conserva tiv e G eneral Lovell H. Rousseau» comm ander of th e soldiers in th e sta te , feared th e grow ing mob sp irit and realistically concluded th a t th e p artisan police force would be useless should disturbances arise.6* N either th e Johnson adm inistration nor Rousseau w as w illing to use th e available forces to protect Republicans, thereby allow ing th e D em ocrats to act w ith im punity. T he first significant outbreak occurred on th e evening o f Septem ber 22, w hen black and w hite political processions clashed. As th e black G ran t and C onstitution clubs m arched along C anal S treet, a w hite m an on a balcony let o u t a yell for H oratio Seym our and Francis P. B lair, J r., th e Dem ocratic presidential and vice-presidential nom inees. T he blacks charged th e building, broke through th e doors and windows o f a re stau ran t, and fired. M em bers of a Democratic club rushed into th e m elee, h u rlin g rocks and using th e ir knives and pistols ag ain st th e blacks. O ne black m an died in th e fighting, and several persons on both sides w ere injured before th e m ilitary and th e police finally re stored order. C rediting w hite incendiaries w ith stirrin g blacks to com m it aggressive acts, th e editor of th e Picayune w arned th a t th e carpet baggers and scalaw ags would be held personally answ erable for futu re racial disturbances.6* D uring October, th e Dem ocratic clubs became m ore brazen, break ing up Republican m eetings, burning schools and churches, and m urdering Negroes. The predom inantly black M etropolitan Police could n o t m ake a rre sts because w hite bands patrolled m uch of th e city and th reaten ed to attack them if they tried to curb th e bands. On O ctober 25, m em bers of th e Dem ocratic W orkingm en's C lub disrupted a Republican procession and killed several blacks. A fter in itially flee ing from th e ir assailan ts, th e Negroes grabbed th e ir weapons and shot a t w hite m en on th e stre ets u n til soldiers arrived to restore order. D espite th e stren g th of th e Republican d u b s and th e apparent w illing ness of th e blacks to m atch th e ir enem ies blow for blow and shot for shot, w hite Republicans in letters to th eir northern political supporters painted a picture of cowering Negroes intim idated by arm ed w hites .65 Besides revealing some of th e racial preconceptions of w hite Republi can leaders, th e ir reports of black cowardice show th a t paternalism could exist on both ends of th e political spectrum . Did the carpetbagg e n and scalaw ags fear race w ar as m uch as th e Democrats, or w e n they more concerned about black assertiveness w ithin th e Republican
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party and th e ir own positions of power? Scalawags in particu lar were sensitive about th e costs of unleashing th eir black supporters against w hite terro rists, and th e ir hesitation often proved fatal because it allowed Dem ocrats to tak e th e offensive. Ignoring Governor W arm oth's proclam ation requesting th a t n eith er party hold any more political dem onstrations before election day, th e Democratic clubs continued to ram page through th e streets. On th e evening of October 26, the Innocents, a m isnam ed polyglot group of Sicilians, Italian s, Spanish, Portuguese, M altese, L atin Am ericans, and Creoles, em ptied th e ir guns into Republican clubrooms. W hen one of th e ir m em bers was slain in the retu rn fire, th e Innocents ransacked Negro homes and Republican headquarters. The M etropolitans were powerless and greatly feared for th e ir own lives. C asualty estim ates ranged from a score to well over a hundred.46 D iese pitched battles in the streets of New O rleans pointed up the inability of th e sta te govern m ent to protect its citizens in its own capital. In th e m idst of burgeoning disorders in Georgia, Louisiana, and other southern states, th e arm y rem ained uncertain about its role. Southern governors sen t num erous requests to W ashington for addi tional soldiers in the hope th a t more troops would deter Democratic outrages and ensure a peaceful election. Soldiers were already sta tioned in th e South, and southern Republican leaders sometimes dic tated th eir distribution w ithin th e states. The Johnson adm inistration nevertheless informed sta te officials th a t they were responsible for keeping th e peace and should call for federal help only if faced w ith overwhelm ing resistance. G eneral George G. Meade, the commander of the D epartm ent of th e South (which then included the states of N orth C arolina, South C arolina, Georgia, Florida, and Alabam a), did not have enough m en to m eet all th e pleas for assistance. The shortage of troops and lim itations on th e ir employment placed the generals in an uncom fortable position. An exam ple is th e vague instructions of Secretary of W ar Jo h n M. Schofield and President Johnson to G eneral Rousseau in Louisiana to prevent bloodshed w ithout interfering w ith th e functions of civil governm ent. The bewildered general w as left to stum ble about on his own in th e quicksands of Louisiana politics. The arm y therefore assum ed a largely passive role during the canvass, intervening only to suppress some of the more sanguinary disturb ances and providing th e beleaguered Republicana w ith virtually no protection.67 E arly in th e cam paign, some Republican leaders had realized th a t conservative intim idation would resu lt in a Democratic victory. By October, the situation seemed hopeless, a t least in Georgia and Louisi ana. N ight riding had cowed Republican voters, and Democrats th reat-
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en ed to ta k e control o f th e election m achinery.“ Although th ere were no nuoor disturbances on election day, radicals in Georgia and South C arolina com plained th a t arm ed (and som etim es disguised) Klansm en prevented blacks from voting. Democratic election officials challenged N egro voters a t th e polls, and w hites crowded around th e ballot boxes to stop R epublicans from depositing th eir tickets. The police in several tow ns and cities chased blacks from th e polls and shot some voters.“ Aided by intim idation and terrorism , th e Dem ocrats carried two southern states. Some black voters in Georgia, justifiably frightened by th re a ts from th e Ku K lux K lan, eith er did not go to th e polls or voted Dem ocratic. In Louisiana, Republicans advised th e ir followers n o t to vote if to do so would risk th e ir lives. As a resu lt, th e party received b u t a handful of votes in several parishes th a t had gone strongly Republican in th e A pril sta te elections. The outcome of th e voting unm istakably dem onstrated th a t even a crudely conceived and badly organised cam paign of coercion and violence could significantly reduce Republican stren g th in th e South.70 The election also reveals two im portant generalisations about th e role and efficacy of th re a ts and bullets in a national political contest. T he bloodshed in 1868 was spread, albeit unevenly, across m uch of the South, ham pering th e federal governm ent's use of th e arm y to quell, m uch less prevent, disturbances. B ut only in Georgia and Louisiana w ere th e w hites sufficiently organised to employ violent m ethods th a t would affect th e outcome of th e balloting. D isorders in a national cam* paign m ight be difficult to suppress, b u t th eir effect is also easy to negate. H ad th e resu lt been close, th e Republicans eith er would have refused to count th e electoral votes from Georgia and Louisiana or would have investigated th e outrages and aw arded th e states' electoral votes to G rant. As it happened, th e House and Senate were unable to agree on w hether G eorgia's electoral vote should be counted. In a sta te election, it would have been m uch hard er for th e federal governm ent to rem edy th e effects of irreg u larities because federal intervention would have few er constitutional buttresses and much less public support. By 1876 th e Republicans found it m uch m ore acceptable to "count in" th e ir presidential candidate th an to aid southern Republicans in b it terly contested sta te races. T his lesson w as not lost on conservative southerners. A lthough m any politicians would flirt w ith Liberal Republicanism , support Hor ace G reeley in 1872, and stum p for Sam uel Tilden in 1876, they never again considered national elections or national party leaders th e keys to salvation. A fter G rant’s inauguration, th e atten tio n of th e w hite South tu rn ed inw ard tow ard the operation of th e Republican sta te and local governm ents. T hereafter, th e revolt ag ain st Reconstruction took
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place on these levels, steadily eroding Republican and black power and eventually restoring w hite Democratic hegemony. Conservative southerners’ atten tio n to sta te and local governm ents added considerable depth to conservative perceptions about revolution and counterrevolution. M any w hites perceived th e Reconstruction re gim es as petty tyrannies. To them th e illegitim ate n atu re of Republi can ru le justified revolutionary action. The rhetoric and depth of emo tion in m any public and private statem ents on these issues precluded m oderation or gradualism . Since peaceful m ethods had failed to achieve th e liberation of th e southern hom eland, perhaps only th e knife, the rope, and th e gun could drive th e Republicans from power. Few southerners probably were as rabid in such convictions as Ryland Randolph, editor of th e Tuscaloosa Independent M onitor, who called for a general m assacre of radical leaders w henever a racial disturbance took place. Y et neith er would m any w hites actively oppose terrorism . E. Jo h n E llis of Louisiana, a respectable law yer, businessm an, and conservative politician, w rote alm ost whim sically, “If th ere was one hope of successful arm ed revolution 1 would be w illing to en list for life."71 The p ath of resistance to Reconstruction in several states would therefore be strew n w ith dead bodies, both black and w hite.
6 . The O rigins of th e Counterrevolution
V h e reality of Republican ru le seemed nearly to m atch conserva tiv e southerners’ woret prophecies. N ot only did the new regim e lack legitim acy and constitutional authority, b u t it w as also an engine of oppression. Excluded from th e inner circles of power, form er Confeder ates stood outside th e political process and lacked not only control but nonviolent channels through which to express th eir hostility.1Because they w ere sh u t out of th e governing process, they saw them selves as im potent. Such a situ atio n in which ru lers are or seem to be unrespon sive to th e aspirations of a large group encourages civil violence.3 The peculiarity, if th e not th e perverseness, of lum ping southern conserva tives w ith third-w orld revolutionaries or tw entieth-century black power advocates is obvious, but clearly th eir perceptions of the estab lished order are rem arkably sim ilar. The sense of deprivation and fru stratio n m ust have been more intense for southern leaders because they had long been accustomed to w ielding substantial influence. T heir feelings of powerlessness and n atu ral antipathy tow ard those in power led m any southerners to exaggerate the defects of th e new governm ents. R evisionist scholars have corrected m any hyperbolic statem ents about oppressive taxation, extravagant public expendi tures, and official peculation, b u t reality does not account for the inten sity of th e opposition or th e ferocity of th e resistance. W hatever th eir basis in fact, vigorous condem nations of corruption became a rallying cry for th e crusade ag ainst Republican Reconstruction.3 The central issue, however, w as not th e fiscal irresponsibility of th e carpetbaggers, scalaw ags, and blacks b u t th e ir base purpose and unscrupulous m eans. In th e first heated response to th e Reconstruction acts, conservatives stressed th e ir unprecedented and revolutionary nature, b u t the persis tence of th is line of attack dem onstrates both the political usefulness of the critique and th e sincerity of those m aking th e charges. Even as the
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BUT THERE WAS NO PEACE
southern governm ents began operation, th eir opponents saw th e rad i cals as zealots whose goal w as th e complete centralization of govern m ent. A lthough th e m ore strid en t critics were fanatics w ith lim ited influence, m any m en of norm ally m oderate views held forth in elo quent perorations ag ain st th e Republican governm ents. Linton S te phens of Georgia, a tem perate m an who opposed extrem ism , presented a searing analysis of a world turned upside down: These revolutionary governments are in the hands of carpet-baggers and scalawags, who treat the laws of their own organization with disgraceful contempt; and, under the forms of official authority, heap upon our people injuries and insults which never before were borne by men born and brad and educated in the principles of Liberty. Shameless plunder, malignant slander, corrupt favoritism, impunity for crimes committed by the partisans of the Government, gigantic extension of the credit of the States to penniless adventurers who come among us under the false and fraudulent plea of “developing our resources,” robbery of the very negroes who are sought to be used as the chief instrument of upholding this gigantic system of revolution ary fraud and force—these are the fruits of these revolutionary govern ments. These are the products of reconstruction.4 T his com prehensive lis t of Republican crim es, however, lacked one essential item . T h e history of th e Radical p arty proves," M ississippi Dem ocrats resolved in 1868, "th a t they are even now engaged in th e work of A fricanizing th e Southern S tates by establishing negro ru le and negro suprem acy." T his statem en t ignored th e fact th a t blacks held relatively few public offices and never "ruled" any state. Southern w hites believed they were dom inated by th e ir form er slaves, and th is belief w as a prim ary cause for th e eruption of violence. The veteran politicians' personal revulsion ag ain st sittin g w ith Negroes in legisla tive assem blies only intensified alarm s about "A fricanization."6 The program of black suprem acy seemed even m ore outrageous be cause th e radicals were unblushing hypocrites. Before th e passage of th e F ifteenth Am endm ent, southern conservatives, w ith some ju stifi cation, pointed out th a t Republicans were w illing to impose black suf frage on th e South b u t feared to broach th e subject among th eir own constituents. E ditors em phasized racial prejudice in th e N orth to illu s tra te radical duplicity; as one N orth C arolina new spaper p u t it, "O ur N orthern friends do not like th e ta ste of th e cup they prepared for th eir Southern brethren." T his bittem ess led to th e half-facetious sug gestion th a t southerners elect only blacks to Congress and see how advocates of Negro suprem acy would respond.6 Such idle speculation perhaps served as an o u tlet for angry m en, but it also dem onstrated enorm ous self-delusion. To expose th e inaccuracy of th e m yth of "radical Reconstruction” is
The O rigins of th e Counterrevolution
83
not, how ever, to exorcise its influence. By w riting th eir own version of R econstruction history, conservative southerners had a ready-m ade defense of w hite suprem acy. They had only to conjure up th e horrors of black ru le and all dissent disappeared. Such potent social m yths have often generated popular un rest, and in th is case they served as formid able justification for violent resistance to Reconstruction.7 S outhern outrage over m ilitary Reconstruction guaranteed open de fiance of th e newly established authorities. uHow long can these things be,” th e editor of th e A tla n ta C onstitution asked, "and retributive ju s tice n o t overtake th e ir [the radicals’] crim es?” Less discreet editors asserted th a t only federal bayonets could enforce Negro rule in th e southern states and w arned th a t Y ankee oppressors would eventually m eet th e fate of all ty ran ts. N orth C arolina Bourbon spokesm an Josiah T u rn er explained th e eruption of racial violence in M ississippi as "the direct, n a tu ra l, logical consequence of negro suprem acy. W hite m en w ill not, they ought not, to subm it to th e control of an inferior race of people. We should despise our own blood, our own people, if peacefully and tam ely subm itted to th e dom inance of th e African.”* Resistance to ty ran n y , in th is schem a, became a sacred duty to past, present, and fu tu re generations. P articu lar enem ies of th e commonweal were easily identified. The popular stereotypes of th e carpetbagger and scalaw ag developed early in th e Reconstruction period, when th e ir very nam es became symbols of unalloyed evil. The m ere m ention of a prom inent w hite Republican by an editor or stum p speaker produced a heated response am ong the w hite meases.* "The day w ill come,” Josiah T urner w arned, "when all or m any of such crim es w ill be m ercilessly exposed. And such perpetra to rs o f crim e w ill henceforth be a stench in th e nostrils of all decent m en, w hite and black. Everybody w ill hate them , mock and hiss a t them aa they pass by.”10To say th a t a carpetbagger w as more despised th a n a scalaw ag would be sim ilar to saying th a t one skunk em itted a stronger odor th an another. In th e pantheon of southern villains, the carpetbagger and th e scalaw ag occupied positions of equal ignominy. C arpetbaggers easily aroused conservative w rath for causing racial disturbances; editors suggested th a t they be "dispatched” w henever racial violence erupted. As F aulkner’s B rasilia Sartoris pointed out in explaining th e political terrorism practiced by h er ancestors, killing carpetbaggers w as justified because "they were northerners, foreigners who had no business here. They were pirates.”11 Southern conservatives m ight dream of a m ass auto-da-fe of radicals, b u t they could not heedlessly execute th e ir enem ies. The m urder of a w hite person, even a carpetbagger or scalaw ag, was a serious m atter th a t m ight provoke federal intervention. If an attack against a "real”
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BUT THERE WAS NO PEACE
enem y is too dangerous, aggrieved individuals commonly displace th e ir hostility onto a person or group th a t is unlikely or unable to retaliate. Because southerners could not avenge them selves directly on th e hated Y ankees, they took out th eir frustrations in b ru tal attack s on N egroes.12 Though conservative spokesm en never adm itted th e logical connection betw een the risk of assaulting w hite Republicans and th e freedom to comm it violence ag ainst blacks, th e action of w hite mobs illu strated th is rationale a t work. In th e scattered acts of violence against w hite Republicans th a t did occur. Dem ocrats placed m ore blam e on th e victim th an on th e perpe tra to r. The R epublicans' g reatest crim e w as seen as th eir control over th e loyalty and especially th e votes of black m en. According to conser vatives, th e designing radicals filled th e heads of Negroes w ith false notions of th eir own im portance and lies about th eir w hite neighbors. If th e carpetbaggers and scalaw ags would leave, a n atu ral harm ony would re tu rn to race relations. As a disgruntled N orth C arolinian put it, "The people are disquieted by th e travelling political trick sters and in trig u e rs.. . . It [the South] is filled w ith rogues, thieves, liars, drun kards and political m ountebanks.”13 Republican m achinations were insidious, m ysterious, exasperating, b u t above all dangerous. W hen conservative new spapers spoke of "radical incendiaries,” they m eant precisely th a t. Men who advised patience and peaceful protest often did so not because of m oral objection to th e use of force b u t because it would only help th e Republicans. Indeed, m any conservative editors argued th a t th e ir enem ies w anted to provoke outbreaks in th e South sim ply to w in votes in th e N orth. T his v ast intersectional con spiracy to fom ent race w ar for political gain m ade each rio t p a rt of a larg er design. The editor of th o A tla n ta C onstitution even charged th a t "loyal m en” would deliberately m urder each other to ensure the ascen dancy of th e radical p arty by placing th e southern states back under m ilitary rule. These conscienceless m anipulators, trum peted th e A u g u sta C hronicle and Sentinel, would "prefer to see th e black race exter m inated or driven from our borders—to w itness th e sm oking ruins of desolated hom es—to h ear th e cries of widows and th e w ails of orphans over th e stiffened corpse of th e assassinated husband and fath er—to see th is fair land drenched in blood from th e Potomac to th e Rio G rande—ra th e r th an lose th eir power.”14 Republican organizing efforts, black political activity, and w hite paranoia caused rum ors of Negro insurrections in southern communi ties long a fte r the in itia l period of labor u n rest during presidential Reconstruction. Local panics commonly began w ith tales of arson plots and arm s caches and ended w ith the a rre st of several blacks. A lthough often connected w ith political excitem ent, these alarm s were not con-
The O rigins of the Counterrevolution
85
fined to election cam paigns or to states where Republicans still held pow er.16 The U nion League w as to w hite conservatives by far th e m ost d an gerous Republican organization. Founded in th e N orth during th e w ar, th e U nion League of Am erica established chapters in the South early in th e Reconstruction period. The southern branch, commonly called th e Loyal League and consisting prim arily of blacks enrolled by w hite radicals, was both a social and a political organization designed to m obilize Republican electoral strength. W hite southerners believed th a t th e clandestine m eetings, th e ritu als, and th e elaborate regalia attracted superstitious blacks. A lthough th is may have been tru e for some Negroes, m any m ore were m otivated by th e League’s association w ith th e p arty of em ancipation. Because m em bers allegedly had to sign an oath sw earing they would vote Republican, Democrats be lieved them to be radical th ralls. The obvious irony is th a t conserva tiv es often sought to coerce blacks into supporting th e Democrats. T heir real objection to th e League was its political effectiveness.16 Inform ation on the operations of th e Loyal League is sketchy. There w ere occasional reports in some states of arm ed blacks m arching and d rillin g a t night. A lthough conservatives charged League m em bers w ith herding Negroes to th e polls and forcing them to vote Republican, th e evidence is vague, particularly about dates and places. The only serious incidence of violence occurred in F ranklin, Tennessee, in 1867, w hen League m em bers and conservatives shot a t each other in th e center of town for about an hour. Newspaper stories often lack specific inform ation; as a N orth C arolina Republican editor noted, w hites de nounced th e League in W ake County as incendiary because m em bers m arched to drum m usic and carried an Am erican flag.17 G iven th e conspiratorial m ind set of m any southerners, it is not surprising th a t they saw th e Loyal League as p a rt of a plot to alienate blacks from th e ir w hite employers, encourage arson against private property, and inaugurate a racial Armageddon in th e South. A careful reading of editorial comm ents on League activity shows th a t w hites were awed by if not envious of th e ability of th e radicals to control th eir black supporters. Yet th is supposedly solid Negro phalanx did not cow conservatives. As th e editor of the A ugusta C onstitutionalist grim ly noted, if th e League forced a violent collision upon the w hites, “they w ill not sh rin k from it, b u t ra th e r w ith all th e manhood of a proud and still powerful people m ake th e issue so complete th a t another shall be impossible.”16 The Loyal League provided an excuse for Ku Klux K lan raids. A reas of the g reatest League activity also w itnessed the m ost outrages com m itted ag ain st blacks by w hite vigilante groups.1* A standard conser-
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BUT THERE WAS NO PEACE
vative response to stories of K lan terrorism was th e counterclaim th a t radicals engaged in sim ilar activities through the Loyal League, b u t such reports were vague and are difficult to substantiate. The obvious political m otivation of th e conservative sources m akes such accounts as suspect as sim ilar Republican tales presented before congressional com m ittees.90 Republican sources do indicate th a t conservative blacks were some tim es bulldozed by th eir Republican brethren. D uring the excitem ent of a political canvass, Republican blacks jeered Democratic blacks who addressed public m eetings and threatened th e lives of these m en, whom they considered traito rs to th e race.21 Conservative intim idation of blacks m akes any estim ate of th e num bers of voluntary black Demo crats m eaningless and th e extent of Republican coercion impossible to determ ine. How m any outrages took place in th e South after th e passage of th e Reconstruction acts is unknown. The n ature and scope of the violence varied w ith th e political clim ate of each state or locality. In N orth C arolina, according to Freedm en’s B ureau com pilations, w hites a t tacked blacks several tim es each m onth during 1867 and 1868. If by Reconstruction standards N orth C arolina was relatively peaceful, Texas literally ran w ith blood. A com m ittee of th e Texas constitutional convention of 1868 reported some 939 homicides since the end of the war. T his to tal included 372 blacks m urdered by w hites b u t only 10 w hites killed by blacks. In 1872 th e U nited S tates attorney in w estern Texas estim ated th a t 2,000 m urders had occurred in the state since 1865, but how m any were racially or politically m otivated is unclear. Dem ocrats downplayed th e significance of these figures; Republicans were sure th a t th e “rebel Democracy” was responsible for most of these crim es.22 The complexity of th is violence generally escaped the notice of p arti san com m entators. The comm issioner of th e Freedm en’s B ureau, Gen eral O. O. Howard, who was not inclined to underestim ate the racial anim us of southern w hites, reported in 1869 th a t many of the attacks on blacks w ere com m itted by “bands of law less men, organized under various nam es, whose principal objects were robbery and plunder." Southern conservatives asserted th a t most of th e region’s m urders had no political overtones, and they denied th a t Union m en and blacks were special targ ets of attack. Despite differences on th e origins of th e bloodshed, th e p arties often agreed about the seriousness of the d is orders. The New O rleans Republican described the violence as a “Mor a l ulcer" on th e body politic. Because the community failed to tak e action against th e disease, it w as “spreading and inflam ing healthy m em bers."22
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A lthough historians have not given th e southern court system th e detailed study it deserves, contem porary observers had little good to say about th e judicial process, particularly in th e frontier regions. Civil officials in Louisiana and Texas often failed to arrest, indict, or try crim inals: G eneral A bner Doubleday claim ed th a t no w hite m an in Texas had been punished for m urder since th e revolt against Mexico.94 W hen a black w as the victim , there was even less chance of bringing th e guilty party to justice .\Some w hites still believed it was not a crim e ag ain st God or m an to k ill a Negro, and in the rare instance when such a case cam e to court, th e ju ry usually brought in a verdict ofjustifiable homicide. Public indifference was even greater when one black person m urdered another.2*^ H ie new sta te governm ents set up under th e Reconstruction acts did little to improve th e quality of southern justice. A South Carolina Republican editor w rote th a t if a w hite m an committed an offense against a black m an, his chance for conviction was one in one hundred. To be sure, prejudiced and incom petent local officials ham strung the legal process, b u t th e real difficulty lay outside the courtroom. Peace ful citizens protected th e guilty p arties and either out of sym pathy for o r fear of them refused to support attem pts to suppress disorder.1* Conservatives recognized th e political ram ifications of violence. Sev eral editors charged th a t radicals in W ashington subsidized Republi can new spapers in th e South whose chief task was to m anufacture fresh tales of w hite barbarism . Such false reports m isled northern citizens by perpetuating th e m yth of an unreconstructed South.*7 In deed, in comparison to the northern states, southerners described th eir society as the em bodim ent of law and order—a t least in areas under Democratic control. N orthern crim e rates, conservative spokesmen claim ed, far exceeded those of th e southern states, and therefore th e public outcry about southern outrages was sheer hypocrisy and politi cal flimflam. E ditorial w riters eagerly seized on accounts of northern violence, particularly th e lynching of blacks, to show th a t the region was infested by bloodthirsty mobs.1* This effort to wave th e bloody sh irt in th e opposite direction failed. The crim e and violence in th e N orth could not obliterate th e record of southern night riding. The preponderance of violence during election cam paigns m akes its p artisan purpose unquestionable. Rioting became a fam iliar p art of th e political process. Intim idation w as particularly effective against local officials who were far from m ilitary protection. Republican registrars of voters faced th rea ts and occasional assaults from w hites who swore they would never allow blacks to vote.2* Union m en had long felt th e Any of rebel w rath, but th eir northern political allies soon got a firsthand taste of Confederate hospitality.
BUTTHERE WAS NO PEACE
D uring th e spring and sum m er of 1867, several northern Republicans, including Congressm an W illiam D. “Pig Iron” Kelley of Pennsylvania, toured th e South on a proselytizing m ission. Most com m unities greeted these radical em issaries w ith coolness or disdain. In Mobile, Alabam a, on May 14, Kelley spoke to a crowd of some four thousand persons, most of whom were black. The Pennsylvanian delivered a rousing stum p speech in which he blam ed the South for the w ar and defended th e rig h t of Republicans to cam paign freely in the rebel states. When a few w hite men in th e audience became unruly, Kelley boldly stated th a t he had federal troops a t his side. A gang of rowdies on the edge of th e crowd shouted such pleasantries as: “P u t him down!“ “Give th a t dog a bone.” “How m any Negroes and pianos did you steal?” When the chief of police tried to a rre st th e principal heckler, a scuffle ensued. This activity spooked a team of horses pulling an arm y ambulance, and they careened dangerously tow ard the crowd. Shots rang out from the rear of the mob, blacks fired th eir guns into the air, and m any persons took to th eir heels. W hen th e shooting began, Kelley had ducked under a table, and some friends spirited him away to his hotel, where a m ilitary guard protected him u n til he left the city.90 T heir b rief encounter w ith political violence probably did not perm a nently im press these northern politicians because they could go home. T heir southern brethren could not escape and often received th rea ts against th eir lives during hotly contested election campaigns. A ttacks on state and m inor federal officials occurred sporadically but fre quently enough to m ake it plain th a t being a southern Republican could be hazardous to life and limb. C arpetbaggers and scalawags sent impassioned letters to th eir friends in W ashington pleading for protec tion. A lthough some of these bloodcurdling accounts may be dism issed as self-serving and p artisan , they present a frightening picture of per secution and terrorism .91 The irreg u larities and disruption on election day m ake any detailed analysis of voting behavior m eaningless. D uring th e ratification elec tion for M ississippi’s new sta te constitution in the spring of 1868, w hites crowded th e polls in several counties and assaulted black voters. More dispassionate m en quietly but openly took down the nam es of blacks who voted for th e constitution. The use to which th is list w as p u t is not known, b u t its compilation m ust have had a chilling effect on th e newly enfranchised blacks. Such practices became in creasingly common in southern elections for the rest of the century.99 Although scalawags and carpetbaggers were sometimes threatened and attacked, arm ed w hites directed m ost of th eir attention to the blacks. If they could eith er be “persuaded” not to vote or to vote Demo cratic, the strength of the Republican party would disappear.
