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How to go to your page This eBook contains two volumes. Each volume has its own page numbering scheme, consisting of a volume number and a page number, separated by a hyphen. For example, to go to page 5 of Volume 1, type vol1:5 in the “page #” box at the top of the screen and click “Go.” To go to page 5 of Volume 2, type vol2:5 in the "page #" box… and so forth.

Voices of the African American Experience

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Voices of the African American Experience VOLUME 1 Edited by Lionel C. Bascom

GREENWOOD PRESS Westport, Connecticut ¥ London

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Voices of the African American experience / edited by Lionel C. Bascom. 3 v. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-313-34347-6 (set) — ISBN 978-0-313-34349-0 (vol. 1) — ISBN 978-0-313-34351-3 (vol. 2) — ISBN 978-0-313-34353-7 (vol. 3) 1. African Americans—History—Sources. I. Bascom, Lionel C. E184. 6. V65 2009 2008056155 9730 .0496073—dc22 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available. Copyright C 2009 by Lionel C. Bascom All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, by any process or technique, without the express written consent of the publisher. Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2008056155 ISBN: 978-0-313-34347-6 978-0-313-34349-0 978-0-313-34351-3 978-0-313-34353-7

(set) (vol 1) (vol 2) (vol 3)

First published in 2009 Greenwood Press, 88 Post Road West, Westport, CT 06881 An imprint of Greenwood Publishing Group, Inc. www.greenwood.com Printed in the United States of America

The paper used in this book complies with the Permanent Paper Standard issued by the National Information Standards Organization (Z39.48-1984). 10 9 8 7

6 5 4 3

2 1

Every reasonable effort has been made to trace the owners of copyright materials in this book, but in some instances this has proven impossible. The author and publisher will be glad to receive information leading to more complete acknowledgments in subsequent printings of the book and in the meantime extend their apologies for any omissions.

Contents Preface Introduction Chronology

xiii xvii xxi VOLUME 1

1. A Narrative Of the Uncommon Sufferings, And Surprizing Delieverance Of Briton Hammon, A Negro Man,—Servant to General Winslow, Of Marshﬁeld, in New-England; Who returned to Boston, after having been absent almost Thirteen Years. Containing An Account of the many Hardships he underwent from the Time he left his Master’s House, in the Year 1747, to the Time of his Return to Boston.—How he was Cast away in the Capes of Florida;—the horrid Cruelty and inhuman Barbarity of the Indians in murdering the whole Ship’s Crew;—the Manner of his being carry’d by them into Captivity. Also, An Account of his being Conﬁned Four Years and Seven Months in a close Dungeon,—And the remarkable Manner in which he met with his good old Master in London; who returned to New-England, a Passenger, in the same Ship, by Briton Hammon, 1760 2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life of James Albert Ukawsaw Gronniosaw, an African Prince, written by himself, 1774 3. Notes on the State of Virginia, by Thomas Jefferson, 1782 4. An Address to the Negroes in the State of New-York, by Jupiter Hammon, 1787 5. The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, 1789 6. The Fugitive Slave Act, U.S. Congress, 1793 7. Printed Letter, by Anthony New, 1794 8. A Narrative of the Life and Adventures of Venture: A Native of Africa, but Resident above Sixty Years in the United States of America, Related by Himself, 1798 9. The Confessions of Nat Turner, the Leader of the Late Insurrection in Southampton, Virginia, 1832 10. John Quincy Adams diary 41, 5 December 1836–4 January 1837, 29 July 1840–31 December 1841

1

6 25 30 37 47 47

48 51 54

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11. Illinois State Legislator Abraham Lincoln Opposes Slavery, March 3, 1837 12. The Church and Prejudice, by Frederick Douglass, November 4, 1841 13. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave, Written by Himself, 1845 14. Farewell to the British People: An Address Delivered in London, England, March 30, 1847, by Frederick Douglass 15. Narrative of the life and adventures of Henry Bibb, an American slave, written by himself, 1849 16. Excerpted from ‘‘Uncle Tom’s Story of His Life’’ an Autobiography of the Rev. Josiah Henson (Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe’s ‘‘Uncle Tom’’), from 1789 to 1876 17. The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro, by Frederick Douglass, July 5, 1852 18. Choice Thoughts and Utterances of Wise Colored People 19. Essay on Slavery Conditions, by Francis Henderson, 1856 20. Supreme Court of the United States in Dred Scott v. John F. Sanford, March 6, 1857 21. Speech by Abraham Lincoln on the Dred Scott Decision and Slavery, June 26, 1857 22. Our Nig; or, Sketches from the Life of a Free Black, in a Two-Story White House, North, by Harriet E. Wilson, 1859 23. Letters on American Slavery from Victor Hugo, de Tocqueville, Emile de Girardin, Carnot, Passy, Mazzini, Humboldt, O. Lafayette—&c, 1860 24. Correspondence between Lydia Maria Child and Gov. Wise and Mrs. Mason, of Virginia, 1860 25. The Constitution of the United States: Is It Pro-Slavery or Anti-Slavery?, by Frederick Douglass, March 26, 1860 26. History of American abolitionism: its four great epochs, embracing narratives of the ordinance of 1787, compromise of 1820, annexation of Texas, Mexican war, Wilmot proviso, negro insurrections, abolition riots, slave rescues, compromise of 1850, Kansas bill of 1854, John Brown insurrection, 1859, valuable statistics, &c., &c., &c., together with a history of the southern confederacy, by F.G. De Fontaine, 1861 27. George Wils to Writer’s Sister, March 18, 1861 28. ‘‘Fighting Rebels with Only One Hand,’’ Douglass’ Monthly [The North Star], September 1861 29. Excerpt from The Gullah Proverbs of 1861, Down by the Riverside: A South Carolina Slave Community, by Charles Joyner 30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal, report of E. L. Pierce, to the Hon. Salmon P. Chase, U.S. Secretary of the Treasury, 1862 31. The Emancipation Proclamation, 1863 32. William Tell Barnitz to the Pennsylvania Daily Telegraph, March 27, 1863

58 59 61 62 62

65 66 71 74 75 76 84

87 100 117

120 170 171 173

174 195 196

Contents vii

33. Sojourner Truth, The Libyan Sibyl, by Harriet Beecher Stowe, April 1863 34. The Negro in the Regular Army, by Oswald Garrison Villard 35. Our alma mater: Notes on an address delivered at Concert Hall on the occasion of the Twelfth Annual Commencement of the Institute for Colored Youth, by Alumni Association, May 10, 1864 36. Excerpt reprinted from ‘‘A Colored Man’s Reminiscences of James Madison’’ 37. What the Black Man Wants: a speech delivered by Frederick Douglass at the Annual Meeting of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society in Boston, April 1865 38. 14th Amendment, 1866 39. Letter from Amelia [Unknown family name] to brother Eddie, December 11, 1869 40. First Annual Address to the Law Graduates of Allen University, class 1884, given by D. Augustus Straker, June 12, 1884 41. Emigration to Liberia, Report of the Standing committee on emigration of the Board of directors of the American colonization society, unanimously adopted, Washington D.C.: January 20, 1885 42. The Future of the Colored Race, by Frederick Douglass, May 1886

198 203

205 207

210 216 217 218

224 229

VOLUME 2 43. Common Sense in Common Schooling: a sermon by Alex. Crummell, Rector of St. Luke’s Church, Washington, D.C., September 13, 1886 44. The Wonderful Eventful Life of Rev. Thomas James, by himself, 1887 45. A memorial souvenir of Rev. J. Wofford White, Pastor of Wesley M.E. Church, Charleston, S.C., who fell asleep, January 7th, 1890, aged 33 years, by George C. Rowe Clinton, 1890 46. What the Southern Negro is Doing for Himself, by Samuel J. Barrows, June 1891 47. In memoriam: Sarah Partridge Spofford: born November 10, 1823, departed May 11, 1892, Substance of address by Rev. R. R. Shippen at the funeral service, May 13, 1892 48. A Noble Life: Memorial Souvenir of Rev. Jos. C. Price, D.D, by George C. Rowe Clinton, 1894 49. Light beyond the Darkness, by Frances E.W. Harper, 189-(?) 50. Excerpted from Afro-American encyclopedia, or, the thoughts, doings, and sayings of the race: embracing addresses, lectures, biographical sketches, sermons, poems, names of universities, colleges, seminaries, newspapers, books, and a history of the denominations, giving the numerical strength of each. In fact, it teaches every subject of interest to the colored people, as dicussed by more than one hundred of their

233 239

255 256

267 270 272

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51. 52. 53. 54. 55.

56. 57. 58. 59. 60.

61. 62.

63. 64. 65. 66.

67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72.

wisest and best men and women, compiled and arranged by James T. Haley, 1895 Sermon preached by Rev. G. V. Clark, at Second Congregational Church, Memphis, Tenn., Sunday morning June 16, 1895 The Atlanta Compromise, by Booker T. Washington, 1895 The higher education of the colored people of the South, remarks of Hugh M. Browne, of Washington D.C., 1896 Supreme Court of the United States in Plessy vs. Ferguson 163 U.S. 537, 1896 Address of Booker T. Washington, delivered at the alumni dinner of Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts, after receiving the honorary degree of ‘‘Master of Arts,’’ June 24, 1896 How shall the colored youth of the South be educated?, by A. D. Mayo, 1897 ‘‘Lift Every Voice and Sing,’’ or, ‘‘The Negro National Anthem,’’ by James Weldon Johnson and John R. Johnson Commentary on The Progress of Colored Women, by Mary Church Terrell, by Richard T. Greener, 1898 A Century of Negro Migration, by Carter G. Woodson An address by Booker T. Washington, prin., Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Tuskegee, Alabama: delivered under the auspices of the Armstrong Association, Lincoln Day exercises, at the Madison Square Garden Concert Hall, New York, N.Y., February 12, 1898 The Progress of Colored Women, by Mary Church Terrell, 1898 The Literary souvenir, by Miss Rosena C. Palmer, Miss Lizzie L. Nelson, Miss Lizzie B. Williams … [et al.], Volume 1, 1898 A Negro Schoolmaster in the New South, by W. E. Burghardt DuBois, 1899 A prayer: words by B. G. Brawley, music by Arthur Hilton Ryder, 1899 The Hardwick Bill: an interview in the Atlanta Constitution, by Booker T. Washington, 1900 Nineteenth annual report of the principal of the Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Tuskegee, Alabama, for the year ending May 31, 1900, submitted by Booker T. Washington Paths of Hope for the Negro: Practical Suggestions of a Southerner, by Jerome Dowd, 1900 The Freedmen’s Bureau, by W. E. Burghardt DuBois, March 1901 The Free Colored People of North Carolina, by Charles Waddell Chesnutt, 1902 Of the Training of Black Men, by W. E. B. DuBois, September 1902 The Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U.S.A., An address to the American Negro, 1907 The Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U.S.A., An address to the American Negro, on ‘‘Separate but Equal’’ doctrines, 1907

274 275 281 283 289

293 296 308 309 310

311 313

319 330 336 337

340 346 351 363 367 368 373

Contents

73. The Flat Hunters: a Musical Satire on Moving Day, by Junie McCree, 1914 74. The Negro Genius, by Benjamin Brawley, May 1915 75. Excerpt from the Marcus Garvey and Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA) Papers, 1919 76. A Century of Negro Migration, Chapter 10, by Carter Godwin Woodson 77. The Soul of White Folks, by W. E. B. DuBois, 1920 78. Declaration of Rights of the Negro Peoples of the World, 1920 79. The Eruption of Tulsa, by Walter White, June 29, 1921 80. The Autobiography of Marcus Garvey, 1923 81. Harlem, by Alain Locke, March 1925 82. Enter the New Negro, by Alain Locke, March 1925 83. African Fundamentalism, by Marcus Garvey, 1925 84. A Piece of Saw, by Theodore Ledyard Browne, May 1929 85. The South Speaks, by John Henry Hammond, Jr., April 26, 1933 86. The Pullman Porters Win, by Edward Berman, August 21, 1935 87. Deadhead: A Pullman Porter Steps Out of Character, by Jessie Carter, August 1935 88. September Ghost Town–Almost: The Depression Hits a Negro Town, by Isabel M. Thompson and Louise T. Clarke, September 1935 89. Harlem: Dark Weather-Vane, by Alain Locke, August 1936 90. Twenty-one Negro Spirituals, Americana No. 3, Recorded by So. Carolina Project Workers, Efﬁngham, South Carolina, 1937 91. Amateur Night in Harlem, ‘‘That’s Why Darkies Were Born,’’ by Dorothy West, 1938 92. Temple of Grace, by Dorothy West, 1938

374 375 377 379 385 395 399 401 409 412 419 421 426 430 433 436 438 447 454 457

VOLUME 3 93. Game Songs and Rhymes, interview with Mrs. Laura M, by Dorothy West, October 1938 94. Afternoon in a Pushcart Peddler’s Colony, by Frank Byrd, December 1938 95. Matt Henson, North Pole explorer retires, by Theodore Poston, 1938–1939 96. Midlothian, Illinois: A Folklore in the Making, by Alfred O. Phillipp, 1939 97. Cocktail Party: Personal Experience, Harlem Hostess, by Dorothy West, 1939 98. Down in the West Indies, by Ellis Williams, January 1939 99. Laundry Workers, by Vivian Morris, March 1939 100. Worker’s Alliance, by Vivian Morris, May 1939 101. ‘‘Early in the Morning,’’ sung by Hollis (Fat Head) Washington, May 23–25, 1939 102. ‘‘Got a Woman on the Bayou,’’ sung by Ross (Po’ Chance) Williams, Field Holler, May 23–25, 1939

463 469 472 474 476 480 482 484 485 485

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103. ‘‘If She Don’t Come on de Big Boat,’’ sung by W.D. (Alabama) Stewart, Field Holler, May 23–25, 1939 104. Jim Cole, Negro Packinghouse Worker, by Betty Burke, July 1939 105. Negro Life on a Farm, Mary Johnson, by Mrs. Ina B. Hawkes, October 27, 1939 106. Coonjine in Manhattan, by Garnett Laidlaw Eskew, 1939 107. Harlem Parties, by Al Thayer, as told to Frank Byrd, 1939–1940 108. Excerpt from Twelve Million Black Voices, by Richard Wright, 1941 109. The Woman at the Well, by James Baldwin, 1941 110. In a Harlem Cabaret, by O’Neill Carrington, 1942 111. Rendezvous with Life: An Interview with Countee Cullen, by James Baldwin, 1942 112. Executive Order 9981, issued by President Harry S. Truman on July 26, 1948 113. Taking Jim Crow out of uniform: A. Philip Randolph and the desegregation of the U.S. military—Special Report: The Integrated Military—50 Years, by Karin Chenoweth 114. Ralph Bunche Biography, From Nobel Lectures, Peace 1950 115. Nobel Peace Prize Winner Ralph Bunche, Acceptance Speech, 1950 116. FBI Investigation of Malcolm X, 1925–1964 117. Supreme Court of the United States in Brown vs. Board of Education, 1954 118. Negro as an American, by Lyndon B. Johnson, Robert C. Weaver, Joseph P. Lyford, and John Cogley, 1963 119. President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Address Before a Joint Session of the Congress, November 27, 1963 120. Excerpts from 78 Stat. 241, The Civil Rights Act of 1964 121. ‘‘The Ballot or the Bullet,’’ delivered by Malcolm X in Cleveland, April 3, 1964 122. President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Radio and Television Remarks Upon Signing the Civil Rights Bill, July 2, 1964 123. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 124. The Equal Employment Opportunity Act, 1965 125. Statement on the Articles of Impeachment, by Barbara Charline Jordan, July 25, 1974 126. 1976 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, by Barbara Charline Jordan, July 12, 1976 127. Q & A with Singer Alberta Hunter, by talk show host Dick Cavett, 1978 128. 1984 Democratic National Convention Address, by Jesse Jackson, July 18, 1984 129. 1988 Democratic National Convention Address, by Jesse Jackson, July 19, 1988 130. Dorothy Gilliam interview, 1992 131. Oral History of Bassist Chuck Rainey, by Will Lee, 1992 132. Minister Louis Farrakhan Challenges Black Men—remarks made during the Million Man March, October 17, 1995

486 486 487 489 496 499 499 502 502 504

505 508 510 511 517 520 528 531 533 546 548 557 564 567 570 574 581 590 611 617

Contents

133. The Oral History of Ruth Spaulding Boyd, interviewed by Serena Rhodie, 1996 134. The Oral History of Nathaniel B. White, interviewed by Robb Carroll, 1996 135. From ‘‘Diana Ross,’’ by Jill Hamilton from Rolling Stone, November 13, 1997 136. Interview with Dr. William Anderson, June 16, 1998 137. The Temptations Interview, by Billboard Magazine, July 22, 2000 138. 2000 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, by Congressman Harold Ford, Jr., August 15, 2000 139. Excerpts from ‘‘Al Foster: Drummer, Gentleman, Scholar,’’ Modern Drummer Magazine, April 2003 140. Excerpts from ‘‘Steve Smith: Confessions of an Ethnic Drummer,’’ by Bill Milkowski, Modern Drummer Magazine, May 2003 141. 2004 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, by Barack Obama, July 27, 2004 142. 2004 Democratic National Convention Address, by Reverend Al Sharpton, July 28, 2004 143. Cindy Birdsong: Supreme Replacement, by Jim Bagley, March 16, 2007 144. A More Perfect Union Speech, Barack Obama, March 18, 2008 145. Barack Obama’s Election Day Speech, November 4, 2008 Selected Bibliography Index

639 640 641 643 644 648 651 658 666 670 673 680 689 693 703

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Preface Histories—compiled, written, and published with an intended audience and point of view—almost immediately become the natural targets of revisionists. Voices of the African American Experience, although a documents collection rather than a history, is no exception. This compiled document collection is an attempt at writing, shaping, and inventing earlier histories of Africans who came to the Americas more than ﬁve centuries ago. This book is a compilation of documents that tell the stories of enslaved Africans and a race of people who eventually came to be seen as Americans, by themselves and by others. The facts surrounding the entire history of America are not as ‘‘selfevident’’ as they once seemed. One of those facts is that some of the so-called founding fathers were also slaveowners and hypocrites at the same time that they were seen and described as revolutionaries and patriots. Voices of the African American Experience presents documents that begin with the importation of the ﬁrst slaves to the English settlement of Jamestown in Virginia. The documents used in this book span across hundreds of years from around 1620 to 2008. Many histories covering this same period, based on primary documents and other reliable sources, ask us to believe an array of presumptions about this time period. Almost from the very start of working to compile these volumes, the Greenwood editors and I began to debate the many issues surrounding publishing any book in today’s changing market and the peculiar issues related to attempting to compile such an often unwieldy collection of primary documents, including oral histories, letters, interviews, speeches, legislation, essays, articles, ﬁrst-person accounts, and more, all to represent the life and times of a people and an emerging culture we now call the African American Experience. The title alone suggests a colossal undertaking that involved too many librarians to list here; institutions, whether electronic, virtual, or found in real places such as New Haven, Virginia, Cambridge, California, and Iowa; and bibliographies of bibliographies, all consulted in an attempt to compile the most complete book of books and source of sources possible, given the constraints of time, space, and the fair use of copyrighted materials. Every publishing venture has deadlines, dates that rightly deﬁne the beginning and absolute time allotted to the production of any book, and space restrictions. The number of volumes allotted for this work is generous by almost every known standard yet an inﬁnite amount of space would be needed to adequately cover ‘‘the experience’’ of any culture. And ﬁnally, the restrictions, rights, and privileges of using material that rightfully belongs to others is always a

xiv Preface

knotty problem that can only be sorted out through a complicated process of obtaining copyright permission. It is at this juncture where the time, space, and the continuums of legal rights collide in the process of obtaining permissions. The rights to use work by the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., for example, have proven quite difﬁcult to obtain despite the fact that much of this material can be found freely enough by surﬁng the Internet. Finding it and obtaining permission to use it are not the same things. So, regrettably, many of the ﬁne, iconic speeches made by King during his brief lifetime could not be included in this set. There are other omissions as well that could not be avoided. At Western Connecticut State University in 2008, Professor Jeanne Lakatos and I spent months choosing and compiling these documents as a team, with the goal to present diverse types of documents through history and make them easily accessible for students and the general reader. We did not work alone, always continually discussing criteria for this project with colleagues, all seasoned historians, social scientists, journalists, and academics, along with the experienced editors at Greenwood Press. In the early 1980s, I studied what I now call literary archeology under Dr. Henry Louis Gates at Yale University who taught a course called Black Women and Their Fictions. Although its origin is still the debatable, it is believed that author Toni Morrison, the Nobel Prize winner, ﬁrst taught the course at Yale. Throughout the more than twenty ﬁve years that I have been working and editing books, including discovering unpublished literary works for a variety of publishers, it has always been made particularly clear to me by feminist scholars, and by African American, Asian American, and Latino American scholars, that the term ‘‘primary document’’ is a loaded phrase. While we are using a liberal Chicago Manual of Style deﬁnition, primary documents can still mean many things to many people in a country where slavery, segregation; suffrage, ideas such as afﬁrmative action and separate but equal, and the documents that liberally use these terms can still be used to skew every history of the United States ever written. Criticism in the form of questioning the reliability of sources is probably not a new complaint where minority histories or other histories regarding minority peoples and genders are concerns. There is an opposite, mirror complaint that popular histories have always excluded more obscure documents that are now gaining widespread use among academics and historians as primary sources. The oral history is just one example. Slave narratives as told to historians are another. Minority-owned and minority-operated newspapers started by W. E. B. Du Bois, Marcus Garvey, Frederick Douglass, A. Phillip Randolph and The Black Panther Party, and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People are also important sources that have generally been ignored but contain much valuable information that historians are only recently rediscovering. Tens of thousands of African American newspapers (almost all defunct now) were the social critics of the times in which they were published, and, as such, they recorded primary events that otherwise would have been left unrecorded by mainstream society. Thousands of lynchings, for example, were recorded by newspapers, large and small, not by the town clerks who were the ofﬁcial keepers of primary documents where lynchings occurred. The Northern Star, the Afro-Am, The Liberator, and the New York Amsterdam News were newspapers that announced the arrival of abolitionists. The ﬁrst person narratives of a federal writer’s project launched in the 1930s recorded the stories about the life of a riverboat worker called Coonjine, which mirror the plight of a former slave who was made famous in the novel and play

Preface

Showboat and a song called Old Man River. We are just now ﬁnding some of these documents and are ﬁnally using them in the many new histories . They tell the stories of slaves, Negroes, the colored race, the New Negro, and African Americans over long periods of time that extend back across hundreds of years. Just as it was presumed in the summer of 2008 that a mix-raced man from Chicago named Barack Obama would win the Democratic nomination for the presidency of the United States, the written history of America has always held up presumptions, masquerading them as facts. The ideal that all men in America were created equal is presumed to stem from the words of Thomas Jefferson, who was also a slave owner. No slave owner could possibly have really believed that all men were created equal. This book attempts to document how stating presumptions, such as Jefferson saying that all men are created equal, and believing them are sometimes mutually exclusive ideas. A close reading of the documents compiled in this reference book will hopefully lead the casual reader and scholarly researchers to new conclusions and new presumptions. For every leader like black activist Malcolm X, there is a movie director like Spike Lee and an FBI Director like J. Edgar Hoover who will each go to separate corners when asked to read and document some primary truths about the African American experience. To Hoover, Malcolm Little was a hustler and a villain whose militant movement posed a threat to the national security of the United States. Lee portrayed Malcolm X as a complicated, evolved visionary in the revolutionary wars of the twentieth century who helped to shape modern African American culture. These interpretations by people like Lee or Hoover are prisms of history, each viewable by some as ﬁctions that we are merely calling history. The nearly 150 documents are presented in chronological order. A brief introduction to each gives the reader some context. Further research value comes from the substantial chronology of African American history and the selected bibliography. LIONEL C. BASCOM Western Connecticut State University, 2008

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Introduction ‘‘Sails furled, ﬂag drooping at her rounded stern, she rode the tide in from the sea. She was a strange ship, indeed, by all accounts, a frightening ship, a ship of mystery,’’ wrote J. Saunders Redding, a black writer describing the landing of a slave ship to North America in 1619. Redding’s observation documents the arrival of a slave ship to the English settlement called Jamestown. ‘‘Whether she was trader, privateer or man-of-war, no one knows. Through her bulwarks black mouth cannon yawned. The ﬂag she ﬂew was Dutch; her crew a motley [bunch]. She came, she traded, and shortly afterwards was gone. Probably no ship in modern history has carried a more portentous freight. Her cargo? Twenty slaves,’’ Redding wrote in his book, They Came in Chains (1950). If accurate, Redding’s narrative captures something larger than the arrival of the ﬁrst slaves to the New World; it also marks the start of the African American and the experience of an evolving culture. Slavery and the indelible mark it left on that culture and on America are inseparable. ‘‘There is not a country in world history in which racism has been more important, for so long a time as the United States,’’ wrote historian Howard Zinn in the opening pages of his book, A People’s History of the United States, 1492-Present (1980). ‘‘And the problem of ‘the color line’ as scholar W. E. B. Du Bois put it, is still with us. Slavery developed quickly into a regular institution, into the normal labor relation of blacks to whites in the New World. With it developed that special racial feeling—whether hatred, or contempt, or pity, or patronization that accompanied the inferior position of blacks in America for the next 350 years—that combination of inferior status and derogatory thought we call racism,’’ Zinn posited. Voices of the African American Experience is not a history or commentary on racism. The Greenwood Press title, Encyclopedia of Racism in the United States (2005), edited by Pyong Gap Min, adequately covers the subject. However, this set would not be thorough without noting, as Zinn notes, that ‘‘everything in the experience of the ﬁrst white settlers acted as a pressure for the enslavement of blacks. That enslavement and the effects are the African-American experience.’’ Unshackled by civil war that freed millions of black slaves by the year 1865, living generations of former slaves, their children, and their grandchildren, then began an historic cultural migration to ﬂee feudal America. It was a trek into the future that would take the greater part of the next century. Stripped of their bonds, ex-slaves were left culturally, socially, and economically naked at the close of a war some ex-slaves described in ﬁrst person narratives as the war between the white folks. When the civil strife between free states and slave states ended, slaves found themselves free but also stripped of the paternalism and

xviii Introduction

protections against violence by masters who had valued them as personal property. Millions of emancipated slaves and their families suddenly became prey during reconstruction to widespread economic and social discrimination, vigilante violence, and a justice system that saw them as anything but equals. Laws that were passed in almost every southern state aimed to control and restrict the lives of blacks and almost immediately replaced the chains of slavery. The widespread segregation that ensued effectively barred Negroes from voting, purchasing property, and accessing adequate public schooling, employment, and the other necessities needed for the unfettered pursuit of happiness guaranteed by the U.S. Constitution. By the end of World War I and decades after emancipation, millions of black tenant farmers and laborers who could not vote in Mississippi, Virginia, South Carolina, and other southern states, boarded railroad trains by the thousands each week, bound for new lives in northern cities. This move from life on the plantations of the south to futures in urban cities became one of the great sagas in modern American history. It was a tale of two countries, two Americas, one black, the other white, one free, the other perpetually seeking freedom. It was the Exodus transported to this side of the Atlantic, seemingly plucked whole from the pages of the second book of the Old Testament in the Bible, the universal story of the Israelites’ escape from Egypt. Shaking off the taint of slavery and the stench of a corrupt reconstruction, black men and women with their families set off to do for themselves what President Abe Lincoln’s army and a nation of laws had failed to achieve for them through the Emancipation Proclamation. They left cotton ﬁelds in Georgia, orange groves in Florida, and tenant farms in Arkansas to begin the impossible task of reconstructing their lives at the turn of the twentieth century, just three decades after the emancipation. They took jobs in meatpacking plants, donned the uniforms of railroad porters and red-capped baggage handlers. Bean pickers from South Carolina became housemaids in Chicago, autoworkers in Detroit and sewing machine operators in the garment district of New York City. Calling themselves New Negroes, the participants of this great migration evolved into what would become the ﬁrst generation of a soon-to-be assimilated group who eventually began calling themselves African Americans late in the same century. Their exodus became known as the Great Migration and was ﬁrst noted in the pages of a magazine called Survey Graphic, a journal that covered social change throughout the world. A special Harlem edition of the magazine was published in 1925, edited by Howard University Professor Alain Locke. ‘‘A railroad ticket and a suitcase, like a Baghdad carpet, transport the Negro peasant from the cotton-ﬁeld and farm to the heart of the most complex urban civilization,’’ Locke wrote. ‘‘Here in the mass, he must and does survive a jump of two generations in social economy and of a century and more in civilization. Like camp followers who traipsed from place to place behind an advancing army, the black poets, students, artists, professionals, and thinkers came too.’’ This migration of blacks was numerically smaller than the migration of European immigrants who had come to America from Ireland, Italy, Germany, Russia, and elsewhere. However, the impact these black migrants had on the cities where they landed was no less signiﬁcant, Locke said. The inﬂux of African Americans, he added, transformed sections of cities, into something more than city blocks that had suddenly become ‘‘unaccountably full of black people,’’ Locke observed.

Introduction

This represented a dramatic change in American demographics and transformed places such as Harlem in New York, Chicago’s Southside, and numerous other places around America into communities of people who suddenly found themselves together and empowered by the strength of having common goals. Freedom was an elusive ideal more than it was a reality. Nowhere was this more evident than in the rural south for those who stayed behind. During and after the reconstruction years between 1865 and 1897, every state in the south looked for ways to restrict African American citizens. These unofﬁcial racial restrictions became virtual law and were bolstered [endorsed?] as the laws of the land when the U.S. Supreme Court institutionalized them in a famous Louisiana court decision, Plessy v. Ferguson, in 1896. Homer Plessy had been arrested in Louisiana for refusing to sit in a ‘‘colored’’ section of a train. He lost the case on appeal to the high court, which ruled in 1896 that separate but allegedly equal public facilities for blacks and whites were constitutional. At the beginning of the twentieth century, blacks everywhere were refused service at restaurants, movie houses, public beaches, libraries, bathrooms, hotels, and public accommodations of all kinds. This deep-seated discrimination was practiced in the North as well as in the South. But it was most stringent in the South where laws based on the Plessy court decision were passed, legitimizing this kind of bigotry. African Americans, who were forced to pay taxes in the communities where they lived, could be arrested for even trying use public bathrooms, train cars, schools, colleges, libraries, or movie houses that were reserved for ‘‘whites only.’’ These prohibitions were generally called Jim Crow laws, named after a second-rate, white minstrel show actor named Thomas Dartmouth who popularized a slow-talking, ragged, blackface character in the 1830s. Appearing in black face with various foolish sidekicks like Jim Dandy, Zip Coon, and Sambo, Dartmouth’s Jim Crow shows played in London and Dublin, and opened in New York in 1832. By 1838, the name ‘‘Jim Crow’’ itself became a racial slur for blacks in America that was as offensive as ‘‘nigger,’’ ‘‘coon’’ or ‘‘darky.’’ By 1914, on the strength of the Plessy decision, every southern state had passed Black Codes, or Jim Crow laws. These laws did more than give comfort to an old southern aesthetic. They essentially made it legal to strip emancipated blacks and their heirs of their equal rights and protection of laws enacted to protect other Americans. By 1965, however, an array of political, social, and economic movements had started throughout the United States and the true assimilation of the socalled Negro began to take hold in America. The ‘‘darky’’ label and the colored man image of former slaves and their descendants started to fade. I was born a colored person, almost always referred to by race before I became known by my surname, economic status, or even by gender as a boy growing up in New England and New York. I was a ‘‘Negro’’ or ‘‘colored’’ on my birth certiﬁcate, called ‘‘colored’’ throughout my school records, and, for all I know, my YMCA swim card noted my race before it determined whether I had passed a rigorous water safety course. I grew up in a nation where apartheid was more widespread than almost anywhere else in the world. Black and white Americans were almost never seen together in public places. While blacks and whites attended schools together in many parts of the nation, most colleges still did not accept black students. The American Medical Association routinely discriminated against blacks and restricted its

xix

xx Introduction

memberships to white doctors only, like almost all golf clubs, beach clubs, or fraternal organizations, such as the Elks and the American Legion and Veterans of Foreign Wars. In the primary schools I attended in the late 1950s and early 1960s, I read the unrevised histories of the founding fathers of the American Revolution, at the same time that the spark of what we came to call ‘‘The Revolution,’’ exploded in my neighborhood and in communities across America. What spewed forth was exhilarating, ﬁlled with new ideas about real emancipation and freedom that quickly spread like a wild ﬁre all over the nation. While I was still considered to be ‘‘a colored boy,’’ men and women of all ages and races throughout America rose up to challenge long-standing racist policies everywhere. It was a revolution that was led by ministers and politicians, scholars and labor leaders. It was the era of civil rights, and suddenly the world began to listen to the speeches of people such as the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Minister Malcolm X, Presidents John F. Kennedy and Lynden B. Johnson, Attorney General Robert ‘‘Bobby’’ Kennedy, W. E. B. DuBois and Roy Wilkins, organizers and leaders of grassroots organizations such as the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the Congress Of Racial Equality, and many other people and groups. Together, they tried to put into practice the moral imperatives of equal protections under the law, deﬁned by the founding fathers of a nation that was built with slavery as its foundation. In the 1960s, religious and political icons like Dr. Martin Luther King and brothers Robert and President John F. Kenndey led the movement. It was Martin, Bobby, John, and countless others who helped to chisel out new civil rights paradigms that transformed the life and experiences of a colored boy like me. Suddenly, the ﬂowerings of an enchanted garden in an imaginary place called Camelot became imaginable in America after 1960. This collection of documents illuminates the African American experience through history.