The O rigins of tbe Counterrevolution
C lever conservatives wooed blades by bribery, trickery, and legal technicalities. Blacks were plied w ith liquor to prevent them from going to the polls or to win besotted converts to th e Democracy. A rdent p arty w orkers stuffed ballot boxes or paid off Republican election offi cials for a favorable count. Since m ost blacks were illiterate, unscrupu lous m en substituted printed advertisem ents and other worthless pieces of paper for Republican tickets. Conservatives upbraided radi cals for herding underage blacks to th e polls and encouraging th eir supporters to vote several tim es, b u t they were not averse to using repeaters on th e ir own side.* Even during relatively peaceful canvasses, wild rum ors and in flam ed passions could lead to bloodshed. In Donaldson vil le, Louisiana, a sm all town on the w est side of th e M ississippi River below Baton Rouge, U nited S tates troops w atching over th e polls on election day in 1870 started fires to keep warm , and panicky w hites suspected the Negroes were burning down the town. The Democrats, who had lost th e election, planned to seise the ballot boxes in town and prevent the comm issioners of election from collecting the boxes on the east side of th e river. H earing of th is scheme, black m ilitiam en m arched into Don aldson ville to stop th e Democrats but instead clashed w ith w hite Re publican leaders. This quarrel of hazy origins led to the m urder of the m ayor and a local judge, both Republicans apparently killed by th eir p artisans. The disturbance thw arted th e Democrats, and the Republi can candidates eventually took office. A sim ilar attem pt by Democrats to steal th e ballots in Baton Rouge caused a rio t in which several black m en w ere killed or wounded and U nited S tates troops finally had to restore order.84 F raud and coercion took m any forms, including th e exploitation of black poverty. Conservatives m aintained th a t planters and other em ployers should not h ire Negroes who voted Republican or were active in th e Union League. They likewise w ithdrew th eir patronage from “radical” draym en, barbers, and porters. W hite leaders confidently ex pected to show the blacks w here th eir tru e interests lay and thereby win th eir votes.*6 U nder attack from northern politicians for intim idating blacks, southerners responded th a t to rew ard friends and punish enem ies was n atu ral. Employers cited th e traditions of th e common law and liberty of contract in defending th eir rig h t to dism iss lab o ren who were politi cally hostile. Dem ocrats asserted th a t they coerced v o ten less effec tively th an th e radical Loyal Leagues and added, w ith some tru th , th a t northern em ployers of both p arties had long dictated the votes of th eir workers.38 A variety of economic weapons were applied against blacks. P la n te n
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warned th eir field hands th a t if they voted Republican they would have to leave both th eir jobs and th eir homes. Farm ers made inform al agreem ents not to hire Republican blacks or those discharged by other employers; physicians threatened to withhold medical services. D uring election cam paigns, w hites organized Negro Democratic clubs by prom ising employm ent and protection for the members. When attem pts to keep the freedm en ignorant of voter registration and elections failed, a more direct approach was taken. A Tennessean later recalled: W I had fully made up my m ind th a t to be governed by my former slaves was an ignominy which I should not and would not endure.” On election day he gathered up his black laborers, handed them all conservative tick ets, m arched them to th e polls, and watched them cast th eir ballots.87 Throughout the South, employers carried out th eir th reats by dis m issing or refusing to m ake new contracts w ith Republican blades. In some areas, planters drove the Negroes from th eir homes.8*Although it is not possible to m easure precisely the im pact of th is economic intim i dation, it was probably not nearly so effective as contemporary ob servers or later historians have contended. A persistent labor shortage in the postw ar South m ade it im practical to hire only Negroes who eith er did not vote or supported th e conservatives. Some employers who tried to control th e political activities of th eir workers found them selves w ithout hands and forced to hire w hite men and black women, who were unsatisfactory. Shrewd blacks joined the Democratic d u b s and made fulsome prom ises to support the Democratic ticket b u t qui etly cast th eir Republican ballots on election day. Blinded by a deter m ination to end Reconstruction in th eir states, some southerners made a substantial m onetary sacrifice by refusing to employ men of unsound political principles.9* W hatever lim ited success economic coercion produced came about because the region’s economy failed to grow after Appomattox. The South rem ained predom inantly agricultural, and farm ers and planters were more dependent on cotton th an ever. Food production fell sharply, so both large and sm all operators ceased to be self-sufficient. W hite and black farm ers became enmeshed in the crop lien system —an a r rangem ent th a t bound them to the soil alm ost as effectively as the laws and custom s of feudal Europe. The self-destructive cycle of overproduc tion, declining crop prices, and burgeoning debt made th e South th e nation’s poor relation for the next century. The signs of decay were all about: precipitous drops in land values, frequent tax forfeiture sales, and general discontent w ith sharecropping by both races. The panic of 1873 m erely added to th e economic weaknesses of the southern econ omy and plunged the region into a depression whose effects would linger for th e rest of th e century.40
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Postw ar southerners suffered economically, from w hat Ted G urr has called “décrém entai deprivation." T heir expectations reflected th e flush tim es of th e 1850s, b u t th eir m eans declined so precipitously th a t th e gap betw een goals mid capabilities widened. A ttem pts to correlate lynchings w ith various economic indexes have produced inconsistent results; to argue th a t hard tim es cause violence oversimplifies a com* plex relationship. Y et financial distress and Reconstruction violence d e arly were related. W hen black workers were brought into Orange County, Florida, to d e a r land for orange groves, for example, local "crackers’* attacked th e ir camp and attem pted to drive them off. In an era of decreasing opportunity, unemployed or m arginally employed w hites readily blam ed Negroes for th eir plight.41 In th e late 1860s and early 1870s the South was in the throes of a social and economic revolution. The transition from slave to free labor came slowly, and th e place of blacks in southern society rem ained undeterm ined. A fter in itial hesitation and resistance, planters h alt ingly began to accept free labor and adjust th eir attitudes accordingly. T ravelers reported blacks working well and w hite farm ers generally satisfied, b u t m ost of th is evidence predates th e collapse of cotton prices in th e 1870s.4* The planters’ com m itm ent to paternalism some how survived in an unstable economic environm ent Picturing them selves as th e tru e friends of the Negro and the all-knowing providers of em ploym ent and sustenance for a benighted people, they glowingly described a m utuality of in terest between th e races th a t should keep them w orking together on th e land for generations. Explicit in th is belief w as th e idea th a t blacks should also vote w ith th eir w hite friends. B ut paternalism clearly failed a t the ballot box.4* Because black aspirations and ideas about the new economic order did not m atch those of m ost w hites, th e old paternalism and subm is siveness existed only on th e surface. N orthern and foreign travelers found Negroes working contentedly for th e form er slaveholders, but farm ers and planters knew better. D uring th e long, languid sum m er afternoons, m any w hite form ers sa t around complaining about black labor and even blam ed th e freedm en for crop failures. One disgusted Tennessean b itterly rem arked th a t he would lose his religion if it depended on "keeping my tem per w ith free Negroes, when work should be done.” A M ississippi planter, reflecting the prevailing w hite assess m ent of th e black character, wrote in his journal: "The leopard cannot change its spots and th e nigger w ill continue to rem ain as he is u n til th e Angel G abriel blows his horn."44 Postw ar labor difficulties led some southern w hites to th e uncomfort able conclusion th a t slavery and not th e Yankees had made the South economically backward. Supervising black labor, these men asserted,
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BUT THERE WAS NO PEACE
had drained th e region's physical and intellectual resources. The sooner the South was freed from th is curse the better, and promoters dream ed of im porting w hite or even Chinese workers to replace the Negroes. A t th e other extrem e were w hites who continued to curse em ancipation and long for th e restoration of slavery. As one angry N orth C arolinian put it, "The nigger, sir, is a savage whom the Al m ighty m aker appointed to be a sla v e.. . . W ith him free the South is ruined, sir, ruined.”48 A ttem pts to encourage im m igration failed mis erably; the underdeveloped South could not attract men seeking to improve th eir fortunes. D issatisfaction w ith labor arrangem ents was widespread and chronic. P lanters complained th a t the blacks grumbled about th eir wages and hours and shirked th eir duties during political campaigns. At the end of each growing season laborers left th eir employers, who were forced to look for replacem ents. Blacks were no happier th an th eir white bosses. Plantera took advantage of th eir illiteracy to cheat them a t the planta tion store and in draw ing up contracts. W hites resented blades who purchased th eir own land, and posses sometimes drove them off newly acquired homesteads.4* As alw ays, the keynote was race control; white landowners could not tolerate any labor system th a t jeopardized th eir dominance over black people. On rare occasions, blacks who could no longer abide harsh treatm ent struck back a t th eir torm entors. Planters who whipped black workers m ight be arrested by th e m ilitary or in extrem e cases assaulted by th eir employees.47 It is impossible to determ ine how m any of these conflicts became violent, but they were frequent enough to rem ind both races of the new order's fragility and instability. Economic problems m erely added to the South's political, social, and psychological tensions and fostered the expansion of the Ku Klux Klan. Although historians have stressed the political nature of Klan activities, the organization was concerned w ith race control in the broadest m eaning of th a t term and was especially sensitive to eco nomic and social challenges to w hite hegemony.48 The nature of its membership changed, more violent men became dom inant, and Klan groups behaved like ordinary crim inal bands. The K lan developed as p art of an American vigilante tradition. Men w illing to take the law into th eir own hands have commonly rational ized th eir actions by pointing to the corruption and ineffectiveness of state and local governm ents. Extralegal action therefore became n o ta m atter of personal whim or individual desire but of public necessity.48 Southerners w illing to acknowledge the existence of the Ku Klux argued th a t it was born to answ er the evils of Republican rule. “Op pression will ever produce resistance," cried the editor of the Charlea-
Tbe O rigins of the Counterrevolution
93
ton Courier, "and th e real cause of these difficulties.. . . [can] be a ttrib uted to an arb itrary and personally irresponsible constabulary, to an arm ed and defiant colored m ilitia, and to a constant and petty tyranny under th e forms of law, a t once a t variance w ith th e public peace and w elfare, and in violation of every elem ent of freedom.” Even after serving tim e in prison for n ight riding, Randolph Shotwell defended K lan terrorism by citing th e example of secret organizations formed in England, Ireland, and France to defy oppressive governm ents.80 K lan sym pathizers attem pted to explain away th eir m ost brutal acts by exaggerating th e evils of Republican rule and m ultiplying the hoi> rors of black suffrage and equality. On a cruder level, Klansm en talked of personal vengeance against radicals and th e need to suppress the Loyal Leagues. The editor of the A rkansas Gazette charged th a t the tru e Ku Klux were th e "radical carpet-bag vulturno the leeches who are sucking th e life-blood out of the south.” Yet as Republicans were quick to point out, the m ere th eft of public money paled before m urders com m itted by m en in disguise on behalf of the Democratic party.81 Conservatives defended vigilantism w ith the argum ent th a t th e form er Confederate states were in a condition of anarchy. For opposite reasons, Republicans had draw n th is conclusion all along. Intem perate conservatives w rote in lurid term s of a black crim e wave and argued th a t Negro burglars, rustlers, and m urderers were eith er protected or aided by Republican officials and if convicted were pardoned by Repub lican governors.82 An inefficient or corruptible legal process is likely to produce vigilantism ; the form ation of extralegal patrols generally has followed a series of public com plaints about unchecked lawlessness. T his obvious rationalization raises the problem of excusing "the people” tak in g the adm inistration of justice into th eir own hands. Richard Maxwell Brown has perceptively shown how th e idea of popu la r sovereignty, dating back to th e American Revolution, has but tressed th e private use of force to stop crim e.83 W hite southerners believed th e th ro at to society extended far beyond random crim inal acts. Form er Confederate General John B. Gordon of Georgia testified before th e congressional comm ittee investigating the Ku K lux outrages th a t th e K lan was organized in Georgia to prevent Negro insurrections. Josiah T urner charged th a t radicals had long conspired to fom ent a race w ar in the South patterned after the N at T urner slave revolt. Southern Republicans recognized th a t such alarm s provided a ready excuse to break up Republican m eetings and intim idate black voters.84 This perception of attack, however unrealis tic, tended to stim ulate aggression among w hites and also allowed them to palliate the m ost barbarous assaults.88 The events in L aurens County, South Carolina, in the fall of 1870
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illustrated th is concept of attack and self-defense in practice. W hite Republican Joe Crews organized a black m ilitia u n it in the county. Anxious w hites claim ed th a t the company’s drilling made it unsafe for respectable people to w alk the streets, end rum ors spread of a Negro plot to burn down the town of Laurensville. A false alarm in Septem ber placed the w hites on th eir guard, b u t th eir feverish precautions ap parently prevented Crews and his arm ed men from carrying out any incendiarism . On October 20 a street fight between a w hite conserva* tive and a constable resulted in several members of each race exchang ing shots. The better organized w hites then rushed to the houses ediere the m ilitia arm s were stored, grabbed the weapons, and began a gen eral assau lt on th e Negroes th a t sent them scurrying out of town. Posses roamed the countryside and killed an unknown num ber o f blacks.8* As a response to Republican “m isrule,” unchecked crim inal activity, black “insurrections," and the arm ing of the state m ilitias, the K lan sought to preserve the racial statu s quo, albeit to alter th e prevailing political balance. This conservative purpose does not m ean, however, th a t th e K lan was dom inated by th e w hite aristocracy; as recent schol arship has dem onstrated, members came from ail social and economic strata. In its early phases prom inent citizens led the organization, and Klan apologists have stressed th e respectability of the members. Raids were generally conducted by th e younger men, often the sons of planters and m erchants. K lan leaders played on the racial phobias of the yeoman and poor w hites to recruit members, and some dens did not scruple about adm itting men w ith crim inal records.87 The breadth of K lan m em bership resem bles th a t of other American vigilante groups, which were a t first controlled by elite citizens of th e community and won strong support among businessmen. Even those who participated in the violence were not the dregs of local society; studies of revolutionary crowds in Europe have shown th a t mobs usu ally consisted of artisan s and tradesm en rath er than street crim inals.8* The prominence of some K lan leaders strengthened the organization and helped it win wide community approval. Governor Rufus Bullock of Georgia charged th a t prom inent conservatives such as Robert Toombs and Benjamin Hill encouraged violence by th eir constant a t tacks on black suffrage and Republican officeholders. C ertainly the endorsem ent of the K lan by a N athan Bedford Forrest or a John B. Gordon helped increase membership. More im portant, th e presence of these men sanctified night riding because they served as models for more hum ble Klansm en.8* Klan activity b u ilt racial solidarity by bringing diverse individuals together for a common purpose. Rioting and raiding became an exprès-
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S io n o f collective values and a m eans to unify the w hite community. The southern aristocracy had long used the race question to avoid class conflict in th e South, and during Reconstruction racial concerns contin ued to transcend social and economic d iv isio n s" T his is not to say th a t th ere were no differences between leaders and ordinary m em bers in th e various dens. Around 1867 the founders be gan to lose control of the organization. Many of the K lan’s more notori ous raid s apparently took place w ithout th e knowledge or approval of th e m en nom inally in charge. The lack of central direction made each den a law unto itself and encouraged w hat m ight be called free-lance terrorism . Sketchy evidence indicates th a t th e K lan briefly disbanded in 1869 b u t soon reem erged as an even more violent body. Ironically, th e breakdown of leadership allowed some Klansm en to dism iss th e m ost bloody outrages by blam ing them on irregular n ight riding by young m en who were not m embers of th e K lan. Y et th is distinction between "genuine K u K lux” and other arm ed bands is spurious; under w hatever nam e they operated, the results were the sam e. Indeed, if th e purpose of vigilantism , as Richard Maxwell Brown has argued, is to prevent th e lower classes from destroying th e structure of the commu nity, th e K lan in m any areas acted in such a way as to underm ine th e values its leaders claim ed to be preserving.*1 The n atu re of th e K lan appeal made these developments inevitable. The K lan overtly recruited frustrated individuals and in effect encour aged them to tran sfer blam e for th eir own personal failings from them selves to treacherous scalawags, wily carpetbaggers, or corrupt blacks. The offensive against Reconstruction rested on the assum ption th a t the South's suffering arose from external forces and internal treason. Angry young m en gained personal satisfaction and reaffirm ed th eir dedication to th e ideals of th eir fathers as p a rt of a m ass social move m ent. As th e carpetbagger C harles Stearns observed after his experi ences in Georgia, violence w as p a rt of the southern character, and no one should wonder a t th e hostility of the old Confederates: "The South ern people are none of your p atien t Jobs, b u t alm ost universally fiery Hotspurs; w ith whom a blow is sure to follow a word, and quite as often to come first. They are irascible by nature, and im petuous beyond conception. No southern m an dare call another a liar, w ithout being prepared for th e use of powder and ball.”*8 Despite a lack of organization and a tendency toward random terror ism , th e Ku Klux K lan had an overriding purpose—the destruction of th e Republican party in th e South. The K lan became, in effect, th e m ilitary arm of th e Democratic party. Although it is commonplace to speak of "senseless violence,” violence seldom occurs w ithout a cause. K lan raid s sought to achieve a p articular goal—the restoration of
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home rule in th e southern states. For the Klansm en them selves, night riding was a rational attem pt to resolve political conflict; if terrorism increased w hite solidarity, it also gave young men excluded from po litical power a sense of achievem ent denied them by the established political structure. W orking toward a specific goal may well have in* tensified K lan aggressiveness and probably increased the brutality of the raids.63 Ku Klux engaged in terrorism against Republican leaders across th e South. Klansm en in several north Florida counties forced Republican officials to resign during 1671. N ight riders in W arren County, Geor gia, assassinated local and sta te officials of both races. The message was as unm istakable as the medium. Republican leaders suddenly faced an apparent conspiracy to drive them out of the southern states.64 N ight raids against black’s homes, often including th reats and whip pings, struck a t the h eart of the Republican electorate. Although a frightened justice of th e peace in Alamance County, N orth Carolina, claimed there was no excuse for th is violence, the perpetrators always had an excuse. If several blacks were m urdered in one county, th e price of being a Republican became terrifyingly apparent. Likewise, the as sassination of black officeholders starkly revealed the consequences of political activism .66 This violence was squarely w ithin th e tradition of American mob behavior. H iere was no general slaughter of black men, as excited southern Republicans sometimes claimed. Although m any assaults were capricious, selective attacks on influential Republicans made the desired im pression on th e m asses.66More effective than random terro r ism, carefully executed raids against blacks naturally resulted in fear. The diffuse and disorganized n ature of the K lan lim ited its success in ending Republican rule in the southern states, but individual dens could be frighteningly efficient. Most of the white m ales in York County, South Carolina, were Klansm en. N ight riders system atically disarm ed black m ilitiam en, whipped several hundred blacks, and m urdered eleven men. Perhaps as m any as 160 people died in racial and political violence in Jackson County, Florida, between 1868 and 1871. Several political assassinations in any one county could end Republican activities there.67 More th an a m ilitary adjunct of the Democratic party, the K lan sought to preserve w hite economic and social power. Like the mobs of seventeenth-century England, K lan dens often had very specific local goals. This fact explains, for example, why night riding continued in Georgia and Alabam a after conservative election victories.66 If the K lan was a counterrevolutionary force in politics, it was a reactionary influence in society.
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Black economic advancem ent and especially landownership directly challenged m any cherished notions of w hite suprem acists. In areas w ith large Negro populations, th e K lan acted on behalf of planters who sought to m aintain a docile labor force. Elsewhere, w hite yeomen who feared com petition from black farm ers joined th e K lan to drive them off th e land. Alabam a posses crossed the border into eastern Missis sippi to apprehend blacks who had violated labor contracts. In re sponse, aim ed Negroes in M eridian paraded against night riders d u r ing th e spring of 1871. On M arch 4, a fire broke out in the business district; as quickly as the flames, rum ors spread th a t blacks were plan ning to bum down th e town. Three prom inent Negro leaders were arrested on charges of inciting to riot and on March 6 appeared in a courtroom filled w ith grim -visaged whites. D uring a dispute over the testim ony of a w itness, shots rang out, and a general melee ensued. The w hite Republican judge and two blacks fell dead instantly. Armed w hites then searched the town and killed perhaps as m any as th irty Negroes.“ For dens such as those of M eridian, the preservation of economic suprem acy was a deadly serious m atter. Equally essential for m ost w hite citizens was th e m aintenance of southern racial customs. The W ilm ington Journal claimed th a t Klansm en appeared in Alamance County, N orth Carolina, only after a black m an had attem pted to hug the daughter of a w hite planter. Savage night riders became, m utatis m utandis, th e protectors of southern womanhood. In M arshall County, M ississippi, for example, Klansm en visited a Freedm an's Bureau agent who had had the tem erity to sum mon w hite women to his court on th e com plaints of Negroes. Apologists for terrorism argued th a t th e K lan protected w hite women from being raped by black m en, b u t th ere is little contemporary evidence for th is assertion. M ere suspicion w as usually enough, as in W ilkinson County, Georgia, w here K lansm en castrated three black men accused ofconnec tion w ith w hite women. Blacks who sent th eir children to school or dressed too fondly received visits from w hite men eager to reinforce the nuances of th e established racial order.70 In southern theory and law, education for blacks was both unneces sary and dangerous; educated blacks would give the lie to a n d en t racial dogmas. Even w hites who supported Negro schools bitterly op posed Yankee teachers, whom they suspected of giving more instruc tion in politics th an in arithm etic. Schoolhouaes where Loyal League m eetings were held became frequent targ ets for arson. Klansm en vis ited northern schoolteachers a t night, warned them to leave th e area, and occasionally whipped them . Defenders of these methods accused the teachers of dishonestly pocketing school funds and being too politi cally active. Physical assau lt and arson were sporadic b u t frequent
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enough to show a general hostility to any education for blacks th a t w as not controlled by w hite conservatives.71 K lan attack s on schools and teachers were a p a rt of a general assau lt on local authority. The lack of public faith in th e court system pro duced a growing reliance on “popular justice.” The K lan in Alamance County, N orth C arolina, whipped and m urdered Negroes suspected of being thieves, barnburners, and rapists. These “regulators*'claim ed to be th e only effective force ag ainst black crim e. H ard tim es certainly increased th e problem s of th eft, b u t m any w hites thought m ost N e groes were thieves anyway. V igilantes in Sum ter County, South Caro lina, raided th e businesses of several w hite Dem ocrats who had been lucratively buying stolen seed cotton from blacks a t night. A w hite A labam ian lam ented: “A hog has no more chance to live among these thieving negro fan n ers th an a juney bug in a gang of paddle ducks."7* Since Republican sheriffs supposedly winked a t petty larceny, th e hard-pressed fan n ers saw no choice but to exact th eir own punishm ent. The m ain advantage of vigilante justice over established legal pro cesses is its sw iftness. In regions such as th e W est and th e South th a t lacked adequate ja ils and prisons, banishm ent, flogging, or hanging were common penalties, and arm ed bands m ade sure th e sentence was carried out prom ptly.7* W hen freedm en lost th e ir economic value as slaves, they also lost th e ir im m unity from vigilante action. There are no statistics available on th e num ber of lynchings during Reconstruction, b u t th e practice was w idespread. The usual procedure w as for disguised men to remove a prisoner from ja il during th e night, tak e him into the countryside, and hang him . Apologists for these extralegal executions have alw ays claim ed th a t they occurred only in extrem e cases such as th e rape of a w hite woman, b u t a black person could be lynched for m any m inor offenses ranging from in su ltin g a w hite person to general “insolence.” W hites faced th e w rath of th e lynch mob, but more often th e victim was black. V igilante hangings occurred because peaceful citizens welcomed or a t least did not oppose them ; even a m an of m oderate and hum ane views such as South C arolina’s W ade Ham pton believed th a t “th ere are crim es which m ilitate [sic] if they do notju stify such sw ift retribution.”74 A danger in h eren t in any vigilante movement is th a t m embers will use th eir power and anonym ity for private gain. Some K lan dens ap peared m uch m ore interested in robbing blacks th an intim idating voters. D runken regulators in bizarre disguises avenged private quar rels. N ight rid ers in p arts of N orth C arolina and Georgia protected bootleggers and horse thieves from arrest. H ie infam ous B aker gang in Texas would reportedly k ill any Negro for a few dollars.76 The line
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betw een political and personal purpose w as not alw ays distinct, and m any attack s on blacks were not racially or politically m otivated. A t first, prom inent w hite leaders ignored th e existence of terrorism , and one can learn very little about th e Ku K lux from reading conserva« ti ve new spapers. Southern hum orists not only skewered carpetbag* g e n , scalaw ags, and black politicians w ith b itte r satire b u t w rote of K lan raid s in tones th a t m ade them sound m ore like innocent frolics th a n deadly affairs. Some editors dism issed th e question of violence as a phony issue gotten up by Republicans to secure G rant’s reelection in 1872 and cover up adm inistration corruption. Governor G ilbert C. W alker of V irginia welcomed a group of northern newspaperm en to Richm ond in 1871 by congratulating them on th e safe journey through th e land of K u K lux. The editors playfully responded th a t they bad seen none o f these ghostly figures en route.76 "The ’Republican’ p arty m ust have an issue,” cried one Georgia edi to r, "w hat would th e H epublican’ p arty be w ithout th e 'skinned nigger’ and *bloody K u K lu x ? ” C onservatives believed th a t th e Republicans w ere no m ore concerned about th e ir black brethren in th e South th an th ey w ere about aborigines in A ustralia. Skeptical of any federal in vestigation of th e K lan, D em ocrats accused southern radicals of paying m en to com m it outrages so they could wave th e bloody sh irt in election years. D enigrating th e character of any w itnesses who m ight testify about disorder in th e South, th e editor of th e A ugusta C hronicle and S en tin el let forth a m ighty b last a t th e so-called radical outrage m ill: "E very strolling vagabond who w ill assum e th e slightest pretension of loyalty can gain th e e a r and th e w illing sym pathies of th e powers th a t be a t W ashington, no m atter w hat frauds he m ay have perpetrated, or th efts he m ay have com m itted.. . . He can create a sensation which w ill fill th e eye and e ar of th e N orthern public.”77 Such blustering denials failed to account for th e dead bodies strew n across th e southern countryside. As th e terrorism spread, a few prom inent conservatives denounced th e violence. Some m en were m orally revolted by th e K lan’s bloody deeds; others had practical doubts about the efficacy of vigilante ju s tice. Could m en bound by secret oaths be trusted? How m any innocent m en died a t th e hands of regulators? A fter w itnessing a K lan m arch through h is own tow n of Craw fordville, Alexander H. Stephens w arned th a t mob law only worsened social tensions. Y et significantly, m ost of these criticism s o f n ig h t riding were in private letters; public denun ciations w ere not only rare b u t couched in narrow , pragm atic term s. K lan terrorism w as inappropriate, some conservatives argued, because it would provoke federal intervention in the southern states. One
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M ississippiaii, in a letter to a northern correspondent, welcomed the suppression of the Ku Klux but denied th a t any such organization operated in his state. He reserved his sharpest invective for the Repub lican state governm ent.78 As would be the case throughout Reconstruction, men of goodwill refused to take action to stop the bloodshed. Conservative leaders winked a t the m eans used to achieve the overthrow of the Republican regim es. The crusade against Reconstruction demanded th a t individu als set aside personal scruples and m arch under the trium phant ban n er of home rule and w hite supremacy. W hether southern Republicans or the federal governm ent could or would h alt the tide of counterrevo lution rem ained th e unanswered question.
7. The Search for a Strategy
Ihe Ku Klux K lan was not the instrum ent of “redemption" for th e southern states. The organization's career, though occasionally spectacular, was brief. The K lan declined in strength in p art because of internal weaknesses: its lack of central organization and the failure of its leaders to control crim inal elem ents and sadists. More fundamentally, it declined because it failed to achieve its central objective—the overthrow of Republican state governm ents in the South. Ku Klux operated most effectively in areas where the Negro and w hite populations were about equal in size. Although planters some* tim es formed dens in th e black belt, the danger of reprisals there was great.1 Southern w hites recognized the possibility of retaliatory vio lence by blacks, especially when there were rum ors of insurrection. To be sure, black leaders have generally been realistic and have refused to launch revolts th a t had little chance for success. Yet as the carpetbag ger C harles Stearns observed, the longer the black m an was oppressed and th e more his resentm ent smoldered, the greater the chances for the outbreak of race w ar* Blacks who fought back against the Klan occupy a place of honor in Negro folklore. Black men in several N orth Carolina counties orga nized patrols to deter Ku Klux from attacking th eir homes. A gainst overwhelming odds and a t great personal risk, courageous individuals defied the night ridere. W hen Klansm en visited a Negro in Graham , North Carolina, a scuffle broke out inside the house. The black m an's wife let an ax head fall on one of th e white men, splitting his head open. R egulators in Danville, Kentucky, visited the home of George Bland, a powerful and belligerent former slave. They strung Bland's wife up to a nearby tree and then hacked her to death w ith knives. After they dragged Bland out of the house to look a t th eir handiwork, he asked to go back inside to get som ething to wrap around his wife’s
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body. Instead, he grabbed his W inchester rifle and opened fire, killing several of the Klansm en. Such retaliation, however, often came a t a fearful price. A Georgia black who attem pted to defend his wife from a beating was shot. He fled but was captured, and both he and his wife were taken to jail. A band of w hites dragged them from the ja il th a t night and lynched them ; later reports claimed th a t the m an's h eart had been cut out and fed to th e dogs.* The brave but ineffectual black resistance to K lan outrages m eant th a t the prim ary responsibility for stopping the bloodshed rested on the Republican state and local governm ents. B ut from its beginnings, th e southern Republican party had displayed grave internal weak* nesses th a t made it unequal to the task. The party’s early efforts to split th e w hite vote in the South came to naught. In spite of in itial success in recruiting some well-known old W higs, Republicans never won over enough w hite v o ten to m ake th eir party genuinely biracial. Scalawag lead en such as Joe Brown in Geor gia and Jam es Longstreet in Louisiana pleaded w ith President G rant to use the federal patronage to divide th e Democrats, but th is hope of winning over m oderates from the enemy camp vanished as quickly as it had appeared.4 Not only did southern Republicans fail to gain many white converts, but they could not m aintain unity in th eir own ranks. Factionalism became chronic and often disastrous. The most significant cleavage in the party was between scalawags and carpetbaggers. Although the two groups quarreled over political strategy, w hite disfranchisem ent, eco nomic questions, and black rights, th eir most b itter disputes erupted over distributing th e spoils of victory. Scalawags complained th a t c ar petbaggers had received the bulk of th e federal patronage, and each faction chafed over seeing its rivals ensconced in positions of power and p ro fit6 In the end, racial differences did as much as anything to divide southern Republicans and sap th eir lim ited strength. Blacks were th e m ainstay of Republican power in most states, yet the party also had to win a certain num ber of w hite votes. Such a careful balancing of per sonality, ideology, and in terest proved difficult and finally impossible. Some scalawags opposed appointing blacks to public office because they doubted the ability of the freedmen to handle such duties respon sibly. Negro Republicans had legitim ate grievances on th is score be-* cause they never held offices in the South in proportion to th eir nu m erical strength in the party. Conservatives mischievously played on these disputes and chided w hite radicals for not being more generous in sharing power w ith th eir black friends.6 Taken together, these divisions and infirm ities m eant th a t the Re-
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publicans would not only fail to suppress violence but could not protect th eir sta te governm ents from being overthrown by hostile white«. Con servatives recognized th is impotency and came to believe th a t any weakness in the regim e w as an invitation to revolt; not only did they d istru st th eir Republican rulers hut they believed th a t the use of vio lence would topple these governm ents.7 The issue of terrorism itself contributed to and exposed new fissures in Republican ranks. Scalawag Governor W illiam H. Sm ith down played vigilantism in Alabam a while carpetbag Senator George E. Spencer exploited th e issue of K lan violence in attacking his native rivals in the party. Governor Jam es Lusk Alcorn of M ississippi, a form er W hig and substantial planter, favored state action against dis guised bands, but his political enemy, Maine carpetbagger Adelbert Ames, pressed for federal intervention.' Even where Republicans agreed on the need to suppress th e Ku Klux, there rem ained th e question of m eans. Governor W illiam W. Holden of N orth C arolina conceded th a t arm ed desperadoes infested his state but adm itted uncertainty about how to proceed against them . General Al fred H. T erry reported th a t civil authorities in W arren County, Georgia, long a center of K lan activity, had done nothing to bring the perpetra tors of outrages to justice because the county sheriff was in hiding for fear of his life. W itnesses refused to testify against night riders unless they bad protection, which was nearly impossible to provide. Judge Albion Tourgée of N orth C arolina wanted to crush the K lan bushw ackers w ith an “iron heel” b u t faced strong local opposition. When a grand ju ry issued indictm ents, witnesses were difficult to track down, and th e accused p arties produced a m ultitude of alibis. To arrest sus pects was not easy, and m any fled prosecution. Tourgée became dis gusted w ith jurors who refused to convict men whose guilt had been overwhelmingly established and sadly told his wife, “It is no crime for a w hite m an to cut a colored m an open in Alamance [County].”* In th e absence of effective civil remedies, several Republican gov ernors strengthened state m ilitias to check the spread of lawlessness. A fter much lobbying in W ashington, southern Republicans convinced the federal governm ent to furnish a few arm s for these state forces. But it was race, not weapons, th a t aroused opposition. Although some w hites enlisted, particularly in Tennessee, Louisiana, and N orth Caro lina, blacks dom inated the companies in Arkansas, South Carolina, M ississippi, and Texas.10 The conservative protest came swiftly and predictably. There was no need for sta te troops, w hite leaders claimed, because the southern states were peaceful. Im m ediately raising the cry of “m ilitia outrages,” Democratic editors accused Republicans of using state troops solely for
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th eir own political advantage. The idea of arm ed blades drilling and harassing peaceful citizens threw some w hites into a frenzy." In South Carolina, conservatives charged th a t Governor Robert K. Scott would use the m ilitia to intim idate Democratic voters. In counties where the m ilitia drilled, the K lan was most active.1*Given white paranoia about arm ed blacks, it is not surprising th a t these units stirred up deep fears in the South. Shortly before the 1868 presidential election, K lan raids against Republicans in Tennessee became more frequent, and they continued after th e election. Prom inent conservatives condemned vigilantism out of fear th a t it m ight induce Governor Brownlow to dedare m artial law and send the greatly despised Negro m ilitia into the field. A fter a brief period of m artial law in early 1868, both the K lan and the m ilitia faded from the scene. Because of factional w rangling among the Republicans, Tennessee by 1869 had quietly returned to conservative control.1* N orth C arolina Union m en complained th a t they were threatened, beaten, and driven from th eir homes by the Ku Klux. Governor Holden and other leading Republicans dedded th a t th is terrorism made th e organization of a state m ilitia im perative during the 1868 election campaign. Accusing the governor of conspiring to cow the voters w ith m ilitary force, conservatives raised the shopworn cry against standing arm ies in tim e of peace. Josiah T urner screamed th a t no w hite m an would allow any “drunken or ignorant worthless negro to arrest him” and th a t the m ustering of a Toil m ilitia” m eant w ar.14 Fortunately, th is heated invective m arked the extent of the hostilities. To m eet K lan raids in 1868 and 1870, Holden attem pted through persuasion, proclam ations, and promises of pardons for past crimes to convince the group to disband. B ut the m urder of state senator John W. Stephens in Yanceyville and disturbances in several counties during the first h a lf of 1870 inspired Holden and other Republican leaders to hold a secret m eeting in Raleigh a t which they resolved to raise a force of volunteers to arrest the guilty parties. The governor authorized George W. K irk, a U nited States Army veteran who had served in Brownlow’s Tennessee m ilitia, to organize th is predom inantly white force, which was sen t im m ediately to Alamance and Caswell counties. Conservatives howled in protest, particularly after th eir mouthpiece Josiah T urner was incarcerated, b u t K irk's men committed few depre dations though they may have tortured prisoners to extract confes sions. Some Republicans questioned the expediency of m ilitary force and advised the governor to disband K irk's men. Constitutional ques tions about the legality of the arrests as well as confusion on the p art of Holden and K irk eventually led to th e release of all the prisoners. Although K lan activity subsided, the governor paid a high price for his
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bold course. A fter th e Dem ocrats gained control of the legislature in 1870» they impeached Holden and removed him from office.'6 The establishm ent of a m ilitia in A rkansas produced political acrimony b u t favorable resu lts for th e Republicans. In Ju ly 1868 Governor Powell C layton urged the legislature to authorize a m ilitia and th rea t ened to send it out into th e countryside if K lan violence continued. D uring th e fall, Clayton purchased four thousand rifles and am m uni tion in New York, b u t K lansm en captured the steam boat carrying th e weapons and dumped them in th e M ississippi River. Clayton’s appeal for federal troops m et a cold rebuff from the Johnson adm inistration, which looked askance a t such requests from carpetbag regim es. Al though some two hundred m urders had been comm itted in A rkansas betw een Ju ly and October 1868, Clayton hesitated to call out th e m i litia for fear of th e political consequences. C ertainly th e Democrats would have protested; they were already com plaining th a t Loyal League m eetings w ere inciting th e blacks. On November 4, th e day afte r th e presidential election, Clayton declared m artial law in ten counties w here K lan n ight riding had been m ost serious and divided th e sta te into four m ilitia districts. Both w hite U nionists and Negroes responded to th e governor's call for volunteers but served in separate com panies.18 The sta te troops entered several counties, m aking arrests and seis ing weapons and provisions. A lthough conservative newspapers filled th eir colum ns w ith reports of outrages by the Negro m ilitia, th e troops behaved in a reasonably disciplined m anner. W hen four black m ilitia m en raped two w hite women in C rittenden County, they were immedi ately tried by court-m artial, sentenced to death, and shot by an a ll black firing squad. A rrests of n ight riders did not necessarily lead to eith er tria ls or convictions. Few K lansm en ever faced a judge, b u t a handful evidently were executed w ithout trials. Refusing to re tre a t from assassination th reats, Clayton’s courageous declaration of m ar tia l law had succeeded in crushing the K lan in A rkansas and settin g an exam ple of firm ness for other southern governors.17 Texas Republicans established a sta te police force th a t could well have served as a model for other southern states. Its vast untam ed and unsettled areas populated by hostile Indians, postw ar Texas w as a haven for highw aym en and m urderers. The state governm ent orga nized m ilitia (officially called th e sta te police) to cope w ith th e prevail ing law lessness. Few w hites chose to join, and conservatives accused Negro sta te policemen of being the vanguard of a black insurrection. Local defiance of the sta te police forced Governor Edmund J . Davis to declare m artial law in several counties, and violence broke out when black officers tried to a rre st w hite civilians. Republicans sometimes