Chronology 1492

The ﬁrst expedition to the New World by Christopher Columbus departs Europe. A black navigator named Pedro Alonso Nino is aboard one of the vessels.

1619

The ﬁrst Africans in the New World, twenty indentured laborers, arrive in Jamestown, Virginia, aboard a Dutch ship on August 20. They are the ﬁrst blacks to be forcibly settled as involuntary laborers in the North American British Colonies.

1641

Massachusetts becomes the ﬁrst colony to legalize slavery by statute.

1663

The ﬁrst documented slave rebellion takes place in Gloucester County, Virginia on September 13.

1664

Maryland becomes the ﬁrst colony to discourage the marriage of white women to black men.

1688

The Quakers of Germantown, Pennsylvania, pass the ﬁrst formal antislavery resolution on February 18.

1712

A slave insurrection is discovered on April 16 in New York City, resulting in the execution of twenty-one African Americans.

1739

The Stono Rebellion is the ﬁrst serious insurrection to be implemented among slaves in North America on September 9. After they kill more than twenty-ﬁve whites, most of the rebels, led by a slave named Cato, are rounded up as they try to escape to Florida. More than thirty African Americans are executed.

1746

A poem called ‘‘Bar Fights,’’ is recited by Lucy Terry, a slave who lived in Massachusetts. The poem was not published until 1855.

1758

The Bluestone Church is founded in Mecklenburg, Virginia, on the plantation of William Byrd near the Bluestone River. Many believe it was the ﬁrst black church to be formed in North America.

1770

Escaped slave Crispus Attucks is one of the ﬁve victims in the Boston Massacre on March 5.

1773

Phillis Wheatley, a slave, publishes ‘‘Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral.’’ Her book is the ﬁrst published work by an African American (in England).

xxii Chronology

1775

At Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts, on April 19, free blacks ﬁght with the Minutemen in the initial skirmishes of the Revolutionary War. When some 5,000 join the ranks of white soldiers, the British governor in Virginia encourages slaves to join the British army with the promise of freedom.

1776

A little known passage in the Declaration of Independence condemning the slave trade is removed from the document when southern colonies objected.

1777

Vermont is the ﬁrst state to abolish slavery on July 2. The African Free School, designed to train African Americans for lives outside slavery, opens in New York City on November 1. George Washington reverses previous policy and allows the recruitment of African Americans as soldiers on December 31. Approximately 5,000 will participate on the American side before the end of the Revolution.

1780

Brothers John and Paul Cuffe, both free blacks, petition the Massachusetts state legislature to grant them suffrage or to stop taxing them. Though the legislature denies the petition, it paves the way for the 1783 state constitution to grant equal rights to all citizens.

1787

The Free School is founded in New York City by free blacks. Richard Allen and Absalom Jones organize the Free African Society, a mutual aid society in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on April 12. With the Northwest Ordinance on July 13, the Continental Congress forbids slavery in the region northwest of the Ohio River. Slavery is, nonetheless, implicitly protected south of the Ohio River. In September, the framers of the Constitution of the United States, in the so-called Three-Fifths Compromise, allow slaves to count as three-ﬁfths of a person in determining representation in the House of Representatives. The recovery of runaway, fugitive slaves is aided by the U.S. Constitution when it is ratiﬁed. It provides for the continuation of the slave trade for at least another twenty years and requires states to assist slave owners in recovering fugitive slaves.

1791

The ﬁrst almanac by an African American is published by Benjamin Banneker. He is subsequently appointed by President George Washington to help survey Washington, D.C.

1793

Congress passes the ﬁrst Fugitive Slave Law, February 12. Eli Whitney obtains a patent on March 14 for his cotton gin, a device that leads to the massive expansion of slavery in the South.

1794

Richard Allen founds the Bethel African Methodist Church in Philadelphia on June 10.

1797

On August 30, a slave revolt (often known as ‘‘Gabriel’s Rebellion’’) near Richmond, Virginia, lead by Gabriel Prosser and Jack Bowley, is ﬁrst postponed and then betrayed. More than forty blacks are eventually executed.

1804

The Ohio legislature on January 5 passes ‘‘Black Laws’’ designed to restrict the legal rights of free blacks. These laws are part of the trend toward

Chronology

increasingly severe restrictions on all African Americans in both the North and South before the Civil War. 1808

Federal law prohibiting the importation of African slaves takes effect on January 1. Nonetheless, illegal importation will continue for decades after the ban.

1809

The Abyssinian Baptist Church is founded in New York City.

1815

The resettlement of thirty-ﬁve African Americans in Sierra Leone is ﬁnanced by Paul Cuffe.

1816

The African Methodist Episcopal Church is organized, April 9, as the ﬁrst independent black denomination in the United States.

1818

General Andrew Jackson defeats a force of Native Americans and African Americans to end the First Seminole War on August 18.

1821

The African Company, believed to be the ﬁrst black theater company in America, is formed.

1822

The Denmark Vesey conspiracy is betrayed in Charleston, South Carolina, on May 30. Some claims estimate that 5,000 African Americans were prepared to participate.

1827

Freedom’s Journal, the ﬁrst African American newspaper, is published in New York City by John Brown Russwurm and Samuel Cornish.

1829

In September, David Walker’s militant antislavery pamphlet, An Appeal to the Colored People of the World, enters circulation in the South. This work is the ﬁrst of its kind by an African American. The ﬁrst National Negro Convention meets in Philadelphia, September 20– 24.

1831

The Nat Turner revolt, August 21–22, runs its course in Southampton County, Virginia, sending shockwaves of fear across the entire South. The Liberator, an anti-slavery newspaper published in Boston, is launched by William Lloyd Garrisons.

1839

In July, the slaves carried on the Spanish ship, Amistad, take over the vessel and sail it to Montauk on Long Island. They eventually win their freedom in a case taken to the U.S. Supreme Court.

1845

Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass: An American Slave, is published and becomes an international bestseller.

1849

Harriet Tubman escapes from slavery in July. She will return to the South at least twenty times, leading over 300 slaves to freedom.

1850

Another Fugitive Slave Act is passed by the U.S. Congress requiring government support in the capture of escaped slaves. Passage prompts widespread protests in northern cities such as Boston and New York.

1851

Abolitionist Sojourner Truth appears at an anti-slavery rally in Akron, Ohio, where she delivers her famous ‘‘Ain’t I A Woman’’ speech.

xxiii

xxiv Chronology

1852

The novel, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, is published by Harriet Beecher Stowe. Her anti-slavery novel becomes an immediate bestseller and is used to fuel protests against the Fugitive Slave Act.

1854

The Ashmun Institute, later known as Lincoln University, is chartered in Oxford, Pennsylvania, becoming one of the ﬁrst Negro colleges.

1857

The Dred Scott decision of the U.S. Supreme Court, March 6, denies that blacks are citizens of the United States and denies the power of Congress to restrict slavery in any federal territory.

1859

The ﬁrst novel by an African American, Our Nig; or Sketches from the Life of a Free Black, is published. The slave ship, Clothilde, arrives in Mobile Bay, Alabama. It is believed to be the last known ship to bring slaves from Africa to the United States. Abolitionist John Brown and his men raid the federal arsenal at Harper’s Ferry in Virginia on October 16–17 to obtain arms for a slave rebellion. Brown’s plans are foiled and he is caught. He is hanged for treason on December 2.

1861

Confederate soldiers attack Fort Sumter in Charleston, South Carolina, starting the Civil War. Fought over the issue of slavery, the war rages on for four years. The U.S. victory laid the foundation for the end of formal slavery in the United States. James Stone of Ohio enlists on August 23, becoming the ﬁrst black to ﬁght for the Union during the Civil War. He is very light skinned and married to a white woman. His racial identity is revealed after his death in 1862.

1862

Congress allows the enlistment of blacks in the Union Army on July 17. Some black units precede this date, but they were disbanded as unofﬁcial. Some 186,000 blacks will serve, and 38,000 of them will die. Slavery is abolished in the District of Columbia by the U.S. Congress, the ﬁrst signiﬁcant, legal end of slavery in American history.

1863

The Emancipation Proclamation on January 1 frees all slaves in states in rebellion against the United States and eventually shifts the goals of the war to include ending slavery. Anti-military draft riots break out in New York City where citizens object to being drafted in the federal army to abolish slavery. In the rioting, hundreds of blacks are killed by white rioters.

1864

The U.S. Congress passes legislation authorizing equal pay, equipment, arms, and health care for African American Union troops. The New Orleans Tribune begins publication on October 4, becoming the ﬁrst daily newspaper in America produced by African Americans.

1865

Union Gen. William Sherman issues his now famous ﬁeld order, allotting forty acres of land and a mule to former slaves in Georgia, South Carolina, and Florida.

Chronology

The Thirteenth Amendment, outlawing slavery, is passed by Congress on December 18. 1866

Edward G. Walker and Charles L. Mitchell are the ﬁrst blacks to sit in an American legislature, that of Massachusetts. Legislatures throughout the former Confederate states pass ‘‘Black Code,’’ bills severely limiting the freedoms of former slavess and essentially re-enslaving them in southern states. President Johnson vetoes the Civil Rights Act of 1866 but the U.S. Congress overrides his veto, bestowing citizenship upon all black Americans and guaranteeing them equal rights. The Ku Klux Klan, the white supremacist organization, is formed in Tennessee. White civilians and police kill 46 African Americans and injure many others in a massacre that takes place in Memphis between May 1–3. The mob burns down ninety houses, twelve schools, and four churches. Police in New Orleans storm a Republican meeting of blacks and whites on July 30, killing more than forty, wounding 150 others.

1867

The black citizens of the District of Columbia are granted the right to vote by the U.S. Congress, overriding a veto by President Johnson. Five traditionally black colleges are founded: Howard University in Washington, D.C.; Morgan State College; Talladega College; St. Augustine’s College; and Johnson C. Smith College.

1868

The South Carolina House on July 6 becomes the ﬁrst and only legislature to have a black majority, eighty-seven blacks to forty whites. Whites continue to control the state senate and become a majority in the state house in 1874. The Fourteenth Amendment is passed, July 28, making African Americans citizens of the United States.

1869

Ebenezer Don Carlos Bassett is appointed the minister to Haiti, making him the ﬁrst black American diplomat and the ﬁrst presidential appointee. For years thereafter this post and the diplomat to Liberia were black Americans, appointed by both Republican and Democratic administrations.

1870

Hiram R. Revels, a republican from Mississippi, becomes the ﬁrst African American U.S. Senator, although he only serves one year. The Fifteenth Amendment, which ensures suffrage to African Americans, is ratiﬁed on March 30.

1871

The Jubilee Singers of Fisk University begin their ﬁrst national tour on October 6. They travel to earn the money necessary to build the university, and become world-renowned singers of black gospel music.

1872

The ﬁrst African American governor elected by the state of Louisiana, P.B.S. Pinchback, is elected to the U.S. Congress, and the next year is elected to serve in the U.S. Senate in a disputed election.

xxv

xxvi Chronology

1875

Congress passes a Civil Rights Bill, March 1, which bans discrimination in places of public accommodation. The U.S. Supreme Court overturns the bill in 1883. Blanche Kelso Bruce, a republican from Mississippi, is elected as the ﬁrst African American U.S. senator to serve a full term. He serves six years in a seat not ﬁlled by another African American until 1969.

1877

Henry O. Flipper becomes the ﬁrst black graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point on June 15.

1881

The Tuskegee Institute is founded in Alabama to train African Americans in agriculture, industrial arts, and teaching. Booker Taliaferro Washington, a black leader of his time, becomes the ﬁrst principal of Tuskegee Institute.

1890

The National Afro-American League is founded by Timothy Thomas Fortune and eventually becomes the model for a later organization called the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.

1895

Booker T. Washington delivers the ‘‘Atlanta Compromise’’ speech at the Cotton States International Exposition in Atlanta, Georgia.

1896

With Plessy v. Ferguson on May 18, the U.S. Supreme Court gives legal backing to the concept of separate but equal public facilities for blacks.

1896

Poet Paul Lawrence Dunbar publishes Lyrics of a Lowly Life, a collection that contains some of his most important work. Dunbar is known as the poet laureate of the Negro race.

1898

A Trip to Coontown is produced by Robert Cole, the ﬁrst full-length Broadway musical written, produced, and performed by African Americans.

1901

Negro leader Booker T. Washington has dinner at the White House with President Theodore Roosevelt, making Washington the ﬁrst black American to ever dine with a sitting U.S. president at the White House.

1903

W. E. B. DuBois publishes The Souls of Black Folk. Publisher Robert S. Abbott launches the Chicago Defender, the city’s ﬁrst African American newspaper. It quickly becomes one of the largest and most inﬂuential black newspapers in the nation.

1905

W. E. B. DuBois and William Monroe Trotter are among the leaders of a meeting on July 11–13 from which springs the Niagara Movement, the forerunner of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.

1910

The National Urban League is established in April. The NAACP launches Crisis Magazine, edited by W. E. B. DuBois.

1912

On September 27, W. C. Handy publishes ‘‘Memphis Blues,’’ perhaps the earliest commercially successful ‘‘Blues’’ song.

1915

Carter G. Woodson founds the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History on September 9.

Chronology

1918

The First Pan-African Congress meets in Paris, France, under the guidance of W. E. B. DuBois, February 19–21.

1920

The national convention of Marcus Garvey’s Universal Negro Improvement Society meets in New York City, August 1–2. Garvey will be charged with mail fraud in 1923, convicted in 1925, and deported in 1927 after serving time in prison.

1922– The Harlem Renaissance, a cultural ﬂowering of black literature and art, 1929 occurs. 1925

A. Philip Randolph organizes the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters on May 8.

1926

Poet Langston Hughes publishes The Weary Blues, his ﬁrst book of poetry.

1930

The Nation of Islam, a religious movement based on separatism, is founded in Detroit by W.D. Fard.

1931

Nine young blacks are accused of raping two white women in a boxcar on April 6. They are tried for their lives in Scottsboro, Alabama, and hastily convicted. The case attracts national attention.

1936

Jesse Owens, an African American athlete, wins four gold medals at the Summer Olympics in Berlin on August 9.

1937

Joe Louis, a cultural icon among African Americans, defeats James J. Braddock on June 22 to become heavyweight boxing champion of the world.

1939

Hattie McDaniel becomes the ﬁrst African American actor to win an Academy Award as Best Supporting Actress in Gone With the Wind.

1939

Singer Marian Anderson is refused permission to sing by the Daughters of the American Revolution at their hall in Washington, D.C. In protest, she performs at the Lincoln Memorial before an audience of 75,000 people.

1940

Benjamin O. Davis, Sr., becomes the ﬁrst black general in the United States Army, October 16. Writer Richard Wright publishes a ﬁerce protest novel, Native Son, which becomes a bestseller.

1941

President Franklin D. Roosevelt issues an executive order, June 25, forbidding discrimination in defense industries after pressure from African Americans led by A. Philip Randolph. Tuskegee Institute in Alabama launches the ﬁrst training program for African American pilots, who will go on to serve heroically during the ﬁghting in World War II.

1942

Blacks and whites organize the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) in Chicago in June. They led a sit-in at a Chicago restaurant.

1944

The United Negro College Fund is founded, April 24. The ﬁrst working, production-ready model of a mechanical cotton picker is demonstrated on a farm near Clarksdale, Mississippi, on October 2.

xxvii

xxviii Chronology

1945

Ebony magazine, a general interest publication about African American life, is launched. The pastor of the Abyssinian Baptist Church in Harlem, Adam Clayton Powell, Jr., is elected to the U.S. Senate and serves eleven consecutive terms.

1947

Jackie Robinson becomes the ﬁrst black to play major league baseball, April 19.

1948

An executive order by President Truman desegregates the military.

1950

Gwendolyn Brooks becomes the ﬁrst African American to win a Pulitzer Prize for her collection of poetry, Annie Allen. Ralph J. Bunche becomes the ﬁrst person of color to win the Nobel Peace Prize, September 22. He earns the distinction for his work as a mediator in Palestine.

1952

After keeping statistics kept for 71 years, Tuskegee reports that this was the ﬁrst year with no lynchings of African Americans.

1953

Writer Ralph Ellison wins the National Book Award for his novel, Invisible Man.

1954

In Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, Kansas, the U.S. Supreme Court completes the overturning of legal school segregation at all levels, May 17.

1955

Rosa Parks refuses to change seats in a Montgomery, Alabama, bus on December 1. On December 5, African Americans begin a boycott of the bus system which continues until shortly after December 13, 1956, when the U.S. Supreme Court outlaws bus segregation in the city.

1957

The Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) is formed with Martin Luther King, Jr., as president, February 14.

1957

Congress passes the Voting Rights Bill of 1957, the ﬁrst major civil rights legislation in more than 75 years, August 29.

1959

Playwright Lorraine Hansberry’s play, Raisin in the Sun, becomes the ﬁrst dramatic play by an African American to be produced on Broadway. Motown Records is founded in Detroit, Michigan by Berry Gordy.

1960

Sit-ins in Greensboro, North Carolina, on February 1 initiate a wave of similar protests throughout the South. The Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) is founded in Raleigh, North Carolina, April 15–17.

1963

Under the leadership of Martin Luther King, Jr., African Americans began a campaign against discrimination in Birmingham, April 3. Civil rights protests take place in most major urban areas, June-August. The March on Washington, August 28, is the largest civil rights demonstration in American history. Martin Luther King, Jr., delivers his ‘‘I Have a Dream’’ speech.

Chronology

Martin Luther King Jr. writes his ‘‘Letter from a Birmingham Jail,’’ a document that he began writing on the edges of an old newspaper and later became one of the most famous statements about the civil rights movement of the twentieth century. 1964

The Twenty-fourth Amendment forbids the use of the poll tax to prevent voting, January 23. Malcolm X announces his split from Elijah Muhammad’s Nation of Islam, March 12. Beginning in Harlem, serious racial disturbances (often known as ‘‘race riots’’) occur in more than six major cities, July 18–August 30. Civil rights groups, including the NAACP, CORE, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), and others organize and carry out a massive voter registration drive in Mississippi during what became known as ‘‘Freedom Summer.’’ During that summer, three CORE workers were murdered. Over a period of ﬁve summers, the number of black voters in Mississippi rose from 7 percent to more than 65 percent. President Lyndon Johnson signs the Civil Rights Act on July 2, 1964, giving the federal government broad powers to prosecute discrimination in education, employment, and voting across the country. Martin Luther King wins the Nobel Peace Prize Boxer Cassius Clay becomes the World Heavyweight champion; announces his membership in the Nation of Islam and takes the name Muhammad Ali.

1965

The SCLC launches a voter drive in Selma, Alabama, which escalates into a nationwide protest movement, January 2. Malcolm X is assassinated in Harlem by members of the Nation of Islam, February 21. The Watts riots in Los Angeles, August 11–21, leave thirty-four dead, more than 3,500 arrested, and property damage of about $225 million dollars.

1966

The African American holiday, Kwanzaa, is invented by activist and scholar, Maulana Ron Karenga. CORE endorses the concept ‘‘Black Power.’’ SNCC also adopts it. SCLC does not, and the NAACP emphatically does not, July 1–9. The Black Panther Party is founded in October by Huey P. Newton and Bobby Seale in Oakland, California.

1967

Thurgood Marshall becomes the ﬁrst African American ever appointed to the U.S. Supreme Court. This year witnesses the worst summer for racial disturbances in United States history. More than forty riots and 100 other disturbances occur, May 1–October 1,

1968

Shirley Chisholm of New York becomes the ﬁrst African American woman to ever be elected to the U.S. Congress.

xxix

xxx Chronology

Martin Luther King, Jr., is assassinated in Memphis, Tennessee, April 4. In the following week riots occur in at least 125 places throughout the country. 1969

The U.S. Supreme Court rules that racial segregation in schools must end immediately and that unitary school systems are required, October 29.

1970

Black Enterprise, an African American business magazine, is launched and supported by a burgeoning black middle class. Kenneth Gibson becomes the ﬁrst black mayor of an Eastern city when he assumes the post in Newark, New Jersey, July 1.

1971

Operation Push, People United to Serve Humanity, a movement formed to bolster and stimulate African American economic advancement and education, is founded by the Reverend Jesse Jackson. The Congressional Black Caucus is formed by ﬁfteen members of the U.S. Congress, presenting a uniﬁed, powerful African American wing. The Southern Regional Council reports March 24 that desegregation in Southern schools is the rule, not the exception. The report also points out that the dual school system is far from dismantled.

1972

Texas Democrat Barbara Jordan becomes the ﬁrst African American woman to represent a southern state in the U.S. House of Representatives. She serves three terms.

1973

Thomas Bradley is elected the ﬁrst black mayor of Los Angeles, May 29. Maynard H. Jackson is elected the ﬁrst black mayor of Atlanta, October 16.

1974

Henry (‘‘Hank’’) Aaron hits his 715th home run, April 8, becoming the alltime leading hitter of home runs.

1977

Andrew Young becomes the ﬁrst African American to serve as the U.S. ambassador to the United Nations. February 3 marks the eighth and ﬁnal night for the miniseries based on Alex Haley’s Roots. This ﬁnal episode achieves the highest ratings ever for a single program.

1978

The U.S. Supreme Court rules against universities using ﬁxed racial quotas in making admissions decisions, a setback for afﬁrmative action to offset past discrimination, in the landmark reverse discrimination case, Regents of the University of California v. Bakke.

1980

Racial disturbances beginning on May 17 result in ﬁfteen deaths in Miami, Florida. This is the worst riot since those in Watts and Detroit in the 1960s.

1982

Lee P. Brown is named the ﬁrst black police commissioner of Houston, Texas, May 23.

1983

Writer Alice Walker’s novel, The Color Purple, wins a Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award. Vanessa Williams becomes to ﬁrst African American to win the Miss America title.

Chronology

Harold Washington wins the Democratic Party nomination for mayor of Chicago, February 23. On April 12, he wins the election for mayor. The state legislature of Louisiana repeals the last racial classiﬁcation law in the United States, June 22. The law had classiﬁed as ‘‘black’’ those with 1/32nd black ancestry. Guion (Guy) S. Bluford, Jr., is the ﬁrst black American astronaut to make a space ﬂight on board the space shuttle Challenger, August 30. President Ronald Reagan signs the bill establishing January 20 a federal holiday in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr., November 2. 1986

A bronze bust of Martin Luther King, Jr., is the ﬁrst of any black American in the halls of Congress, January 16. The ﬁrst national Martin Luther King, Jr., holiday is celebrated, January 20.

1987

Frederick Drew Gregory is the ﬁrst African American to command a space shuttle. Playwright August Wilson wins a Pulitzer Prize for his play, Fences.

1988

Jesse L. Jackson receives 1,218 delegate votes at the Democratic National Convention, July 20. The number needed for the nomination, which goes to Michael Dukakis, is 2,082. Bill Cosby announces his gift of $20,000,000 to Spelman College, November 4.

1989

General Colin L. Powell is named chair of the United States Joint Chiefs of Staff, August 10. David Dinkins is elected mayor of New York, and L. Douglas Wilder, is elected governor of Virginia, marking two landmark achievements for African American political leaders, November 7.

1990

Playwright August Wilson wins a second Pulitzer Prize for his play, The Piano Lesson.

1992

The Cosby Show broadcasts the ﬁnal original episode of its highly successful eight-season run, April 30. Jackie Joyner-Kersee is the ﬁrst woman to repeat as Olympic heptathlon champion, August 3. Mae C. Jemison is the ﬁrst black American woman in space on board the space shuttle Endeavor, September 12. Carol Moseley Braun of Illinois is the ﬁrst black woman ever elected to the U.S. Senate, November 3.

1993

M. Joycelyn Elders becomes the ﬁrst black and the ﬁrst woman U.S. Surgeon General, September 7. Toni Morrison is the ﬁrst black American to win the Nobel Prize in Literature, October 7.

1995

The Million Man March is held in Washington, D.C., October 16. The march is the idea of Nation of Islam leader Louis Farrakhan, who calls the

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event, ‘‘A Day of Atonement and Reconciliation.’’ The march is described as a call to black men to take charge in rebuilding their communities and show more respect for themselves and devotion to their families. 1997

Black American women participate October 25 in the Million Woman March in Philadelphia, focusing on health care, education, and self-help.

1998

Civil rights veteran James Farmer is one of ﬁfteen men and women awarded the Medal of Freedom from President Clinton, January 15. Born in Marshall, Texas, he was the national director of the Congress of Racial Equality during the 1960s and was one of the most inﬂuential leaders of the civil rights movement throughout its most turbulent decade. Now an annual observance, the New York Stock Exchange closes, for the ﬁrst time, in honor of the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., January 18. Track star Florence Grifﬁth Joyner dies September 21 at the age of 38. In the 1988 Seoul Olympic Games, Grifﬁth had been the ﬁrst American woman to win four track and ﬁeld medals—three gold and one silver—in one Olympic competition.

1999

Alan Keyes announces his candidacy in the Republican presidential primaries for election 2000. Keyes, a radio talk show host and a leader of the conservative movement, also ran in the 1996 presidential elections.

2000

After thirteen seasons and six NBA championships, professional basketball star Michael Jordan retires from the game, January 13. On February 25, Louis Farrakhan announces an end to the twenty-ﬁve-yearlong rift between the Nation of Islam and the Moslem American Society headed by Wallace Deen Mohammed. The groups had split in 1975 following the death of Elijah Muhammad. South Carolina governor Jim Hodges signs a bill on May 2 to make Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday an ofﬁcial state holiday. South Carolina is the last state to recognize the day as a holiday. At Wimbledon in July, tennis player Venus Williams beats her sister Serena Williams in the semiﬁnals, and then becomes the ﬁrst black woman to win the women’s title since Althea Gibson did it in 1957–58. In August the NAACP calls for a national boycott of vacation spots in South Carolina in an attempt to force the state government to remove the Confederate ﬂag from the dome of its statehouse. Controversy on this issue grows, involving the ﬂying of the Confederate ﬂag in other southern states as well. President-Elect George W. Bush announces in December the appointment of several African-Americans to his cabinet: Colin L. Powell will serve as Secretary of State, Condolezza Rice as foreign policy adviser, and Dr. Roderick Paige as Secretary of Education. A location for a national monument to Martin Luther King, Jr., on the mall in Washington, D.C., between the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument, is approved by the National Capital Planning Commission, December 2.

Chronology

2001

Representative John Conyers of Michigan reintroduces legislation in January to create a commission to study the issue of slavery reparations. Eight of the original ‘‘Freedom Riders’’ reenact their 1961 bus ride on May 12. In 1961, the civil rights protesters had ridden from Atlanta to Montgomery, stopping in facilities designated ‘‘white only,’’ in order to test the U.S. Supreme Court ruling banning racial segregation in public facilities.

2002

Halle Berry becomes the ﬁrst African American woman to receive an Academy Award for best actress, and Denzel Washington becomes only the second African American man to win in the best actor category, March 24. President George W. Bush awards comedian and actor Bill Cosby and baseball player Hank Aaron the nation’s highest civilian honor, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, July 9.

2003

The Montgomery bus on which Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat in 1955 is restored and put on display at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan, in January. The Cincinnati Bengals hire defensive coordinator Marvin Lewis as the football team’s new head coach, January 14. Lewis, Tony Dungy, and Herman Edwards are the only African American coaches in the NFL. The U.S. Supreme Court on June 23 issues decisions in two cases, Grutter v. Bollinger and Gratz v. Bollinger, which challenged the use of race in admissions policy at the University of Michigan’s Law School and the undergraduate College of Literature, Science, and the Arts. The court upholds the concept of race as one of many factors in university admission, but rejects approaches that fail to examine each student’s record on an individual basis.

2008

Barack Obama becomes the ﬁrst African American to be the presidential nominee for one of the two major parties in August. Obama becomes the ﬁrst African American to be elected president of the United States.