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used the police for electioneering purposes, h u t even its opponents conceded its success in reducing crime. W hen the Democrats disbanded th e state police after w inning control of th e legislature in 1873, brig ands and assassins roamed freely once again.1' The record of th e southern m ilitias was mixed; successes in A rkan sas and Texas were not m atched elsewhere. Few Republicans were w illing to apply forceful m easures against the Ku Klux. Conservative Republican governors such as H arrison Reed in Florida and W illiam H. Sm ith in Alabam a downplayed the violence and believed the decla ratio n of m artial law or th e suspension of th e w rit of habeas corpus unnecessary and dangerous to constitutional liberty (argum ents th a t m ust have sounded persuasive to the m ost rabid Democrats). Some Republicans hesitated to send arm ed blacks into already disturbed counties because they feared race w ar as much as w hite conservatives did. The development of Negro m ilitia companies in th e deep South would have created a panic among the w hite population and m ight well have provoked a w ar of exterm ination. Republican governors therefore found them selves in an impossible situation: they could eith er allow th e K lan to continue its terro r cam paign or they could risk all-out w ar by attem pting to m eet the K lan on its own bloody term s.1* The failure of th e sta te governm ents to control violence forced Re publicans to push for congressional legislation against voter intim ida tion and night riding. Radical congressmen argued th a t if the states could not m aintain order, the federal governm ent had th e responsibil ity to do so to preserve its Reconstruction policies. Black representa tives movingly demanded protection for black voters, asserting th a t K lan violence was an attack on th e federal governm ent and a symptom of renewed rebellion." Congress eventually passed three Enforcem ent Acts in 1870 and 1871 providing for federal prosecution of persons who through intim idation or physical force prevented citizens from exercis ing th eir rig h ts under th e Fourteenth and Fifteenth am endm ents. These law s prohibited a host of activities associated w ith the Ku Klux K lan (such as riding about indisguise) and authorized the president to suspend th e w rit of habeas corpus in states where the resistance to legal authority had become overwhelming. Southern conservatives raised th e expected objections to th e "tyr anny” of w hat they labeled "force bills.” Linton Stephens declared th e Enforcem ent Acts null and void because the Fourteenth and Fifteenth am endm ents had never been constitutionally ratified. Excited editors claim ed these law s struck th e death knell of liberty in America and clothed G rant w ith the powers of a Roman em peror or an A sian despot; such p artisan legislation allowed th e Republican party to persecute Dem ocrats legally. The im prisonm ent of accused Ku K luxers served no other purpose th an to secure G rant’s réélection.'1
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W hatever th e constitutional and p artisan ram ifications of th is legis* lation, it ra n head-on into a long tradition of southern lawlessness. Southerners m ay have believed th a t law s protected society from out b u rsts of passion and violence, b u t they had never had much faith in legal procedure. To the average citizen th e defects in the system seemed glaring: crim inals easily escaped justice; crafty law yers got th e ir guilty clients acquitted; judges and jurym en accepted bribes. Such im perfections explain occasional resort to extralegal justice and even lynch law. If southerners often refused to respect law s of th eir own m aking, how could they be expected to obey acts passed by a Congress for which m any of them had only contem pt and loathing? Conservatives pictured them selves as th e tru e upholders of th e Consti tution and saw th e radicals as usurpers, who brought th e law into contem pt by foisting upon the people oppressive, unqualified, and cor ru p t officeholders. An outraged Alabam ian added the final elem ent to th is syllogism by blam ing vigilantism on a lack of confidence in Repub lican judges.** C onservatives loudly protested th e dragging of w hite citizens from th e ir homes in th e dead of th e night on the word of an unreliable Negro or carpetbag knave. They accused federal judges of sending m en to prison for no other crim e th an th e exercise of th eir political rights under th e C onstitution. Southern Democrats believed indictm ents stem m ed from personal and political vengeance rath e r th an actual wrongdoing and th a t perjured w itnesses and packed ju ries ensured convictions. T his overblown rhetoric turned federal prisons into Bas tilles and Ju stice D epartm ent officials and arm y officers into Persian satraps.** The im passioned denunciations of th e Enforcem ent Acts did not re flect th e ir actual operation. U nited S tates district attorneys and m ar shals confronted th e sam e problem s faced by state and local officials. A rresting K lansm en a t first provided Republicans w ith some security, b u t m any of th e leaders successfully evaded capture. Bands of despera does intim idated deputy m arshals and even assassinated witnesses. The K lan's victim s were generally poor and illiterate men unlikely to bring th eir plight to th e attention of federal officials, and m any rightly feared the consequences of doing so. Congress never appropriated enough money to h ire detectives for thorough investigations or to carry through lengthy prosecutions. The burden of enforcem ent fell on th e shoulders of d istrict attorneys and m arshals, whose ability and w illing ness to bring the guilty to justice varied widely. Federal judges in th e South were also of uneven quality, and court decisions significantly circum scribed th e reach of th eir authority.*4 S tatistics compiled by th e Ju stice D epartm ent show th a t governm ent prosecutors obtained convictions in a high proportion of Enforcem ent
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Act cases, but, as tim e w ent en, m any indictm ents were dropped or declared to be nolle prosequi. This trend indicated not only the demise of the K lan b u t also th e lim itations of federal law enforcem ent in th e South. Because of th e heavy case load, A ttorney General Amos T. Aker* m an instructed a U nited S tates d istrict attorney in Yorkville, South C arolina, to bring K lan leaders to tria l but to release lesser offenders on light bail or not prosecute them . Akerm an and other federal officials realised th a t th e federal governm ent was reluctant to punish persons guilty of crim es norm ally falling under state or local jurisdiction, espe cially when m ost citizens sym pathized w ith the defendants. The combi nation of w aning northern support for Reconstruction, unfavorable court decisions, and the lack of sufficient funds to prosecute those per sons already indicted ended the federal enforcement program and later allowed groups such as th e Louisiana W hite League to carry on its operations w ith little fear of federal interference.35 The ultim ate weapon in th e federal arsenal against southern law lessness w as th e arm y. Between 1867 and 1871, w ithdraw al of troops m ade keeping th e peace increasingly difficult. Moreover, the soldiers generally could be deployed only on the request of civil authorities. H am strung by legal technicalities, conflicting instructions from th eir superiors, and m eager appropriations, the arm y in the South con fronted an impossible situation w ith less and less enthusiasm . The m ost onerous duty for th e troops came a t election tim e, when they tried to prevent the outcome from being decided by shotguns. Although m ost commanders preferred to leave peacekeeping to local authorities, they frequently had to interfere when these men eith er could not or would not preserve order. The task w as both thankless and herculean. Conservatives denounced th e presence of uniformed sol diers n ear a polling place as an attem pt to control th e election. To preserve political n eu trality and m aintain order a t the sam e tim e was a difficult job, b u t one th a t the arm y usually accomplished. Com m anders m ight station troops w ithin a state according to the wishes of leading Republicans, b u t they turned down requests they suspected of originating in a desire to intim idate Democrats.35 However fair th e arm y was in carrying out its m ission, it could not escape criticism . A fter th e Reconstruction acts had been in effect for several m onths. Governor Jon ath an W orth of N orth C arolina wrote a forty-one-page le tter to President Johnson com plaining of th e arbi trary actions of m ilitary authorities and th eir circumvention of civil procedures. Conservatives pointed out to penurious northerners th a t keeping troops in the South w as an enormous drain on the federal treasury. These regim ents were portrayed as dangerous to liberty and partisan tools of the G rant adm inistration. Local officials harassed
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soldiers perform ing th e ir duties by arresting them on petty charges. The attorney general suggested th a t such nuisance prosecutions be transferred to federal courts if possible, b u t th a t in any event, U nited S tates attorneys should conduct th e soldiers’ defense.27 Although vio len t clashes betw een troops and civilians were rare, th e arm y’s pres ence was a constant rem inder of Yankee oppression. P rotests ag ain st “m ilitary despotism ,” however, did not constitute th e essence of civilian-m ilitary relations. M any w hites got along rea sonably well w ith th e soldiers and claimed to prefer m ilitary rule to governm ent by Republican scoundrels. Conservative editors praised the conduct of th e federal troops, statin g th a t most of the officers were “gentlem en” who sym pathised w ith the region’s suffering. Since m any soldiers w ere Dem ocrats or conservative Republicans, southern radi cals rightly suspected th a t th e troops helped the opposition more th an they did th e party of Reconstruction. A Georgia Republican grum bled th a t th e soldiers of one garrison hobnobbed only w ith Confederate cutthroats.** Most officers detested service below th e Mason-Dixon line. Conser vative generals such as George G. Meade, W infield Scott Hancock, and John M. Schofield disliked interfering w ith civil governm ent and ab horred th eir inevitable entanglem ent in southern politics. The inces san t requests by Republicans for assistance drove m any soldiers into th e Dem ocratic camp. The arm y's effectiveness was fu rth er lim ited because its superiors in W ashington discounted reports of southern outrages and favored a restrained use of m ilitary force. A fter strug gling w ith th e m addening complexities of Georgia politics. G eneral Alfred T erry inform ed G eneral W illiam T. Sherm an: “I would not again go through w ith a job of th is kind even if it would m ake me a M arshal of France.” The common soldiers shared m any of th eir com m anders’ prejudices, were often hostile to the governm ent’s Recon struction policies, and were seldom racial egalitarians.22 W hen th e W ar D epartm ent became preoccuppied w ith the Indian w ars on th e G reat P lains, th e arm y’s position in the South grew more precarious. In 1867 th ere had been one soldier in th e form er Confeder ate states for each 708 civilians; by 1876 th e ratio would be one for 3,160. Division and departm ent commanders moved slowly against th e K lan and opposed m ilitary tria ls for these outlaws. M ounted south erners easily evaded p u rsu it by infantry detachm ents. As G eneral Philip Sheridan, an advocate of vigorous federal action in th e South, had lam ented in 1867, m any crim es and outrages were beyond th e reach of m ilitary power.20 The weakness of federal policy and w ill certainly stim ulated dis order. W ith n eith er sw ift nor certain th re a t of punishm ent, south-
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en ters could vent th e ir aggression w ith little fear of retribution. In* deed, m oderate force, such as th a t applied by th e arm y in th e South, is m ore likely to produce a violent response titan m ore draconian mea* sures or a laissez-faire policy.31 By draining th e N orth's m oral, psycho logical, economic, and political com m itm ent to suppressing terrorism , th e Ku K lux K lan, th e K nights of the W hite Cam ellia, and other such organizations had been p artially successful even though they disap peared as a resu lt of th e federal enforcem ent program . W hen new p aram ilitary groups sprang up in th e mid-1870s, th ere w as no longer even a m inim al federal d eterren t in place. The K u Klux K lan, th en , is not th e key to understanding the south ern counterrevolution because its legendary statu re far exceeded its actual accom plishm ents. A llen Trelease, th e leading student of th e K lan, has concluded th a t it achieved very few of its goals during its b rief career. In sta te s such as A labam a and South C arolina, Ku Klux raid s constituted b u t a sm all p a rt of th e political violence th a t contin ued long after th e ghostly n ig h t riders had vanished.32 The K lan con trib u ted to conservative election victories b u t failed to overthrow a single Republican sta te governm ent Following a series of outrages and m urders in several north Florida counties during 1869 and 1870, th e Dem ocrats won a p artial victory in th e 1870 sta te elections.33 Sus tained terrorism in m ore th an a dozen N orth C arolina counties re duced th e Republican vote and helped th e Democrats win a legislative m ajority in th e sam e year. B ut th e K lan m ay not have been th e deci sive factor. A long-sim m ering railroad scandal had divided th e Repub licans and severely dim inished th eir popularity.34 R elatively little violence and intim idation (by Reconstruction stan dards) took place during th e 1870 elections in A labam a, b u t earlier K lan raids had established an au ra of fear. Republicans pleaded w ith Governor Sm ith for federal troops to prevent Dem ocrats from disrupting th eir m eetings and th reaten in g black voters. Armed Dem ocrats broke up a Republican m eeting in E utaw , where the despised Congressm an C harles H ays w as addressing a biracial audience. On election day, w hites crowded the polls in some precincts, b u t in several counties fed eral soldiers stood w ithin sig h t of the ballot boxes.33 The resu lt was a narrow , albeit disputed. Democratic trium ph, in p a rt attrib u tab le to th e work of K lansm en b u t also to th e feuding between the scalaw ag and carpetbagger w ings of th e Republican party. The conservative conquest of Georgia was more complete. H istorians disagree over th e ex ten t to which night riding contributed to th e Dem ocrats' capture of a legislative m ajority, and there may have been less violence in 1870 th an in 1868. K lan raids probably reduced th e black vote in several counties, b u t Georgia Republicans brought on
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th e ir own defeat by failing to settle th e ir in tern al quarrels in th e face of a resurgent Democracy.36 The K u K lux K lan brought th e southern states only a short distance down th e road to “redem ption.” To be sure, Ku Klux destroyed the Loyal League and shattered Republican voting strength in m any counties. Y et th e K lan’s lack of organization beyond th e local level m ade it a weak in stru m en t to attack Republican sta te governm ents. This absence of well-defined goals and effective leadership m ade it vulnerable to federal suppression; indeed, th e hooded riders seemed to dissolve into th e night once federal m arshals and soldiers moved against them . The K lan expe rience unquestionably tau g h t conservative leaders some valuable stra tegic lessons. In th e fiiture, they organized powerful extralegal bodies, which through a com bination of political agitation, intim idation, and th e calculated use of force underm ined and eventually overthrew Re publican sta te governm ents. These w hite suprem acy groups had little contact w ith th e ir counterparts in other states but had th e significant advantage of operating in a changed political atm osphere. The w illing ness of th e federal governm ent to intervene on behalf of beleaguered blacks and Republicans in th e South sharply declined after th e breakup of the K lan, and th e growing in tern al weaknesses of southern Republi canism opened the way for “redem ption.” As Tennessee, V irginia, Georgia, and N orth C arolina fell back into conservative hands, th e tide of counterrevolution gained momentum. The G ran t adm inistration had tried in a variety of ways to build a strong and self-sufficient Republican party in these states b u t had foiled. Violence had not played a decisive role in these conservative victories, though th e K lan had been active in all these states except V irginia. Factionalism , w hether based on race, nativity, or a scram ble for patronage had been more decisive th an force in sapping Republican stren g th in th e South. H ie Dem ocrats had achieved success w ith rela tive ease, greatly aided by th eir opponents' folly; after 1870, redemp tion became both m ore difficult and m ore sanguinary. By 1873 th e Republican party in Texas lay in sham bles. The adm in istratio n of Governor Edm und J . Davis had used declarations of m ar tia l law and th e sta te police to control endemic law lessness but in the process had alienated m any conservative Republicans and allowed th e Dem ocrats to gain control of th e legislature in 1872. A fter losing a bid for reelection in 1873, D avis attem pted one last stand against his oppo nents. Seizing on a legal technicality, he refused to abide by the elec tion resu lts and announced th a t he would rem ain in th e governor's chair to protect th e sta te from the Ku K lux Democracy. The governor appealed to G ran t for troops to support his claim to office, but th e president icily refused, giving Davis a b rief lecture on “yielding to th e
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will of the people as expressed by th eir ballots." The Democrats were determ ined to inaugurate th eir w inning candidate, Richard Coke, but were equally bent on avoiding a violent clash w ith the Republicans th a t m ight provoke G rant into declaring m artial law. On Jan u ary 16, 1874, conservative forces seized the arsenal in A ustin. Davis fortified the lower floors of the capitol w ith m ilitia, b u t Democrats occupied the upper stories. W hen it became clear th a t the federal governm ent would not intervene, Davis surrendered on Jan u ary 17.97 Like most Recon struction statehouse confrontations, there had been a good deal of pos* turing, no shortage of bloodcurdling th reats, but a reluctance by both p arties to sta rt shooting. The political situation in neighboring A rkansas was more confusing and potentially more explosive. In 1872 a group of "Liberal Republi cans," in revolt against Powell Clayton’s m achinations, nom inated Joseph Brooks for governor; th e party regulars chose Clayton’s man, E lisha B axter. A fter a cam paign replete w ith fraud and the appear* anee of arm ed m en a t th e polls, Clayton’s election officials counted in Baxter. No sooner was he in the governor’s chair th an B axter aban* doned his political friends. Much to the disgust of Clayton and his henchm en, th e new governor appointed Democrats to offices, vetoed a Republican railroad scheme, and urged an end to the disfranchisem ent of form er Confederates.9* Clayton’s faction, in a neat b it of political legerdem ain, repudiated B axter and announced th eir support for Brooks’s claim s to the governorship. T his sw irling sea of shifting allegiances, broken promises, and fratri cidal strife became more storm -tossed early in 1874. On April 15, a circuit court in Pulaski County, whose jurisdiction was questionable, ruled th a t Brooks w as the legal governor of the state. The Brooks forces im m ediately seized state buildings, broke into the arm ory, and demanded th a t B axter vacate his office. When black m ilitiam en began carrying weapons through th e halls, B axter wisely abandoned the statehouse. Both "governors" fired off hasty telegram s to G rant ex plaining th e ir positions; A ttorney General George H. W illiams tele graphed the U nited S tates m arshal in L ittle Rock to hold federal troops ready to quell any disturbances. The adm inistration did not respond to eith er of the “governors" and instructed the commander of federal troops in L ittle Rock, C aptain Thomas E. Rose, to m aintain strict neu trality , in effect accepting Brooks’s fait accompli and g ran t ing him de facto recognition. Brooks's arm ed supporters filled the statehouse, bringing w ith them two twelve-pound artillery pieces. B axter raised a volunteer force th a t ringed the statehouse. After B axter declared m artial law in L ittle Rock, Brooks frantically wired W ashington th a t he was about to be attacked. C aptain Rose pleaded w ith both sides to disarm .9*
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W ith th e two p arties only th ree hundred yards ap art, an arm ed clash seem ed inevitable. Black m ilitiam en loyal to B axter m arched into L ittle Rock, and on A pril 20 (me of them shot a t C aptain Rose as he rode betw een th e lines. D uring several m inutes of general firing, one m an w as killed and another wounded. The B axter forces moved up th e ir a rtille ry pieces in ap parent preparation for an assau lt on th e statehouse. The m ilitiam en, commanded by K ing W hite, were eager to attack th e Brooks forces and periodically paraded before th eir enem ies cheering for B axter. On A pril 30, after both sides w ithdrew , arm ed blacks from L ittle Rock clashed w ith Brodes forces n ear Pine Bluff. N ine Brooks p artisan s w ere killed and tw enty wounded, b u t only nine B axter supporters suffered injury. Rumors spread of large arm s ship m ents, b u t W hite's m en appeared to command th e countryside. By th e tim e th e B axter forces kidnapped two suprem e court justices, m any A rkansans no longer cared which faction prevailed.40 B oth sides appeared to be arm ing for a final battle, and civil w ar seem ed likely. On th e n ig h t of May 7, Brooks's m en seized th e steam ship H allie, w hich w as carrying arm s for th e B axter m ilitia. A lthough B axter supporters feared th e boat would th en be used to attack them , th is setback w as only tem porary. Sporadic stre et fighting continued in L ittle Rock, and th e B axter m ilitia moved two m ore brass a rtillery pieces into position n ear th e statehouse. The balance of power w as shifting; Brooks w as losing followers and B axter gaining them . G rant finally issued a proclam ation recognizing B axter as the state’s legal governor.41 T he president’s action calm ed th e situation b u t left A rkansas R epublicans in a precarious position. The Clayton contingent was furious b u t powerless; ju b ila n t Dem ocrats moved quickly to consoli d ate th e ir gains. A bandoning B axter, they elected A ugustus H. G ar land governor and solidified th e ir hold on th e sta te governm ent in th e 1874 elections. R eversing h is earlier course, G rant suddenly proposed intervening to rein state Brooks, b u t m oderate Republicans in Con gress dem urred, and A rkansas passed quietly into Dem ocratic hands.40 Elsew here as th e 1870s began, political and racial lines w ere hard ening. A lthough extrem ists had early agitated for the form ation of a w hite m an’s p arty,40 some conservatives had attem pted to accommo date them selves to the new order and had courted black voters. The resu lts w ere disappointing. Few Negroes voluntarily deserted th e Re publican p arty , so th ere seem ed to be no altern ativ e b u t to draw th e color line. Racism reasserted itself to sanctity th e to tal exclusion of th e Negro from southern political life.44 This strategic shift failed to con sider dem ographic reality . In a ll th e states still in Republican hands except Florida, blacks constituted a m ajority of th e voting age popula-
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tion. W hite unification, as in Georgia and North Carolina, was not enough to defeat the radical regimes. Since persuasion had failed, w hite conservatives turned to more forceful methods either to win black support or to prevent the race's participation in politics. Alabama became the first testing ground for a new Democratic stra t egy of w hite solidarity and the calculated use of violence. By 1874 Alabama Republicans, long divided into carpetbag and scalawag fac tions, were in desperate disarray. N ative whites deserted the party in droves over the issue of Senator Charles Sumner’s proposed Civil Rights bill and growing black demands for a larger share of the politi cal loaves and fishes. The state’s Republicans desperately tried to re tain white voters by straddling the civil rights question and denying any support for “social equality” between the races. By way of contrast, the Democrats patched up th eir personal and political quarrels to u n ite on the single issue of race. C astigating the radicate for first draw ing th e color line. Democratic politicians gave up trying to woo black voters and openly declared them selves to be a white m an’s party. By nom inating the conservative and colorless George Sm ith Houston for governor and by publicly repudiating violence, the Democrats sought to appear responsible and restrained.46 In th is new sp irit of harm ony, the Democrats saw a great opportu nity to capture the governorship and control of the legislature. W arn ing Republicans th a t they would carry the contest a t all costs, conser vatives stepped up social ostracism of the men they term ed Mudases” to th eir race and “discouraged” black orators from addressing black audiences. In September, Congressman Hays wrote a public letter de nouncing the Democrats for engaging in a campaign of intim idation, terror, and m urder against black and white radicate. Hays and other leaders provided detailed accounts of m urderous attacks by night riders during the canvass. The Democrats heatedly denied harassing anyone and attributed most of the disturbances to factional disputes in th eir opponents’ ranks. Party spokesmen refuted the specific charges in th e Hays letter and lam basted the Republicans for waving the “bloody sh irt.” The “peaceful” Democrats, however, attended Republi can m eetings in force, pelted speaken w ith rotten eggs, and in several counties took more serious steps to can y th eir political point.46 Democratic editors countered Hays’s letter by accusing Republicans of arm ing and drilling th eir Negro supporters. Racial disturbances were blamed on a conspiracy by the national Republican party to re tain power against the will of an angry white majority. Reports of black m ilitary companies m arching a t night poured into the office of the Republican governor, David P. Lewis, but few of these tales had any factual basis.47
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U nlike th e Ku Klux K lan terrorism and indicative of weakened Republican resistance to violence, m ost of th e cam paign disturbances took place in th e A labam a black belt, an area running from east to w est across th e south-central p a rt of th e state. In Choctaw County, on th e w estern edge of th is region, influential black leader Jack T urner held several secret m eetings. H is followers whipped a Negro nam ed H uff Chaney for passing inform ation on these gatherings to w hites. Knowing T urner to be a form idable foe, on A ugust 13 Democrats sent out a posse to intercept him and his men as they were w alking toward th e sm all town of M ount Sterling. W hen the w hites threatened to ja il him for involvem ent in th e Chaney beating, T urner agreed to sign an appearance bond. He then summoned his followers to a nearby schoolhouse, which led w hites to expect an arm ed invasion of B utler, the county seat. A gain a posse rode out to stop the blacks; T urner agreed to appear in court b u t refused to give up any arm s. As T urner and his men moved tow ard B utler, nine men from M ount Sterling am bushed them from th e rear. C aught in a crossfire between th e w hite parties, th e blacks fled into the woods. Conservatives accused T urner and other blacks of insolently asserting th eir rig h ts under the proposed federal Civil R ights bill, of plotting an insurrection, and of threatening to k ill any black who supported the Democrats. An overeealous Republican apparently started a rum or th a t ten of T urner’s men had been killed by th e w hites, and th is groundless tale appeared in Hays’s letter. The D em ocrats ended any fu rth er Republican activity in the county by chasing several black leaders into th e swamps for th e duration of the canvass.48 Federal troops were sen t to B utler, but election day passed quietly, and th e Dem ocrats carried th e county. W hites in neighboring Greene County heckled Republican speakers and threatened candidates w ith assassination if they held any more m eetings. Two hundred arm ed Democrats prevented Republicans from assem bling a t Eutaw . W hen Negroes reportedly threatened to burn the tin y village of Forkland, w hites pursued them into the countryside and evidently killed and wounded several of them . U nited S tates soldiers arrived to a rre st th e perpetrators, and th e Republicans won th e election.49 D em ocrats in Sum ter County, on the northw est corner of the black belt, were m ore discrim inating in th eir selection of victims. W alter P. B illings, a northern law yer and prom inent local Republican, traveled through th e county during Ju ly speaking to large black audiences. R eturning from a m eeting on A ugust 2, he was ambushed w ithin sight of h is home; five shots killed both B illings and his horse. Tom Ivey was a railroad m ail agent and black Republican speaker who had received m any th re a ts ag ain st his life because of his political activities. On
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A ugust 29, w hite m en flagged down a tra in on which he was riding and, when th e unfortunate Ivey looked out a window, nearly blew his head off w ith shotgun blasts. T here w as little doubt th a t th e assassins of B illings and Ivey intended to rid th e county of two im portant Repub* licans, b u t eyew itnesses feared to tell th eir story to deputy federal m arshals. Some angry black leaders called on th e ir followers to arm them selves and k ill one Dem ocrat for each Negro who w as m urdered. Such incendiary, if understandable, advice led w hites to raise th e old cry of black insurrection and a rre st th e ringleaders, accusing them o f planning to burn down some sm all settlem ents. N ight riding forced several blacks to hide in th e swam p n ear Belm ont for th e duration of the canvass. D em ocrats denied intim idating Negroes a t th e sam e tim e they apparently discussed k illin g Robert Reed, a black m em ber of th e legislature. A fter two Ju stice D epartm ent undercover agents investi* gated th e deaths of B illings and Ivey, troops arrived to a rre st w hites accused of these crim es. Conservatives charged th a t th e governm ent w as using th e “m ailed fist” to prevent a Democratic victory in th e election. E ditorial w riters denounced th e “cruel” treatm en t of th e Sum ter County prisoners and accused federal officials of inaugurating a “reign of terro r” and allow ing vengeful Negroes to prey on innocent citizens. Once again a tim ely application of m ilitary force proved deci sive; Sum ter County stayed in th e Republican column.*0 E lias K iels w as a scalaw ag judge and th e m ost influential Republi can in B arbour County on th e extrem e southeastern corner of th e black belt. W hites disliked K iels not only for his politics b u t for his alleged shielding of black crim inals. Some Negroes also chafed under K iels’s nearly absolute control of county Republicans. C laim ing they had been too long cheated by radical scoundrels, Dem ocrats organized a W hite M an’s Club to rally th e voters for th e November election. Republicans m aintained th a t th e conservatives had attem pted to break up th e county Republican convention, threatened Republican Negroes w ith th e loss of th e ir jobs, and forced them to sign pledges to vote th e Demo* cratic ticket. K iels joined w ith U nited S tates M arshal Robert W. H ealy in asking th a t troops be sen t to th e county seat of Eufoula, b u t Gover nor Lewis, who considered K iels eith er a scoundrel or a fool, denied th is request and declined to declare m artial law in th e county. Al though a handful of soldiers eventually arrived, they could do little to stop th e determ ined Democrat.*1 On election day, several hundred blacks m arched into E ufaula to vote; K iels had advised them to come unarm ed, and m ost did. W hites and blacks filled th e stre e t n ear th e town’s th ree polling places. Around noon, a dispute broke out betw een a w hite druggist, C harles Goodwin, and a black Republican, M ilas Lawrence. Goodwin claim ed
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to be protecting a black Dem ocrat from intim idation by his Republican brethren, b u t apparently the w hites had forced th e young m an to sup* port th e ir ticket. W hen Lawrence objected th a t the m an was underage, he and Goodwin exchanged words regarding each other’s paternity. Someone (probably Goodwin) pulled a gun, and w hites in the buildings on both sides of th e m ain street fired into the crowd of Negroes w ith a rapidity th a t suggested prior planning. The blacks fled in disarray, and ex u ltan t w hites bragged about being ready to fight federal troops.*2 C aptain A. S. D aggett had stationed h is detachm ent o ften enlisted m en w ithin sig h t of th e polls b u t kept them under strict ordere not to interfere w ith th e voting. D aggett’s soldiers had the authority to serve w rits issued by federal courts, but th e captain denied a request from a deputy U nited S tates m arshal to use the soldiers to quell the rioting. In nearby Spring H ill, when a mob killed Judge K iels’s teenage son and burned th e ballot box, th e soldiers did nothing. "The company a t E ufaula,” an outraged M arshal Healy complained, "stood idly by while hum an life w as being fearfully sacrificed.’*The following day, D aggett tab ulated th e casualties: one w hite m an killed, twelve wounded, six or seven black m en killed, and about seventy wounded.62 The Democrats carried th e county because m any blacks had not been able to vote before th e fighting broke out. K iels left E ufaula for fear of his life— another victim of w hite suprem acy and a grim w arning for native Republicans. On election day in Mobile, a tu rb u len t and racially mixed mob crowded around the polls. Democratic leaders instructed th eir fol lowers to w atch for black repeaters, and some w hites tried to dissuade Negroes from voting Republican even once. As sh eriffs deputies a r rested blacks on trum ped-up charges of election law violations and carried them off to jail, a few w hites shot a t the prisoners. Democrats accused prom inent black leader Allen A lexander of inciting a rio t and placed him under arrest. Correctly fearing th a t A lexander m ight be killed, angry blacks dem anded his release. A fter sporadic firing, they rescued A lexander, and th e disturbances ended. B ut the Democrats had forced m any blacks to leave the polls w ithout voting.64 W ith th e notable exceptions of E ufaula and Mobile, the election had been reasonably peaceful in m ost of Alabam a. M any blacks, by Repub lican accounts, had decided it w as not worth risking th eir lives to cast a ballot. W hite G eorgians apparently crossed the state line to vote, a not uncommon practice in southern elections during th is period. Most of the troops stationed around th e state stayed quietly in th eir barracks. Although th ere were only 679 soldiers in Alabam a on election day, conservatives ritu alistically complained of intim idation. Troops did
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assist deputy m arshals in m aking arrests of persons charged w ith vio latin g th e Enforcem ent Acts, b u t th e m ilitary presence had little influ ence on th e outcome of th e election.66 W hat m ight be appropriately term ed th e "A labam a plan" had achieved a strik in g success. By reducing Republican stren g th in th e black b elt and in U nionist counties in th e northern p a rt of th e sta te , th e Dem ocrats elected H ouston and won a solid m ajority of th e seats in both houses of th e legislature. A labam a Republicans petitioned Con gress to overturn th e resu lts of th e election because of Dem ocratic fraud and violence. If th e "rebel party" w as allowed to tak e over th e sta te governm ent, they w arned, it would nullity th e postw ar constitu tional am endm ents, re tu rn blacks to slavery, and drive loyal m en from th e state. In counties carried by th e Republicans, Dem ocrats prevented elected officials such as tax collectors and sheriffs from raisin g th e required bonds; defeated D em ocrats thereby took office by default. A fter a congressional com m ittee investigated th e election of 1874 in A labam a, its Republican m em bers agreed th a t th e Dem ocrats had used force to overturn th e sta te 's Republican m ajority, b u t Congress w as unw illing to act on these findings. A ttorney G eneral George H. W illiam s refused to provide troops to a rre st persons accused of political intim idation, thereby elim inating th e final obstacle to Dem ocratic ascendancy.66 For conservative southerners, th e redem ption of Alabam a happily coincided w ith th e Dem ocrats’ first real chance since th e 1850s to w in control of th e national House of R epresentatives. Because of corruption, rum ors th a t G ran t w as seeking a th ird term , th e depressed economy, th e controversial federal Civil R ights bill, and serious in tern al divisions over southern policy, Republicans w ere on th e defensive everyw here.67 Recognizing th e ir enorm ous opportunity, southern conservatives sought to convince skeptical northerners th a t they could abandon coer cive southern policies w ith perfect safety. V eteran N orth C arolina polit ico Zebulon Vance predicted racial peace after th e w ithdraw al of federal troops and even speculated about political cooperation betw een w hites and blacks. C onservative ed itorialists cautioned th e ir readers to be dis creet in both word and deed because th e radicals would seize on th e slig h test p retex t to conduct a bloody sh irt cam paign.66As usual, im petu ous D em ocrats w ere th e ir own w orst enem ies. Blam ing all political and racial disturbances on th e Republicans and aggressive blacks, fireeaters expressed all too m uch enthusiasm about fighting for w hite su prem acy. A candid G eorgia editor described th e redem ption of his state: "H ad our people failed to repel force by force—had they failed to m eet th e carpet-baggers, th e scalaw ags and th e deluded negroes upon ground of th e ir own selection, w ith weapons in th eir hands to defend th e ir
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b irth rig h t and th e ir manhood------The S tate governm ent would still be in th e hands of adventurers and thieves."*8 Southern Republicans knew these hotspurs could not restrain th eir tongues and feared they could not control th eir itchy trigger fingers. In several states. Dem ocrats forced blacks to sign protection papers pledg ing to vote conservative. In letters w ritten to th eir northern political allies, southern Republicans painted a gruesome picture of large arm s shipm ents coming into th e South and of Negroes being slaughtered like cattle. A triu m p h an t Democratic party, a South C arolina Republi can editor w arned, would give no q u arter to Union men or blacks.60 The plaintiveness of these pleas reflected th e desperation of southern Republicans. The halfhearted support of national party leaders cou pled w ith th e m ounting tide of counterrevolution in the southern states darkened th e political future. W ith th e ir enem ies in disarray, southern conservatives expected th e radicals to reso rt to an old-fashioned sectional cam paign as a final ploy to retain th e ir power. Southern editors charged th a t Senator O liver P. M orton of Indiana and A ttorney G eneral W illiam s had sen t out in structions to th e ir stooges in the South to m anufacture outrage tales for northern consum ption. W hen Powell Clayton issued a pam phlet on violence in A rkansas, th e leading Democratic newspaper in th e state caustically commented: "N othing would su it Senator Clayton’s views m ore th an to see a hundred or two colored men killed. It would be a sw eet m orsel, w ith which he would appeal to a p artisan Congress to rein state him in power.”61 A lthough th e bloodshed in Dixie was all too real, southern conserva tiv es were correct in charging certain northern Republicans w ith an eagerness to exploit the issue and avoid more politically dangerous questions. As th e Dem ocrats appeared to be gaining strength in th e early fall balloting, Republican stum p speakers could hardly resist resorting to th e fam iliar antisouthern rhetoric. B ut when the extent of th e conservative tid al wave became apparent in th e October elections, southern Dem ocrats crowed th a t th e radical outrage m ill had finally ground itself to pieces.66 By November th e full dim ensions of the Re publican d isaster became clear. The Democrats gained eighty-five seats to capture control of th e House of R epresentatives and did equally well in sta te and local contests. The southern Republican con tin g en t in th e Forty-Fourth Congress would be pitifully sm all.69 If th e issue of southern violence had played itself out in northern politics, it w as not because of tran q u illity in the southland. Conserva tives m ight claim th a t disturbances occurred only in those states still under Republican control, b u t events in Gibson County, Tennessee, proved otherw ise. Reports spread in A ugust 1874 th a t arm ed blacks
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were planning to m urder w hites and burn th e sm all town of Picketsville. On A ugust 24 and 25, local authorities rounded up th e suspects and placed them in th e county ja il a t Trenton. A fter two unsuccessful attem pts, a mob of betw een 75 and 150 w hites broke into the cells and seized 16 prisoners. Roping them together, th e mob dragged the m en a few hundred yards to a bridge and started shooting. Four blacks w ere killed, two were wounded, and th e rest m iraculously escaped. Governor Jo h n C. Brown offered a $500 rew ard for the capture of each guilty party, and eventually forty-one persons were indicted in state courts. Brown, however, m itigated his condem nation of th is crim e by blam ing th e federal Civil R ights bill for spurring th e blacks to insurrection. The governor criticized th e U nited S tates m arshal for m aking arrests w hen the sta te and local au th o rities were prosecuting the case to th e best of th e ir ability. U nited S tates attorney W. W. M urray doubted it would be possible to bring th e accused m en to tria l in state courts and pushed ahead w ith federal indictm ents, b u t A ttorney G eneral W illiam s ordered th e prosecutions dropped because of the difficulty in obtaining convic tions under th e Enforcem ent Acts in light of recent court decisions.*4 The obvious failure of federal enforcem ent polity, the disaffection o f Republicans over Reconstruction issues, and th e Democratic landslide raised southern spirits. E cstatic editors announced th e death of w arrelated issues in national politics and rejoiced th a t the arm y could no longer prevent th e overthrow of th e rem aining Republican state gov ernm ents. W ith a Dem ocratic m ajority in the House, th e South would have enough leverage to deter G rant from new m ilitary adventures and elect a Dem ocratic president in 1876.** In the wake of an apparent revolution in national politics, a q u iet confidence spread across th e South. The reaction to a threatened black uprising in Georgia during 1875 illu strated m ost clearly th is change in atm osphere. The election of a black m ilitia general in Hancock County, southw est of A ugusta, alarm ed nervous whites. Rumors spread during A ugust th a t a black m an nam ed Candy H arris w as m ustering arm ed Negroes in neighboring W ashington and Jefferson counties to m assacre w hites. Posses moved into B urke County, ju st south of A ugusta, and arrested Joe M orris (described a s a “notorious negro agitator” by th e A ugusta Chronicle and Sentinel) and several other reported ring leaders. All told, some forty blacks had been captured in W ashington and Jefferson counties, and local newspapers carried stories of a bloody conspiracy extending to as m any as tw enty counties in central Georgia. The arrests calmed the public mind, and m any of the incarcerated Ne groes blam ed the affair on H arris and M orris. Despite thorough search ing, w hite raid ers never found th e estim ated five hundred to a thousand blacks alleged to have been under arm s. Although officials had jailed
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one hundred blacks, they held only twenty-five for tria l. U nlike in su r rection panics of th e past, there were no sum m ary executions. Judge H erschel Johnson charged a sta te grand ju ry th a t th e accused were presum ed innocent and th e ju ro rs should not allow m om entary passions to overcome th e ir sense of justice. Even though several blacks were indicted, subsequent tria ls ended w ith th e charges being dropped for lack of evidence.46Southern editors congratulated th e people of Georgia on th e ir calm ness in dealing w ith such a dangerous situation. For conservatives, these soothing words belied th e work still to be done. Dem ocrats in Louisiana, M ississippi, and South C arolina still seethed w ith discontent, ready to drive th e hated Republicans from the h alls of governm ent. The course of th e counterrevolution had th u s far been tortuous; each sta te had tak en its own som etim es halting path to redem ption. Some states returned to th e Democratic fold w ith little upheaval or bloodshed; in others, violence played a significant if not decisive role. Southern opponents of Reconstruction had found both national politicians and th e hooded terrorism of th e Ku Klux K lan ineffective instrum ents to overthrow Republican sta te governm ents. A lthough factionalism am ong th e ir opponents had sped th e course of redem ption, im patient politicians refused to w ait on such an evolution ary process. The y ear 1874 m arked a tu rn in g point. The success of th e A labam a plan and th e new Democratic m ajority in th e House inspired conservative leaders in th e “unredeem ed” states and gave them tacti cal instruction a t the sam e tim e. The disorganization and uncertainty of th e K lan period had gone. The weakness of southern Republicanism , the abandonm ent of federal law enforcem ent in th e South, and th e steady w ithdraw al of th e soldiers m ade the completion of th e counter revolution only a m atter of tim e.
8. Counterrevolution Aborted: Louisiana* 1871—1875
^ ■ ■ ■ o u is ia n a symbolized the feebleness of radical Reconstruction and Republican southern policy- The factional quarrels between th e state’s young governor, H enry Clay W arm oth, and federal officials in New O rleans (the “Custom House” Republicans) were th e most acrimo nious in th e South. Black Republicans, led by L ieutenant Governor Pinckney Benton S tu a rt Pinchbeck, often acted independently and re sisted w hite dom ination. An 1871 Republican convention a t which th e W arm oth and Custom House factions had vied for control nearly ended in bloodshed. In Jan u ary 1872 the Custom House men joined w ith th e Democrats in a desperate scheme to suspend W arm oth from office. Again violence w as narrow ly averted, thanks in large p a rt to the level headed actions of G eneral W illiam H. Emory, then in command of federal troops in the state. W hile charges of corruption sw irled around W arm oth’s head, th e unrelenting opposition of th e Custom House Re publicans and, of course, the Democrats steadily pushed Louisiana toward anarchy.1 The election of 1872 only increased th is factional ferm ent. Although there were in itially five parties in the field, eventually the contest narrow ed to Fusionists and the Republicans. The former, consisting of Democrats, W arm oth backers, and a handful of old W higs, supported a tick et led by Dem ocrat John D. McEnery and Liberal Republican D. B. Penn. W ith Dem ocrat M cEnery of O uachita P arish heading the coali tion, m any Republicans believed the old corrupt Democracy of John Slidell had been reborn. The Republicans patched over differences be tween th e Custom House contingent and the blacks by nom inating Verm ont carpetbagger W illiam P itt Kellogg for governor and black Custom H oubo supporter C. C. Antoine for lieutenant governor. Com pared to the ebullient and skillful W armoth, Kellogg struck people as a cold fish who was not a t home in Louisiana’s exotic political w aters.
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N or w as Kellogg an ardent supporter of Negro rights; one story circu lated th a t he alw ays wore a glove when he shook hands w ith a black m an.2 There are no m eans short of necromancy to determ ine who won the election of 1872 in Louisiana. The cam paign was quiet by the state’s usual standards. W arm oth used his control of th e election m achinery to best advantage, and th e retu rn s showed th a t the Fusion ticket won th e election. Republicans accused the governor’s registrars of refusing to enroll black voters, of moving polling places to rem ote locations, of dosing th e voting early, and of stuffing the ballot boxes. They also claimed th a t Fusion supporters had used physical th reats and eco nomic intim idation against Negroes. Although some of these tales were obviously m anufactured by U nited S tates M arshal Stephen B. Packard and his Custom House cohorts to buttress th eir case for over tu rn in g the results, there is no doubt th a t enough irregularities oc curred to skew the outcome. Because both sides claimed victory, state law m andated th a t th e R eturning Board (consisting of the governor, lieutenant governor, secretary of state, and two state senators) would count th e ballots and declare th e w inners.2 A comic opera of political and legal m aneuvering followed th a t turned a sta te election into a national scandal. In all, four different R eturning Boards m et, three th a t declared in favor of th e Fusionists and one in favor of the Republicans. Charges of bribery and double dealing circulated freely; apparently a Kellogg supporter offered Warm oth a U nited S tates Senate seat if he would abandon McEnery and Penn.4 Into th is labyrinthine confusion stepped th e national government. On November 23, Kellogg wrote to ask Republican N ational Chairm an W illiam E. C handler w hether th e federal governm ent would furnish soldiers to execute any court orders issued against W armoth. On De cem ber 3, A ttorney G eneral W illiam s telegraphed Packard ordering him to "enforce th e decrees and m andates of th e U nited States courts, no m atter by whom resisted, and General Emory will furnish you w ith all necessary troops for th a t purpose.” Secretary of W ar W illiam W. Belknap sen t sim ilar instructions to Emory, who held his men in readi ness, as yet unaw are of th e developing Republican scheme. On Decem ber 5, federal judge Edmund H. D urell, an old m an in poor health and much under th e influence of Kellogg’s friends, issued a decree direct ing Packard to occupy th e statehouse and disperse all illegal assem blies there. This directive m eant the m arshal could prevent the con vening of any legislative body recognized by W armoth’s R eturning Board and could him self, in effect, determ ine who had a "legitim ate" claim to a se at in th e legislature.2
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The next m orning, Packard had a m ilitary posse guarding the statehouse, and Judge D urell declared W armoth’s Board illegal and ordered th e Republican R eturning Board to take possession of and canvass th e returns. Since W arm oth refused to hand them over, the Republican board decided, w ithout consulting any official documents, th a t Kellogg and a m ajority of th e Republican legislative candidates had been elected. This new legislature then held an extra session on December 9 and impeached W arm oth, thereby m aking Pinchbeck acting governor of the state * A fter Democrats held "indignation" m eetings. Pinchbeck asked for m ilitary assistance, and G eneral Emory kept his men ready in case of a clash between th e riv al claim ants.7 W arm oth called th e legislature recognized by his R eturning Board into session a t C ity H all and proclaim ed th e body organized by Pinchback and Kellogg to be illegal. A fter A ttorney G eneral W illiam s in formed Pinchbeck on December 12 th a t the president recognized him and the Republican legislature, arm ed conflict between rival state mi litias seemed likely.* Pinchback w rote to G rant com plaining th a t th e W arm oth m ilitia had taken over the sta te arm ory and was in open revolt against his governm ent. U nder orders from W ashington, Emory came to Pinchbeck’s aid and recaptured the arm ory, tu rn in g it back over to Pinchback’s police. Kellogg, Pinchback, and other Republicans saw th e assem bling of th e riv al McEnery legislature as the first step tow ard an attem pted coup against the state governm ent. As the situ a tion deteriorated. Republicans charged the McEnery forces w ith plan ning to assassinate Pinchback and blow up th e statehouse w ith nitroglycerine.* The clim ax to th is fiasco came on Jan u ary 13, when Kellogg and McEnery each held his own inauguration ceremony. Louisiana then had two governors, two legislatures, and two state governm ents. More th an any other Republican regim e in th e South, th e Kellogg govern m ent freed a chronic crisis of legitim acy. M any w hite natives would alw ays see Kellogg as a usurper imposed on the sta te and kept in power by th e force of federal bayonets. Conservative leader E. John E llis urged a cheering crowd in New O rleans never to recognize Kel logg and do everything possible to in stall McEnery as governor.10 T his deadlock revealed th e problem s faced by th e national govern m ent in attem pting to a rb itrate sta te political quarrels. The G rant adm inistration comm itted itself to upholding Kellogg w ithout know ing th e tru e situation in New O rleans. B ut no (me in W ashington proposed using m ilitary force against th e McEnery forces. Instead, th e adm inistration's response to a revolutionary situation was telegram s and a m inim al com m itm ent of soldiers. The fau lt lay in p a rt w ith Kellogg, whose strategy in th e crisis was
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to w ait for th e spring sunshine to m elt away the opposition. He blithely inform ed A ttorney G eneral W illiam s th a t public sentim ent, p articularly am ong New O rleans businessm en, was running against M cEnery.11 Kellogg w as e ith er naive or deliberately deceptive, but th is w as not th e la st tim e he would m islead officials in W ashington about th e condition of affairs in Louisiana. Despite Kellogg's optim ism , both the conservative New Orleans Pic ayune and th e fire-eating Shreveport Times called for unyielding resis tance to th e 'ille g a l” Kellogg governm ent. W hen McEnery organized h is own sta te m ilitia, the chance of civil w ar in the state dram atically increased. E llis told an enthusiastic New O rleans audience a t the end of February th a t he w as tired of "truckling to th e U nited S tates” and would ignore G rant's recognition of Kellogg. A popular m otto recom m ended "no q u arter for th e usurpation.” The Republicans discounted such th rea ts because they were sure arm ed resistance would be crushed by th e sta te m ilitia and federal troops.1* On the n ig h t of M arch 6, a division ofM cEnery’s m ilitia attem pted to capture a police station in the old Cabildo on Jackson Square in New O rleans. C itizens broke into a nearby gun store and distributed weap ons to a crowd of some six hundred m en, who then opened fire on th e statio n house. G eneral A. S. Badger, th e commander of the Metropoli ta n Police, arrived w ith U nited S tates troops to disperse th e mob. This attack shocked Kellogg into taking the blustering of the McEnery forces more seriously, and he decided th e charade of dual governm ents had to end.13 Fearing a possible coup by th e Fusionists, th e governor moved against th e M cEnery "governm ent.” Police arm ed w ith W inchester rifles invaded th e Odd Fellows’ H all, w here the McEnery legislature had been m eeting, and arrested sixty-five persons for th eir involve m ent in th e assau lts on th e Cabildo. McEnery angrily berated the m ilitary for complicity in th is action, b u t Emory replied th a t his men had had nothing to do w ith th e dispersal of th e Fusion legislature and informed th e would-be governor th a t his orders required the protection of the legally recognized sta te governm ent. Kellogg, obviously pleased and alw ays optim istic, reported th a t "everything is quiet.”14 The governor had again cried peace when there was no peace. As McEnery*s shadow governm ent disappeared, th e cry still rose for resis tance, and defiant conservatives threatened not to pay th e ir taxes, which a "foreign” governm ent had no legitim ate rig h t to collect from the people. Republicans calm ly asserted th a t tax resistance was a great failure.13 Perhaps to overthrow Kellogg by tax avoidance or striking a direct blow in New O rleans was not possible. The Republi cans' real vulnerability lay in th e country parishes, where local offi-
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cials faced strong opposition and federal troops were m iles away. W hether the state’s Democratic leaders decided to shift the attack on Kellogg to th e local level is impossible to determ ine because of th e absence of surviving records from the conservative side. In any case, a series of incidents in th e country parishes strikingly dem onstrated Kellogg’s inability to protect his political allies. G rant P arish in central Louisiana 350 m iles northw est of New O r leans became th e scene of the bloodiest attack on local Republican power anyw here in the South. The legislature had created the parish in 1868, nam ing it after President-elect G rant and designating the parish seat of Colfax in honor of th e new vice-president, Schuyler Colfax. Both geo graphically and socially, the parish contained two distinct areas: an alluvial plain along the Red River inhabited mostly by blacks and a h ill country populated prim arily by w hite fanners. The town of Colfax con sisted of W illiam Calhoun’s plantation buildings near which most ofth e blacks lived; Montgomery, some twelve m iles to the north, was th e w hite settlem ent. The parish population of approxim ately forty-five hundred persons had roughly equal num bers of w hites and blacks. Democrats believed th e Republicans had established the parish to sup ply them selves w ith lucrative offices, particularly for Calhoun, who was considered both politically and m orally corrupt because he cohabited w ith a black woman whom he had supposedly “purchased” in New Or leans. A fter the election of 1872, w hites accused W illiam W ard, a blade m em ber of the legislature, ofprom ising Negroes th a t they would receive the lands of th eir form er m asters if they voted for Kellogg.16 The state election imbroglio resulted in two sets of local officials in G rant Parish. McEnery commissioned the Fusionist candidates, Al phonse Cazabat and C hristopher Columbus Nash, as parish judge and sheriff respectively. A t th e urging of two w hite citizens, Kellogg rec ognized Cazabat and N ash hut soon changed his mind and declared th e Republican candidates for judge (R. C. Register) and sheriff (Daniel Shaw) legally elected. On M arch 31 Register and Shaw climbed in a window of th e Colfax courthouse and took possession of th eir offices. W ard and other leaders summoned blacks into Colfax to defend these officials against an expected attack. Some arm ed w hites approached th e town on A pril 1 and 3 but turned back when they saw the large num ber of blacks. Most of the w hites living in town left, and the Neto Orleans Republican warned th a t the blacks would no longer kowtow to th e w hites or be bullied into submission. W ard and another black leader, E. H. Flowers, la te r denounced Kellogg for deliberately recog nizing two sets of officers in the parish and thereby stirrin g up racial strife to aid his own cause. Contem porary evidence, however, suggests th a t th e governor was more indecisive th an devious.17
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The parish political conflict exacerbated already existing racial ten sions. Democratic concerns extended far beyond m erely seating Cazabat and N ash. The w hite farm ers in th e hills could not tolerate being governed by blacks such as W ard and Flowers. The struggle in Colfax exemplified w hat Roger Fischer has called the "unusual desperation” of w ü te Louisianians to keep black people in th eir "proper” place.18 Louisiana's free black population had long exerted more influence th an th a t of any other state. It had aroused resentm ent among m any w hites, who were determ ined to crush black political, economic, and social power before it destroyed th e foundations of w hite supremacy. The blacks in Colfax seized th e courthouse and made it th eir head quarters. H iey improvised two cannons from gas pipes and fired these off periodically, frightening the few w hites still in the vicinity. Rumors spread th a t blacks were planning to k ill all th e w hite men, take th e w hite women for them selves, and produce a "new race” of people. Some blacks broke into W. R. R utland's deserted house and took a sm all coffin containing th e body of his daughter, who had died in Lake Charles in 1867, th a t R utland was preparing to reinter. As they hauled the coffin away, th e corpse fell out on the ground. Passing steam boat captains reported arm ed Negroes along the banks of the river pa trolling th e outskirts of town. Kellogg considered sending A djutant General Jam es Longstreet and the M etropolitan Police to Colfax b u t did not act u n til it w as too late. W hite Republicans unsuccessfully pleaded w ith th e Negroes to disband and then fled w ith the other w hites on a steam boat to New O rleans. The blacks picketed the roads for a tw enty-m ile radius around Colfax, and four to five hundred Ne groes, m any of them arm ed, occupied the town, throw ing up crude breastw orks to defend th eir stronghold.18 These actions frightened both th e Democrats and Republican leaders, who seemed to be losing control of th eir black followers. In crises de m anding bold action, w hite Republicans often tim idly refused to counte nance black retaliatio n against w hite aggression. Scalawags and car petbaggers daily faced the dilem m a of th eir dependence on black voters but were unw illing to share power w ith them . The failure to unite in the face of conservative hostility allowed Democratic terro rists to tak e th e offensive. Fusion sheriff N ash m arched a group of arm ed w hites tow ard Colfax, but blacks drove them away. On A pril 5 fifteen of these men shot black farm er Jesse McKinney as he was m ending a fence. The m urder fur th er excited th e Negroes in town. N ash called for aid from the su r rounding parishes of W inn, Rapides, Natchitoches, and C atahoula, and by A pril 13 he had collected a force of between 125 and 300 men.80 On E aster Sunday, A pril 13, N ash and more th an one hundred men
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moved toward Colfax; some w hites returned to th eir homes rath er th an fight the entrenched blacks. The sheriff arrayed his forces along the east bank of the river, giving the defenders a h alf hour to remove th eir women and children. Levi Allen, the leader of the black forces (W ard had joined his w hite friends in New Orleans), placed 250 to 400 men behind the breastw orks and refused to surrender. Around noon w hite skirm ish lines engaged th e blacks, and sporadic firing continued u n til about three o'clock in th e afternoon. A t th a t tim e a squad of th irty w hites crept along th e riverbank, found a gap in the breastw orks, and poured through the opening to am bush the blacks from the rear. Panicstricken, they fled in all directions; some 150 took refuge in the court house. A fter th e w hites brought in a cannon and fired on the building, some blacks hoisted a flag of truce, and several w hites moved forward. N ash's men la te r claimed th a t the Negroes had treacherously fired on them as they approached w ith th eir w hite flag, but th e black survivors countered th a t the w hites had m urdered unarm ed blacks rushing out of the building. In any case, the shooting of two w hites near the courthouse fu rther incensed th e mob. The posse forced an old Negro to set fire to th e courthouse and killed blacks trying to escape the flames. The «dûtes chased blacks into the countryside and killed an unknown num ber. By th e tim e th irty or forty prisoners were under guard, many of the m en from the neighboring parishes returned home. Eyewitnesses later stated th a t young, im pulsive w hites had been left in charge of the cap tured Negroes and th a t during th e n ight these sentinels took th e blacks away two by two and shot them . Some m iraculously escaped by feigning death. Perhaps as m any as one hundred blacks lay dead around the courthouse and in th e woods.*1 The bloodshed a t Colfax substantiates Richard H ofstadter's generalization th a t racial and ethnic conflict has produced the most lethal riots in American history.** Louisiana w hites believed Kellogg had engineered a Negro riot a t Colfax for his own selfish purposes. Conservative editors favorably compared th e slaughter to General Philip Sheridan's recent m assacre of the Modoc Indians. The state's Republicans downplayed the local causes for the G rant P arish violence and interpreted it as p art of a conservative conspiracy to subvert the state government.*3 Federal soldiers arrived a t Colfax on the evening of April 21 under orders to arrest th e participants in th e riot. Many of the guilty parties, including Nash and other ringleaders, left the parish. Armed men invaded Colfax in A ugust, threatening the lives of anyone aiding in the prosecution of th e rioters. Democrats charged th a t the defendants had been arrested on the basis of false affidavits signed by ignorant Negroes who had them selves been involved in the fighting and took up collections for the prisoners’ defense. A federal grand ju ry originally
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returned indictm ents against seventy-two men under the Enforcement Acts, but on th e advice of A ttorney General W illiams, prosecutor Jam es R. Beckwith brought only nine of these cases to tria l in early 1874. Black w itnesses retold in detail th e events of April 13,1873, but th e defendants produced a strin g of witnesses who swore th a t the ac cused had not been in Colfax on th a t E aster Sunday. Such conflicting testim ony led to the acquittal of one m an and a hung ju ry in the other cases, despite suspicions th a t m any w hite witnesses had committed perjury. A t a second tria l for th e rem aining eight accused men in May and Ju n e, W illiam C ruikshank and two others were found guilty of violating several conspiracy provisions of the Enforcement Acts.34 C ruikshank and his co-defendants appealed th eir convictions to th e U nited S tates C ircuit Court. The district judge, who had presided a t th e earlier trials, upheld th e original verdict, b u t Supreme Court Ju s tice Joseph P. Bradley wrote an opinion th a t virtually em asculated the Enforcem ent Acts. Bradley m aintained th a t under the Fourteenth and Fifteenth am endm ents Congress could pass legislation prohibiting the states from infringing th e rights of U nited States citizens but had no jurisdiction over th e actions of private individuals and could not enact laws dealing w ith crim es such as m urder, robbery, and assault, which norm ally fell under state jurisdiction. W ith th e C ircuit Court divided, the case w ent autom atically to the Supreme Court. C hief Justice Mor rison R. W aite's m ajority opinion agreed w ith Justice Bradley's posi tion on th e scope of congressional authority to enforce the postwar am endm ents. The C ourt affirmed Bradley’s verdict of dism issal and ordered th e defendants discharged. Beckwith had recognized the dan gerous consequences of Bradley's opinion even before the Supreme C ourt heard th e case. He warned th a t such a narrow interpretation of federal jurisdiction made arm ed bands in the South immune from prosecution and gave tim id grand jurors a convenient excuse to avoid doing th e ir duly. The significance of these decisions was not lost on w hite leaders in Alabam a, M ississippi, and South Carolina.33 A fter Colfax, the counterrevolutionary offensive against Republican officials quickly spread to other parishes, where men elected on the McEnery ticket forced Kellogg's officers to resign th eir positions. Democrats seized power in Franklin Parish in northeastern Louisiana and organized a m ilitia to protect them selves. In May 1873 a Fusionist tax collector in New O rleans stepped up to a carriage in which Kellogg was riding and fired a shot through th e top of the vehicle as it sped away. Although th e governor was unharm ed, he m ust have finally realized the lengths to which his fanatical opponents would go in th eir efforts to seat McEnery.*8 According to reports in th e New Orleans Republican, Kellogg was
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gathering arm a for the M etropolitan Police to oust the McEneiy usurpers and reinstate Republican officials. The first test of th is effort came in St. M artin Parish, located in the swampy Teche region of the state. M etropolitans commanded by General A. S. Badger left New O rleans on May 3 for St. M artinville to install the Kellogg officers and put down the tax resistance movement. Colonel Alcibiades DeBlanc, one of the founders of the Knights of the W hite Camellia, commanded the McEnery m ilitia in the parish. When the M etropolitans ap proached the town, DeBlanc and his force of four to six hundred men offered only token opposition and retired from the field, allowing Badger’s men to occupy St. M artinville. After the general had installed a Republican judge and district attorney in the courthouse, DeBlanc's men periodically fired off th eir two cannons. Emory sent troope to prevent a collision. Despite th reats against Badger's men, after a brief skirm ish on May 7, DeBlanc ordered his forces back into a swamp from which they later fled when federal troops finally arrived. A deputy United States m arshal, who had accompanied the soldiers, brought a packet of arrest w arrants with him but found few of the parties named in them . DeBlanc and ten other insurrectionists finally surrendered to federal officials and were taken to New Orleans, where a cheering crowd greeted them a t the ferry landing. A United States commis sioner later dismissed the charges, but both peace and Kellogg's offi cials had returned to the parish.27 Ironically, during the disorder, the state government undertook an am bitious reform program th a t included tax reductions, some lessen ing of corruption, lower state expenditures, and the establishm ent of a sound funding system for the state debt.28W hite Louisianians still saw Kellogg as a conscienceless carpetbagger kept in power by federal bay onets and had no interest in reforms. Although McEnery’s government seems to have faded from the picture, resistance to the Republicans a t the local level continued unabated. In Franklin Parish, arm ed men ambushed and killed D istrict Judge T. S. Crawford and D istrict At torney A. H. H arris. When the guilty parties were arrested, a mob threatened to rescue them from the jail. A police juror in northern Louisiana returned his commission to the governor, saying, “I cannot w ith safety accept it.” An Alexandria Republican claimed it was not uncommon for blacks to be hanged or shot in Rapides Parish and warned th a t they m ight have to take the law into th eir own hands.28 Kellogg underestim ated the strength of this opposition and greatly misled his northern friends about the vitality of his regime. At the end of 1873, the governor informed Senator Morton th a t conservative resis tance was fading and th a t his government could m aintain order in Louisiana w ithout calling on federal troops. Claiming to have worked
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out a m odus vivendi w ith th e New O rleans business com m unity, Kel logg naively predicted, "The prospects of th e republican party are b rig h t for th e fu tu re.” By February 1874, he was even more sanguine: ”1 rep eat th ere is no contingency th a t I can a t all im agine as likely to occur in th e fu tu re in which we cannot su stain ourselves.”30 B ut by th e beginning of 1874 opposition to Republican rule had grown desperate. A rguing th a t defiance to tyranny w as a citizen’s m ost solem n duty, conservative leaders proclaim ed th a t Kellogg and his m inions stayed in power only because of th e presence of federal sol* diets. The N ew Orleans B ulletin, which w as fast becoming the leading organ of th e sta te ’s reactionary zealots, m aintained th a t when all peaceful avenues of protest had been closed, th ere would be an “out b u rst of indignation ag ain st th is usurping Governm ent, as w ill sweep it from power and consign it, we tru st, to th e farth est depths of oblivion.”31 More im portant, w hite leaders w atched carefully as large num bers of troops w ere w ithdraw n from th e South, northern opinion tu rn ed ag ain st th e carpetbag regim es, and G rant failed to su stain Republican governors in Texas and A rkansas. The tim e seemed ripe to strik e a blow for liberty. In th e spring and sum m er of 1874 M cEnery led a sw elling chorus calling for th e organization of a ll w hite people to overthrow Republi can ru le and drive th e carpetbaggers from the state. Rabid conserva tiv es em phasized th e critical necessity o f form ing a solid phalanx ag ain st th e tid e of social equality and m iscegenation brought on by radical oppression. W hites blam ed th e Negroes for voting ag ain st th e best in terests of th e com m unity, form ing arm ed Black Leagues, and hatching vile conspiracies. Several northern Louisiana editors as serted th a t blacks had draw n th e color line against w hites and th a t th e superior race would re ta lia te by m ustering its stren g th to defeat these forces of barbarism .33 T his overblown rhetoric allowed w hites of all social classes to feel persecuted and to credit th e ir opponents w ith evil designs. From acceptance of th is logic it w as an easy step to justify violent insurrection ag ain st th e “enem y.”33 H eightened w hite paranoia produced new rum ors of black organiza tion for racial w arfare. New spaper reporters claim ed to have dis covered several insurrectionary plots in the country parishes during the sum m er. Even th e usually restrained N ew Orleans Picayune car ried chilling accounts of an arm ed Black League whose object w as to kill w hite m en and enslave w hite women. The editors published an alleged constitution of th is society in which th e m em bers were pledged to to tal secrecy and given an elaborate aeries of secret passwords and handshakes. The insu b stan tial n atu re of th is “evidence” m ade even racial fanatics question th e danger.34
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The flim siness of th is rationale w as obvious because W hite Leagues began organizing in the ru ral parishes during the spring of 1874, long before any m ention of Black Leagues appeared in th e press. S tarting in Opelousas these groups spread north into the Red River parishes. W ith pageantry and the enthusiastic participation of women and children, w hites held large rallies whose festival atm osphere belied th eir serious purpose. H istorians have not recognized th e importance of these m ass m eetings in tu rn in g norm ally peaceful citizens into angry mobs; propaganda and hoopla are necessary precursors of revolutionary ac tion. The resolutions adopted a t these gatherings recited the fam iliar litany on th e evils of the Kellogg adm inistration, and th e W hite League in S t M artin P arish compared its catalog of grievances against Republicans to those of the Am erican colonies against G reat B ritain listed in the D eclaration of Independence. Emboldened by the winds of political reaction blowing out of the northern states, Louisiana conser vatives openly vowed to use intim idation to crush the black electoral m ajority. The W hite Leaguers shared a singular anim us against th e traito rs to th eir race, both scalawags and carpetbaggers, who had alien ated th e black m asses from them . They favored the social and economic ostracism of these w hite Judases and Benedict Arnolds, and m any of th eir rash er statem ents contained faintly concealed th reats against the lives of w hite Republicans.96 Although th ere is little reliable inform ation on membership, th e Louisiana W hite League seems to have been a broad-based movement among the state’s w hite citizens. Yeomen farm ers suffering from eco nomic depression were eager recruits in the w ar against the Negro.96 U nlike th e K nights of the W hite Cam ellia or th e Ku Klux Klan, th e W hite League operated openly w ith extensive press coverage of its activities. Few penons tried to conceal th eir membership in the orga nization, perhaps because there was decreasing danger th a t the federal governm ent would move against them . The W hite League began a t the parish level, and there is no hard evidence of any statew ide organiza tion; newspaper accounts of W hite League rallies in one area seemed to inspire th e form ation of sim ilar organizations elsewhere. The relation ship between the W hite League and the Democratic party was simple: th e party convention, which m et in Baton Rouge in A ugust, adopted a platform calling for all those opposed to the Kellogg "usurpation” to join together for th e preservation of w hite civilization.97 Even th is document’s hollow pledge to respect the rights of all citizens regardless of race was sim ilar to those contained in many W hite League state m ents. As th e Republicans quickly realized, the W hite League was th e m ilitary arm of the Democratic party. Perceptive conservatives feared the rash statem ents and violent acts
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o f fanatical W hite Leaguers would injure Louisiana's cause in the eyes of th e nation and delay redem ption. They had good reason to be appre hensive. The Natchitoches People’s Vindicator pledged th a t the w hites would defy th e Kellogg governm ent "with a lt the means the God o f nature has placed w ithin our reach" The fire-breathing editor of the Shreveport Tim es issued a solemn w arning to the Republicans: "If a single hostile gun is fired between the w hites and blacks in th is and surrounding parishes, every carpetbagger and scalawag th a t can be caught, w ill in twelve hours therefrom be dangling from a limb.”** Such th reats were not m ere bluster. Republican officials in N atchi toches P arish received anonymous notices th a t "the people” would ex term inate all thieving rascals. Conservative leaders clamored for th e resignations of police jurors and other officials. D istrict Judge Henry C. M yers and parish Judge D. H. Boullt, Jr., fearing for th eir lives, left the parish. An estim ated th irteen hundred persons assembled in Natchitoches on Ju ly 27 to demand th a t Myers, Boullt, and several other parish officials surrender th eir positions. Parish attorney J . J . Bossier and the tax collector, D. H. Boullt, Sr., quickly succumbed to the pressure and resigned.9* The expulsion of Kellogg's men in N atchi toches not only made it impossible for the Republicans to canvass the parish b u t also gave th e W hite League encouragem ent to move against local officials elsewhere. The redoubtable Alcibiades DeBlanc led an arm ed mob th a t forced the officeholders in St. M artin Parish to flee to New O rleans. DeBlanc made several blustering speeches urging the people to defy the Metro politan Police if they dared to en ter St. M artinville. The revolt spread north into Avoylles, W inn, Lincoln, and W ebster parishes. A tax payers' association in Caddo Parish (Shreveport) investigated local assessm ents and adm ittedly tried to frighten Republican "rogues and scoundrels." Although Republicans lamely contended th a t coerced res ignations were pointless because Kellogg would never accept them , few officials would retu rn to th eir parishes unless accompanied by U nited S tates troops.40 W hite League spokesmen dismissed Republican reports of violence as partisan attem pts to m anufacture outrages for campaign speeches,41 but events in Red River Parish soon gave the lie to these statem ents. M arshall Harvey Twitchell was a Union arm y veteran from Vermont, who had settled in the sm all town of Coushatta about sixty-five m iles below Shreveport. A fter being elected to the state senate, Twitchell convinced th e legislature to create the new parish of Red River, in which he became th e dom inant power. Twitchell's brother Homer and several other relatives moved to C oushatta and received appointm ents to office from then Governor W armoth. These carpetbaggers had grandiose