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VOLUME 1 1. A Narrative Of the Uncommon Sufferings, And Surprizing Delieverance Of Briton Hammon, A Negro Man,—Servant to General Winslow, Of Marshﬁeld, in New-England; Who returned to Boston, after having been absent almost Thirteen Years. Containing An Account of the many Hardships he underwent from the Time he left his Master’s House, in the Year 1747, to the Time of his Return to Boston.—How he was Cast away in the Capes of Florida;—the horrid Cruelty and inhuman Barbarity of the Indians in murdering the whole Ship’s Crew;—the Manner of his being carry’d by them into Captivity. Also, An Account of his being Conﬁned Four Years and Seven Months in a close Dungeon,—And the remarkable Manner in which he met with his good old Master in London; who returned to New-England, a Passenger, in the same Ship, 1760 BRITON HAMMON This is an insightful narrative about the life and times of a Negro named Briton Hammon that was written in the style and form of many European writers of the eighteenth century. Accounts like Hammon’s were rare in eighteenth-century America and Europe because black slaves, former slaves, and free men of color rarely had the opportunity to get an education. Accounts like this one by Hammon are extremely valuable in modern times because they are ﬁrst-person accounts of the many hardships suffered by these men and women in a world where being black made them targets of immeasurable cruelties. This account recorded a daily experience that otherwise might be lost in the fog of time and history. A NARRATIVE of the UNCOMMON SUFFERINGS, AND Surprizing DELIVERANCE OF Briton Hammon, A Negro Man,—— Servant to GENERAL WINSLOW, Of Marshﬁeld, in NEW-ENGLAND; Who returned to Boston, after having been absent almost Thirteen Years. CONTAINING An Account of the many Hardships he underwent from the Time he left his Master’s House, in the Year 1747, to the Time of his Return to Boston.—How he was Cast away in the Capes of Florida;—the horrid Cruelty and

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inhuman Barbarity of the Indians in murdering the whole Ship’s Crew;—the Manner of his being carry’d by them into Captivity. Also, An Account of his being Conﬁned Four Years and Seven Months in a close Dungeon,—And the remarkable Manner in which he met with his good old Master in London; who returned to New-England, a Passenger, in the same Ship. To THE READER, As my Capacities and Condition of Life are very low, it cannot be expected that I should make those Remarks on the Sufferings I have met with, or the kind Providence of a good GOD for my Preservation, as one in a higher Station; but shall leave that to the Reader as he goes along, and so I shall only relate Matters of Fact as they occur to my Mind— ON Monday, 25th Day of December, 1747, with the leave of my Master, I went from Marshﬁeld, with an Intention to go a Voyage to Sea, and the next Day, the 26th, got to Plymouth, where I immediately ship’d myself on board of a Sloop, Capt. John Howland, Master, bound to Jamaica and the Bay.—We sailed from Plymouth in a short Time, and after a pleasant Passage of about 30 Days, arrived at Jamaica; we was detain’d at Jamaica only 5 Days, from whence we sailed for the Bay, where we arrived safe in 10 Days. We loaded our Vessel with Logwood, and sailed from the Bay the 25th Day of May following, and the 15th Day of June, we were cast away on Cape-Florida, about 5 Leagues from the Shore; being now destitute of every Help, we knew not what to do or what Course to take in this our sad Condition:— The Captain was advised, intreated, and beg’d on, by every Person on board, to heave over but only 20 Ton of the Wood, and we should get clear, which if he had done, might have sav’d his Vessel and Cargo, and not only so, but his own Life, as well as the Lives of the Mate and Nine Hands, as I shall presently relate. After being upon this Reef two Days, the Captain order’d the Boat to be hoisted out, and then ask’d who were willing to tarry on board? The whole Crew was for going on Shore at this Time, but as the Boat would not carry 12 Persons at once, and to prevent any Uneasiness, the Captain, a Passenger, and one Hand tarry’d on board, while the Mate, with Seven Hands besides myself, were order’d to go on Shore in the Boat, which as soon as we had reached, one half were to be Landed, and the other four to return to the Sloop, to fetch the Captain and the others on Shore. The Captain order’d us to take with us our Arms, Ammunition, Provisions and Necessaries for Cooking, as also a Sail to make a Tent of, to shelter us from the Weather; after having left the Sloop we stood towards the Shore, and being within Two Leagues of the same, we espy’d a Number of Canoes, which we at ﬁrst took to be Rocks, but soon found our Mistake, for we perceiv’d they moved towards us; we presently saw an English Colour hoisted in one of the Canoes, at the Sight of which we were not a little rejoiced, but on our advancing yet nearer, we found them, to our very great Surprize, to be Indians of which there were Sixty; being now so near them we could not possibly make our Escape; they soon came up with and boarded us, took away all our Arms Ammunition, and Provision. The whole Number of CaRoes (being about Twenty,) then made for the Sloop, except Two which they left to guard us, who order’d us to follow on with them; the Eighteen which made for the Sloop, went so much faster than we that they got on board above Three Hours before we came along side, and had kill’d Captain Howland, the Passenger and the other hand; we came to the Larboard side of the Sloop, and they order’d us round to the Starboard, and as we were passing round the Bow,

1. A Narrative Of the Uncommon Sufferings … Of Briton Hammon 3

we saw the whole Number of Indians, advancing forward and loading their Guns, upon which the Mate said, ‘‘my Lads we are all dead Men,’’ and before we had got round, they discharged their Small Arms upon us, and kill’d Three of our hands, viz. Reuben Young of Cape-Cod, Mate; Joseph Little and Lemuel Doty of Plymouth, upon which I immediately jump’d overboard, chusing rather to be drowned, than to be kill’d by those barbarous and inhuman Savages. In three or four Minutes after, I heard another Volley which dispatched the other ﬁve, viz. John Nowland, and Nathaniel Rich, both belonging to Plymouth, and Elkanah Collymore, and James Webb, Strangers, and Moses Newmock, Molatto. As soon as they had kill’d the whole of the People, one of the Canoes padled after me, and soon came up with me, hawled me into the Canoe, and beat me most terribly with a Cutlass, after that they ty’d me down, then this Canoe stood for the Sloop again and as soon as she came along side, the Indians on board the Sloop betook themselves to their Canoes, then set the Vessel on Fire, making a prodigious shouting and hallowing like so many Devils. As soon as the Vessel was burnt down to the Water’s edge, the Indians stood for the Shore, together with our Boat, on board of which they put 5 hands. After we came to the Shore, they led me to their Hutts, where I expected nothing but immediate death, and as they spoke broken English, were often telling me, while coming from the Sloop to the Shore, that they intended to roast me alive. But the Providence of God order’d it otherways, for He appeared for my Help, in this Mount of Difﬁculty, and they were better to me then my Fears, and soon unbound me, but set a Guard over me every Night. They kept me with them about ﬁve Weeks, during which Time they us’d me pretty well, and gave me boil’d Corn, which was what they often eat themselves. The Way I made my Escape from these Villains was this; A Spanish Schooner arriving there from St. Augustine, the Master of which, whose Name was Romond, asked the Indians to let me go on board his Vessel, which they granted. The Way I came to know this Gentleman was, by his being taken last War by an English Privateer, and brought into Jamaica, while I was there knowing me very well, weigh’d Anchor and carry’d me off to the Havanna, and after being there four Days the Indians came after me, and insisted on having me again, as I was their Prisoner;—They made Application to the Governor, and demanded me again from him; in answer to which the Governor told them, that as they had put the whole Crew to Death, they should not have me again, and so paid them Ten Dollars for me, adding, that he would not have them kill any person hereafter, but take as many of them as they could, of those that should be cast away, and bring them to him, for which he would pay them Ten Dollars a-head. At the Havanna I lived with the Governor in the Castle about a Twelve-month, where I was walking thro’ the Street, I met with a Press-Gang who immediately prest me, and put me into Goal, and with a Number of others I was conﬁn’d till next Morning, when we were all brought out, and ask’d who would go on board the King’s Ships, four of which having been lately built, were bound to Old-Spain, and on my refusing to serve on board, they put me in a close Dungeon, where I was conﬁn’d Four Years and seven months; during which Time I often made application to the Governor, by Persons who came to see the Prisoners, but they never acquainted him with it, nor did he know all this Time what became of me, which was the means of my being conﬁn’d there so long. But kind Providence so order’d it, that after I had been in this Place so long as the Time mention’d above, the Captain of a Merchantman, belonging to Boston, having sprung a Leak was

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obliged to put into the Havanna to reﬁt, and while he was at Dinner at Mrs. Betty Howard’s, she told the Captain of my deplorable Condition, and said she would be glad, if he could by some means or other relieve me; The Captain told Mrs. Howard he would use his best Endeavours for my Relief and Enlargement. Accordingly, after Dinner, came to the Prison, and ask’d the Keeper if he might see me; upon his Request I was brought out of the Dungeon, and after the Captain had Interrogated me, told me, he would intercede with the Governor for my Relief out of that miserable Place, which he did, and the next Day the Governor sent an Order to release me; I lived with the Governor about a Year after I was delivered from the Dungeon, in which Time I endeavour’d three Times to make my Escape, the last of which proved effectual; the ﬁrst Time I got on board of Captain Marsh, an English Twenty Gun Ship, with a Number of others, and lay on board conceal’d that Night; and the next Day the Ship being under sail, I thought myself safe, and so made my Appearance upon Deck, but as soon as we were discovered the Captain ordered the Boat out, and sent us all on Shore—I intreated the Captain to let me, in particular, stay on board, begging, and crying to him, to commiserate my unhappy Condition, and added, that I had been conﬁn’d almost ﬁve Years in a close Dungeon, but the Captain would not hearken to any Intreaties, for fear of having the Governor’s Displeasure, and so was obliged to go on shore, after being on Shore another Twelve month, I endeavour’d to make my Escape the second Time, by trying to get on board of a Sloop bound to Jamaica, and as I was going from the City to the Sloop, was unhappily taken by the Guard, and ordered back to the Castle, and there conﬁned.—However, in a short Time I was set at Liberty, and order’d with a Number of others to carry the He is carried (by Way of Respect) in a large Two-arm Chair; the Chair is lin’d with crimson Velvet, and supported by eight Persons. Bishop from the Castle, thro’ the Country, to conﬁrm the old People, baptize Children, &c. for which he receives large Sums of Money.—I was employ’d in this Service about Seven Months, during which Time I lived very well, and then returned to the Castle again, where I had my Liberty to walk about the City, and do Work for my self;—The Beaver, an English Man of War then lay in the Harbour, and having been informed by some of the Ship’s Crew that she was to sail in a few Days, I had nothing now to do, but to seek an Opportunity how I should make my Escape. Accordingly one Sunday Night the Lieutenant of the Ship with a Number of the Barge Crew were in a Tavern, and Mrs. Howara who had before been a Friend to me, interceded with the Lieutenant to carry me on board: the Lieutenant said he would with all his Heart, and immediately I went on board in the Barge. The next Day the Spaniards came along side the Beaver, and demanded me again, with a Number of others who had made their Escape from them, and got on board the Ship, but just before I did; but the Captain, who was a true Englishman, refus’d them, and said he could not answer it, to deliver up any Englishmen under English Colours.—In a few Days we set Sail for Jamaica, where we arrived safe, after a short and pleasant Passage. After being at Jamaica a short Time we sail’d for London, as convoy to a Fleet of Merchantmen, who all arrived safe in the Downs, I was turned over to another Ship, the Arcenceil, and there remained about a Month. From this Ship I went on board the Sandwich of 90 Guns; on board the Sandwich, I tarry’d 6 Weeks, and then was order’d on board the Hercules, Capt. John Porter, a 74 Gun Ship, we sail’d on a Cruize, and met with a French 84 Gun Ship, and had a very smart Engagement, A particular Account of this Engagement, has been Publish’d in the Boston News-Papers in which

1. A Narrative Of the Uncommon Sufferings … Of Briton Hammon 5

about 70 of our Hands were Kill’d and Wounded, the Captain lost his Leg in the Engagement, and I was Wounded in the Head by a small Shot. We should have taken this Ship, if they had not cut away the most of our Rigging; however, in about three Hours after, a 64 Gun Ship, came up with and took her.—I was discharged from the Hercules the 12th Day of May 1759 (having been on board of that Ship 3 Months) on account of my being disabled in the Arm, and render’d incapable of Service, after being honourably paid the Wages due to me. I was put into the Greenwich Hospital where I stay’d and soon recovered.—I then ship’d myself a Cook on board Captain Martyn, an arm’d Ship in the King’s Service. I was on board this Ship almost Two Months, and after being paid my Wages, was discharg’d in the Month of October.— After my discharge from Captain Martyn, I was taken sick in London of a Fever, and was conﬁn’d about 6 Weeks, where I expended all my Money, and left in very poor Circumstances; and unhappy for me I knew nothing of my good Master’s being in London at this my very difﬁcult Time. After I got well of my sickness, I ship’d myself on board of a large Ship bound to Guinea, and being in a publick House one Evening, I overheard a Number of Persons talking about Rigging a Vessel bound to New-England, I ask’d them to what Part of New-England this Vessel was bound? they told me, to Boston; and having ask’d them who was Commander? they told me, Capt. Watt; in a few Minutes after this the Mate of the Ship came in, and I ask’d him if Captain Watt did not want a Cook, who told me he did, and that the Captain would be in, in a few Minutes; and in about half an Hour the Captain came in, and then I ship’d myself at once, after begging off from the Ship bound to Guinea; I work’d on board Captain Watt’s Ship almost Three Months, before she sail’d, and one Day being at Work in the Hold, I overheard some Persons on board mention the Name of Winslow, at the Name of which I was very inquisitive, and having ask’d what Winslow they were talking about? They told me it was General Winslow; and that he was one of the Passengers, I ask’d them what General Winslow? For I never knew my good Master, by that Title before; but after enquiring more particularly I found it must be Master, and in a few Days Time the Truth was joyfully verify’d by a happy Sight of his Person, which so overcome me, that I could not speak to him for some Time—My good Master was exceeding glad to see me, telling me that I was like one arose from the Dead, for he thought I had been Dead a great many Years, having heard nothing of me for almost Thirteen Years. I think I have not deviated from Truth, in any particular of this my Narrative, and tho’ I have omitted a great many Things, yet what is wrote may sufﬁce to convince the Reader, that I have been most grievously afﬂicted, and yet thro’ the Divine Goodness, as miraculously preserved, and delivered out of many Dangers; of which I desire to retain a grateful Remembrance, as long as I live in the World. And now, That in the Providence of that GOD, who delivered his Servant David out of the Paw of the Lion and out of the Paw of the Bear, I am freed from a long and dreadful Captivity, among worse Savages than they; And am return’d to my own Native Land, to Shew how Great Things the Lord hoth done for Me; I would call upon all Men, and Say, O Magniﬁe the Lord with Me, and let us Exalt his Name together!——O that Men would Praise the Lord for His Goodness, and for his Wonderful Works to the Children of Men! Source: Boston: Printed and Sold by Green & Russell, in Queen-Street, 1760. Early American Imprints, 1st series, no. 8611. University of Virginia Library Electronic Text Center. Copyright C Readex.

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2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life of James Albert Ukawsaw Gronniosaw, an African Prince, written by himself, 1774 This narrative was written by a woman in Europe who interviewed Gronniosaw. It is a biography, masked as an autobiography, and it enlightens us about the life of an African prince who was enslaved and lived in Europe and the United States. It is a curious narrative that falls into the category of what is now commonly called ‘‘creative nonﬁction.’’ Although the text claims that Gronniosaw wrote this account himself, such a claim is often used in the most general sense and rarely takes into account the point of view, impressions, and interpretations of a ghost writer who may have conducted an interview of the alleged writer and written the account on his behalf. The authorship of this narrative is authentic in the sense that the true writer admits her role in the preface, although she does so in a clearly contradictory fashion by, saying both that she took down what Gronniosaw told her; and that it was penned by the subject himself. This was not uncommon for the period. Nevertheless, these types of accounts are vivid testimonies that in many ways are as accurate as any other form of memoir, meaning they, too, are subject to the editing, interpretation, and perspective of editors, no matter who authored the text. In this account, Gronniosaw’s ghost writer relates a spiritual narrative in memoir form, depicting the European adventures of an African prince. ‘‘I will bring the Blind by a Way that they know not, I will lead them in Paths that they have not known: I will make Darkness Light before them and crooked Things straight. These Things will I do unto them, and not forsake them,‘‘ ISAI, xli,16. TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE THE Countess of Huntingdon, THIS NARRATIVE Of my LIFE, And of GOD’s wonderful Dealings with me, is, Through Her LADYSHIP’s Permission, Most Humbly Dedicated, By Her LADYSHIP’s Most obliged And obedient Servant, James Albert. THE PREFACE To the READER. THIS account of the life and spiritual experience of James Albert, was taken from his own mouth, and committed to paper by the elegant pen of a young Lady of the town of Leominster, for her own private satisfaction, and without any intention, at ﬁrst, that it should be made public. But she has now been prevailed on to commit it to the press, both with a view to serve Albert and his distressed family, who have the sole proﬁts arising from the sale of it; and likewise, as it is apprehended, this little history contains matter well worthy the notice and attention of every Christian reader. Perhaps we have here in some degree, a solution of that question that has perplex’d the minds of so many serious persons, viz. In what manner will God deal with those benighted parts of the world where the gospel of Jesus Christ hath never reached? Now, it appears, from the experience of this remarkable person, that God does not save without the knowledge of the truth; but, with respect to those whom he hath foreknown, though born under every outward disadvantage, and in the

2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life … of James Gronniosaw

regions of the grossest darkness and ignorance, he most amazingly acts upon, and inﬂuences, their minds, and in the course of wisely and most wonderfuly appointed providence, he brings them to the means of spiritual information, gradually opens to their view the light of his truth, and gives them full possession and enjoyment of the inestimable blessings of his gospel. Who can doubt but that the suggestion so forcibly press’d upon the mind of Albert (when a boy) that there was a Being superior to the sun, moon, and stars (the objects of African idolatry) came from the Father of lights, and was, with respect to him, the ﬁrst fruit of the display of gospel glory? His long and perilous journey to the coast of Guinea, where he was sold for a slave, and so brought into a Christian land; shall we consider this as the alone effect of a curious and inquisitive disposition? Shall we, in accounting for it refer to nothing higher than mere chance & accidental circumstances? Whatever Inﬁdels & Deists may think, I trust the Christian reader will easily discern an all wise and omnipotent appointment and direction in these movements. He belonged to the Redeemer of lost sinners; he was the purchase of his cross; and therefore the Lord undertook to bring him by a way he knew not, out of darkness into his marvellous light, that he might lead him to a saving heart-acquaintance and union with the triune God in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself; and not imputing their trespasses. As his call was very extraordinary, so there are certain particulars exceedingly remarkable in his experience. God has put singular honor upon him in the exercise of his faith and patience, which, in the most distressing and pitiable trials and calamities, have been found to the praise and glory of God. How deeply must it affect a tender heart, not only to be reduc’d to the last extremity himself, but to have his wife and children perishing for want before his eyes! Yet his faith did not fail him; he put his trust in the Lord, and he was delivered. And, at this instant, though born in an exalted station of life, and now under the Pressure of various afﬂicting Providences, I am persuaded (for I know the man) he would rather embrace the dunghill, having Christ in his heart, than give up his spiritual possessions and enjoyment, to ﬁll the throne of Princes. It perhaps may not be amiss to observe, that James Albert left his native country (as near as I can guess from certain circumstances) when he was about 15 years old. He now appears to be turn’d of 60; has a good natural understanding; is well acquainted with the scriptures, and the things of God; has an amiable and tender disposition; and his character can be well attested not only at Kidderminster, the place of his residence, but likewise by many creditable persons in London and other places. Reader, recommending this Narrative to your perusal, and him who is the subject of it, to your charitable regard, I am your faithful and obedient servant, For Christ’s sake, W. Shirley.

AN ACCOUNT OF JAMES ALBERT, &C. I WAS born in the city of Baurnou, my mother was the eldest daughter of the reigning King there. I was the youngest of six children, and particularly loved by my mother, and my grand-father almost doted on me. I had, from my infancy, a curious turn of mind; was more grave and reserved, in my disposition, than either of my brothers and sisters, I often teazed them with questions they could not answer; for

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which reason they disliked me, as they supposed that I was either foolish or insane. ‘T was certain that I was, at times, very unhappy in myself: It being strongly impressed on my mind that there was some GREAT MAN of power which resided above the sun, moon and stars, the objects of our worship.—My dear, indulgent mother would bear more with me than any of my friends beside.—I often raised my hand to heaven, and asked her who lived there? Was much dissatisﬁed when she told me the sun, moon and stars, being persuaded, in my own mind, that there must be some SUPERIOR POWER.—I was frequently lost in wonder at the works of the creation: Was afraid, and uneasy, and restless, but could not tell for what. I wanted to be informed of things that no person could tell me; and was always dissatisﬁed.— These wonderful impressions began in my childhood, and followed me continually till I left my parents, which affords me matter of admiration and thankfulness. To this moment I grew more and more uneasy every day, insomuch that one Saturday (which is the day on which we kept our sabbath) I laboured under anxieties and fears that cannot be expressed; and, what is more extraordinary, I could not give a reason for it.—I rose, as our custom is, about three o’clock (as we are obliged to be at our place of worship an hour before the sun rise) we say nothing in our worship, but continue on our knees with our hands held up, observing a strict silence till the sun is at a certain height, which I suppose to be about 10 or 11 o’clock in England: When, at a certain sign made by the Priest, we get up (our duty being over) and disperse to our different houses.—Our place of meeting is under a large palm tree; we divide ourselves into many congregations; as it is impossible for the same tree to cover the inhabitants of the whole city, though they are extremely large, high and majestic; the beauty and usefulness of them are not to be described; they supply the inhabitants of the country with meat, drink and clothes; * the body of the palm tree is very large; at a certain season of the year they tap it, and bring vessels to receive the wine, of which they draw great quantities, the quality of which is very delicious: The leaves of this tree are of a silky nature; they are large and soft; when they are dried and pulled to pieces, it has much the same appearance as the English ﬂax, and the inhabitants of BOURNOU manufacture it for clothing, &c. This tree likewise produces a plant, or substance, which has the appearance of a cabbage, and very like it, in taste almost the same: It grows between the branches. Also the palm tree produces a nut, something like a cocoa, which contains a kernel, in which is a large quantity of milk, very pleasant to the taste: The shell is of a hard substance, and of a very beautiful appearance, and serves for basons, bowls, &c. I hope this digression will be forgiven.—I was going to observe, that after the duty of our sabbath was over (on the day in which I was more distressed and afﬂicted than ever) we were all on our way home as usual, when a remarkable black cloud arose and covered the sun; then followed very heavy rain and thunder, more dreadful than ever I had heard: The heavens roared, and the earth trembled at it: I was highly affected and cast down; insomuch that I wept sadly, and could not follow my relations & friends home.—I was obliged to stop, and felt as if my legs were tied, they seemed to shake under me: So I stood still, being in great fear of the MAN of POWER, that I was persuaded, in myself, lived above. One of my young companions (who entertained a particular friendship for me, and I for him) came back to see for me: He asked me why I stood still in such very hard rain? I only said to him that my legs were weak, and I could not come faster: He was much affected to see me cry, and took me by the hand, and said he would lead me home, which he did. My

2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life … of James Gronniosaw

mother was greatly alarmed at my tarrying out in such terrible weather; she asked me many questions, such as what I did so for? And if I was well? My dear mother, says I, pray tell me who is the GREAT MAN of POWER that makes the thunder? She said, there was no power but the sun, moon and stars; that they made all our country.—I then inquired how all our people came? She answered me, from one another; and so carried me to many generations back.—Then says I, who made the ﬁrst man? And who made the ﬁrst cow, and the ﬁrst lion, and where does the ﬂy come from, as no one can make him? My mother seemed in great trouble; she was apprehensive that my senses were impaired, or that I was foolish. My father came in, and seeing her in grief asked the cause, but when she related our conversation to him he was exceedingly angry with me, and told me he would punish me severely if ever I was so troublesome again; so that I resolved never to say any thing more to him. But I grew very unhappy in myself; my relations and acquaintance endeavoured, by all the means they could think on, to divert me, by taking me to ride upon goats (which is much the custom of our country) and to shoot with a bow and arrow; but I experienced no satisfaction at all in any of these things; nor could I be easy by any means whatever: My parents were very unhappy to see me so dejected and melancholy. About this time there came a merchant from the Gold Coast (the third city in GUINEA) he traded with the inhabitants of our country in ivory, &c. he took great notice of my unhappy situation, and inquired into the cause; he expressed vast concern for me, and said, if my parents would part with me for a little while, and let him take me home with him, it would be of more service to me than any thing they could do for me.—He told me that if I would go with him I should see houses with wings to them walk upon the water, and should also see the white folks; and that he had many sons of my age, which should be my companions; and he added to all this that he would bring me safe back again soon.—I was highly pleased with the account of this strange place, and was very desirous of going.—I seemed sensible of a secret impulse upon my mind, which I could not resist, that seemed to tell me I must go. When my dear mother saw that I was willing to leave them, she spoke to my father and grandfather and the rest of my relations, who all agreed that I should accompany the merchant to the Gold Coast. I was the more willing as my brothers and sisters despised me, and looked on me with contempt on the account of my unhappy disposition; and even my servants slighted me, and disregarded all I said to them. I had one sister who was always exceeding fond of me, and I loved her entirely; her name was LOGWY, she was quite white, and fair, with ﬁne light hair, though my father and mother were black.—I was truly concerned to leave my beloved sister, and she cry’d most sadly to part with me, wringing her hands, and discovered every sign of grief that can be imagined. Indeed if I could have known when I left my friends and country that I should never return to them again my misery on that occasion would have been inexpressible. All my relations were sorry to part with me; my dear mother came with me upon a camel more than three hundred miles, the ﬁrst of our journey lay chieﬂy through woods: At night we secured ourselves from the wild beasts by making ﬁres all around us; we and our camels kept within the circle, or we must have been torn to pieces by the lions, and other wild creatures, that roared terribly as soon as night came on, and continued to do so till morning.—There can be little said in favour of the country through which we passed; only a valley of marble that we came through which is unspeakably

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beautiful.—On each side of this valley are exceedingly high and almost inaccessible mountains—Some of these pieces of marble are of prodigious length and breadth but of different sizes and colour, and shaped in a variety of forms, in a wonderful manner.—It is most of it veined with gold mixed with striking and beautiful colours; so that when the sun darts upon it, it is as pleasing a sight as can be imagined.— The merchant that brought me from BOURNOU was in partnership with another gentleman who accompanied us; he was very unwilling that he should take me from home, as, he said, he foresaw many difﬁculties that would attend my going with them.—He endeavoured to prevail on the merchant to throw me into a very deep pit that was in the valley, but he refused to listen to him, and said, he was resolved to take care of me: But the other was greatly dissatisﬁed; and when we came to a river, which we were obliged to pass through, he purposed throwing me in and drowning me; but the merchant would not consent to it, so that I was preserved. We travel’d till about four o’clock every day, and then began to make preparations for night, by cutting down large quantities of wood, to make ﬁres to preserve us from the wild beasts.—I had a very unhappy and discontented journey, being in continual fear that the people I was with would murder me. I often reﬂected with extreme regret on the kind friends I had left, and the idea of my dear mother frequently drew tears from my eyes. I cannot recollect how long we were in going from Bournou to the Gold Coast; but as there is no shipping nearer to Bournou than that city, it was tedious in travelling so far by land, being upwards of a thousand miles.— I was heartily rejoiced when we arrived at the end of our journey: I now vainly imagined that all my troubles and inquietudes would terminate here; but could I have looked into futurity, I should have perceived that I had much more to suffer than I had before experienced, and that they had as yet but barely commenced. I was now more than a thousand miles from home, without a friend or any means to procure one. Soon after I came to the merchant’s house I heard the drums beat remarkably loud, and the trumpets blow—the persons accustom’d to this employ, are oblig’d to go upon a very high structure appointed for that purpose, that the sound might be heard at a great distance: They are higher than the steeples are in England. I was mightily pleased with sounds so entirely new to me, and was very inquisitive to know the cause of this rejoicing, and asked many questions concerning it: I was answered that it was meant as a compliment to me, because I was grandson to the King of Bournou. This account gave me a secret pleasure; but I was not suffered long to enjoy this satisfaction, for, in the evening of the same day, two of the merchant’s sons (boys about my own age) came running to me, and told me, that the next day I was to die, for the King intended to behead me.—I reply’d, that I was sure it could not be true, for that I came there to play with them, and to see houses walk upon the water, with wings to them, and the white folks; but I was soon informed that their King imagined I was sent by my father as a spy, and would make such discoveries, at my return home, that would enable them to make war with the greater advantage to ourselves; and for these reasons he had resolved I should never return to my native country.—When I heard this, I suffered misery that cannot be described.—I wished, a thousand times, that I had never left my friends and country.—But still the Almighty was pleased to work miracles for me. The morning I was to die, I was washed and all my gold ornaments made bright and shining, and then carried to the palace, where the King was to behead me

2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life … of James Gronniosaw

himself (as is the custom of the place).—He was seated upon a throne at the top of an exceeding large yard, or court, which you must go through to enter the palace, it is as wide and spacious as a large ﬁeld in England.—I had a lane of life-guards to go through.—I guessed it to be about three hundred paces. I was conducted by my friend, the merchant, about half way up; then he durst proceed no further: I went up to the King alone—I went with an undaunted courage, and it pleased God to melt the heart of the King, who sat with his scymitar in his hand ready to behead me; yet, being himself so affected, he dropped it out of his hand, and took me upon his knee and wept over me. I put my right hand round his neck, and prest him to my heart.—He set me down and blest me; and added that he would not kill me, and that I should not go home, but be sold for a slave, so then I was conducted back again to the merchant’s house. The next day he took me on board a French brig; the Captain did not chuse to buy me: He said I was too small; so the merchant took me home with him again. The partner, whom I have spoken of as my enemy, was very angry to see me return, and again purposed putting an end to my life; for he represented to the other, that I should bring them into troubles and difﬁculties, and that I was so little that no person would buy me. The merchant’s resolution began to waver, and I was indeed afraid that I should be put to death: But however he said he would try me once more. A few days after a Dutch ship came into the harbour, and they carried me on board, in hopes that the Captain would purchase me.—As they went, I heard them agree, that, if they could not sell me then, they would throw me overboard.—I was in extreme agonies when I heard this; and as soon as ever I saw the Dutch Captain, I ran to him, and put my arms round him, and said, ‘‘Father save me.’’ (for I knew that if he did not buy me, I should be treated very ill, or, possibly murdered) And though he did not understand my language, yet it pleased the Almighty to inﬂuence him in my behalf, and he bought me for two yards of check, which is of more value there, than in England. When I left my dear mother I had a large quantity of gold about me, as is the custom of our country, it was made into rings, and they were linked into one another, and formed into a kind of chain, and so put round my neck, and arms and legs, and a large piece hanging at one ear almost in the shape of a pear. I found all this troublesome, and was glad when my new master took it from me.—I was now washed, & clothed in the Dutch or English manner.—My master grew very fond of me, and I loved him exceedingly. I watched every look, was always ready when he wanted me, and endeavoured to convince him, by every action, that my only pleasure was to serve him well.—I have since thought that he must have been a serious man. His actions corresponded very well with such a character.—He used to read prayers in public to the ship’s crew every sabbath day; and when ﬁrst I saw him read, I was never so surprised in my whole life as when I saw the book talk to my master; for I thought it did, as I observed him to look upon it, and move his lips.—I wished it would do so to me.—As soon as my master had done reading I follow’d him to the place where he put the book, being mightily delighted with it, and when nobody saw me, I open’d it and put my ear down close upon it, in great hope that it would say something to me; but was very sorry and greatly disappointed when I found it would not speak, this thought immediately presented itself to me, that every body and every thing despised me because I was black. I was exceedingly sea-sick at ﬁrst; but when I became more accustom’d to the sea, it wore off.—My master’s ship was bound for Barbados. When we came there,

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he thought ﬁt to speak of me to several gentlemen of his acquaintance, and one of them exprest a particular desire to see me.—He had a great mind to buy me; but the Captain could not immediately be prevail’d on to part with me; but however, as the gentleman seemed very solicitous, he at length let me go, and I was sold for ﬁfty dollars (four and six penny pieces in English.) My new master’s name was Vanborn, a young gentleman; his home was in New-England, in the city of New-York; to which place he took me with him. He dress’d me in his livery, & was very good to me. My chief business was to wait at table, and tea, & clean knives, & I had a very easy place; but the servants used to curse & swear surprizingly; which I learnt faster than any thing, ‘twas almost the ﬁrst English I could speak. If any of them affronted me, I was sure to call upon God to damn them immediately; but I was broke of it all at once, occasioned by the correction of an old black servant that lived in the family.—One day I had just clean’d the knives for dinner, when one of the maids took one to cut bread and butter with; I was very angry with her, and called upon God to damn her; when this old black man told me I must not say so: I ask’d him why? He replied there was a wicked man, call’d the Devil, that liv’d in hell, and would take all that said these words and put them in the ﬁre and burn them.—This terriﬁed me greatly, and I was entirely broke of swearing. Soon after this, as I was placing the china for tea, my mistress came into the room just as the maid had been cleaning it; the girl had unfortunately sprinkled the wainscot with the mop; at which my mistress was angry; the girl very foolishly answered her again, which made her worse, and she called upon God to damn her.—I was vastly concern’d to hear this, as she was a ﬁne young lady, and very good to me, insomuch that I could not help speaking to her: Madam, says I, you must not say so: Why, says she? Because there is a black man, call’d the Devil, that lives in hell, and he will put you in the ﬁre and burn you, and I shall be very sorry for that. Who told you this, replied my lady? Old Ned, says I. Very well was all her answer; but she told my master of it, who ordered that old Ned should be tied up and whipp’d, and was never suffered to come into the kitchen, with the rest of the servants, afterwards.—My mistress was not angry with me, but rather diverted at my simplicity, and, by way of talk, she repeated what I had said to many of her acquaintance that visited her; among the rest, Freelandhouse, a very gracious, good minister, heard it, and he took a great deal of notice of me, and desired my master to part with me to him. He would not hear of it at ﬁrst, but, being greatly persuaded, he let me go; and Mr. Freelandhouse gave [pound sterling]50 for me.—He took me home with him, and made me kneel down, and put my two hands together, and prayed for me, and every night and morning he did the same.— I could not make out what it was for, nor the meaning of it, nor what they spoke to when they talked—I thought it comical, but I liked it very well.—After I had been a little while with my new master I grew more familiar, and asked him the meaning of prayer: (I could hardly speak English to be understood) he took great pains with me, and made me understand that he pray’d to God, who liv’d in Heaven; that he was my father and best friend.—I told him that this must be a mistake; that my father lived at Bournou, and I wanted very much to see him, and likewise my dear mother, and sister, and I wished he would be so good as to send me home to them; and I added, all I could think of to induce him to convey me back, I appeared in great trouble, and my good master was so much affected that the tears run down his face. He told me that God was a great and good Spirit, that [he] created all the world, and every person and thing in it, Ethiopia, Africa and America, and every where. I