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plans for expanding the town and increasing th eir own assets and influence. Twitchell, who was a relatively poor m an when he arrived in Louisiana, soon acquired substantial wealth. He made most of his money by purchasing land a t tax sales, but the Democrats accused him of operating a lucrative “ring” in the parish th a t reaped large profits from the construction of th e C oushatta courthouse. Twitchell’s most b itter political and economic rival, T. W. Abney, resented the sudden prosperity of these new residents, but w hat most exasperated the con servatives was th eir own inability to win elections. W ith a parish popu lation of three hundred w hites and eleven hundred blacks, Twitchell’s control of th e Negro vote made him invincible a t the polls. Since blacks virtually worshiped Twitchell because of his friendship for them and support for th eir schools, th e w hites could see no end to radical rule.48 Abney and other leading conservatives organised a W hite League and a t a public m eeting in Ju ly resolved to “persuade” Twitchell and his cronies to resign th eir offices. Although both Republicans and Democrats la ter agreed to eschew violence, Twitchell had good reason to d istru st his rabid enem ies, and he left for New O rleans to ask Pack ard and Kellogg for federal troops.48 On A ugust 26 some blacks in th e tiny settlem ent of Brownsville, ten m iles below C oushatta on the Red River, argued w ith two white men and threatened th eir lives. One of the w hites moved his family to C oushatta, after which arm ed blacks broke into and searched his home. The following day a posse arrested one of the blacks, Dan Wynn, and tried to arrest another, Tom Jones, b u t Jones opened fire on them , m ortally wounding a young w hite m an. The enraged w hites then m urdered both Negroes and raised the thread-bare cry of black insur rection. W ith Twitchell in New O rleans, w hites suspected the carpet baggers intended to stir up violence among the blacks to provide an excuse for calling in troops.44 Several w hite Republicans rode to Brownsville and assured the blacks th a t the m urders committed by the posse would not go unpun ished. Despite growing apprehensions of a Negro attack, the young people held a dance a t Abney’s new brick store in Coushatta. The occasion was far from festive; th e men came dressed in rough clothes w ith weapons bulging beneath th eir coats, and the women noticed th a t th eir partners seemed distracted and kept nervously watching the door. Meanwhile, a num ber of blacks had gathered a t Homer Twitchell’s home, some hiding under the house and others concealing them selves in a nearby cotton field. Two w hite pickets, who had been posted on the roads leading into town, stopped a Negro carrying a load of buckshot, but he fled into the n ig h t These sentries later m et Homer Twitchell in th e road. A fter speaking briefly w ith him, they returned
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to th eir poste, b u t th e blacks in th e cotton field opened fire. One of the m en received five bullet wounds, but both escaped to w arn those a t the dance th a t th e Negroes had risen in rev o lt45 Having been alerted by couriers dispatched by Abney, a thousand arm ed men from the neighboring parishes poured into Coushatta on A ugust 29. As the mob grew turbulent during the day, Abney and other C oushatta citizens decided to arrest six w hite Republicans for th eir own protection: Homer Twitchell, Sheriff E. S. Edgerton, Robert Dewees, th e tax collector of De Soto Parish, W. R. Howell, Red River P arish attorney, reg istrar C lark Holland, and M. C. W illis, a justice of the peace. They also took a U nited States m arshal, a deputy sheriff, and six Negroes into custody b u t later released them . At a public “tria l” for th e six prisoners held the following day, the W hite Leaguers failed to produce evidence linking any of the Republicans to a Negro insurrection plot b u t demanded th a t they resign th eir offices. All six men acceded and agr eed to leave the state w ithin twenty-four hours. Abney kept th e prisoners under heavy guard and delayed th eir depar tu re an additional day to allow the popular excitem ent to abate.46 The plan w as to escort the men to Texas w ith a posse of th eir own choosing. The prisoners and twenty-five guards left Coushatta on Sun day m orning, A ugust 31, and rode hard but finally stopped to rest th eir horses about tw enty m iles from Shreveport. Back in Coushatta, some young firebrands, who suspected th a t the six Republicans were guilty of m any more crim es th an had been revealed and who disapproved of the “lenient” verdict, pursued th e prisoners. They overtook th eir quarry as the posse was resting and killed all six Republicans, m utilat ing several of the bodies. The guards eith er could not or would not protect th eir charges. Although some witnesses claimed th a t the m as sacre w as done by Texans, the finger of guilt more clearly pointed to W hite Leaguers from Red River and surrounding parishes, led by the bloodthirsty Dick Coleman of De Soto Parish, popularly known as “C aptain Jack.” Shortly afterw ard, a mob lynched the two Negroes charged w ith the earlier wounding of the white picket.47 W ith Republicans scream ing about a reign of terror in Red River Perish, Kellogg sent an account of the m urders to W ashington along w ith a request for more troops. The governor had good reason to fear the C oushatta affair m ight be p art of a larger conspiracy to m urder Republican officials elsewhere because W hite League newspapers pal liated th e crim e and blam ed it on the state government. McEnery denied ever m aking a speech praising the Red River assassins, but he did assert th a t the people had the rig h t to resort to the “param ount law of self-preservation to protect society against the ravages of official plu n d ers» and spoliaton.”45
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McEnery’s statem ent dem onstrates how mobs can cloak th eir m ost hideous acts behind noble-sounding goals.4* These men were not con scious scoundrels b u t rath e r deceived them selves as well as others about th eir violent deeds. Throughout the Reconstruction period, a consistent p attern of m urderous assault followed by m ild reg ret or, more often, vigorous defense emerges. The historian listens for voices to be raised against these outrages b u t hears very little from th e con servative ranks. In th is atm osphere of revolution, ends and m eans become hopelessly muddled in the m inds of ardent partisans. As in other incidents of th is period, th e perpetrators easily escaped punishm ent. Kellogg offered a rew ard of $6,000 for the arrest of th e C oushatta m urderers, and federal soldiers arrived in late Septem ber to restore the Republicans to tenuous power. Major Lewis M errill, who had tangled w ith South C arolina Klansm en in 1871, arrived in Shreveport on October 19 and arrested th irteen persons in connection w ith Red River violence as well as several other persons accused of intim idating blacks and Republican officeholders in neighboring parishes. Conserva tive editors denounced th is latest act of m ilitary despotism, but the prisoners voted under guard on election day, and the charges against them were la ter dropped.50 For M arshall Twitchell, th e C oushatta affair had a grisly sequel. Though he won reelection to th e state senate, Twitchell was exhausted and understandably weary of politics. He appeared for the opening of the legislature in early 1876 and returned home to C oushatta in late April. On May 2, as Twitchell and his brother-in-law , George King, prepared to attend a police Jury m eeting in town, a stranger rode into C oushatta on a pony. Disguised in a rubber raincoat, his face concealed by a fa lse beard, a p air of goggles, and a h a t pulled down over his eyes, th e m an w aited patiently near a blacksm ith shop u n til he saw Twitchell and K ing board th e ferry on th e opposite bank. As they approached th e shore, he leveled a rifle a t the boat and opened fire; King shot back b u t soon fell dead in th e boat. Twitchell was wounded in the leg and jum ped into th e w ater, holding onto the boat w ith first one hand and then th e other as th e disguised m an m ercilessly shot him in each arm . The assas sin rem arked to a horrified woman th a t he was shooting “a dam ned black alligator.” He then m ounted his pony and rode off. The black ferrym an, though wounded, m anaged to pull Twitchell bade into th e boat and prevent him from drowning. Even though an arm y surgeon later am putated both of Twitchell’s arm s near the shoulder, he lived th irty years longer, serving as a consul a t Kingston, Canada. Evidence pointed to the notorious C aptain Jack as the would-be m urderer, but th e tim id sheriff failed to summon a posse. The "stranger” returned to Cou sh atta years la ter for a hero’s welcome.51
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T his tragedy pointed up the very real vulnerability of th e Republi cans in th e hinterlands. N either state forces nor federal soldiers could protect local officeholders finom intim idation or worse in rem ote par ishes. A lthough Joe G ray Taylor has described the C oushatta m assa cre as "one of th e m ost senseless outbreaks of violence in Louisiana history," it was certainly not senseless in th a t it lacked a purpose.” U sing classical g uerrilla w arfare strategy, the W hite League gained control of th e countryside by terrorising the representatives of th e hated Kellogg regim e. Much like Mao Tse-tung’s soldiers or th e Viet Cong, the W hite League steadily expanded its influence in ru ral areas and isolated th e governor's supporters. Kellogg lacked effective au thority outside of New O rleans, and it was questionable how long he could hold out there. In Ju n e th e Crescent City Democratic Club re christened itself th e Crescent C ity W hite League, and its members comm itted all th eir resources to defending w hite civilization against radical tyranny. By Ju ly quasi-m ilitary organizations were arm ing and drilling, eager to take the field against the Republicans a t the first opportunity.53 M any of th e city’s W hite League units attended a large rally on Septem ber 1 to endorse th e Democratic platform drafted a t the Baton Rouge convention. John McEnery asked his loyal supporters how long they were going to tolerate the Kellogg "usurpation" and predicted th a t G rant would soon stop using soldiers to prop up the carpetbaggers. M etropolitan policemen w ith W inchester rifles and a G atling gun ner vously watched the assem blage for any sign of trouble.54 The W ar D epartm ent had sen t additional soldiers to Louisiana after th e Cou sh a tta affair, b u t th e more fanatical W hite Leaguers vowed th a t even federal troops could not stop a popular uprising against Republican oppression. W ith m ost of th e soldiers norm ally in New O rleans sta tioned in Holly Springs, M ississippi, for the yellow fever season, Em ory ominously informed Packard th a t he did not have an adequate force in th e city to keep the peace.55 The W hite League m ilitia in New O rleans had ordered Belgian and Prussian rifles from New York, but Republicans discovered th e ship m ents. The M etropolitan Police seized several boxes of arm s from a store on Canal S treet under w arrants charging th a t these weapons were to be used for an insurrectionary purpose. On Septem ber 10 more rifles arrived on th e steam er Dalla» in crates m arked "m achinery," though they had not been entered on the ship’s m anifest Custom House officers and M etropolitans confiscated th e boxes as they were being unloaded and hauled them to a nearby police station. Shortly thereafter, th e steam er M ississippi docked w ith a large shipm ent of arm s, and w hites swore th a t they would prevent the M etropolitans
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from taking them . On the n ight of Septem ber 13, W hite Leaguers entered th eir arm ory a t th e Leeds Foundry. The officers distributed arm s to th eir men in preparation for th eir duties th e next day.6* W ith McEnery safely exiled to Vicksburg, M ississippi, aw aiting th e results of th e im pending revolution, his lieutenant governor, D. B. Penn, and m ilitary commanders, Frederick N. Ogden and John B. An* gell, decided on a plan of attack. Penn had earlier considered stationing arm ed men n ear th e statehouse (the old St. Louis Hotel), who would kidnap Kellogg, tak e him out to sea, and install McEnery as governor. McEnery, however, feared a violent conflict w ith the Republicans and vetoed th is wild scheme. On Septem ber 12 Ogden and Penn determ ined to take over th e state offices and seize the state records. As p a rt of th is plan, the leaders ordered the W hite League forces to be ready on Mon day m orning, Septem ber 14, to unload the arm s from the M ississippi, by force if necessary. Conservative newspapers published a call for a m ass m eeting a t th e H enry Clay statu e on Canal S treet—the opening move in the attem pted overthrow of the state governm ent.67 A t th e appointed hour of 11:30, a crowd of five thousand persons gathered to h ear fiery orators denounce Kellogg and call for his imme diate resignation. A com m ittee appointed to w ait on the governor re turned to report th a t he refused to receive any message from an arm ed mob, a decision th a t elicited cries of "Hang Kellogg.” As p a rt of the preconcerted plan, arm ed W hite Leaguers appeared on th e streets and threw up barricades along the length of Poydras S treet from Caronde* le t tow ard th e river.6* G eneral Jam es Longstreet, th e adjutant general of the state m ilitia, who had been known during th e Civil W ar as a m asterful defensive general, took th e offensive. Late in the afternoon he m arched his black m ilitiam en and th e M etropolitans from the police station on Jackson Square and distributed them along Canal S treet between th e Custom House and levee. About 250 M etropolitans commanded by G eneral Badger moved from th e levee tow ard the rig h t flank of th e W hite League forces. As they approached G ravier Street, Ogden’s men laid down a blistering fire, forcing the M etropolitans to beat a hasty retre at and to leave two G atling guns and a twelve-pound artillery piece be hind. A t th e Custom House, Longstreet heard the w hites give the rebel yell as they charged, reportedly "blanched,” and ordered his men inside th e building. W hen the Negro m ilitia saw the M etropolitans break and run, they, too, scattered in all directions. The insurrectionary forces now controlled th e city and easily captured state buildings b u t wisely de cided not to attack th e Custom House because it was federal property. In th e fight, the M etropolitans had lost eleven killed and sixty wounded, while the W hite Leaguers suffered twenty-one killed but only nineteen
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wounded. Badger had fallen seriously wounded, and Longstreet was also h it. The casualties could have been much higher because large num bers of people stood on th e levee, stuck th eir heads out windows, or roomed th e streets during the b a ttle ." On receiving word of the fighting. Genera) Emory, who was still in M ississippi, ordered L ieutenant Colonel John R Brooke and four com panies of soldiers to New O rleans. The victorious W hite Leaguers cheered th e arriving soldiers, never suspecting th a t th e federal govern m ent would attem pt to rein state Kellogg. The W ar D epartm ent ordered a relu ctan t Emory to retu rn im m ediately, assum e command, and under no circum stances to recognize the insurgent governm ent. Packard and other Republicans b itterly complained th a t the governm ent would never have been overthrow n had there been a sufficient num ber of federal troops in New O rleans." Conservatives ju bilantly celebrated th e demise of th eir archenemy; the leading W hite League organ proclaimed New O rleans “th e happi est city in th e universe.” David F. Boyd, president of Louisiana S tate U niversity, assured his friend G eneral Sherm an th a t there was “no hostility to th e U nited S tates Government, or to the President” and said th a t even blacks rejoiced a t Kellogg’s downfall. If the adm inistra tion would leave the sta te alone, Boyd advised, there would be no more trouble.61 An ominous q uiet spread over the Crescent C ity on Septem ber 15 as th e W hite Leaguers dism antled th e ir barricades and Acting Governor Penn set up th e new governm ent in th e statehouse. The Custom House w as closed, and Packard reported th a t the insurgents had captured th e police stations, the arsenal, and all other state buildings. W hite League supporters from neighboring parishes poured into th e city to join th e festivities. Inform ing President G rant th a t Louisianians had had no choice b u t to revolt against th e “usurpers” who had oppressed and plundered the people, Penn promised to keep the peace, protect the blacks, and guard federal property from attack. The Republicans were confident G rant would again come to th eir rescue. Armed revolution aries had overpowered sta te authorities, Kellogg wired the president, and all th e resources of th e federal governm ent should be used to put down th is “dom estic violence.”62 C ontrary to conservative expectations, G rant issued a proclam ation on Septem ber 15 calling on the rebellious citizens to disperse w ithin five days and subm it them selves to the legal (Kellogg) governm ent of Louisiana. On th e n ight of Septem ber 17, both McEnery and General Emory arrived in New O rleans. D uring th eir m eeting the following m orning, th e general demanded th a t the “state” troops disperse and retu rn all weapons to th e arm ory. Evidently, a few irreconcilables
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favored resistance, b u t G eneral Ogden and his staff unanim ously re solved Mnot (to] come in conflict w ith U nited S tates troops.” McEnery, trem bling and nearly overcome w ith emotion, conferred w ith Colonel Brooke and surrendered his forces to th e m ilitary authorities. By Sep tem ber 18, th e arm y had restored th e governm ent to Kellogg's hands, and Emory reported all quiet in New O rleans. He doubted th a t th e participants in th e rebellion could be prosecuted because “the outbreak embraced nearly every w hite m an in th e community.”*3 This state m ent accurately described Kellogg's shaky hold on th e reins of power. The in itial success of th e revolution confirmed conservative assess m ents of Republican impotency. Most W hite Leaguers favored contin ued resistance against th e sta te governm ent, and Kellogg, according to th e editor of th e Shreveport Tim es, would receive the sam e obedience as if G rant had placed a “toad" in th e gubernatorial chair. The still tense situation in New O rleans forced the W ar D epartm ent to keep troops in th e city even though it would have preferred transferring them elsew here during the violent 1874 southern election campaign.** The in itial success of th e W hite League putsch m arked the collapse of G rant's policies in Louisiana and the failure of th e Kellogg govern m ent to establish any degree of legitim acy. Even though federal troops restored some Republican officeholders to power, forced resignations continued. As the N ew Orleans B ulletin sm ugly pointed out, soldiers would have to be stationed in all fifty-seven parishes to keep the Re publicans in power.** Armed w hites still patrolled the streets of New O rleans, and G eneral Emory wondered if he had enough troops in the city and state to keep th e peace on election day. Much to Kellogg’s chagrin, th e W hite Lea guers never returned fifteen hundred stand of arm s and two howitzers captured from the sta te arm ory during th e Septem ber rebellion, and Emory refused to order his troops to search for these weapons. In th is tense atm osphere, Kellogg w as in im m ediate personal danger. W hile riding in a cab one day, th e governor saw one of his b itterest political enem ies, E. A. B urke, and m ade a “gesture of derision" w ith his finger. B urke grabbed Kellogg by th e arm , apparently trying to pull him out of th e cab. As th e two men struggled, B urke h it Kellogg several tim es w ith a piece of cowhide. The driver of the cab whipped th e horses, leaving th e enraged B urke spraw led on th e ground. Kellogg fired a t B urke from th e careening vehicle, and Burke got off several shots a t his departing foe, b u t neith er was h it. Despite such ominous portents, election day passed relatively peacefully. Major M errill reported a “quiet" election in Shreveport, where one person was killed and four or five wounded.** The Dem ocrats im m ediately claim ed victory, b u t they had learned
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through b itte r experience not to underestim ate the resourcefulness of th e ir enem ies. W hite Leaguers in northern Louisiana warned Republi cans against any attem p t to tam per w ith the retu rn s, and th e editor of th e Shreveport Tim es vowed to use "hemp” on candidates illegally counted into office.*7 J u s t as in 1872, th e election of 1874 was m arred by enorm ous irreg u larities. Both parties vividly painted th eir oppo nents in th e d ark est hues before congressional com m ittees, and there is no way to so rt o u t th e tru th s from the falsehoods. Obviously, fraud and intim idation w ere com m itted by both sides, b u t much of the testi mony, particularly th a t before th e R eturning Board, reeks of peijury. In such an environm ent, Republican leaders expected an attack on th e R eturning Board and adm itted th a t w ithout the support of Con gress and the president, th e Kellogg governm ent was doomed. G eneral Emory kept his m en a le rt to prevent th e outbreak of p artisan w arfare in New O rleans. President G rant secretly instructed G eneral Philip Sheridan to trav el quietly through M ississippi and Louisiana, and es pecially to New O rleans, and send back confidential reports on condi tions there. G rant fu rth er authorized Sheridan to take command of th e M ilitary Division of the South (or any p a rt of it) if necessary.*8 On C hristm as eve, th e R eturning Board issued its report, declaring th e Republican candidate for sta te treasu rer elected and seating fiftythree Republicans and fifty-three Dem ocrats in th e House w ith five seats to be decided after th e body convened. Staggered term s in th e Senate left a safe Republican m ajority there. Democrats denounced these decisions as subverting th e idea of free elections and posing a dangerous th re a t to republican governm ent in th e U nited States. W hite L eaguers vowed th a t the people would never subm it to such an outrage, and several country editors w arned th a t candidates counted in by th e R eturning Board could never safely tak e office.** W hen th e legislature m et on Jan u ary 4, 1875, Democrats forcibly seised control of th e House and proceeded to seat th e ir own claim ants to vacancies in th e body. On Kellogg’s request and w ith Sheridan’s “advice,” G eneral Emory sen t Colonel Regis de Trobriand to clear the House of all persons not recognized as m em bers by the R eturning Board. T hat afternoon G eneral Sheridan assum ed command of the D epartm ent of th e Gulf. “L ittle P hil” w asted no tim e in tak in g vigorous action (at least on paper) against th e anti-K ellogg forces. The irascible general wired th e secretary of w ar suggesting th a t Congress declare th e W hite Leaguers “ban d itti” so they could be tried by a m ilitary commission. Sheridan confidently reported th e settlem ent of m atters in New O rleans and th e im m inent collapse of th e W hite League. The general downplayed th reats ag ain st his life and dism issed protests against his actions as
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BUTTHERE WAS NO PEACE
not being worthy of serious consideration. According to his own esti m ate, nearly thirty-five hundred persons had been murdered in Louisi ana since 1866, and a t least twelve hundred of these had died for th eir political beliefs. Sheridan claimed, with little evidence, th a t the sub stan tial and respectable citizens of New Orleans were opposed to the W hite League.70 F ar from remedying the situation, when Sheridan’s im prudent tele gram s appeared in the newspapers, they greatly embarrassed the G rant adm inistration and unleashed a new storm ofcontroversy in Louisiana. By 1876, any suggestion of m ilitary trials for “banditti” merely handed the Democrats a new weapon to use against an already tottering presi dent. The “m ilitary invasion” of the Louisiana legislature combined w ith Sheridan’s ill-considered telegram s m arked the final collapse of the adm inistration’s Louisiana policies.71 In a clumsily mixed m eta phor, Louisiana editors compared Kellogg to Oliver Cromwell and G rant to Caesar, but th eir seeming sense of outrage m ust have been tem pered by the obvious discomfiture of the national Republican party. Nor did angry conservatives hesitate to vent th eir anger on th eir least favorite general. W ith Sheridan present a t New Orleans* V arieties theater, actor Lawrence B arrett in the role of Cardinal Richelieu spoke the line, “Take away the sword; states can be saved w ithout it,” w ith special emphasis. The audience cheered wildly; the general glowered. Guests a t the St. Louis Hotel sent abusive newspaper articles to Sheri dan’s breakfast table w ith pertinent passages underlined.7* Though some diehards denounced all talk of compromise as a pusil lanim ous surrender. Congressman W illiam A. W heeler of New York and his congressional subcommittee on Louisiana afTairs worked out a shaky settlem ent. The Democrats agreed to help m aintain law and order in the state and not to impeach Kellogg for any past misconduct. For th eir part. Republicans would allow a congressional committee to canvass the 1874 election returns and determ ine the actual composi tion of the House, a procedure th a t would ensure a Democratic major ity. Although th is agreem ent never received the hearty endorsement of either side and House Democrats later moved to impeach Kellogg, an uneasy peace had been restored. Conservative politicians in other southern states followed the struggle in Louisiana with intense interest. In th eir more apocalyptic moments, some editors saw G rant’s recognition of Kellogg as a th reat to liberty in every state in the Union. W hat Joeiah Turner labeled the “crim e of th is century” led influential Charleston editor Francis Dawson to cry out: “If th is tyranny is sustained the empire is not many years ofT." To the paranoid mind, the th reat was real even in states safely in Democratic hands; as an Augusta, Georgia, editorialist
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warned, T h e fate of Louisiana to-day may be the fete of Georgia tomoi> row. No state is longer safe from attack, and no local government secure from subversion.”73 Yet while excoriating federal policy in Louisiana, perceptive southerners recognized the fragility of "radical despotism.” The September rebellion, claimed Ethelbert Barksdale, the editorial voice of conservative Mississippians, "has taught a wronged people w hat it is possible for them to do, if they but dare; and it has taught th eir oppressors th a t they are helpless as babes in a lion’s den, unless de fended by the strong arm of the National Government.”74 When de Trobriand’s men scotched the conservative coup in January 1875, southern Democrats decried the emerging reign of the new Bom an ty ran t G rant. "Despot” was too mild an epithet for a man who was plotting to use federal troops to hold onto the presidency for life. Readers of southern newspapers m ust have seen the specter of m ilitary dictatorship appearing over the horizon.75 Many editorials of this pe riod smacked of partisan gasconade because only the naive or the igno ra n t could feil to see th a t the days of the Kellogg government were numbered no m atter which party was in power. Contemporary commentators and later historians missed the twin ironies of the situation. In no other state had the adm inistration given so much attention and assistance to the Republicans as in Louisiana, yet Kellogg was forced to board up and secure with iron stanchions the doors and windows of the statehouse, leaving only a back entrance open.76G rant’s tenacity caused the undoing of his policy. After commit ting him self to supporting the Custom House Republicans without qualification, the president made a series of decisions, seemingly un im portant a t the tim e, th a t in th eir cumulative effect destroyed public support for Reconstruction. By 1875, Louisiana had become the Repub lican party’s albatross. Even though the counterrevolution in the state had been tem porarily halted, first in Mississippi and later in South Carolina, Democrats found in the W hite League a model for successful guerrilla w arfare against Republicanism.
9. Counterrevolution Triumphant: M ississippi, 1873—1876
o one could doubt th e g allan try or courage of A delbert Ames. Badly wounded a t the first b attle of Bull Run, for which he later received th e Congressional Medal of Honor, he fought in th e Peninsula cam paign, a t Fredericksburg, a t Chancellorsville, a t G ettysburg, and a t Petersburg. By th e end of th e w ar he was a brigadier general and not yet th irty years old. Ames's m eteoric rise in th e arm y w as b u t a prelude to a storm y future. Rem aining in service after the war, he became M ississippi's provisional governor in 1868, and was elected to th e U nited S tates Senate in 1870 and to th e governorship in 1873. Besides being a Yan kee veteran and a carpetbagger, Ames labored under an additional handicap in M ississippi. A fter the w ar he had m arried Blanche B utler, th e daughter of Benjam in F. B utler. The governor's enem ies seldom hesitated to drag into political discussions his "infam ous” father-inlaw, who had a penchant for stealing silver and insulting southern womanhood. Ames w as a m an of sterlin g character, as even his b itterest foes adm itted. A native of Rockland, M aine, he brought to M ississippi a New E ngland zeal to aid the loyal men of both races and to build a strong Republican party. He took great, though to some extent conde scending, pleasure in the devotion of Negroes to th e party of Lincoln and had few doubts about his own rectitude or ability to lead th e black race into freedom’s prom ised land. Ames firmly believed th a t men such as him self would save th e benighted South: ‘T h e carpetbagger repre sents northern civilization, northern liberty and has a hold on th e h earts of the colored people th a t nothing can destroy. He is the positive elem ent of the party and if th e south is to be redeemed from the way of slavery it m ust be done by him .”1 The M ississippi scalawags, led by Governor Jam es Lusk Alcorn, did
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not sh are th is vision of th e future. B itter quarrels betw een th e carpet bag and native Republican elem ents erupted over patronage, how to suppress Ku Klux K lan violence, and the position of blacks in th e party. Alcorn and h is followers hoped to m ake th e sta te Republican party into a broad-gauged conservative coalition, b u t Ames favored w orking closely w ith black leaders to move the state in a more radical direction.2 Because of his popularity among black voters and the refus al of m any Dem ocrats to cast th eir ballots, Ames handily defeated Alcorn in th e 1873 gubernatorial election. In h is inaugural address th e new governor praised blacks for th eir peaceful adjustm ent to freedom and th eir continuing kindness toward w hites. Most blacks were Republicans, he asserted, because they wished to avoid destruction a t th e hands of the Confederate Democ racy, b u t both races had a m utual stake in th e state’s prosperity. Sensi tive to conservative charges of corruption and extravagance, Ames called for reduced expenditures, a lower state debt, and m easures to a ttra c t m anufacturing. Y et he entered some harsh strictures ag ain st plantation agriculture and argued th a t th e men who tilled th e land should own the land, which m ade him sound like an agrarian radical.2 C onservatives agreed to give th e new governor a chance to fulfill the prom ises of his inaugural address, b u t clearly th eir patience was wear ing th in . W hite M ississippians had responded to the passage of the Reconstruction acts w ith surprising m oderation, b u t th eir w illingness to cooperate w ith or even tolerate the Republicans largely depended on the ability of th e state’s newly elected officials to improve th e economy and end political and social disorder.4 D uring th e factional w rangling of Alcorn’s adm inistration, m any scalawagB left th e Republican party. By 1874 th e p arty consisted m ostly of carpetbaggers and blacks; th e color line in sta te and local politics was a fact of life. As W illiam H arris has cogently observed, th e beginning of th e Ames adm inistration unhappily coincided w ith a severe economic crisis in th e state. In th e afterm ath of the panic of 1873, planters, farm ers, and poor m en of both races could barely scratch out a living. Newspapers noted an increasing am ount of petty theft. Reports spread of black men raping w hite women, and several lynchings took place.2Conservatives found it easy to credit th e ir distress to high taxes, excessive public spending, and corruption in th e state and local governm ents.2 In V icksburg economic hardship, ram pant official corruption, and th e racial polarization of politics plagued a city long known as a roughand-tum ble riv er town w ith a well-deserved reputation for street braw ling. Vicksburg and surrounding W arren County had a popula tion w ith m ore th an twice a s m any blacks as w hites, and blacks ran both county and city governm ents. Like southern w hites elsew here.