2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life … of James Gronniosaw

was delighted when I heard this: There, says I, I always thought so when I lived at home! Now, if I had wings like an eagle, I would ﬂy to tell my dear mother that God is greater than the sun, moon and stars; and that they were made by him. I was exceedingly pleas’d with this information of my master’s, because it corresponded so well with my own opinion; I thought now if I could but get home, I should be wiser than all my country-folks, my grandfather, or father, or mother, or any of them.—But though I was somewhat enlightened, by this information of my master’s, yet I had no other knowledge of God than that he was a good Spirit, and created every body, and every thing.—I never was sensible, in myself, nor had any one ever told me, that he would punish the wicked, and love the just. I was only glad that I had been told there was a God, because I had always thought so. My dear kind master grew very fond of me, as was his lady; she put me to school, but I was uneasy at that, and did not like to go; but my master and mistress requested me to learn in the gentlest terms, and persuaded me to attend my school without any anger at all; that, at last, I came to like it better, and learnt to read pretty well. My schoolmaster was a good man, his name was Vanosdore, and very indulgent to me.—I was in this state when, one Sunday, I heard my master preach from these words out of the Revelations, chap. i. v. 7. ‘‘Behold, He cometh in the clouds and every eye shall see him and they that pierc’d Him.’’ These words affected me excessively; I was in great agonies because I thought my master directed them to me only; and, I fancied, that he observed me with unusual earnestness—I was farther conﬁrm’d in this belief as I looked round the church, and could see no one person beside myself in such grief and distress as I was; I began to think that my master hated me, and was very desirous to go home, to my own country; for I thought that if God did come (as he said) He would be sure to be most angry with me, as I did not know what He was, nor had ever heard of him before. I went home in great trouble, but said nothing to any body.—I was somewhat afraid of my master; I thought he disliked me.—The next text I heard him preach from was, Heb. xii. 14. ‘‘Follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the LORD.’’ He preached the law so severely, that it made me tremble.—He said, that GOD would judge the whole world; Ethiopia, Asia, and Africa, and every where.—I was now excessively perplexed, and undetermined what to do; as I had now reason to believe that my situation would be equally bad to go as to stay.—I kept these thoughts to myself, and said nothing to any person whatever. I should have complained to my good mistress of this great trouble of mind, but she had been a little strange to me for several days before this happened, occasioned by a story told of me by one of the maids. The servants were all jealous, and envied me the regard, and favour shewn me by my master and mistress; and the Devil being always ready, and diligent in wickedness, had inﬂuenced this girl to make a lie on me.—This happened about hay harvest, and one day, when I was unloading the waggon to put the hay into the barn, she watched an opportunity, in my absence, to take the fork out of the stick, and hide it: When I came again to my work, and could not ﬁnd it, I was a good deal vexed, but I concluded it was dropt somewhere among the hay; so I went and bought another with my own money: When the girl saw that I had another, she was so malicious that she told my mistress I was very unfaithful, and not the person she took me for; and that she knew, I had, without my master’s permission, ordered many things in his name, that he must pay for; and as a proof of my carelessnes produced the fork she had taken out of the stick, and

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said, she had found it out of doors—My Lady, not knowing the truth of these things, was a little shy to me, till she mentioned it, and then I soon cleared myself, and convinced her that these accusations were false. I continued in a most unhappy state for many days. My good mistress insisted on knowing what was the matter. When I made known my situation, she gave me John Bunyan on the holy war, to read; I found his experience similar to my own, which gave me reason to suppose he must be a bad man; as I was convinced of my own corrupt nature, and the misery of my own heart: And as he acknowledged that he was likewise in the same condition, I experienced no relief at all in reading his work, but rather the reverse.—I took the book to my lady, and informed her I did not like it at all, it was concerning a wicked man as bad as myself; and I did not chuse to read it, and I desired her to give me another, wrote by a better man, that was holy, and without sin.—She assured me that John Bunyan was a good man, but she could not convince me; I thought him to be too much like myself to be upright, as his experience seemed to answer with my own. I am very sensible that nothing but the great power and unspeakable mercies of the Lord could relieve my soul from the heavy burden it laboured under at that time.—A few days after my master gave me Baxter’s Call to the Unconverted. This was no relief to me neither; on the contrary it occasioned as much distress in me as the other had before done, as it invited all to come to Christ; and I found myself so wicked and miserable that I could not come—This consideration threw me into agonies that cannot be described; insomuch that I even attempted to put an end to my life—I took one of the large case-knives, and went into the stable with an intent to destroy myself; and as I endeavoured with all my strength to force the knife into my side, it bent double. I was instantly struck with horror at the thought of my own rashness, and my conscience told me that had I succeeded in this attempt I should probably have gone to hell. I could ﬁnd no relief, nor the least shadow of comfort; the extreme distress of my mind so affected my health that I continued very ill for three days, and nights; and would admit of no means to be taken for my recovery, though my lady was very kind, and sent many things to me; but I rejected every means of relief and wished to die—I would not go into my own bed, but lay in the stable upon straw—I felt all the horrors of a troubled conscience, so hard to be born, and saw all the vengeance of God ready to overtake me—I was sensible that there was no way for me to be saved unless I came to Christ, and I could not come to Him: I thought that it was impossible He should receive such a sinner as me. The last night that I continued in this place, in the midst of my distress these words were brought home upon my mind, ‘‘Behold the Lamb of God,’’ I was something comforted at this, and began to grow easier and wished for day that I might ﬁnd these words in my bible—I rose very early the following morning, and went to my school-master, Mr. Vanosdore, and communicated the situation of my mind to him; he was greatly rejoiced to ﬁnd me inquiring the way to Zion, and blessed the Lord who had worked so wonderfully for me a poor heathen.—I was more familiar with this good gentleman than with my master, or any other person; and found my self more at liberty to talk to him: He encouraged me greatly, and prayed with me frequently, and I was always beneﬁted by his discourse. About a quarter of a mile from my master’s house stood a large, remarkably ﬁne oak-tree, in the midst of a wood; I often used to be employed there in cutting down

2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life … of James Gronniosaw

trees, (a work I was very fond of) I seldom failed going to this place every day; sometimes twice a day if I could be spared. It was the highest pleasure I ever experienced to sit under this oak; for there I used to pour out all my complaints to the LORD: And when I had any particular grievance I used to go there, and talk to the tree, and tell my sorrows, as if it had been to a friend. Here I often lamented my own wicked heart, and undone state; and found more comfort and consolation than I ever was sensible of before.—Whenever I was treated with ridicule or contempt, I used to come here and ﬁnd peace. I now began to relish the book my master gave me, Baxter’s Call to the Unconverted, and took great delight in it. I was always glad to be employed in cutting wood, ‘twas a great part of my business, and I followed it with delight, as I was then quite alone and my heart lifted up to GOD, and I was enabled to pray continually; and blessed for ever be his holy name, he faithfully answered my prayers. I can never be thankful enough to Almighty GOD for the many comfortable opportunities I experienced there It is possible the circumstance I am going to relate will not gain credit with many; but this I know, that the joy and comfort it conveyed to me, cannot be expressed, and only conceived by those who have experienced the like. I was one day in a most delightful frame of mind; my heart so overﬂowed with love and gratitude to the author of all my comforts:—I was so draw out of myself, and so ﬁll’d and awed by the presence of God, that I saw (or thought I saw) light inexpressible dart down from heaven upon me, and shone around me for the space of a minute.—I continued on my knees, and joy unspeakable took possession of my soul.—The peace and serenity which ﬁlled my mind after this was wonderful, and cannot be told.—I would not have changed situations, or been any one but myself for the whole world. I blest God for my poverty, that I had no worldly riches or grandeur to draw my heart from him. I wished at that time, if it had been possible for me, to have continued on that spot forever. I felt an unwillingness in myself to have any thing more to do with the world, or to mix with society again. I seemed to possess a full assurance that my sins were forgiven me. I went home all my way rejoicing, and this text of scripture came full upon my mind. ‘‘And I will make an everlasting covenant with them, that I will not turn away from them, to do them good; but I will put my fear in their hearts that they shall not depart from me.’’ The ﬁrst opportunity that presented itself, I went to my old schoolmaster, and made known to him the happy state of my soul who joined with me in praise to God for his mercy to me the vilest of sinners—I was now perfectly easy and had hardly a wish to make beyond what I possessed, when my temporal comforts were all blasted by the death of my dear and worthy master Mr. Freelandhouse, who was taken from this world rather suddenly: He had but a short illness, and died of a fever. I held his hand in mine when he departed; he told me he had given me my freedom. I was at liberty to go where I would.—He added that he had always prayed for me and hoped I should be kept unto the end. My master left me by his will ten pounds, and my freedom. I found that if he had lived twas his intention to take me with him to Holland, as he had often mentioned me to some friends of his there that were desirous to see me; but I chose to continue with my mistress who was as good to me as if she had been my mother. The loss of Mr. Freelandhouse distressed me greatly, but I was rendered still more unhappy by the clouded and perplexed situation of my mind; the great enemy of my soul being ready to torment me, would present my own misery to me in such striking light, and distress me with doubts, fears, and such a deep sense of my own

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unworthiness, that after all the comfort and encouragement I had received, I was often tempted to believe I should be a cast-away at last.—The more I saw of the beauty and glory of God, the more I was humbled under a sense of my own vileness. I often repaired to my old place of prayer; I seldom came away without consolation. One day this scripture was wonderfully apply’d to my mind, And ye are complete in him which is the head of all principalities and power—The Lord was pleased to comfort me by the application of many gracious promises at times when I was ready to sink under my troubles. Wherefore he is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them, Heb. x. xiv. For by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctiﬁed. My kind, indulgent mistress liv’d but two years after my master. Her death was a great afﬂiction to me. She left ﬁve sons, all gracious young men, and ministers of the gospel.—I continued with them all, one after another, till they died; they lived but four years after their parents. When it pleased God to take them to himself. I was left quite destitute, without a friend in the world. But I, who had so often experienced the goodness of God, trusted in him to do what he pleased with me.—In this helpless condition I went in the wood to prayer as usual; and though the snow was a considerable height, I was not sensible of cold, or any other inconveniency.— At times, indeed, when I saw the world frowning round me, I was tempted to think that the LORD had forsaken me. I found great relief from the contemplation of these words in Isai. xlix. 16. Behold I have graven thee on the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me. And very many comfortable promises were sweetly applied to me. The 89th Psal. and 34th ver. My covenant will I not break, nor alter the thing that is gone cut of my lips. Heb. xvi. 17, 18. Phil i. 6. and several more. As I had now lost all my dear and valued friends, every place in the world was alike to me. I had for a great while entertained a desire to come to England.—I imagined that all the inhabitants of this island were holy; because all those that had visited my master from thence were good (Mr. Whiteﬁeld was his particular friend) and the authors of the books that had been given me were all English.—But, above all places in the world, I wish’d to see Kidderminster, for I could not but think that on the spot where Mr. Baxter had lived, and preach’d, the people must be all righteous. The situation of my affairs required that I should tarry a little longer in New York, as I was something in debt, and was embarrassed how to pay it. About this time a young gentleman that was a particular acquaintance of my young master’s, pretended to be a friend to me, and promis’d to pay my debts, which was three pounds; and he assured me he would never expect the money again.—But, in less than a month, he came and demanded it; and when I assured him I had nothing to pay, he threatened to sell me.—Though I knew he had no right to do that, yet, as I had no friend in the world to go to, it alarm’d me greatly.—At length he purpos’d my going a privateering, that I might, by these means, be enabled to pay him, to which I agreed.—Our Captain’s name was——. I went in character of cook to him.—Near St. Domingo we came up to ﬁve French ships, merchantmen.—We had a very smart engagement, that continued from eight in the morning till three in the afternoon; when victory declared on our side.—Soon after this we were met by three English ships which join’d us, and that encouraged us to attack a ﬂeet of 36 ships.—We boarded the three ﬁrst, and then followed the others, and had the same success with twelve; but the rest escaped us.—There was a great deal of blood shed, and I was near death several times, but the LORD preserv’d me.

2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life … of James Gronniosaw

I met with many enemies, and much persecution, among the sailors; one of them was particularly unkind to me, and studied ways to vex and teaze me. I can’t help mentioning one circumstance that hurt me more than all the rest, which was, that he snatched a book out of my hand, that I was very fond of, and used frequently to amuse myself with, & threw it into the sea.—But, what is remarkable, he was the ﬁrst that was killed in our engagement.—I don’t pretend to say that this happened because he was not my friend; but I thought ‘twas a very awful providence, to see how the enemies of the LORD are cut off. Our Captain was a cruel, hard-hearted man. I was excessively sorry for the prisoners we took in general: But the pitiable case of one young gentleman grieved me to the heart.—He appeared very amiable; was strikingly handsome.—Our Captain took four thousand pounds from him; but that did not satisfy him, as he imagined he was possessed of more, and had somewhere concealed it, so that the Captain threatened him with death, at which he appeared in the deepest distress, and took the buckles out of his shoes, and untied his hair, which was very ﬁne, and long; and in which several very valuable rings were fastened. He came into the cabin to me, and in the most obliging terms imaginable asked for something to eat and drink; which when I gave him he was so thankful and pretty in his manner that my heart bled for him; and I heartily wished that I could have spoken in any language in which the ship’s crew would not have understood me; that I might have let him know his danger; for I heard the Captain say he was resolved upon his death; and he put his barbarous design into execution, for he took him on shore with one of the sailors, and there they shot him. This circumstance affected me exceedingly. I could not put him out of my mind a long while.—When we returned to New York the Captain divided the prize-money among us, that we had taken. When I was called upon to receive my part, I waited upon Mr.—, (the gentleman that paid my debt and was the occasion of my going abroad) to know if he chose to go with me to receive my money, or if I should bring him what I owed.—He chose to go with me; and when the Captain laid my money on the table (‘twas an hundred and thirty-ﬁve pounds) I desired Mr.—to take what I was indebted to him; and he swept it all into his handkerchief, and would never be prevailed on to give a farthing of money, nor any thing at all beside.—And he likewise secured a hogshead of sugar which was my due from the same ship. The Captain was very angry with him for this piece of cruelty to me, as was every other person that heard it.—But I have reason to believe (as he was one of the principal merchants in the city) that he transacted business for him and on that account did not chuse to quarrel with him. At this time a very worthy gentleman, a wine merchant, Dunscum, took me under his protection, and would have recovered my money for me if I had chose it; but I told him to let it alone; that I would rather be quiet.—I believed that it would not prosper with him, and so it happened, for by a series of losses and misfortunes he became poor, and was soon after drowned, as he was on a party of pleasure.—The vessel was driven out to sea, and struck against a rock by which means every soul perished. I was very much distressed when I heard it, and felt greatly for his family who were reduced to very low circumstances.—I never knew how to set a proper value on money, if I had but a little meat and drink to supply the present necessaries of life, I never wished for more; and when I had any I always gave it if ever I saw an object in distress. If it was not for my dear wife and children I should pay as little regard to money now as I did at any time.—I continued some time with Mr. Dunscum as his servant; he was very