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V icksburgers bem oaned th e effects on blacks of em ancipation and enfranchisem ent.7 Black sheriff P eter Crosby asked in A pril 1874 th a t troops be sen t to keep th e peace in th e city, b u t th e m ilitary com m ander in Jackson tu rn ed down h is request. By Ju ly black and w hite m ilitary companies w ere d rillin g in th e streets in anticipation of th e approaching m unici pal election. Crosby and th e m ayor issued a proclam ation calling on a ll arm ed m en to disperse and for citizens to aid the civil au th o rities in m aintaining order. In th e absence of Governor Ames, the black lieute n a n t governor, A. K. Davis, inform ed P resident G ran t th a t th e w hite and black m ilitias in V icksburg w ere in rebellion and had refused to retu rn sta te arm s to th e ad ju tan t general. O ther city officials w ired G rant th a t th e city was peaceful, convincing the president not to send troops. W hen Ames retu rn ed to Jackson, he, too, telegraphed G rant th a t an infantry and cavalry organization had brought artillery pieces into th e city. G ran t again declined to provide m ilitary assistance.* C onservatives claim ed Crosby had closed registration early to pre vent m ore w hites from being added to th e voting rolls. U sing th e ex cuse th a t blacks would use force to carry th e election, arm ed w hites patrolled th e city and countryside. M ilitary com panies filled th e streets on election day, leading to Republican charges of intim idation. As th e election officials were tab u latin g th e resu lt in one w ard, th e lig h ts in th e room suddenly w ent out, and someone threw th e ballots and tally sh eet out th e window. W hether enough irreg u larities oc curred to affect th e outcome is unclear, b u t th e conservative People’s p arty won th e election.* Ames blam ed th is Republican d isaster on G rant’s refusal to provide troops to protect black voters. Rashly accusing the president of hoping to receive support from southern Dem ocrats for a th ird term , Ames m ore reasonably concluded th a t a northern re tre a t from Reconstruc tio n had begun.10 H is assessm ent of th e d rift of northern sentim ent w as correct, b u t G ran t could hardly have justified federal intervention in a local election when th e sta te governm ent had tak en no action to m aintain order. Instead of relying on th e ir own resources, Davis and Ames had called for federal assistance a t th e first sign of trouble. The p arallels to Kellogg’s situ atio n in Louisiana are obvious, and conserva tives certainly recognized th e increasing powerlessness of th e sta te governm ent as well as the reaction ag ain st radicalism tak in g place in the N orth. W hite leaders became ever bolder in th eir statem ents and actions, vowing th a t th e ir patience had worn th in and th a t forcible resistance to th e public plunderers could break out a t any tim e. Ames advised Republicans to prevent racial strife and avoid violent colli sions, b u t one frightened black m an in M eridian thought th e Negroes
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“had b etter have Alcorn in power th an to be killed up like hogs and cows th e way th e cuclucks [Ku Klux] is killing our men now.”11 H eightened w hite m ilitancy produced serious complications in th e river counties of the black belt because there was alw ays the possibil ity th a t blacks would resist w hite aggression. Nervous w hites in Tu nica County in th e northw estern corner of th e state believed the longexpected w ar of th e races was about to erupt. When a w hite m an who had killed a black girl a t the county seat of A ustin was released from ja il by a w hite mob, angry, heavily arm ed blacks m arched toward the town. The w hites im m ediately threw up barricades to hold them ofT and wounded two of them . Fearing for the safety of th eir fam ilies in th e countryside, w hites left A ustin, allowing the blacks to en ter the town and ransack several stores. Armed w hites from Memphis, Tennessee, killed a black picket and took possession of the town. The blacks had scattered by th a t tim e, and no fu rth er sign of “insurrection” could be found. A fter quiet w as restored, conservatives sarcastically chided Ames for not calling for troops as he had done during the Vicksburg disorders.12 The sum m er of 1874 m arked th e beginning of th e counterrevolution in M ississippi. A t th is early stage, conservatives were by no m eans united on strategy, nor did they have an organization comparable to the Louisiana W hite League to spearhead the drive against the Ames regim e. As in m ost southern states, conservative forces began by a t tacking Republican power a t the local level. T heir success in the Vicks burg m unicipal elections exposed th e vulnerability of local Republi cans, b u t th e radicals still ran W arren County. W hite hostility to black officials w as intense, and in A ugust and Septem ber a Taxpayers’ League uncovered substantial evidence of corruption involving several black politicians. A racially mixed grand ju ry in November indicted three judicial officers for larceny, embezzlement, and forgery, but soon afterw ard a large body of im portant records relating to these cases m ysteriously disappeared from the sheriff’s office. W hites naturally suspected Sheriff Crosby had eith er hidden or destroyed these docu m ents to protect him self and his political friends. By th is tim e, how ever, th e sheriff had other w orries. A fter a lengthy exam ination of the security of Crosby’s bond and despite its insufficiency, the county board of supervisors declined to require a new one. For w hite Demo crats and some Republicans, th is action was the crowning outrage (or a convenient pretext to justify action outside legal channels).13 On December 2 th e Taxpayers’ League resolved th a t several county officials m ust resign and sent ten men to the courthouse to deliver this ultim atum . Only Crosby w as there, and he responded evasively to th eir dem and. Several hours later, five to six hundred w hites, m any of
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them drunk and aim ed, m illed around th e courthouse and crowded into th e sheriff's office. Crosby then signed a resignation but told those persons present th a t he had done so only under duress. The sheriff left Vicksburg the next day and rode to Jackson to consult w ith Governor Ames and other Republicans about w hat course to pursue.14 Ames advised Crosby to summon a posse com m itatus to disperse th e mob b u t offered little tangible assistance.14The governor issued a proc lam ation calling for all riotous persons to retu rn to th eir homes and sen t a m ilitia captain, the state's adjutant general, and one of his own aides to Vicksburg to investigate the situation and help Crosby- Local citizens informed th e governor's representatives th a t the people would no longer tolerate th e peculation of the “ring” and insisted on th e ouster of men they term ed public thieves. S treet loungers furtively discussed hanging Crosby. The sheriff meanwhile published a card in th e local Republican newspaper detailing his coerced resignation and summoning th e people in th e country (th at is, the blacks) to his defense.16 Negro preachers read Crosby's plea for assistance in church services on December 6, and some blacks gathered to help the sheriff. The governor’s representatives advised Crosby not to bring his supporters to Vicksburg, b u t he never rescinded the earlier call. Anxious whites watched eveiy move of th e city’s Negro m ilitia company and prepared to repel the invaders w ith the assistance of arm ed w hites from th e countryside, including 160 Louisianians. Although there were only seventeen m en on th e city's police force, two w hite m ilitia companies, commanded by Colonel H. H. M iller and C aptain W arren Cowan, were available for duty. W hile m any other citizens waited on the m orning of December 7 for the advancing blacks to reach the city, conservative leaders wisely p u t Crosby in ja il for his own protection. W hite patrols ordered blacks on th e street to retu rn to th eir homes or be shot. Reports came in around nine o’clock in the m orning th a t three black columns were slowly approaching Vicksburg from the east.17 Andrew Owen led the m ain force of between 120 and 500 blacks (some arm ed) moving along the Grove S treet Road. Colonel M iller and his men intercepted them on th e outskirts of town and, after a brief discussion, escorted Owen into th e city for a parley w ith Crosby. A fter the sheriff pleaded w ith Owen to disband his company, he sullenly returned to his m en, feeling betrayed by Crosby. As the Negroes began to disperse, w hites opened fire, m ounted m en pursued th e fleeing blacks, and the m ilitia wildly shot a t any black in sight. Armed w hites also attacked a group of blacks who were on the Jackson Road near th e John C. Pem berton m onum ent b u t abandoned th is position when w hite m ilitia approached. The th ird column of blacks moving toward
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th e city on the C herry S treet Road fired a t a policeman and other w hite bystanders b u t retreated when they ran into a band of arm ed whites. The governor’s aide, O. S. Lee, reported ten to twelve blacks and one w hite m an dead and probably twice th a t num ber wounded. T hat night arm ed m en ransacked black homes, ostensibly searching for weapons b u t in fact stealing money and m urdering blade men in th eir own yards. No one knows how m any died in th is unprovoked slaughter.18 Responding to the persistent rum ors of a possible lynching, Crosby resigned his office again oh December 8, and the board of supervisors had little choice but to acquiesce. He rem ained in jail until December 16, when he boarded a tra in for Jackson. Despite the obvious occupa« tio n al liabilities, several eager applicants asked Governor Ames to appoint them sheriff of Vicksburg. The governor declared th a t a rebel« lion w as in progress in W arren County and asked for federal troops to p u t down th e insurgents. So grave had the situation become th a t th e W ar D epartm ent ordered the soldiers in Jackson to protect the gover nor and th e legislature from attack, and the president issued a procla m ation on December 21 commanding all disorderly persons to disperse. W hite conservatives held an informal election of questionable legality and chose one A. J . Fiannigan as sheriff. On December 29 the board of supervisors rescinded all previous actions on Crosby's resignation be cause they had been made under th reat of force. Although federal troops arrived in Jan u ary to reinstate Croeby, his troubles were far from over. A disgruntled deputy whom the sheriff had fired shot him in th e head. He resigned in October because "peculiar circum stances” m ade it impossible for him to perform the duties of his office.1* W hen th e House of R epresentatives investigated the Vicksburg troubles. Congressman Lucius Q uintus C incinnatus Lam ar, the state’s m ost articu late conservative, directed efforts to provide the committee w ith a "proper” understanding of the outbreak. Lam ar suggested th a t w itnesses present detailed statem ents on corruption in the county gov ernm ent, on the necessity for Crosby’s resignation, and on the complic ity o f Governor Ames in the entire affair. To coincide w ith these machi n ations, several newspapers published lengthy apologias for the Vicks b urg rioters. D etailing a long train of abuses by dishonest officials in W arren County, editors attem pted to prove th a t th e citizens there had acted purely in self-defense against intolerable evils. Privately, some young firebrands regretted th a t th e w ar against the blacks had not gone fu rth er and waited to fight them again in the n ear future. Conser vativ e politicians charged th e governor w ith intentionally provoking bloodshed for the greater glory of th e Republican party, and one Vicksbu rg er bitingly suggested a new inscription for the Pem berton monu m ent: "Here surrendered the Confederate chieftain in 1863, and here
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fell 100 Dupes to th e unhallowed am bition of Adalbert Ames in 1874."20 The tem porary restoration of a Republican sheriff in W arren County resem bled on a sm aller scale G rant’s support for Kellogg after th e abortive revolt of Louisiana Democrats in Septem ber 1874. Again fed* eral soldiers had rescued a tottering Republican regime, but Missis* sippi’s Republicans m ust have recalled T alleyrand’s famous aphorism about sittin g on bayonets. Like Kellogg in New Orleans, Ames was isolated in Jackson, unable to respond to the desperate pleas for assis* tance from Republicans in th e countryside and increasingly nervous about th e prospects of a conservative coup d’etat. W hether the events in Vicksburg foreshadowed trouble in the 1875 election cam paign was uncertain because M ississippi conservatives rem ained divided on strategy, despite th eir feeling of urgency for ending Republican rule. The failure of th e Republican legislature to enact Ames’s reform program d ealt a severe blow to w hite m oderates, who had urged giving th e governor a chance to fulfill his promises. As early as 1873 conser vatives in W ashington County, located along the M ississippi River where blacks outnum bered w hites nearly six to one, had formed a taxpayers’ league to protect th eir property from w hat they considered th e ravages of Republican corm orants. By 1874 m any citizens favored refusing to pay th e “confiscatory” sta te and local taxes and clamored for a sta te taxpayers’ convention. On Jan u ary 4,1875, such a body m et in Jackson and drafted a strong appeal to the legislature. Claim ing th a t the people grew more impoverished daily while corrupt officials luxuriated in wasteful splendor, these conservatives called for drastic retrenchm ent in state governm ent by slashing public printing ex penses, legislative budgets, official salaries, and school funds. Arguing th a t it was u n fair for th e people who bore m ost of the burden to be taxed by a legislature prim arily representing nontaxpayers, they warned th a t th e failure to enact reform s would greatly increase th e strength of th e tax resistance movement.21 W hen the legislature adjourned w ithout taking action on th e griev ances listed in th e taxpayers’ petition, furious conservatives could barely find words to express th eir outrage. They accused Ames of re neging on his cam paign promises, using public patronage to build a political m achine, and foiling to veto excessive appropriations bills passed by th e legislature. The state’s black representatives and sena tors, w hite editors cried, were as bad as the carpetbaggers in opposing honest and economical governm ent and were therefore personally re sponsible for draw ing th e color line in state politics.21 The Republicans’ response to the growing m ilitancy of th eir oppo nents only fueled w hite fears. Resolving to take defensive action to
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prevent a W hite L eague-style revolution in Mississippi, Governor Ames proposed reorganizing the state's m ilitia system by establishing a state police sim ilar to th a t in Texas. Conservatives accused Ames of attem pting to goad whites to retaliatory violence, thereby providing a pretext for federal intervention. Armed black banditti, editorialists claimed, would scour the state, break into homes, and assault innocent citizens. Furtherm ore, such a force would require vast expenditures and would place alm ost unlim ited power in the hands of the governor and his black followers. H ie legislature passed a bill authorizing the governor to organize two m ilitia regim ents and to purchase four or more G atling guns and requiring any existing m ilitary companies to tu rn in th eir weapons to the quarterm aster general. W hite leaders berated Ames for appointing carpetbaggers and Negroes as officers and vowed never to pay taxes for th is purpose. Some intem perate men advocated m ustering private companies to protect the people from these state m urderers, b u t one wag suggested th a t there would be little danger because m ost of th e money appropriated would be stolen by radical officials.28 The passage of th e m ilitia act added further im petus to the move m ent for a w hite m an’s party. By 1874 leaders in several counties were pushing for local organizations to unite all w hite men in a crusade against radicalism . These "white liners” denied any hostility to the blacks b u t m aintained th a t th eir nearly total allegiance to the "radi cal” party had forced th e adoption of m easures of self-defense. For m any M ississippians, the tim e for compromise and political equivoca tion had ended—the blacks had thrown down the gauntlet, and whites were prepared to take it up.24 Such m ilitan t rhetoric underm ined m oderate efforts to promote sec tional reconciliation and greater national sympathy for the South’s plight. W hen Lam ar delivered his famous eulogy of Charles Sumner, he was more interested in vindicating the South th an extolling the virtues of th e M assachusetts radical. The M ississippian took advan tage of the public revulsion against the carpetbaggers to plead for the w ithdraw al of federal troops, pledging in retu rn th a t Democratic state governm ents would fully protect the rights of blacks. Even Lam ar’s friends wondered w hether he had made too m any concessions, and certain extrem ists found him lax in defending southern rights in Con gress. By 1875, Lam ar him self was expressing sim ilar doubts: MI think th e future of M ississippi is very dark. Ames has it dead. There can be no escape from his rule. His negro regim ents are nothing. He will get them killed up, and then G rant will take possession for him. May God help us!”22 H tis despair and gloom did not necessarily generate more support for
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th e w hite liners. C autious m en still feared such a movement could only s tir racial strife and probably would provoke federal intervention. Form er U nited S tates Senator A lbert G allatin Brown, who had been a fiery southern n atio n alist in the 1850s, w arned th a t a w hite line policy would force blacks to form sim ilar organizations. Brown stood by th e old strategy of w inning blacks’ votes by convincing them th a t southern w hites could be tru sted to safeguard th e ir newly won rights. C larion editor E thelbert B arksdale, who w as th e strongest voice ag ain st th e w hite line, favored bringing together all enem ies of corrupt governm ent regardless of race or party affiliation. Like Brown, he held out th e hope of converting blacks to th e cause of reform . In a sta te w here blacks constituted a clear m ajority of th e voting population, m ore proscriptive policies could lead to electoral d isaster as well as to bloodshed.** By the spring and sum m er of 1875 th e counselors of m oderation, though still powerful, w ere in retre at, and m any had come to blam e th e Negroes for dividing th e races in politics. W hen N ew York H erald correspondent C harles NordhofT asked a w hite lin er how he would deal w ith relu ctan t m oderates, he replied: “We’ll m ake it too dam ned hot for them to stay out."27 New trouble in V icksburg gave th is debate g reater urgency and set the tone for th e election cam paign. On Ju ly 4 two black officials. Secre tary of S tate Jam es H ill and Superintendent of Education T. W. C ar doso, arrived to speak a t a Republican m eeting. W arren Cowan, famed for his role in th e 1874 riot, h it Cardozo on th e head w ith a revolver. W hen H ill la te r addressed th e blacks a t th e courthouse, a scuffle broke out, someone shot and killed a black deputy sherifT, and th e blacks fled from th e building. M any blacks stayed away from th e m unicipal elec tion th e n ext day for fear of th eir lives or voted for th e w hite m an’s ticket.** A fter a fair am ount of jostling over th e m akeup and nam e of a new antiradical party, a group of Dem ocrats and form er W higs, old leaders and young hotspurs, assem bled in Jackson in A ugust 1875. C alling them selves th e Dem ocratic and Conservative party, the delegates lis tened to L am ar deliver a lengthy diatribe against th e Ames regim e. A fter review ing his state’s troubles, Lam ar urged the delegates to accept Negro suffrage and th e postw ar constitutional am endm ents as fixed facts and w arned th a t th e adoption of a color line platform would be a “suicidal policy.” The delegates resolved to recognize the civil and political equality of all m en and called on the state’s citizens to redeem M ississippi in th e November legislative elections. Although m oderate leaders rejoiced over th e seem ing defeat of the w hite line forces, plat form pledges are alw ays m ore easily m ade th an kept. Despite his con ciliatory address, Lam ar knew of th e intim idation and terro r being
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perpetrated by hie party, and however repulsive these bloody deeds m ay have seemed to him , he m ust have recognized th eir necessity. The excitem ent of the rallies and the organization of Democratic clubs often m ade the canvass resem ble a m ilitary campaign. Moreover, th e Dem ocrats had nom inated no blacks for public office, and m any coun try editors proclaim ed th a t the party had adopted the w hite line policy in fact if not in name. The Colum bus Democrat summed up the situa* tion well: And the w hite men of M ississippi w ill do it [win] in spite of eloquent dia tribes and sham platform s which represent nothing but a clique’s notions of expediency. In the contest on which they have entered they mean some thing more than the election of certain men to office or the elevation of Lam ar or Alcorn to the Senate. They mean the preservation of their con stitution, th eir laws, th eir institutions, their civilization from impending ruin. They mean th a t w hite men shall rule M ississippi.
Such a ringing declaration portended anything but peace.” Bourbon editors adopted th e m otto, “C arry the election peaceably if we can, forcibly if we m ust.” A t stake was not only the office of state treasu rer (the only statew ide contest) but th e more vital control of th e legislature. Rabid p artisan s spoke of using hemp during the canvass and w arned w hite Republicans th a t they would be the first to die should there be racial disturbances. The revitalized Democracy an nounced there could be no m iddle ground: each w hite m an m ust decide “yea” or “nay." The w hite liners harassed blacks who did not join Democratic clubs and support the party of “reform ,” apparently una ware of th e frightening paradox in th is appeal. H w cam paign soon took on th e atm osphere of both a cam p-meeting revival and a revolu tionary crusade, wild enthusiasm coupled w ith a determ ination to achieve victory a t all costs. Between Ju ly and October, gun dealers had difficulty keeping up w ith th e dem and for weapons; as one Republican later recalled, both races w ent about heavily arm ed: “It [Mississippi] is the g reatest place on th e face of the earth for pistols. No m an is com fortable down th ere unless he has got a pistol.” For th e w hites, th e election of 1875 became a deadly struggle for self-government, a cru sade to control th eir own destinies, and a w ar th a t could not be lost.” As Governor Ames and other Republicans soon realized, no m atter w hat th eir professions, th e “tru e sentim ent” of th eir opponents was the color line. Predicting fraud and m urder during the approaching cam paign, Ames lam ented th a t “no class of Democrats, it m atter not w hat may be th eir intelligence or position, frown upon these crim es, but on the other hand th e higher orders are th e leaders in th a t which is th e m ost wicked.” Democratic hypocrisy th u s became a mqjor Republican electioneering them e. W hile Lam ar w as preaching “peace” w ith his
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honey-tongued words, th e state's leading Republican newspaper com plained, his fellow p artisan s were using the whip, the rope, and the gun w ith abandon. Some frightened radicals thought th e governor him self would not be im m une from assassination.91 • The Republicans entered th e cam paign against a united and d eter m ined opposition w ith serious in trap arty divisions. As in th e other states, th e M ississippi Republican party contributed to its own demise through in tern al bickering. B itter factional disputes in several counties led to “bolting" and separate Republican tickets, virtually assuring vic tory for th e Democrats. The federal officeholders in M ississippi, nor m ally unsw erving party regulars, lashed out a t corruption in the Ames adm inistration. U nited S tates D istrict A ttorney G. Wiley W ells pub licly accused the governor of rem arking shortly after th e Vicksburg troubles th a t th e deaths of twenty-five or th irty Negroes would greatly help his cause. Ames gloomily observed shortly before the beginning of the canvass: “It is saddening, yet w ith ludicrous phases, to see th e strifes, envies, jealousies, and anim osities existing in our own ranks."39 The M ississippi w hite liners, following the lead of the Louisiana W hite League, began th eir assau lt on the state governm ent by attack ing Republicans a t the local level. This policy received its first te st in Yazoo County, directly northw est of Jackson. W isconsin carpetbagger A lbert T. M organ had engaged in planting, established a school for Negroes, m arried a black woman, and become a dom inant figure in Republican politics. He won election as sheriff in 1873, b u t th e Repub lican incum bent and leader of a rival faction refused to vacate the office. W hen his opponents briefly relaxed th eir guard, Morgan took possession. The other claim ant summoned a thirty-m an posse to recap tu re th e jail. M organ stepped outside to w arn them against trying to expel him , b u t they forced th eir way inside, where, in an exchange of gunfire, one of M organ’s deputies killed the form er sheriff. Democrats accused M organ of m urder and would have arrested him had it not been for the sudden appearance of belligerent blacks in Yazoo City. Several w hite m ilitary companies from Yazoo had participated in the 1874 Vicksburg rio t and undoubtedly stood ready to tak e th e field again. D uring th e sum m er of 1875, conservative newspapers, appar ently seeking a pretext to justify an attack on Morgan, printed docu m ents purporting to show th a t sixteen hundred rifles had been sen t to blacks in the county.93 Amid rum ors of a Negro insurrection, Morgan called a political m eeting for Septem ber 1 in Yazoo City and invited both parties to attend. The blacks and a few w hite Republicans filled the second floor of W ilson's H all along w ith a handful of Democrats who, perhaps by prearrangem ent, took seats in th e front row. W hites later swore th a t
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M organ had w arned th e blacks th a t a Democratic election victory would retu rn them to slavery and said they m ight have to use th eir guns during th e cam paign. M organ, however, claim ed he had alw ays advised the blacks to come unarm ed to political gatherings and to avoid conflicts w ith th e w hites. By his own account, the sheriff excori ated th e w hite liners and defended th e Republican record in Yazoo County b u t counseled the Negroes to give th e Democrats some repre sentation on th e board of supervisors. The w hites had brought along a black Dem ocrat who kept in terru p tin g M organ's speech, much to th e dissatisfaction of th e audience. On several occasions. Democrats drew th eir revolvers and threatened to shoot anyone who tried to q e ct th eir black friend from th e m eeting. W hen M organ praised the perform ance of th e board of supervisors, one of th e w hites said they were all "dam ned thieves.” A black m an took um brage a t th is outburst, and shooting broke out. L ater testim ony conflicted about who fired first. W hen M organ pleaded for peace, several Democrats leveled th eir re volvers a t him . The sheriff fired twice a t his foes and then nimbly clim bed out a re a r window. A fter a black deputy was killed in th e melee, w hites sounded an alarm , and arm ed m en roam ed through Ya zoo C ity searching for M organ.34 The sheriff holed up in his own house w hile his black friends de ceived w hites into th inking he had left th e county. On Septem ber 7 some Negroes am bushed a w hite posse n ear th e settlem ent of S atartia, southw est of Yazoo City. Fearing a general uprising, w hite companies stepped up th e ir patrols. M organ kept out of sight but sent blade cou riers to th e capital w ith m essages for the governor begging for assis tance. He left for Jackson in disguise on Septem ber 13, successfully evading pickets on th e roads. A fter w hite bands hanged several radical leaders, Republicans abandoned th e canvass, and in the November election they polled only seven votes in th e entire county.38 Close on th e heels of th e Yazoo disturbances, a riot occurred n ear th e sm all H inds County town of C linton, ju s t west of Jackson. Some two to three thousand black m en, women, and children and perhaps one hun dred w hites gathered for a political barbecue and jo in t discussion be tw een th e two parties. Some Negroes became boisterous during th e Democratic speech b u t listened w ith m arked in terest to the address of w hite Republican H iram T. Fischer. A fter Fischer had talked for about ten m inutes, a disturbance broke out in th e audience. A few young w hite men w ith a bottle of whiskey walked down a nearby hill for a drink, b u t when a black policeman told them th a t no drinking was allowed a t th e m eeting, a scuffle ensued. Black state Senator C harles Caldwell rushed to th e scene of th e disorder, but Fischer pleaded w ith his listeners to pay no attention. W hites la ter claim ed the Negroes
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began beating drum s and shouting: *1(111 the whites!” Several shots were Ared, and th e crowd scattered in all directions. The sm all group of w hites retreated , w ith the Negroes pursuing and firing a t them . T hree w hites were killed in th e fighting, including one m an who was shelter ing frightened black women and children in his home when he was shot. Blacks reportedly m utilated th e corpses and stole a diamond ring from one of th e dead m en. Four blacks died during th e rioting, and several m em bers of both races were wounded.36 As news of th e fighting spread, w hite companies from Vicksburg and surrounding counties cam e into C linton on th e train . These m en whipped and shot blacks in the countryside and killed several leading Republicans. A t least th irty blacks died during th is indiscrim inate slaughter. Refugees jam m ed th e roads leading to Jackson before a sm all detachm ent of federal troops arrived to stop th e m assacre. Fear ing th e C linton rio t would give Ames the excuse he needed to call for federal intervention, sta te Democratic chairm an Jam es Z. George cau tioned w hites to restore peace quickly. Editors mocked th e fears of the refugees in the capital, blam ing th e rio t on the Republicans. A grand ju ry investigated th e affair b u t brought in no indictm ents. Enraged w hites la ter w reaked vengeance for th eir fallen comrades by m urder ing C harles Caldwell and two other black leaders.” Both the Yazoo and C linton outbreaks, taking place so n ear to Jack son, dem onstrated th e w eakness of th e sta te governm ent and Ames's inability to safeguard his supporters during the cam paign. The gover nor, however, saw these disturbances as an opportunity to press for federal intervention. A fter issuing a proclam ation on Septem ber 7 calling for all private m ilitary companies to disband, he sen t G rant an official request for m ilitary assistance. Although G eneral C. C. A ugur in New O rleans wired his superiors in W ashington th a t he had enough men to keep th e peace, th ere were only 13 officers and 235 enlisted m en in M ississippi. T his force w as probably not sufficient to garrison th e troubled areas n ear Jackson, much less other p arts of the state controlled by th e w hite liners.38 Ames recognized th e reluctance of the northern public to support fu rth er m ilitary interference in southern elections b u t was confident G rant would resist th e appeals to political expediency. U nder pressure from northern Republican leaders, including m em bers of his own cabi net, G rant decided to tu rn down Ames's request for troops. His oftquoted rationale for doing so w as a fitting epitaph for radical southern policies: “The whole public are tired out w ith these annual autum nal outbreaks in th e South, and th e great m ajority are ready to condemn any interference on th e p a rt of th e Governm ent.” A ttorney G eneral Edwards Pierrepont lectured the governor on the necessity for ex-
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h au stín g h is own resources ra th e r th an calling for troops a t the first sign of trouble. Ames glum ly concluded th a t northern Republicans did not understand th e persistent sp irit of rebellion in the southern states.90 The governor's understandable bitterness against the G rant admin* istration did not prevent him from trying to salvage the situation. County Republican leaders had advised him to put the state m ilitia into the field ag ain st th e w hite liners and crush out Democratic terro r ism for good. The Republican party, these m en argued, m ust show its foes it could not be cowed and th a t force would be m et w ith force.40The m ere m ention of sta te m ilitia, which both parties agreed would consist m ainly of black u n its, caused Democratic editors to denounce Ames for attem pting to carry th e election by force and vow th a t the people would resist th e m ilitia. Such tru cu len t statem ents reflected the w hites' com* m anding position of power in th e countryside, where they could easily beat back any m ilitia forays. On Septem ber 2 about fifty w hite men boarded a steam er docked a t Vicksburg, seizing five boxes of state arm s. Elsew here w hites captured m ilitia weapons, finally forcing Ames to rem ove m atériel from Jackson to a nearby arm y camp for safekeeping.41 The attem pt to arm and deploy th e m ilitia was ill-fated from the outset. The legislature appropriated only $60,000 for th e purpose, and a Republican suprem e court justice enjoined th e governor from spend ing m ost of th is money. W hite Republicans were less th an whole hearted in th eir support for m ilitary m easures, fearing black compa nies would spark racial w arfare. W hile w aiting for the m ilitia to escort him back to Yazoo C ity, Sheriff M organ talked w ith several black legislators in Jackson, who shared sim ilar qualm s and naively be lieved th eir old m asters would not use violence against them . On th e other hand, ard en t radicals accused Ames of laxity in m aking m ilitary preparations, and th e governor confessed to having little faith in either th e efficiency or courage of Negro regim ents. Ames finally sen t a com pany of black m ilitiam en on a short m arch to Edwards’ Station in w estern H inds County, an insignificant operation th a t m arked th e extent of m ilitia activity during the cam paign. The Democrats howled loudly and prepared to stop th e blacks a t the Yazoo County line, but the company quietly returned to th e capital.49 W ithout ever putting a firm policy to th e test, Ames abandoned the field to the w hite liners. Like Republican governors in some other states, the M aine carpetbag ger thought th e use of black m ilitia would lead to race w ar and refused to tu rn his loyal black supporters into blood sacrifices. 1110 Dem ocrats, whose cam paign of persuasion, intim idation, and terror had already been largely successful, now proposed a "compro-
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mise" w ith Ames. The governor's advisers warned there would be bloodshed in Jackson if he did not agree to a settlem ent, and Ames's own doubts about th e effectiveness of the m ilitia and the chances for federal assistance pushed him tow ard an accommodation w ith th e op position. A fter some prelim inary discussions, and through th e good offices of Justice D epartm ent detective George K. Chase, the governor m et w ith G eneral George and several other Democrats on October 15. The two p arties signed a document in which Ames agreed to disarm th e m ilitia in retu rn for a Democratic prom ise to keep the peace for th e rem ainder of the canvass.41 P u ttin g th e best face possible on a hum iliating agreem ent w ith re bellious citizens, Ames claim ed he had conceded nothing and hoped th e other side would abide by the term s of th e settlem ent. Democratic leaders may have genuinely desired peace, and they urged th eir fol lowers to rem ain quiet, b u t m ilitary companies continued to patrol th e counties, and there was no abatem ent in voter intim idation. Ames received firsthand evidence of the value of conservative pledges when a howling mob in Jackson took potshots a t the executive m ansion for three consecutive nights and shouted for th e "coward” to come out of his hiding place. A ttorney G eneral Pierrepont notified th e governor less th an a week before th e election th a t a sm all num ber of soldiers would keep order a t the polls if necessary, but such m eager assistance m eant little to beleaguered Republicans and came far too late to deter w hite liners from carrying th e election.44 The Democrats conducted a b rillian t cam paign to mobilize th eir sup porters and dem oralize th eir enem ies by holding m ass m eetings during the day and large torchlight parades a t night. W ith bands playing, flags flying, and wagons carrying colorful transparencies satirizing promi nent Republicans and suggesting th eir destination in th e afterlife, th e conservative organizations not only aroused the enthusiasm of th eir own followers b u t gave th e blacks a powerful visual dem onstration of w hite power and determ ination. Some leaders candidly adm itted th a t the large bonfires, th e fiery oratory, the frequent rebel yells, and th e discharge of firearm s were designed to m ake Negroes stand in fear. Some of the wagons in th e parades carried em pty coffins w ith the nam es of local carpetbaggers and scalawags w ritten on them .46 Such methods m ay not have been subtle, b u t no one could doubt eith er th eir m eaning or effectiveness. Several Democratic clubs purchased cannons, which they hauled to Republican m eetings and fired off a t appropriate interludes. One arm y captain allowed w hites in Rankin County to borrow a federal cannon for a political rally, an act for which he was later court-m artialed. W ith a mock tone of innocence, w hites described how they fired off blank
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rounds to arouse th e dythram bic passions of th eir followers and even allowed interested blacks to set off th e charges. If cannons were una vailable, resourceful men placed one anvil on top of another w ith gun powder in th e crevice betw een them . W hen ignited, th is crude device m ade a trem endous noise, but such a m akeshift procedure was not w ithout its hazards. A ru ral d istrict during th e 1876 cam paign re corded a "prem ature" firing of anvils in which one m an received severe powder burns and another had a hole tom in his pants.4* W illiam H arris has argued th a t conservative leaders such as Jam es Z. George recognized th e ineffectiveness of terro r tactics and in m any counties used more traditional cam paign rallies to appeal to voters of both races.47 Given th e quasi-m ilitary character of these m eetings, how ever, m any Republicans, w ith the sound of cannon ringing in th eir ears, m ust have had difficulty distinguishing between such "peaceful” m ethods and th e more violent m eans employed by the w hite liners. Although th ere were scattered reports of economic coercion against Negro voters and some m ention of it in conservative newspapers, black-belt planters were n atu rally reluctant to risk alienating th eir labor force. D uring th e la tte r stages of the canvass, intim idation be came increasingly selective. W hite m arauders, borrowing the tactics of the Louisiana W hite Leaguers, forced Republican officials to resign. In counties w here radical candidates stood a good chance of winning, conservatives bluntly informed them th a t they would never be allowed to tak e office.49 Across th e state. Dem ocrats heckled Republican speakers, demanded jo in t discussions, and appeared a t every opposition m eeting to expose radical falsehoods. M ounted m en rode into the audience, fired cannon, cut th e heads off th e drum s used by blacks, jeered a t th e speakers, and shoved pistols ag ain st th e ir ribs or heads. Some Democrats denied Negroes had a rig h t to hold Republican m eetings, and those th a t did tak e place som etim es ended in a hail of gunfire.49 Republicans in sev eral counties had no choice b u t to support "compromise tickets” on which Dem ocrats would replace certain Republican candidates in ex change for prom ises of peace before and during the election.60 W hite liners in th e river counties and other black-belt areas fired into th e homes of black and w hite radicals a t night. Frightened Republicans charged th a t Democratic clubs were receiving large weapons shipm ents and disarm ing blacks. Prom inent leaders received th reats against th eir lives and hid in th e woods and swamps. By Reconstruction standards, there apparently were few casualties, b u t assassination attem pts against local party figures were not uncommon.61 Along th e eastern border of M ississippi from Aberdeen to M eridian, Alabam a night riders joined in raid s to force Republicans to abandon th e canvass and leave
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th eir h o m es" Disingenuous Democrats blam ed any reported disturb ances on radical agitators who encouraged blacks to come arm ed to political m eetings. The real intim idation, according to conservatives, was perpetrated by Republicans against black D em ocrats." A fter the Yazoo and C linton riots, no large outbreaks of violence occurred. In th e southw estern county of Pike, arm ed “regulators,” who had driven Republican officeholders out of W est Feliciana Parish, Louisiana, moved into M ississippi to am bush and assassinate Republi cans. A t th e sm all settlem ent of Rose H ill n ear the state line, an estim ated five hundred arm ed w hites broke up a Republican m eeting and killed two blacks. The terrorism evidently continued until election d ay ." A t the northern end of th e sta te in Coahoma County along the Mis sissippi River, Sheriff John Brown, a black carpetbagger, ran afoul of the Alcorn fam ily and other scalawags. In October, Jam es Lusk Alcorn delivered a blistering speech accusing Brown of pocketing public money. Several days later, the sheriff called a m eeting a t the county seat of F riar's Point to answ er Alcorn’s charges. W hites organized a m ilitia company to protect them selves against country Negroes who were m arching tow ard town. W hen the two forces clashed on th e out skirts, one w hite and two blacks were killed. Brown and other radicals fled to H elena, A rkansas, hastily w iring Governor Ames about th e reign of terro r in Coahoma. These disturbances deterred m any voters of both p arties from casting th eir ballots, and the Democrats carried the county." Election day w as relatively quiet, b u t the effects of the "M ississippi plan” were everywhere. Democrats in Aberdeen placed an old cannon on a h ill ominously aim ed tow ard the polls. W hite infantry, artillery, and cavalry companies allowed only those blacks with Democratic tickets to vote, forcing others to run for th eir lives. A t Port Gibson in the southern p a rt of th e black belt, m ounted men drove Negro voters out of town. Dem ocrats in Am ite County seized two ballot boxes and dumped th eir contents on the ground. T hat night drunken Louisian ians chased terrified Republicans through the woods." M ilitary companies in several counties threatened to hang anyone who tried to distribute Republican ballots, and m any party workers had difficulty delivering tickets to all th eir assigned precincts. Yazoo County Democrats warmly greeted a m an carrying Republican ballots and plied him w ith whiskey, thus preventing him from perform ing his original task .67 W hen arm ed w hites stampeded Republicans who tried to vote, m any blacks decided it was not worth sacrificing th eir lives to cast th eir ballots. W ith Democrats giving the "rebel yell” and crowding th e polls, the election of 1875 became a mockery of the democratic
Counterrevolution Trium phant
161
process. Angry mobs jostled election supervisors and forced them to sign false returns. If th e Republicans seemed to be winning a t a p ar ticu lar poll. Democrats stole the ballot box.68 The resu lts reflected th e effectiveness of these tactics. The Democrats turned the 1873 Republican m ajority of tw enty-three thousand into a m argin of th irty thousand for them selves, gained lopsided control of both houses in the legislature, elected a state treasurer, and carried four of six congressional districts. W hen Republicans exam ined the county retu rn s, they could see all too clearly the m anner of th eir downfall. Large m ajorities had vanished through intim idation, fraud, and b latan t terrorism . Y et as H arris has shown in his careful analysis, the Demo crats not only reduced th e Republican vote but spectacularly increased th eir own to tals by fully mobilizing the w hite electorate.68 Some conservatives im m ediately called for th eir party to carry out its pledges to the Negroes,60 b u t Republicans of both races soon freed severe reprisals in the afterm ath of the Democratic tidal wave. Dis heartened and terrified Republican officeholders gave up the fight and left th e state. In Issaquena County, one of th e few carried by the Re publicans, n ig h t riders in December 1875 drove newly elected officials away a t gunpoint. A federal grand ju ry a t Oxford received voluminous testim ony of violence and intim idation before and during the election, but after receiving th reats against th eir own lives, the jurors brought in no indictm ents.81 W ith letters from demoralized, b itter, and frightened Republicans pouring into his office daily, Ames used his annual message to the legislature to deliver a ringing condemnation of Democratic violence and to assert th a t th e rig h t to vote had become a nullity in M ississippi. Justice D epartm ent officers in th e state readily corroborated the gov ernor's statem ents. Conservatives issued the expected denials and kept up a steady editorial barrage against Ames.82 Indeed, long before th e election, Democratic leaders recognized th a t control of th e legislature would m ean th e opportunity to impeach and remove the governor from office. A fter the house in M arch 1876 voted articles of impeachm ent against him , Ames resigned and left M ississippi, never to return.88 He lived quietly in M assachusetts and later moved to Florida, where he died in 1933. W ith such a long tim e to m ull over his experiences, Ames's once buoyant optimism gave way to sour regrets. He told histo rian Jam es W. G arner th a t he had arrived in M ississippi w ith a sense of “Mission w ith a large M,” convinced he could guide the blacks to w ard freedom’s golden shore while pacifying a still rebellious south land. These efforts, he sadly adm itted, had been foredoomed because “a t all tim es and places the inferior race m ust succumb to the superior race even though th e la tte r be backed by such a power as the United
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BUT THERE WAS NO PEACE
S tates.”64 T his carpetbagger’s capitulation to racism and his confession of failure not only reflect th e disillusionm ent of an old m an but also a realization of th e tru e dim ensions of his task. He had done his best, and he shared th e onus of defeat w ith m any lesser men. The sw irling tide of reaction had sw ept away his dream s ju s t as it had carried his enem ies into power. The M ississippi Dem ocrats had conducted a classical counterrevolu tionary crusade, th e ir tactics paralleling those of earlier cam paigns in A labam a and Louisiana. Beginning w ith new spaper invective and tax payer protests, conservatives th en turned to th e w hite line organiza tions, which soon became th e m ilitary arm of th e Democratic party. W hile publicly professing peaceful intentions. Democrats selectively used arm ed intim idation to destroy the Republican party in th e counties by keeping black voters aw ay from the polls or forcing them to vote Democratic. Emboldened by th e knowledge th a t th e national Re publican leadership no longer had much stom ach for m ilitary interven tion in th e South,66 angry w hites engaged in terro rist activities w ith seem ing im punity. The “redem ption” of M ississippi pointed up th e domino effect of th e counterrevolution. By 1876, South C arolina, Loui siana, and Florida were th e only Republican dominoes left standing, and each of these had begun to to tte r noticeably.
10.1876: The Triumph
dence, opened, th e question of southern Reconstruction had receded in im portance in national politics b u t lingered like a drunkard’s hang* over after a week-long binge. Public atten tio n turned to celebrating the nation’s one hundredth birthday and electing a new president. N orthern editors and stum p speakers would still wave th e now ta t tered bloody sh irt during th e fall election cam paign, but th eir h earts were no longer in it. Governor Kellogg in Louisiana held onto his office but exerted little au th o rity outside New O rleans. Endemic factional ism am ong Florida Republicans m ade a Democratic trium ph in th a t sta te only a m atter of tim e. In South C arolina th ere w as a reasonably strong Republican regim e, b u t conservative opposition w as growing bolder, stronger, and m ore violent. The Republicans in th e Palm etto S tate were ripe for a fall. C orruption had become a byword in sta te politics; carpetbaggers and scalaw ags, w hites and blacks, radicals and conservatives, Republicans and Demo crats had shared in th e rew ards of public plunder. All factions of th e Republican p arty conceded th e need for changes in both sta te and local governm ents and sought to outdo each other in standing foursquare for reform .1 W hen th e “reg u lar” Republicans nom inated M assachusetts carpetbagger D aniel H. C ham berlain for governor in 1874, the pros pects for routing th e corruptionists seemed rem ote. C ham berlain had been attorney general during Governor Robert Scott’s notorious adm in istratio n , and m ost observers saw his election as a continuation of business as usual. Yet in his inaugural address th e new governor called for economy and honesty in th e adm inistration of the sta te governm ent, a fairer assessm ent of taxable property, and an end to the scandalously inflated public p rin tin g contracts. C ham berlain’s evenhanded patron age policy, w hich included th e appointm ent of w hite conservatives to
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BUT THERE WAS NO PEACE
m any offices, deeply offended members of his own party. Robert Brown E lliott, black form er congressman and then Speaker of the House of R epresentatives, spearheaded the opposition to Cham berlain. E lliott probably resented the governor's w rapping him self in the m antle of reform and certainly feared, w ith good reason, th a t Cham berlain m ight form an alliance w ith w hite conservatives, leaving blacks iso lated and powerless. C ham berlain never established a working rela tionship w ith black leaders, who found him aloof and patronizing, and his frequent vetoes of bills passed by the legislature antagonized party stalw arts. This deadlock between the Republican m ajority in the legis latu re and the governor not only stym ied Cham berlain’s program but fu rth er divided th e party a t both the state and local levels, a t last giving conservative w hites a realistic hope of ending Republican dom ination* As in other states, th e conservative opposition to the Republican regim e w as united on goals b u t deeply divided on m eans. Some moder ates, led by the influential editor of the Charleston News and Courier, Francis W. Dawson, were skeptical about reviving the state Demo cratic party, which had been disbanded since 1868, and favored an alliance of convenience w ith Cham berlain. W hite county leaders, how ever, had little faith in th e governor’s reform promises and could hardly conceive cooperating w ith a carpetbagger. This straight-out elem ent was particularly strong in Edgefield County in th e m idlands region of th e state. There form er Confederate General M artin W ither spoon G ary led a group of violent fanatics who would brook no conces sions to radicalism . So adam ant was G ary in his opposition to any m ilk-and-w ater ticket th a t he came close to fighting a duel w ith Dawson over th e issue.3 These questions of cam paign strategy could not by them selves have generated such furious passions; a t the bottom of the disputes lay the volcanic race question. Most w hite South C arolinians denounced the Republican sta te governm ent as rule by ignorant Negroes, b u t they had to deal w ith the reality of a black electoral m ajority. P aternalists, such as Dawson, favored bringing th e two races together in a common fight against radicalism . M aking the hope father to the thought, opti m istic newspaper editors reported th a t more and more Negroes were w aking up to th eir tru e interests and seeing Republican leaders as th e knaves they were. All these statem ents about racial political harm ony held one im portant caveat: earlier attem pts a t biracial coalitions had all failed. W hite patience, Dawson warned, was growing thin, and South C arolina would be redeemed “w hatever the m eans or cost.“*The most rabid advocate of a color line policy could not have said it better. In the hothouse political atm osphere of the Cham berlain years, sev-
1876: The Trium ph of Reaction
165
eral racial disturbances occurred th a t fu rther underm ined th e influ ence of w hite m oderates. W hether these outbreaks were instigated by extrem ists to discredit Dawson and other accommodationists is un clear. Each incident grew out of local problems, but straight-out Demo crats seized on these disorders to dem onstrate th e futility of compro m ise w ith Republicanism . W hen a Negro m ilitia company began drilling in Ridge Spring, near A ugusta, Georgia, in 1874, panicky w hites expected a bloody uprising. Armed and m ounted m en scoured th e countryside searching for in su r rectionary Negroes. No fighting took place, but th e Republican sheriff fled for his life as w hites raised the usual clam or about an impending race war.* Such exaggerated reports may have served some unstated political purpose, and they certainly fit well the conservative notion th a t Republicans were desperate to supply fresh outrages for th eir northern political allies. Edgefield County, or "bloody Edgefield” as it was often called, had a long and well-deserved reputation for violence.6 The county has pro duced not only successful cotton planters but also a rem arkable group of exceptionally volatile politicians from Preston Brooks to Strom Thurmond. A hotbed of secession sentim ent before th e war, during Reconstruction Edgefield became a center of Ku Klux K lan activity and a bastion of straight-out Democracy. Ned T ennant, a black m ilitia captain, exemplified the characteris tics Edgefield w hites feared m ost in a Negro leader—ability and asser tiveness. A fter T ennant paraded his men on Ju ly 4,1874, angry young w hite m en em ptied th eir pistols into his house. A group of arm ed Negroes were eager to retaliate, b u t cooler heads among both races kept th e peace. W hen a sim ilar disturbance took place in September, w hite m ilitary companies, commanded by form er Confederate General M atthew C albraith B utler and form er Confederate Colonel Andrew P. B utler, surrounded about eighty blacks n ear a plantation. The tim ely arriv al of U nited S tates troops prevented a serious clash, and after a parley, both sides agreed to disband. Shortly before th e 1874 state election, in a th in ly veiled attem pt to intim idate Negro voters, Gary advised planters to reduce th e ir labor force by one-third, and there after m any blacks could not find em ploym ent A citizens* m eeting in December resolved to lynch any person caught setting fire to a house, gin house, or cotton gin and blam ed Republican officials for not pre venting acts of arson. The following m onth M atthew B utler's residence burned to th e ground, and suspicion im m ediately fell on Tennant’s m ilitiam en. D uring a b rief exchange of gunfire w ith a w hite posse sent out to arrest th e suspects, two blacks died. Finally, Governor Cham berlain ordered all state arm s returned to Columbia and all private
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BUT THERE WAS NO PEACE
companies in Edgefield to disband. B ut when one of the governor's aides tried to take possession of these weapons, he found local whites had already seized some of them . U nsubstantiated reports of Negroes arm ing and drilling circulated for the rem ainder of the year.7 Racial violence in Edgefield and surrounding counties continued during the 1876 election year. Unknown parties assassinated former m ilitia officer Joe Crews, long suspected of having an incendiary influ* ence among Negroes. Alarmed whites reported an epidemic of burned gin houses, robberies of local stores, and several m urders of “respect* able” citizens. When an old m an and his wife were killed in May, the Edgefield sheriff arrested six black men, but a band of whites hauled the suspects from the jail and shot them all to death. Even those eon* servatives who opposed lynch law justified its use in th is case because they claimed local authorities would never have brought the guilty parties to tria l* Much of th is violence arose from long-festering eco nomic, social, and racial grievances and in th a t way more closely re sembles the disorders of early Reconstruction than post-1867 political disturbances. B ut alm ost all these incidents, no m atter w hat th eir origins, would have political overtones in an election year. Even before the 1876 campaign had gotten under way, a bloody rio t occurred in Aiken County along the Georgia border. W hat began as a purely local afTair quickly mushroomed into a massacre with national political repercussions. Hamburg was a sm all village on the Savannah River opposite Augusta. Once an im portant transport center for upcountry cotton on its way to Charleston, after the w ar Hamburg be came a somnolent community of only five hundred inhabitants, mostly Negroes. W hites deeply distrusted the village’s black officials and in the spring of 1876 had suggested th a t several black politicians leave before the election. The racial disorders in nearby Edgefield made both races nervous, particularly after a black man named Doc Adams or ganized a m ilitia company. Conservatives immediately charged th a t th is body would intim idate Democrats and massacre innocent citizens. As Beqjamin R. Tillm an later recalled, the white m ilitary companies waited for an incident to give them an excuse to teach the Negroes a lesson w ritten in blood.* On Ju ly 4, Adams marched his company of about eighty blacks along a quiet Hamburg street. Two young whites, Henry Getzen and T. J . Butler, had driven th eir buggy into town, watched the drill for a short tim e, and then asked Adams to move his troops to one side so they could pass. Adams pointed to a wide path on either side of his columns and, according to the testim ony of Getzen and Butler, cursed them and refused to move. The seriousness of w hat most white southerners con sidered a breach of racial etiquette became clear as the two w hites
1876: H ie Trium ph of Reaction
167
angrily vowed to stay in th eir usual wagon ru t and not be turned aside by any "damned niggers.” W hen a rain suddenly came up, th e blacks left the street, allowing Getzen and B utler to go on th eir way. A fter a com plaint was m ade by young B utler's father, Robert J . B utler, a black local justice nam ed Prince Rivers issued arrest w arrants against Adams and th e other m ilitia officers on charges of blocking a public thoroughfare. W hen Adams swore a t Rivers during a court appearance on Ju ly 6, he w as declared in contem pt of court and the proceedings were postponed for two days.10 The B utler fam ily retained M atthew C. B utler of Edgefield (no rela tion) as its attorney. B utler and two to three hundred arm ed w hites rode into H am burg on Ju ly 8 for th e tria l. B utler demanded th a t th e m ilitia surrender its arm s and probably threatened to burn th e town (a reversal of th e usual p attern in these rad a! conflicts). A pparently sensing th a t Adams would never give up th e weapons, he nevertheless demanded th a t th e m ilitia captain personally apologize to his clients. Because arm ed m en were m illing about in the streets, Adams did not appear in the courtroom b u t cautiously sought a parley w ith B utler. They could not agree on a m eeting place because both sides feared an ambush. Determ ined to disarm the m ilitia a t all hazards, B utler dropped all pretense of seeking legal satisfaction. W ith the w hite mob growing m ore belligerent, Adams and thirty-eight of his men took refuge in a brick building used as an arm ory. Shooting suddenly erupted. A black m ilitiam an killed a young w hite m an near the rail road bridge, and enraged w hites hauled over a cannon from A ugusta and fired four rounds into th e black stronghold. Fearing th e attackers m ight blow up the building, Adams ordered his men to escape out the back. The w hites pursued the fleeing blacks, took some prisoners, and ransacked th e homes of several Negroes and one w hite Republican. The mob m urdered th e black town m arshal and killed a t least one other Negro, b u t th e bloodshed was not yet over.11 H aving captured perhaps twenty-five blacks, B utler ordered his men to escort them to th e Aiken jail. Tillm an’s company disapproved of such lenient treatm en t for Negro incendiaries and executed five of th e prisoners, reportedly m utilating the bodies. Although B utler denied approving the m erciless slaughter, he shared the ultim ate responsibil ity for tu rn in g a m inor traffic accident into a bloody riot.1’ Dawson joined other conservative editors in roundly condemning the Ham burg m assacre, particularly the killing of th e black prisoners. Several newspapers sharply criticized B utler for attem pting to disarm the blacks in the first place and especially for allowing his men to behave like savages. Even these editorialists, however, argued th a t such incidents arose inevitably from the evils of Republican ru le.1’
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BUTTHERE WAS NO PEACE
Black leaders responded to conservative evasiveness by holding a large indignation m eeting in C harleston a t which they detailed th eir long history of suffering a t the hands of th e "sem i-barbarous w hites" and accused B utler and his men of com m itting prem editated m urder. Not* ing th a t th ere were eighty thousand black men in the state who could carry W inchester rifles and two hundred thousand black women who could use torches and knives, the speakers warned of a Democratic conspiracy to carry the approaching election by force. The m eeting endorsed a ringing appeal to the "people of the U nited S tates” w ritten by Robert Brown E lliott, which defended the rig h t of black m ilitiam en to carry arm s and demanded protection from the sta te governm ent.14 The blacks had reason to wonder if Ham burg was only the beginning of a terro r cam paign against Negroes and Republicans. The sheriff of Aiken County reported th a t arm ed bands were seizing black property and arm s. W hite cavalry companies patrolled th e countryside and som etim es rode through H am burg.14 Governor C ham berlain sen t President G rant a detailed account of the riot, interpreting it as p a rt of a larger plot, already p artially sue* cessful in Louisiana and victorious in M ississippi, to overthrow Repub* lican sta te governm ents through intim idation and violence. Chamber» lain asked for m ore troops and joined U nited States M arshal Robert M. W allace in suggesting th a t soldiers be placed in th e counties near H am burg. G rant was shocked a t the sickening details of th e slaughter and, overcoming his reluctance to use m ilitary power in the southern states, ordered several companies of troops to Edgefield, Laurens, and Barnw ell counties.19 Angry conservatives uttered th eir usual maledic tions against th e "m ailed fist" while portraying them selves as the m ost peaceful people in th e world. Such protests rang hollowly because South C arolina Democrats were experienced politicians, who by th is tim e recognized th e uselessness of soldiers in propping up Republican regim es. W hen th e troops arrived a t Edgefield Courthouse, cheering w hites lined th e streets to greet them . Some of th e men were em bar rassed, b u t others grinned.17 In th e afterm ath of th e H am burg affair, desperate Republicans at* tem pted to suppress w hat they saw as the beginnings of a terro r cam* paign. A grand ju ry indicted sixty m en, whom conservatives described as some of the state’s "best citizens," b u t th e prisoners openly boosted th a t they would never be brought to tria l. U nited S tates A ttorney David Corbin adm itted th a t arm ed w hites would probably intim idate w itnesses and m ake th e outcome problem atical. Tillm an’s men donned th eir red sh irts, th e new badge of uncompromising resistance to radi calism , b u t quietly surrendered to state officials. S tate Attorney Gen eral W illiam Stone ordered a continuance of the cases u n til after the
1876: The Trium ph of Reaction
169
election so passions could cool.19 By th a t tim e, disputes over th e elec tion of 1876 forced Stone to drop th e prosecution. The H am burg riot d ealt a fatal blow to the cooperation movement for both C ham berlain and his conservative friends. W ith the Edgefield fireeaters leading th e way, th e upcountiy was ablaze for uncompromis ing Democracy, w hile th e lowcountry rem ained quietly m oderate. The votes taken a t th e state Democratic convention, which m et in Colum bia from A ugust 15-17, stark ly revealed th is sectional division. A fter a five-and-a-half-hour secret debate on th e final day, the delegates agreed to select th eir own slate of candidates for sta te offices. G eneral B utler and his allies pulled a coup before the convention by convincing Wade Ham pton to accept the nom ination for governor. The choice of th e popular and m oderate form er Confederate general soothed the feel ings of th e losers and ended the debate over strategy.19 For the public record, the South C arolina Democracy committed itself to conducting a conciliatory and peaceful campaign. Its platform recog nized the perm anency of the postw ar constitutional am endm ents and summoned all citizens regardless of color to join th e cause of reform. Several planks lam basted the Republicans for corruption, exorbitant taxation, and inciting racial w arfare, b u t the party eschewed th e use of violence during th e canvass. Ham pton seemed the embodiment of rea sonableness. Though a speaker of ordinary ability, he effectively ad dressed racially mixed audiences by denouncing political intim idation and em phasizing his long friendship for the Negro race. In particular, he pledged as governor to guarantee blacks im partial justice, to support free schools, and to protect Negroes in all th eir legitim ate rights. Hamp ton advised the violent m en of his own race not to vote for him and urged his supporters to m aintain order during th e cam paign. H ie Republicans rem ained justifiably skeptical, and the party’s leading newspaper cut to the h e art of th e issue: M eanwhile, G eneral Hampton m ay be all th a t his friends claim him to be, but he is the representative of the hot heads and reckless hearts which dictated his nomination. The leading characteristics of the campaign thus for developed are those of the tiger policy in Edgefield. The Tillm ans, the B utlers, th e Garys, th e (Jam es N.l Lipscombs, are the ones to whom he would owe his election, and to them he m ust needs bow in shaping his policy. He subm its to th e ir dictation now, and the habit would have to be continued.
There is no evidence th a t Ham pton ever tried to control the forcee of violence; though no puppet of th e wild m en, he lacked both th e will and the power to stop the bloodletting.” Dem ocrats exaggerated th e num ber of voluntary black “conversions” and accused radical Negroes of persecuting th eir conservative brethren. Local Democratic clubs w ith great fanfare sought legal redress for th eir
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BUT THERE WAS NO PEACE
injured black friends.*1Although the conservatives offered blacks little besides soothing words, they bemoaned th eir lack of success and raised continual alarm s about arm ed Negroes. In August a box labeled “agri cultural im plem ents’*arrived in Newberry, northeast of Edgefield. The chief of police opened it, found sixteen Remington rifles inside, and arrested th e Negro to whom the box had been sent. Because of slipshod adm inistration in the m ilitia, many state arm s had fallen into the hands of unauthorized persons, and Cham berlain tried to retrieve these weap ons, b u t in Edgefield arm ed men broke into the jail and seized more th an one hundred rifles. Frightened w hites claimed th a t turbulent blacks were threatening the lives of peaceful citizens and following the advice of Republican speakers to engage in arson against the planters.** This widening paranoia gave w hite m ilitary companies an all too convenient excuse for th eir own excesses. Democratic tales of intim idation were overblown but not w ithout foundation; lowcountry Republicans effectively employed some of th e sam e m ethods as th eir opponents. On Septem ber 6 Charleston Demo crats held a political m eeting, which was addressed by some Democratic Negroes. U nruly black Republicans gathered outside the hall, reviling th e turncoats and brandishing heavy sticks. W hen the Democrats tried to escort th eir black allies home, the mob attacked them , killing one w hite m an and inflicting head wounds on several others. For the next two days, rifle clubs guarded all Democratic m eetings, but some blacks hurled brickbats a t w hites and assaulted lone pedestrians.** Sim ilar conditions prevailed in neighboring plantation areas. A steam er left Charleston on th e m orning of October 16 w ith about two hundred passengers aboard, mostly Democrats, for a jo in t political discussion a t th e sm all town of Cainhoy, about tw enty m iles to the northeast. Both parties came to the m eeting arm ed, and fighting soon broke out. W hites and blacks grabbed th eir guns, but the num erically superior Negroes chased frightened Democrats back to th eir boat. One black m an and a t least six w hites died in the riot. For once conserva tive editors were right: blacks had been the aggressors a t Cainhoy. Troops arrived in tim e to prevent a w hite counterattack, b u t blade violence continued through election day.*4 Labor trouble in the rice fields added to lowcountry turm oil. In May 1876 black rice workers struck for higher pay. P lanters complained th a t lower rice prices forced them to cut wages and th a t unscrupulous w hite storekeepers were stirrin g up discontent among the field hands. In the la tte r p a rt of A ugust, Negroes along the Combahee River demanded a 50 percent wage increase, refused to accept checks th a t could be re deemed only a t planters’stores, and drove blacks who were still working from th e fields. W hen a sh eriffs posse arrested the ringleaders, a mob of
1876: H ie Trium ph of Reaction
17X
th ree hundred Negroes overpowered them and released the prisoners. Congressm an Robert Sm alls and L ieutenant Governor R. H. Gleaves, both black, calmed th e angry strik ers and convinced them to allow ten of th eir num ber to be taken into custody. The charges against these m en were eventually dropped, b u t m any blacks still stayed away from th e fields. Angry planters w arned the governor th a t disastrous crop losses would resu lt if these disruptions continued and asked for the arrest and punishm ent of th e m alcontents who abused and whipped Negroes work ing quietly a t th eir tasks. Evidently, the planters finally agreed to a compromise to save p a rt of th eir crop, but sporadic disturbances broke out through Septem ber.25 The incidence of black-initiated violence was higher in the South C arolina lowcountry th an in any other p a rt of the South. The area had been tu rb u len t since th e beginning of Reconstruction, when outraged blacks protested vigorously and sometimes violently against th e fed eral governm ent's retu rn of confiscated land to w hite landowners. Ne groes working for low wages in the disease-infested swam plands found th eir situation in life little improved from the days of slavery, and th e rice w orkers' strik e was only the m ost noticeable sign of th is discon ten t. Many blacks recognized th eir stake in the election cam paign and understandably feared the retu rn of th e old planter class to power; Negro political leaders n atu rally felt threatened not only by Demo crats b u t by conservative Republicans, who seemed ready to sell out th eir black supporters. Perhaps tearing a leaf from the book of the Edgefield Democracy, some blacks in the lowlands used intim idation to frighten th eir opponents and assure racial solidarity on election day. W hatever th e extent of “radical” violence, South Carolina Demo crats were hardly innocent victim s. G eneral G ary had followed th e progress of th e 1875 cam paign in M ississippi w ith growing interest and used it as a model for w hat became known as the “shotgun policy." This plan called for the Democrats to form clubs and m ilitary compa nies, which would atten d every Republican m eeting to denounce th e speakers and im press th e Negroes. The voters who could not be won w ith persuasion would be won by fear. Every opposition leader would know th a t any disturbance would cost him his life, and Gary called for th e assassination of particularly obnoxious Republicans. Although the party officially repudiated th is program of terrorism , county Demo cratic clubs adopted m any of Gary’s recommendations. W hites openly threatened to m urder Republican leaders and scoffed a t the prospect of federal intervention.25 The crusade against radicalism generated enormous popular enthu siasm across th e state. Ham pton addressed large audiences of wildly cheering w hites, m any w earing red shirts. Democrats held grand
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torchlight processions, brightly illum inating the night w ith th eir fer vor for "reform.” Women and children prepared bunting and other decorations for the eagerly anticipated "Hampton day,” when the gen eral would speak in th eir community. Brass bands played, m ilitary units fired cannon, and Negro Democrats marched. Excited boys p ar aded about in red shirts; voices old and young sang the favorite refrain of the canvass: "W ell hang Dan Cham berlain on a sour apple tree.” In South Carolina history the daring deeds of 1876 took on a legendary quality th a t for some eclipsed the heroism of the Civil War; to have ridden w ith Hampton and the red shirts became the proudest boast of many citizens.17 Beneath the oratory and pageantry lay the harsher reality of the Mississippi plan. There were, of course, the usual reports of economic intim idation. Even th e N ew t and Courier defended the right of em ployers to exercise political preference in hiring laborers and sug gested special consideration for black Hampton supporters.“ Another key elem ent of the Edgefield policy was ^joint political discussions.” Democrats insisted th a t Republicans "divide the tim e” with conserva tive speakers. Red sh irts claimed they attended these m eetings to protect black Democrats from the w rath of desperate radicals, but the evidence suggests otherwise. In many instances, a Republican refusal to share the platform served as a convenient excuse for armed men to assault the spectators. M ilitary companies surrounded the meetings, cursed the Republican speakers, and sometimes threatened th eir lives.“ U nlike M ississippi or Louisiana, where Republican cam paigners dared not venture out into the countryside, in South Carolina the party conducted a vigorous, albeit abbreviated, canvass. Governor Chamber lain and other leaders stum ped the state in August, September, and October, coming face to face w ith the white fuiy. When Cham berlain addressed a Republican ratification m eeting in Edgefield, B utler and Gary stationed red shirts across the parade route, yelling a t the top of th eir lungs and waving pistols in the air. Gary warned Republicans either to listen to the conservatives or cancel the gathering. As the governor spoke, w hites hooted, jeered, and questioned his paternity. Gary and B utler then harangued the crowd a t length on the evils of the Republican adm inistration, and several rowdies suggested executing Cham berlain on the spot. In Barnwell County the son of W illiam Gil* more Simms blasted the governor as a "carrion coward, a buzzard and a Puritanical seedy adventurer who came down here to steal our sub stance.” Toward the end of the campaign, armed whites followed Re publicans from town to town, heckling speakers and sometimes beat ing and killing blacks. Some county Republican leaders could not hold more th an one rally during the entire canvass.“
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H ie m ost effective agency of intim idation and terror ism was the rifle and sabre dubs, first organized daring th e 1874 m ilitia turm oil and reactivated for th e 1876 cam paign. Cham berlain's private secretary found 290 such groups in th e state w ith a membership of 14,350, a form idable private arm y. Francis B utler Sim kins estim ated from these figures th a t a m ajority of th e w hite m ale population able to ride was under arm s. M any companies carried weapons seized from th e m ilitia, and some had cannon. Members m aintained th a t the rifle d u b s were purely defensive organizations formed to quell black insurrections, but m ounted m en roam ed the countryside, cajoling, threatening, and occa sionally m urdering Republicans. This night riding created panic among both w hite and black radicals, who feared th e red sh irts m ight storm th e polls on election day or even attack U nited States troops.*1 Nowhere were these squads more active th an in Edgefield and Aiken counties, the centers of anti-Republican fanaticism . As early as June, w hite extrem ists had vowed to win th e election or kill all Republicans. On Septem ber 15 near Silverton in Aiken County, two black men entered th e home of Alonzo H arley, h it his wife and young son over the head w ith sticks, but fled when Mrs. H arley grabbed a gun. Taking off in pursuit, w hite horsem en caught P eter W illiams and hauled him bade to the scene of th e crim e. A fter Mrs. H arley identified W illiams as one of th e assailants, his captors shot him to death. They obtained an arrest w arran t for d ie other suspect, Frederick Pepe, and began to search for him . Republicans la te r charged th a t W illiam s had been dragged out of a sickbed and was innocent of the assault charges." W hatever the tru th , th is m inor incident was enough to send the rifle d u b s into action. W ith arm ed w hites on th e m arch, Negroes gathered a t a church the next day to discuss a plan for defense. Reports quickly spread th a t black incendiaries were plotting to burn gin houses and m urder innocent citizens. Men from Aiken and Edgefield, led by Andrew P. B utler, broke up a Republican m eeting on September 16 and by th e next m orning had surrounded a large body of blacks in a swamp. B utler’s officers m et several Negroes who refused to hand over Pope to th e enraged w hites. A fter a brief discussion on th is point, th e parties agreed to disperse peacefully. As both sides departed, other blacks am bushed one of the w hite companies, and the rifle d u b s galloped through th e countryside shooting blacks in the cotton fields. Some red sh irts forced terrified Negroes to fall on th eir knees and prom ise to vote Dem ocratic." On Septem ber 20 the fighting spread to nearby Ellenton, a depot on the P ort Royal railroad. Red sh irts poured into Aiken to join the bottle, but some blacks derailed th eir tra in near the station. H ie infuriated w hites then m urdered several Negroes, induding state legislator Si-
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mon Coker, whom T illm an's m en shot as he prayed for mercy. M ilitary com panies again besieged Negroes in a swamp, but a detachm ent of federal troops arrived in tim e to prevent an alm ost certain m assacre. One belligerent w hite rem arked to an arm y officer th a t he would have given $500 to have had th e soldiers arrive an hour later.*4 All told, a handful of w hites and perhaps as m any as one hundred blacks died in th e rioting, b u t th e disorders were so widespread th a t casualty figures are guesses a t best. Ignoring th e large num ber of black corpses, Dem ocrats held th e Negroes responsible for the out break and shed m any crocodile tears for th e "innocent" m en arrested by U nited S tates M arshal David Corbin. Corbin im prisoned more th an eighty w hites before th e election, b u t C hief Justice M orrison R. W aite, whose judicial circuit th en included South Carolina, declined to h ear th e cases during th e cam paign excitem ent. Federal authorities, Demo cratic editors cried, had solicited thousands of false affidavits and had paid ignorant Negroes liberal per diem allowances for perjured testi mony. W hen th e accused finally came to tria l in th e spring of 1877, th e ir attorneys argued th a t arrests had been m ade solely to intim idate Dem ocrats. The defense raised num erous procedural objections, m ain tained th a t th e indictm ents were legally defective, and used dilatory m otions to delay th e proceedings. W aite was disgusted w ith th e dis torted new spaper coverage of th e tria l, particularly the slanderous attack s on governm ent w itnesses. B ut such tactics proved effective as th e ju ry deadlocked along racial lines. On the request of Governor W ade H am pton, President Rutherford B. H ayes ordered th e charges dropped.3* A lthough historians of South C arolina Reconstruction have given th e bulk of th e ir atten tio n to th e H am burg m assacre, th e Ellenton rio t had g reater significance for th e sta te 's Republicans. The violence in A iken County forced C ham berlain's hand: he eith er had to take action to protect his friends in th e m idlands or become a governor w ithout au th o rity like Kellogg or Ames. L etters poured into th e governor's office from all p arts of th e sta te and from both p arties begging for soldiers to quell disturbances. G eneral Thomas H. Ruger, th e com m ander of federal troops in South C arolina, did not have enough m en to g arrí son all possible flashpoints. On October 7 C ham berlain issued a proclam ation declaring th a t "unlaw ful com binations" in A iken and Barnw ell counties w ere hindering th e enforcem ent of th e law and ordering all rifle clubs to disband im m ediately.36 The disingenuous howls of protest from conservatives were deafen ing. The Democratic executive com m ittee issued an address disputing th e governor's assertions and produced statem ents from the sta te ’s circuit judges, including several Republicans, to prove th a t peace pre-
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vailed. According to Ham pton and several Democratic editora, th e real intim idation came from radicals trying to prevent the Negroes from breaking loose from partisan shackles. The rifle d u b s calmly received Cham berlain’s decree and reorganized them selves into such unlikely groups as the A llendale Mounted Baseball Club and the F irst B aptist Church Sewing Circle.97 Such ploys did not am use Cham berlain, who informed President G rant th a t violence still plagued South Carolina. Desperate Republi cans believed th a t only troops and the declaration of m artial law could save them from being tram pled into the dust under the thundering hooves of m ounted red shirts. Although G rant and his advisers had hoped to avoid using th e arm y during th e campaign, the president issued a proclam ation on October 17 calling on all rifle clubs to disband and ordered more soldiers to South Carolina. Federal intervention un* doubtedly convinced Democrats to m oderate th eir behavior; perhaps they believed th a t night riding had already done its work. Republicans a t last held th eir m eetings w ith relatively little interference, and Cham berlain optim istically predicted th a t his party would carry the election w ith large m ajorities. The soldiers found little evidence of hostilities. Ruger cautiously confined his men to th eir barracks but kept them dose enough to the polls to render assistance in the event of a disturbance.99 Election day was com paratively quiet; arm y officers encountered scuffling betw een the parties in scattered precincts but little violence. Deputy m arshals m et w ith some resistance and feared to m ake arrests w ith arm ed red sh irts riding about. The Democrats were convinced th a t federal troops were now on th eir sid e." A fter feeling the force of Edgefield tactics firsthand, it is not surpris ing th a t m any Negroes doubted Ham pton's soothing promises. One black m an rem arked after a m eeting in Beaufort: “Dey say dem w ill do dis and d a t I ain ’t ax no m an w hat him w ill do—I ax him w hat him hab done.”40 The paucity of voluntary conversions led Democrats to use trickery, intim idation, and occasional violence to win black votes. Bal lots th a t looked like Republican tickets but contained the nam es of Democratic candidates were distributed to illiterate Negroes. Red sh irts rode into villages, hooting, hollering, and threatening to kill all the radicals if the Democracy did not carry the day. B elligerent w hites crowded ballot boxes, brandishing th eir pistols and preventing Repub licans from depositing th e ir tickets. Deputy m arshals in several pre cincts had to flee for th eir lives when Democrats took control of th e polls. Armed Georgians crossed the state line and not only voted them selves b u t helped rifle clubs cow Republicans.41 Not unexpectedly, election day in Edgefield more nearly resembled a
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m ilitary engagem ent th an an exercise in American democracy. Armed men arrived in town the night before and rode around giving the rebel yell, firing th eir pistols, and hurling bloodcurdling epithets a t local Republicans. Gary and M. C. B utler brought th eir rabid followers out in full force very early in the m orning to beat blacks to the polls as well as to beat them a t the polls. Red sh irts formed a solid line around the ballot boxes and prevented Negroes w ithout Democratic tickets from approaching. Some Democrats, including helpful Georgians, voted sev eral tim es during the day. Federal troops finally cleared a path to th e polls for the blacks, but by th a t tim e many had gone home.4’ The only serious disturbances occurred in Charleston. The day after the election, November 8, some white men gathered around a bulletin board in front of the News and Courier office to read the latest returns. W hen a drunken m an fired a pistol, several blacks ran through the streets scream ing th a t a leading w hite Republican had been murdered. A crowd of Negroes, including several policemen, then began shooting a t the whites. The rifle clubs and United States troops restored order, but one w hite m an was killed and several men of both races were wounded in th is last riot of the Reconstruction era in South Carolina.4* The outcome of the South Carolina election was uncertain, but the Hampton forces quickly claimed a victory. The campaign had been a counterrevolutionary one modeled on those in Alabama and Missis sippi but w ith some peculiar tw ists. Factionalism in the Republican party centered around the adm inistration of a Republican governor who actively solicited the support of conservative w hites and ignored the interests of black leaders. The usual carpetbagger-scalawag divi sion was absent in South Carolina, where black politicians exercised more power th an in any other southern state. Yet the Republicans seemingly surrendered w ithout putting up much of a fight. N either Cham berlain nor his radical opponents proposed using m ilitia to stop the red shirts. G rant immediately sent additional troops to the state, w ithout suggesting as he had to Adelbert Ames th a t the state govern m ent m ust first exhaust its own peacekeeping resources. More th an in any other state, black South Carolinians struck back a t violent Demo crats but w ith only lim ited success. Though able to m aintain th eir strength in the lowcountry, Republicans stood little chance in the mid lands and upcountry. W hatever its unusual features, the campaign tau g h t southern Democrats a fam iliar lesson: w hat cannot be won through the norm al political process can be secured by terrorism . In contrast to South Carolina, Louisiana in 1876 was alm ost tran quil. Although there was some talk of employing the Mississippi plan, cooler heads initially prevailed. Democrats officially repudiated the use of violence though they would adm ittedly employ any other means.
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including fraud and intim idation, to redeem the state. The party plat* form, drafted a t a Ju ly convention in Baton Rouge, accepted the post* w ar constitutional am endm ents and made reform the central issue of the campaign. The Democrats nom inated Francis T. Nicholls for gover nor, a choice reflecting tactical shrewdness as well as a relaxation of political tensions in the state. A former Confederate general who had lost an arm during the w ar, Nicholls was the epitome of southern respectability and a m an who could appeal to old soldiers and former slaves alike. In classic paternalistic fashion, Nicholls promised blacks th a t he would abide by his party’s pledges and would ensure both races equal protection of the law. To th eir opponents, the Louisiana Democ racy’s only fixed principle rem ained hostility to the Negro. Governor Kellogg accurately observed th a t Nicholls, despite his own conciliatory attitudes, would never be able to tam e the racial extrem ists in his own party, a relationship sim ilar to those between Hampton and Gary in South C arolina and between L.Q.C. Lam ar and the white liners in Mississippi. The N ew O rleans Republican sarcastically rem arked: “Take away from th e Democrat his shotgun, and be becomes as weak as Samson w ith his head shaved.”44 Factionalism continued to erode th e strength of Louisiana Republi cans. The Custom House contingent controlled a tum ultuous conven tion in New O rleans th a t nom inated Stephen B. Packard for governor on a ticket w ith three black men. Packard had long experience in backroom politics, and for m any members of both parties his candidacy signified a victory for political m achination over reform. W ith Pinchback and W armoth sulking on the sidelines, the Republicans entered upon a desperate contest. One overzealous partisan offered to bring in blacks from A rkansas to swell the Republican vote. Throughout the campaign, party speakers charged Nicholls with lacking both the will and the power to restrain his bloodthirsty followers. If the violence continued much longer, one Republican facetiously suggested, the state would not have enough Negroes left for a good race riot. More realistically, Packard supporters gloomily predicted th a t a Democratic trium ph would force w hite Republicans into exile and lead to the dis franchisem ent of the Negroes.48 Frightened by violent outbreaks in several parishes. Republicans pressed th eir northern friends for more m ilitary assistance. Governor Kellogg requested th a t black cavalry troops be stationed around the state—a plan surely guaranteed to produce racial warfare. General C hristopher Columbus Augur, who had succeeded Emory in command of the D epartm ent of the Gulf, deployed his men discreetly and unob trusively. Despite scream s of anguish, the Democrats knew th a t under recent judicial interpretations of the Enforcement Acts, the troops
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could do little but observe the voting. Augur stationed soldiers in sixtytwo locations across the state on election day, but Republicans in New O rleans expected trouble, and Kellogg wanted General Philip Sheri dan back in command.4* Election day in Louisiana was exceptionally peaceful by the state’s usual standards. Enthusiastic Democrats turned out in large numbers; more blacks voted conservative than in any previous election. The question, of course, was w hether these Negroes had voluntarily de serted the Republicans. Even revisionist historians have argued th a t many blacks had become so dissatisfied with the patronage and educa tional policies of the Kellogg government th a t they responded favor ably to Democratic appeals.47The preponderance of evidence, however, not only from Republican sources but from arm y officers and govern m ent officials in Louisiana, shows th a t intim idation played a decisive role in “p ersu ad in g ” black men to vote Democratic. T his generalization was particularly true in the five “bulldozed” parishes.46 Bands of regulators infested E ast Baton Rouge Parish as well as those areas lying immediately to the north. They claimed to be dis pensing justice to thieving blacks and unscrupulous white store keepers who trafficked in stolen seed cotton. The area had suffered from economic hard tim es since 1873, some of the best agricultural land was exhausted, and sharecropping arrangem ents were not en tirely satisfactory to either blacks or planters. The regulators, more commonly called "bulldozers” by 1876, burned several stores and whipped and hanged Negro farm ers. Blaming Republican officeholders for failing to arrest black crim inals, angry Democrats forced the black sheriff, the tax collector, and the parish judge to resign and leave the parish. Once the campaign got under way, "bulldozers" rode through the countryside beating and m urdering Republicans. Wild young men, many of respectable lineage, threatened to kill anyone who dared vote for the radical ticket and even abused black women. The coroner, who held inquests over the bodies of several slain Negroes, received notice either to leave the parish or suffer a sim ilar fate. Mounted vigilantes broke up Republican m eetings and forced blacks to attend Democratic rallies; two men who tried to organize a Republican club were later found hanging from a gatepost. On election day, whites handed Ne groes Democratic tickets and herded them to the polls while armed men harassed election commissioners and seized control of the ballot boxes. The mayor and city police allowed Democrats to picket the roads leading to Baton Rouge, thus preventing many blacks from voting.46 Ju st to the north, rum ors of a Negro insurrection had spread through E ast Feliciana Parish in Ju ly 1875, leading to the m urders of several black “incendiaries.” In October a sheriffs posse arrested a black man
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and woman on chargea of poisoning a doctor, but vigilantes seized th e pair, shooting the m an to death and lynching the woman. W hen a district judge arraigned several members of th is mob, arm ed whites entered the court and forced the judge to leave the parish. In March 1876 bulldozers hanged two young black girls, one of whom was preg nant, on a plantation near th e parish seat of Clinton. By th a t tim e Democrats had decided the Republican m ajority in the parish could be reversed only by preventing Negroes from voting. Armed men visited blacks a t night and warned them against going to the polla When Packard spoke a t Clinton in September, bulldozers jeered and inters rupted his address; Republicans abandoned the canvass, and many slept out of doors u n til after election day. Negroes who had been threatened or whipped joined the Democratic clubs and voted the con servative ticket.50 Regulators in W est Feliciana Parish assaulted a German storekeeper who was an active Republican, hanged two planters for living w ith black women, and whipped several Negroes for stealing cotton. Only th e presence of federal troops in Bayou Sara kept Republicans from leaving, but they still complained th a t the poet commander had Democratic sym pathies. W ith assistance from W ilkinson County, Mississippi, vigi lantes "persuaded” four police jurors to resign th eir offices. Refugees crowded the roads, fleeing from the plantations in fear of night riders. Since Republicans had no opportunity to canvass the parish, m any blacks joined Democratic clubs in order to receive protection from th e bulldozers. Economic and physical th reats against Negroes who failed to vote th e Nicholls ticket continued on election day. Republicans often could not distribute th eir ballots and failed to poll a single vote in a parish where they had previously won sizable majorities.*1 Democrats were equally determ ined to carry the election in the northern parish of Morehouse. Regulators visited Negroes a t night, sent coffins to Republican candidates, and whipped blacks who refused to join a Democratic club. Republicans held m eetings a t the risk of th eir lives, and when Packard delivered a speech in Bastrop, angry w hites hanged him in effigy and shouted him down. Sim ilar acts of intim idation continued through election day.** Terrorism was more serious in adjoining O uachita Parish. Regula tors strung up Negroes to a tree u n til they agreed to join the Demo cratic duba. Republicana could hold m eetings only w ith the protection of federal troops; black leaders fled into the swamps to escape bull dozers. In A ugust a m an in a slouch h a t and false whiskers (perhaps the infamous C aptain Jack) assassinated parish tax collector Bernard H. Dinkgrave, whose dead body served as a grisly w arning to others. Rumors circulated in Monroe th a t arm ed Negroes planned to m arch
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into the city on election day to create a disturbance. The mayor issued a proclamation and called out special policemen, whose m ain duty apparently consisted of driving black men away from the polk. After the ballots were cast, future governor Samuel D. McEnery and other prom inent Democrats forced blacks to sign affidavits swearing there had been no intim idation in the parish.53 The terror in Louisiana in 1876 was less extensive and more selec tive than in 1874. Confident of winning the governorship and control of the legislature, the Nicholls forces used W hite League tactics when necessary while publicly proclaiming a policy of peace. Both Kellogg and Cham berlain faced the w rath of white men determined to com plete the return of home rule in the southern states, but election vio lence did occur elsewhere. H istorians have naturally focused on the larger and more bloody disorders in South Carolina and Louisiana, but disturbances took place in Florida and in several states already under Democratic control. Like th eir brethren elsewhere, Florida Republicans entered the 1876 campaign deeply divided. Because blacks constituted 49 percent of the voting population, the party needed white support. Republicans of various stripes accused th eir rivals, often with some tru th , of collabo rating w ith Democrats. Initially there were two Republican candidates for governor, but the party’s national committee pressured both sides to back a single ticket headed by incumbent Governor M arcellus L. Stearns. Seeing an excellent chance to throw out th eir enemies, Demo crats eagerly rallied around the candidaçy of the bland and conserva tive businessman George F. Drew.54 Anxious Republicans charged th a t Georgians were preparing to in vade the state to intim idate blacks and incite race riots, but there were few disturbances during the campaign. Although several rifle dubs organized, apparently in the hope of receiving arm s from South Caro lina’s disbanded companies, none were active. Political discussions were interrupted by only scattered incidents of gunfire. Some economic intim idation took place, and Democratic clubs forcibly exacted pledges from blacks to vote the Democratic ticket. Fraud rather than violence characterized the canvass and the election.56Despite bitter controversy over the outcome of the state races. Drew was quietly inaugurated in January 1877, but the disposition of Florida’s electoral votes rem ained in dispute. After the campaign of 1875, Mississippi Republicans realized the con servatives were determ ined to carry the state again. Democratic Gover nor Jam es M. Stone dismissed reports of terrorism and claimed th a t both parties were conducting th eir canvasses with perfect freedom.53 Country editors urged Democratic partisans to attend Republican meet-
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inga and prevent radical speakers from slandering the white people of Mississippi; behind such advice lay the im plicit th reat of physical as* saults against Republicans of both races.” H istorians have generally seen the return of the Democrats to power as m arking the end of Reconstruction in the various southern states and have treated th is event with a finality th at ignores contemporary complexities. Even though the Democrats had carried Mississippi in 1875, the state's black electoral majority led many Republicans to believe th a t they could regain political control if the federal govern m ent could provide protection for Negro voters. Angry Republicans, many of whom had grown b itter and cynical about G rant's southern policies, wrote to the president and Attorney General Alphonso Taft demanding th a t the adm inistration either support the southern wing of the party with troops or stop pretending to be concerned about th at wing. As one dismayed old soldier put it, 1 am willing to take my chances. . . but [not] to put up a few men and have them killed for party purposes. I am getting tired of it." Although several hundred deputy m arshals were stationed a t various precincts on election day, th is token force m et verbal abuse and physical intim idation and was powerless to stop the Democratic dubs from controlling the ballot boxes.5* In counties where Republicans dared hold political gatherings, armed Democrats either heckled the speakers or demanded a division of the tim e. Angry young men chased one Republican canvasser through the streets of Natchez with shouts of “Hang the carpetbagger," “Shoot the radical," and “Rail-ride the son of a bitch." Ju st as in 1875, Democratic du b s used shotguns and cannon to cow voters and drive Republican leaders from th eir homes.9* A t Hernando in the far northwestern corner of the state, United States Attorney Thomas Walton attem pted to speak a t a joint political rally. The seating arrangem ents were rigidly segregated both by party and by race (which in 1876 were identical), but a scuffle broke out over some chairs. A Democrat waved a stick a t the blacks, and shooting erupted, leaving five blacks and two whites wounded.60 In Lowndes County on the Alabama border, black men brought a wagonload of arm s to a debate between congressional candidates. Democrats a t tem pted to seize these weapons, and in the ensuing exchange of gun fire, six Negroes fell wounded.61 Determined to carry all six congressional districts, Democrats were particularly anxious to unseat black Congressman John R. Lynch. A few federal soldiers were stationed in Claiborne County along the Mis sissippi River, hut local Republicans suspected them of harboring Democratic sympathies. When armed men appeared a t a Republican
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rally in Port Gibson, Lynch thought it best to cancel the m eeting rath er th an risk bloodshed A white posse later exchanged gunshots w ith several of Lynch’s black followers.62 Besides intim idating voters, these tactics forrad Republicans to curtail th eir campaign activities. As a result, the Democrats easily swept the state, thus completing the process of redemption and for the tim e being elim inating the Negro as a political force. "The late election in th is state," Republican State Executive Com* m ittee Chairm an H. R. Ware lam ented, "was but a medley of tragedy, comedy, and larra, the most shameless and unblushing outrage ever enacted in a free country.” Federal officials agreed; M arshal J . H. Pearce described the white population as "one vast mob.” Asserting th a t they would have easily won a fair election. Republicans vainly pleaded w ith adm inistration officials to send more soldiers to prevent the extinction of th eir party in Mississippi.63 Alabama Democrats stood ready to abort any revival of the Republi can party* Carpetbag Senator George Spencer and deputy United States m arshals were threatened w ith assassination if they interfered w ith the canvass. Desperate Republicans begged for protection and encouraged th eir northern friends to wave the bloody sh irt during the presidential campaign, but there were few disturbances in the state. At both the August gubernatorial election and the federal election in November, arm ed Democrats prevented the polls from being opened in many predom inantly Republican precincts.66 Republicans reported scattered incidents of intim idation against black voters in other states, but in most areas the balloting proceeded quietly. In p art, th is sense of calm reflected the belief of conservative w hites th a t redemption was about to be completed, but it may also have reflected a certain apathy about the presidential race. Although southern Democrats supported th eir presidential nominee, Samuel J. Tilden, th eir interest in the national election was distinctly secondary to th eir concern about state and local contests. The redoubtable ZebuIon Vance of N orth Carolina bluntly dismissed the presidential elec tion as "small potatoes.” Even before election day. South Carolina Democrats adm itted th eir willingness to concede the presidency to Hayes in exchange for control of their own state government.66 In both Louisiana and South Carolina, intim idation and terrorism placed the outcome of the election in doubt. The infamous Louisiana Returning Board and the State Board of Canvassers in South Caro lina would scrutinize the returns and not only declare the state win ners but also award th eir electoral votes to either Hayes or Tilden. W ith the outcome of the national election in doubt, there was greater than usual partisan pressure on these bodies to make the "correct” determ inations.66
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G rant took the growing num ber of th reats made against the Republi can state governments seriously and authorised additional troops for Louisiana and South Carolina. He also sent th a t old nemesis of south* ern firebrands. General Philip Sheridan, to New Orleans. Sheridan found the Crescent City surprisingly quiet, and his soldiers received a warm welcome from the W hite League». In the countryside, however, arm ed Democrats persecuted witnesses who had testified before the Returning Board. Nicholls-appointed local officials expelled Republi cans from th eir offices, and W hite League » patrolled several northern parishes.*7 As expected, the Returning Board threw out enough ballots to give Hayes the state's electoral votes, to elect the Republican state ticket, and to establish a Republican majority in both houses of the legisla ture. Refusing to accept th is result, Democratic leaden set up a de facto government and sought recognition from G rant. W ith arm s seized from the state arm ory during the September 1874 rebellion, the Nicholls m ilitia (White League units) paraded through New Orleans while General Ogden and his staff prepared to move against Packard. Early on the m orning of January 9, armed men appeared on the streets, shops dosed, and citizens braced themselves for battle. This tim e the outnumbered M etropolitan Police decided th a t resistance would be futile; the Nicholls m ilitia captured the police stations and supreme court building and cut the telegraph lines. A mob surrounded the statehouse, where Packard and his friends had retreated to w ait for help from Washington.** The hoped-for assistance never came. Packard’s position in New Orleans steadily deteriorated. In the scramble for state and federal patronage, some Republicans deserted to the Nicholls side. As observe» on the scene noted. Democrats stood ready to fight for Nicholls, and a W hite League attack on the statehouse was expected a t any tim e. A mysterious stranger from Philadel phia allegedly tried to shoot Packard a t his office, but Democrats charged th a t th is rum or had been concocted for northern edification. Had either G rant or Hayes recognized Packard, his assassination would have been highly probable. In contrast to th eir undying devotion to Nicholls, Louisianians attached little importance to the presidential question and were willing to accept Hayes in exchange for home rule.** As the Republican era in Louisiana moved inexorably toward its close, Reconstruction in South Carolina entered its final phase. There, too, incomplete returns, charges of intim idation and fraud, and espe cially terrorism perpetrated by the rifle clubs, made an accurate deter m ination of the results problematical. The State Board of Canvassers, protected by federal troops in Columbia, awarded the Republicans a majority of the seats in the legislature. That body would then determ ine who had been elected governor and lieutenant governor as well as rul-
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ing on disputed legislative seats finan Edgefield and Laurens counties. To South Carolina Democrats, the presidential contest seemed inconse quential compared to the death struggle against radicalism a t home.70 When the legislature assembled a t the end of November, Republi cans feared the Democrats m ight stage a coup. Although armed men moved into Columbia from the countryside, Hampton convinced his more fanatical friends to contain th eir outrage. For more than four days, both Republicans and Democrats attem pted to conduct business in the House of Representatives, but on December 4 the Democrats withdrew to form th eir own house. W ith considerable difficulty, Hamp ton again dissuaded his supporters from storming the statehouse. Gen eral Gary and the Edgefield fire-eaters vigorously denounced th is “re treat,” but Hampton had wisely avoided precipitating a fatal collision with national authority.71 “We have the world, the flesh and the devil to fight,** Chamberlain informed Attorney General Taft, “b u tth in k we shall pull through. The shotgun policy i s . . . a success only with niggers." Such brave words hardly reflected the gravity of the situation. In his own inaugural address in early December, Chamberlain quoted Hampton as saying th a t he held the governor’s life in his hands. Indeed, one word from Hampton, and the M assachusetts carpetbagger would have soon been dangling a t the end of a rope. Angry Democrats drove local Republican officials from th eir offices, and the rifle clubs staged an effective cam paign of economic and physical intim idation against the witnesses in the Hamburg and Ellenton riot cases.70 The countryside rem ained tense. Frightened Republicans reported a reign of terror, including several m urders, against Chamberlain sup porters. A fter a brief trip to South Carolina, veteran Ohio politico Samuel Shellabarger concluded th a t the rifle dubs would have easily taken over the state and assassinated Republican leaders had Hamp ton not restrained them . When President Hayes appeared to delay the withdrawal of m ilitary support for the Republican government, Hamp ton supposedly warned Hayes th a t every tax collector in the state would be hanged w ithin twenty-four hours if the new president recog nized Cham berlain.73 This story is probably apocryphal, but it exem plifies the blind determ ination of South Carolina conservatives to tri umph no m atter w hat the cost. In contrast to the passions generated by then state contests, only a few hotheads favored fighting for Tilden. Given their conspiratorial attitude toward national politics, many conservatives naturally sus pected a radical plot by G rant and other Republicans to use federal troopB to install Hayes as president. On the whole, however, the reac tion in the southern states to the presidential election deadlock was
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surprisingly calm.74 Still holding b itter memories from the 1860-61 period, southern conservatives had little faith in the northern Demo crats and no great confidence in Tilden’s abilities to meet the chal lenges of the electoral crisis.74 W ith their prim ary objectives of home rule and white racial hegemony secure, southern Democrats could ac cept Hayes in the W hite House. The election deadlock coincided with but had little influence on the ending of Reconstruction. The 1876 campaign merely marked the cul m ination of the counterrevolution and the completion of redemption. As the country argued over who had been elected president, few Americans paid much attention to the fraud, intim idation, and terror ism in the South th a t returned the region to conservative control and restored blacks to a condition more resembling serfdom than freedom.
Epilogue: On the Inevitability of Tragedy
w H h e violent overthrow of Republican state governments in the South and the subversion of the nation's Reconstruction policies raise several disturbing and tim eless questions. The American nation was no more successful in resolving its sectional differences during Recon struction th an in the antebellum decades. The m eaning and results of the North’s battlefield victory rem ained unclear. The tum ult and bloodshed of Reconstruction were but a reflection of the period’s revolutionary character. One need not accept Charles Beard’s interpretation of the Civil W ar and Reconstruction as a “Sec ond American Revolution” to dem onstrate the reality of the upheaval.1 Tp describe the era as a trium ph of northern capitalism over southern agrarianism is too simple, although the revolutionary nature of eman cipation is undeniable. In I860 most southern blacks were slaves; by 1865 they were free; by 1867 they were citizens and voters; and by 1868 some were holding im portant public offices. N orthern victory in the Civil W ar can be seen as the trium ph of a modern society over a traditional one, of cosmopolitanism over provincialism, and of free la bor over a quasi-feudal social order.1 To provide future security for a restored Union, the federal govern m ent attem pted to supervise and shape the operations of state and local governments in the former Confederate states. Sim ilar policies have often led to revolution in other parts of the world.* In th is case I prefer to call it counterrevolution. Faced with the loes of th eir eco nomic resources, political power, and racial hegemony, white south erners sought desperately to preserve as much of th eir traditional soci ety as possible. M ilitary Reconstruction forced politicians to reconsider th eir electoral strategy and make appeals to black voters, but it did little to change the ultim ate direction of the region’s politics. In the end, the w hite South threw off the yoke of “Jacobinical radicalism ” and reestablished home rule and race control.
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The m yths and legends of Reconstruction, which have been exorcised by modern scholarship, still have a life of th eir own. Reconstruction was a great traum a th a t w hite southerners could not forget. Thé fail ure of the Republican party to rem ake southern society should not blind us to the fact th a t the attem pt was made. Despite the N orth's abandonm ent of the crusade and the South’s victorious guerrilla war, later storytellers greatly embroidered tales of carpetbagger knavery and black depravity.4 During the tum ultuous decade following the war, a reactionary nationalism developed in the South th at continued the w ar against the Yankee on several fronts. Antebellum southern nationalists had poured great energy into creating a sectional literature, a sectional idea of education, and above all an intellectual and moral defense of slavery. N ortherners sought to destroy th is world view, but they failed m iserably. Instead, defeat produced a unity in the South th a t had never before existed, even during the halcyon days of the Confed eracy.5 The Reconstruction experience did not rem ake southern soci ety in the image of the free N orth but reinforced regional distinctive ness. The nationalism th a t was shattered a t Appomattox was reborn in the rocky soil of defeat and disillusionm ent The Confederacy never surrendered beyond the mere laying down of arm s. An anonymous Georgian prophetically warned Thaddeus Ste vens, "Your idea of governing the conquered states by the force of the bayonet may serve for a tim e, but it fills the future with blood. You are aware of the historical fact th a t no people have yet been satisfied w ith a single unsuccessful blow for independence.” Even a moderate such as E thelbert Barksdale asserted th a t an “arm y of one hundred thousand men” could not m aintain the Reconstruction governments in the South. He predicted th a t the northern people would refuse to support a large m ilitary establishm ent and would abandon southern Republi cans to th eir fate.6 Albion Tourgée concluded from his own b itter expe rience in North Carolina th a t when southerners assaulted and killed w hite and black Republicans, they were really attacking the national governm ent and the ideas it represented. Significantly, many of these acts of aggression took place near statehouses and courthouses, the symbolic centers of the revolutionary regimes.7 The violent episodes in the postwar South were not undifferentiated responses to defeat, racial competition, and sectional reunion. Rather, th eir character evolved from random outrages to system atic terrorism . During presidential Reconstruction, political, economic, and social tu r moil produced disorders. Isolated assaults and m urders, many against Union men and blacks, often had local or personal origins but also reflected a deep and general sense of frustration and anger among old
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Confederates. Shifting population patterns, agricultural distress, and em ancipation severely strained southern life both in the countryside and the cities. One result was the race riots in Memphis and New Orleans. These early outbreaks were indicative of the chaotic condition of the South during the early Reconstruction period. The persistent tensions in southern society continued to produce individual acts of violence even after the passage of the Reconstruction acts. Yet by 1867 the violence became increasingly political as w hite southerners attem pted to defy congressional m andates, overthrow the hated Republican state governments, and drive the “foreigners” from th eir soil. The lack of effective organization, however, blunted these counterrevolutionary thrusts. As a body designed to destroy Recon struction and all its works, the K uK lux Klan was a failure. Individual dens sometimes operated w ith frightening power, but there was never a wider "K lan conspiracy” in any real sense. Equally im portant, dur ing the Ku Klux era the federal government was willing to take a t least m inim al action against southern terrorism . By the mid-1870s changing political conditions and the redemption of several southern states had confined political violence to a sm aller area but made it more desperate and intense. In states still governed by Republicans, w hite conservatives conducted a vigorous propaganda w ar against th eir foes and launched taxpayers' protests. Losing pa tience w ith slow and peaceful methods, many southerners eventually turned to the w hite line organizations. These groups sought to raise the color bar in southern politics and a t the same tim e revive the state Democratic organizations. Applying lessons learned from the failure of the K lan, Democrats used intim idation and force in a way carefully calculated to sap the strength of th eir enem ies w ithout provoking fed eral intervention. This new strategy also benefited from the waning public support in th e North for m ilitary interference in the South. A series of skillful and violent blows led to the final collapse of recon struction, b u t all th is activity took place behind a smokescreen of con servative alarm s and hyperbole. As young Georges Clemenceau re m arked about southern disturbances, "In all events of the kind, the rem arkable feature is th a t according to telegraphic reports, there is always a band of heavily arm ed negroes attacking a handful of harm less whites. Then when it comes to counting the dead, a few negroes are always down, but of w hite men, not a trace.”* As instances of violence mounted, both the m agnitude of these disorders and the Lilli putian m eans available to suppress them became apparent. From a modern perspective, the Reconstruction policies of the na tional governm ent seem mild, tim id, and too short-lived to produce significant changes in traditional southern society. H istorians have
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therefore suggested th a t the South should have been kept out of the Union under m ilitary supervision for an indefinite period of tim e. O ther scholars believe the distribution of land to the freedmen was essential because it would have given blacks an economic base from which to exercise and protect th eir newly won civil and political rights. Indeed, the conviction th a t land reform would have been the best solu tion has become, in Herman Belz’s phrase, the “new orthodoxy in Re construction historiography.”* This faith in larger doses of radicalism may rest on questionable ideological assum ptions, but, more im portant, it ignores both the sise of the task and the context of the tim es. Tourgée later recalled th a t m any southern Republicans had never realized th a t “the social condi tions of three hundred years are not to be overthrown in a moment.” The deeply conservative W illiam T. Sherm an agreed th at the problems plaguing the South “will hardly disappear until a new generation is bora and reach m aturity.” Ironically, even th is pessim istic forecast underestim ated the size of the task .10 In the middle decades of the nineteenth century, the American people and th eir political lead en were neither united nor patient enough to carry a radical policy to completion. The Yankees de manded both a thorough and a brief Reconstruction, but these goals were m utually exclusive. When a choice had to be made, the northern public preferred to wash its hands of the race question rath er than follow a consistent program to a successful conclusion in the distant ftiture. H istorians who criticize the Republicans for not implementing more radical m easures have neither dem onstrated th eir workability nor shown th a t they could have been adopted, much less effectively adm inistered. Any Draconian policy would have had to rely on m ilitary force. The popular cry for slashing federal expenditures had already reduced the strength of the arm y, and it could barely handle its current responsi bilities in the South and on the G reat Plains. Both officers and enlisted men detested southern duty, and most seemed to prefer fighting Indi ans to dealing w ith recalcitrant and sometimes dangerous rebels. To effect a genuine reconstruction clearly would have required many more men th an were available in the 1870s, and Congress was un w illing to expand the size of the arm y for th is purpose. Finally, w hat would have been the long-range consequences for the American repub lic of keeping the southern states in a semicolonial status for a long period of time? Popular antipathy to m ilitary m easures and expenditures was p art of a deeply rooted public philosophy. Few people advocated th a t an activist governm ent reshape the South along the lines desired by radi-
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cal Republicans or la ter historians. Despite the centralizing effects of the Civil W ar, retrenchm ent and lim ited functions became the hall* m arks of governm ent a t all levels during the Gilded Age. President Ulysses S. G rant tried to adm inister the laws passed by Congress with out actively participating in the legislative process. G rant’s frequent vacation trips to the seaside resort a t Long Branch, New Jersey, led Jam es A. Garfield to rem ark. T h e President has done much to show w ith how little personal attention the Government can be run.” G ar field saw th is attitu d e as the “drift of modern thought,” and it was hardly fertile ground for a more vigorous southern policy.11 The desire to leave things alone coupled with the growing popularity of Social Darwinism precluded any substantial welfare assistance for blacks. U niversal suffrage was the great panacea of the age, and many friends of the Negro believed he needed no further aid once he had acquired the sacred ballot. If, arm ed w ith this powerful weapon, the freedmen and th eir w hite allies lost elections to the southern Democ racy, so be it. N orthern radicals soon lost interest in the blacks and abandoned them to the tender mercies of the redeem ers.1* The waning of northern commitment to Reconstruction was to be expected. The ability of any people to participate fully in a political or social crusade is sharply lim ited by tim e. In applying this generaliza tion to the problem of revolution. Crane Brinton has argued th a t a Therm idorean reaction is a “universal” phenomenon th a t comes sooner or later in diverse settings under widely differing circumstances.19 Therefore, to expect the American people to have sustained the com m itm ent necessary for a radical transform ation of the South is asking them to transcend th eir own hum anity. H istorians have overemphasized the weaknesses of northern policy and ideology in explaining the failure of Reconstruction and have over looked the persistence and strength of southern resistance.14 Ameri cans, like most other peoples, have been defensive about th eir violent past and have preferred to draw th eir moral lessons about brutality from the experiences of other cultures or to attribute all barbarism s to “outside” influences.1* Conservative southerners, therefore, saw the Yankee as the embodiment of tyranny and the disorders in th eir region as instigated by foreign incendiaries. Social scientists have long recognized the importance of violence as a catalyst for social change16 but have neglected its role as a conserva tive or even reactionary instrum ent. The Reconstruction legacy legit imized the use of force in southern society.17By 1877 the m agnitude of the terrorism and the success of the counterrevolution made the con clusion of the “tragic era” inevitably tragic.
Notes
C hapter 1: American Violence, Southern Violence, and Reconstruction 1. See David Potter, "Civil War," in C. Vann Woodward, ed.. The Compara tive Approach to American History (New York: Basic Books, 1968), 135-44. 2. W. Eugene Hollon, Frontier Violence: Another Look (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 5-15,22-35; Richard Maxwell Brown, Strain of Vio lence: Historical Studies of American Violence and Vigilantism (New York: Oxford University Press, 1975), 3-4. 3. See Sheldon Hackney, "Southern Violence,” in Hugh Davis Graham and Ted Robert Gurr, eds., Violence in America: Historical and Comparative Per spectives (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1969), 387401; Dickson D. Bruce, Jr., Violence and Culture in the Antebellum South (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1979), 4 and note 4. But one should be cautious about making too much of regional differences. As Michael Feldberg has pointed out, Americans in the Jacksonian period witnessed frequent riots and almost came to look upon violence as a natural part of the political process {The Turbulent Era: Riot and Disorder in Jacksonian America [New York: Oxford University Press, 1980], 4-7,127-28). 4. Wilbur J. Cash, The Mind of the South (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1941), 32-35; Richard Slotkin, Regeneration through Violence: The Mythology of the American Frontier, 1600-1860 (Middletown, Conn.: Wesleyan University Press, 1973), 552-56 and passim. 5. Bruce, Violence and Culture, 6-18,44-72. 6. Ibid., 4-5,91-98,187-88. 7. The best critique of the ahistorical approach of many social scientists to the study of human aggressiveness is still Reinhold Niebuhr, The Irony of American History (New York: Scribner’s, 1952), 60,85-87. 8. For two concise expressions of this viewpoint, see Eric McKitrick, “Recon struction: Ultraconservative Revolution,” in Woodward, ed., Comparative Ap proach to American History, 151-54, and Michael Les Benedict, "Preserving the Constitution: The Conservative Basis of Radical Reconstruction,” Journal of American History 61 (June 1974): 65-90. 9. C. Vann Woodward, The Burden