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kind to me.—But I had a vast inclination to visit England and wished continually that it would please providence to make a clear way for me to see this island. I entertained a notion that if I could get to England I should never more experience either cruelty or ingratitude, so that I was very desirous to get among Christians. I knew Mr. Whiteﬁeld very well.—I had heard him preach often at New-York. In this disposition I listed in the twenty-eight regiment. We went in Admiral Pocock’s ﬂeet from New York to Barbados; from thence to Martinico.—When that was taken we proceeded to the Havanna, and took that place likewise.—There I got discharged. I was then worth about thirty pounds, but I never regarded money in the least, nor would I tarry to receive my prize-money lest I should lose my chance of going to England.—I went with the Spanish prisoners to Spain; and came to Old England with the English prisoners.—I cannot describe my joy when we were within sight of Portsmouth. But I was astonished when we landed to hear the inhabitants of that place curse and swear, and otherwise profane. I expected to ﬁnd nothing but goodness, gentleness and meekness in this Christian land, I then suffered great perplexities of mind. I inquired if any serious Christian people resided there, the woman I made this inquiry of, answered me in the afﬁrmative; and added that she was one of them.—I was heartily glad to hear her say so. I thought I could give her my whole heart: She kept a public house. I deposited with her all the money that I had not an immediate occasion for; as I thought it would be safer with her.—It was 25 guineas, but 6 of them I desired her to lay out to the best advantage, to buy me some shirts, hat, and some other necessaries. I made her a present of a very handsome large looking-glass, that I brought with me from Martinico, in order to recompence her for the trouble I had given her. I must do this woman the justice to acknowledge that she did lay out some little for my use, but the 19 guineas, and part of the 6, with my watch, she would not return, and denied that I ever gave it her. I soon perceived that I was got among bad people, who defrauded me of my money and watch; and that all my promis’d happiness was blasted, I had no friend but GOD, and I prayed to him earnestly. I could scarcely believe it possible that the place where so many eminent Christians had lived and preached could abound with so much wickedness and deceit. I thought it worse than Sodom (considering the great advantages they have) I cry’d like a child, and that almost continually: At length GOD heard my prayers and raised me a friend indeed. This publican had a brother who lived on Portsmouth common, his wife was a serious good woman. When she heard of the treatment I had met with, she came and inquired into my real situation, and was greatly troubled at the ill usage I had received, and took me home to her own house.—I began now to rejoice, and my prayer was turned into praise. She made use of all the arguments in her power to prevail on her who had wronged me, to return my watch and money, but it was to no purpose, as she had given me no receipt, and I had nothing to show for it, I could not demand it.—My good friend was excessively angry with her, and obliged her to give me back four guineas, which she said she gave me out of charity: Though in fact it was my own, and much more. She would have employed some rougher means to oblige her to give up my money, but I would not suffer her, let it go, says I, ‘‘My GOD is in heaven.’’ Still I did not mind my loss in the least; all that grieved me was, that I had been disappointed in ﬁnding some Christian friends, with whom I hoped to enjoy a little sweet and comfortable society. I thought the best method that I could take now, was to go to London, and ﬁnd out Mr. Whiteﬁeld, who was the only living soul I knew in England, and get him to

2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life … of James Gronniosaw

direct me to some way or other to procure a living without being troublesome to any person.—I took leave of my Christian friend at Portsmouth, and went in the stage to London.—A creditable tradesman in the city, who went up with me in the stage, offered to show me the way to Mr. Whiteﬁeld’s tabernacle. Knowing that I was a perfect stranger, I thought it very kind, and accepted his offer; but he obliged me to give him half-a-crown for going with me, and likewise insisted on my giving him ﬁve shillings more for conducting me to Dr. Gifford’s meeting. I began now to entertain a very different idea of the inhabitants of England than what I had ﬁgured to myself before I came among them.—Mr. Whiteﬁeld received me very friendly, was heartily glad to see me, and directed me to a proper place to board and lodge in Petticoat-lane, till he could think of some way to settle me in, and paid for my lodging, and all my expences. The morning after I came to my new lodging, as I was at breakfast with the gentlewoman of the house, I heard the noise of some looms over our heads: I inquired what it was; she told me a person was weaving silk.—I expressed a great desire to see it, and asked if I might: She told me she would go up with me: She was sure I should be very welcome. She was as good as her word, and as soon as we entered the room, the person that was weaving looked about, and smiled upon us, and I loved her from that moment. She asked me many questions, and I in turn talked a great deal to her. I found she was a member of Mr. Allen’s meeting, and I began to entertain a good opinion of her, though I was almost afraid to indulge this inclination, least she should prove like all the rest I had met with at Portsmouth &c. and which had almost given me a dislike to all white women.—But after a short acquaintance I had the happiness to ﬁnd she was very different, and quite sincere, and I was not without hope that she entertained some esteem for me. We often went together to hear Dr. Gifford, and as I had always a propensity to relieve every object in distress as far as I was able, I used to give to all that complained to me; sometimes half a guinea at a time, as I did not understand the real value of it.—This gracious, good woman took great pains to correct and advise me in that and many other respects. After I had been in London about six weeks I was recommended to the notice of some of my late master Mr. Freelandhouse’s acquaintance, who had heard him speak frequently of me. I was much persuaded by them to go to Holland. My master lived there before he bought me, and used to speak of me so respectfully among his friends there, that it raised in them a curiosity to see me; particularly the gentlemen engaged in the ministry, who expressed a desire to hear my experience and examine me. I found that it was my good old master’s design that I should have gone if he had lived; for which reason I resolved upon going to Holland, and informed my dear friend Mr. Whiteﬁeld of my intention; he was much averse to my going at ﬁrst, but after I gave him my reasons appeared very well satisﬁed. I likewise informed my Betty (the good woman that I have mentioned above) of my determination to go to Holland, and I told her that I believed she was to be my wife: That if it was the LORD’s will I desired it, but not else.—She made me very little answer, but has since told me, she did not think it at that time. I embarked at tower-wharf at four o’clock in the morning, and arrived at Amsterdam the next day by three o’clock in the afternoon. I had several letters of recommendation to my old master’s friends, who received me very graciously. Indeed, one of the chief ministers was particularly good to me, he kept me at his house a long while, and took great pleasure in asking questions, which I answered with delight, being always

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ready to say, ‘‘Come unto me all ye that fear GOD, and I will tell what he hath done for my soul.’’ I cannot but admire the footsteps of Providence; astonished that I should be so wonderfully preserved ! Though the grandson of a King, I have wanted bread, and should have been glad of the hardest crust I ever saw. I who, at home, was surrounded and guarded by slaves, so that no indifferent person might approach me, and clothed with gold, have been inhumanly threatened with death; and frequently wanted clothing to defend me from the inclemency of the weather; yet I never murmured, nor was I discontented.—I am willing, and even desirous, to be counted as nothing, a stranger in the world, and a pilgrim here; for ‘‘I know that my REDEEMER liveth,’’ and I’m thankful for every trial and trouble that I’ve met with, as I am not without hope that they have been all sanctiﬁed to me. The Calvinist ministers desired to hear my experience from myself, which proposal I was very well pleased with: So I stood before 48 ministers every Thursday for seven weeks together, and they were all very well satisﬁed, and persuaded I was what I pretended to be.—They wrote down my experience as I spoke it; and the Lord almighty was with me at that time in a remarkable manner, and gave me words, and enabled me to answer them; so great was his mercy to take me in hand a poor blind Heathen. At this time a very rich merchant at Amsterdam offered to take me into his family, in the capacity of his butler, and I very willingly accepted it.—He was gracious, worthy gentleman, and very good to me.—He treated me more like a friend than a servant.—I tarried there a twelvemonth, but was not thoroughly contented, I wanted to see my wife (that is now) and for that reason I wished to return to England. I wrote to her once in my absence, but she did not answer my letter; and I must acknowledge if she had, it would have given me a less opinion of her.—My master and mistress persuaded me not to leave them, and likewise their two sons, who entertained a good opinion of me; and if I had found my Betty married, on my arrival in England, I should have returned to them again immediately. My lady proposed my marrying her maid; she was an agreeable young woman, had saved a good deal of money, but I could not fancy her, though she was willing to accept of me, but I told her my inclinations were engaged in England, and I could think of no other person.—On my return home I found my Betty disengaged.—She had refused several offers in my absence, and told her sister that she thought if ever she married I was to be her husband. Soon after I came home I waited on Dr. Gifford, who took me into his family, and was exceedingly good to me. The character of this pious, worthy gentleman is well known; my praise can be of no use or signiﬁcation at all.—I hope I shall ever gratefully remember the many favours I have received from him. Soon after I came to Dr. Gifford, I expressed a desire to be admitted into their church, and set down with them; they told me I must ﬁrst be baptized; so I gave in my experience before the church, with which they were very well satisﬁed, and I was baptized by Dr. Gifford, with some others. I then made known my intentions of being married; but I found there were many objections against it, because the person I had ﬁxed on was poor. She was a widow, her husband had left her in debt, and with a child, so that they persuaded me against it out of real regard to me. But I had promised, and was resolved to have her; as I knew her to be a gracious woman, her poverty was no objection to me, as they had nothing else to say against her. When my friends found that they could not alter my opinion, respecting her, they wrote to Mr. Allen, the minister she attended, to persuade her to leave me; but he replied that he would not

2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life … of James Gronniosaw

interfere at all, that we might do as we would. I was resolved that all my wife’s little debts should be paid before we were married; so that I sold almost every thing I had, and with all the money I could raise, cleared all that she owed; and I never did any thing with a better will in all my life, because I ﬁrmly believed that we should be very happy together, and so it proved, for she was given me from the Lord. And I have found her a blessed partner, and we have never repented, though we have gone through many great troubles and difﬁculties. My wife got a very good living by weaving, and could do extremely well; but just at that time there was great disturbance among the weavers, so that I was afraid to let my wife work, least they should insist on my joining the rioters, which I could not think of, and, possibly, if I had refused to do so they would have knock’d me on the head. So that by these means my wife could get no employ, neither had I work enough to maintain my family. We had not yet been married a year before all these misfortunes overtook us. Just at this time a gentleman, that seemed much concerned for us, advised me to go into Essex with him, and promised to get me employed. I accepted his kind proposal, and he spoke to a friend of his, a Quaker, a gentleman of large fortune, who resided a little way out of the town of Colchester, his name was Handbarrar, he ordered his steward to set me to work. There were several employed in the same way with myself. I was very thankful and contented though my wages were but small. I was allowed but eight pence a day, and found myself; but after I had been in this situation for a fortnight, my master, being told that a Black was at work for him, had an inclination to see me. He was pleased to talk to me for some time, and at last inquired what wages I had; when I told him, he declared it was too little, and immediately ordered his steward to let me have eighteen pence a day, which he constantly gave me after; and I then did extremely well. I did not bring my wife with me: I came ﬁrst alone, and it was my design, if things answered according to our wishes, to send for her. I was now thinking to desire her to come to me, when I received a letter to inform me she was just brought to bed, and in want of many necessaries. This news was a great trial to me, and a fresh afﬂiction: But my God, faithful and abundant in mercy, forsook me not in this trouble. As I could not read English, I was obliged to apply to some one to read the letter I received, relative to my wife. I was directed by the good providence of God to a worthy young gentleman, a Quaker, and friend of my master.—I desired he would take the trouble to read my letter for me, which he readily complied with, and was greatly moved and affected at the contents; insomuch that he said he would undertake to make a gathering for me, which he did and was the ﬁrst to contribute to it himself. The money was sent that evening to London, by a person who happened to be going there; nor was this all the goodness that I experienced from these kind friends, for as soon as my wife came about and was ﬁt to travel, they sent for her to me, and were at the whole expence of her coming; so evidently has the love and mercy of God appeared through every trouble that ever I experienced. We went on very cordially all the summer. We lived in a little cottage near Mr. Handbarrar’s house, but when the winter came on I was discharged, as he had no further occasion for me. And now the prospect began to darken upon us again. We tho’t it most adviseable to move our habitation a little nearer to the town, as the house we lived in was very cold and wet, and ready to tumble down.

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The boundless goodness of God to me has been so very great, that, with the most humble gratitude, I desire to prostrate myself before him; for I have been wonderfully supported in every afﬂiction.—My God never left me. I perceived light still, thro’ the thickest darkness. My dear wife and I were now both unemployed, we could get nothing to do. The winter proved remarkably severe, and we were reduced to the greatess distress imaginable.—I was always very shy of asking for any thing; I could never beg; neither did I chuse to make known our wants to any person, for fear of offending, as we were entire strangers; but our last bit of bread was gone, and I was obliged to think of something to do for our support. I did not mind for myself at all; but to see my dear wife and children in want, pierc’d me to the heart.—I now blam’d myself for bringing her from London, as doubtless had we continued there we might have found friends to keep us from starving. The snow was remarkably deep; so that we could see no prospect of being relieved. In this melancholy situation, not knowing what step to pursue, I resolved to make my case known to a gentleman’s gardiner that lived near us, and entreat him to employ me; but when I came to him my courage fail’d me, and I was ashamed to make known our real situation.—I endeavoured all I could to prevail on him to set me to work, but to no purpose; he assured me it was not in his power: But just as I was about to leave him, he asked me if I would accept of some carrots? I took them with great thankfulness, and carried them home; he gave me four, they were very large and ﬁne.—We had nothing to make ﬁre with, so consequently could not boil them; but was glad to have them to eat raw. Our youngest child was quite an infant; so that my wife was obliged to chew it, and fed her in that manner for several days. We allowed ourselves but one every day, lest they should not last till we could get some other supply. I was unwilling to eat at all myself; nor would I take any the last day that we continued in this situation, as I could not bear the thought that my dear wife and children would be in want of every means of support. We lived in this manner till our carrots were all gone: Then my wife began to lament because of our poor babes; but I comforted her all I could; still hoping, and believing, that my God would not let us die; but that it would please him to relieve us, which he did by almost a miracle. We went to bed, as usual, before it was quite dark (as we had neither ﬁre nor candle) but had not been there long before some person knocked at the door, and inquired if James Albert lived there? I answer’d in the afﬁrmative, and rose immediately; as soon as I opened the door I found it was the servant of an eminent attorney who resided at Colchester. He asked me how it was with me? If I was not almost starved? I burst out a crying, and told him I was indeed. He said his master suppos’d so, and that he wanted to speak with me, and I must return with him. This gentleman’s name was Daniel, he was a sincere, good Christian. He used to stand and talk with me frequently, when I work’d in the road for Mr. Handbarrar, and would have employed me himself if I had wanted work.—When I came to his house he told me that he had thought a good deal about me of late, and was apprehensive that I must be in want, and could not be satisﬁed till he sent to inquire after me. I made known my distress to him, at which he was greatly affected; and generously gave me a guinea; and promised to be kind to me in future. I could not help exclaiming, O the boundless mercies of my God ! I prayed unto him, and he has heard me; I trusted in him, and he has preserv’d me: Where shall I begin to praise him? Or how shall I love him enough? I went immediately and bought some bread and cheese and coal

2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life … of James Gronniosaw

and carried them home. My dear wife was rejoiced to see me return with something to eat. She instantly got up and dressed our babies, while I made a ﬁre; and the ﬁrst nobility in the land never made a more comfortable meal. We did not forget to thank the Lord for all his goodness to us. Soon after this, as the spring came on, Mr. Peter Daniel employed me in pulling down a house, and rebuilding it. I had then very good work, and full employ: He sent for my wife and children to Colchester, and provided us a house, where we lived very comfortably. I hope I shall always gratefully acknowledge his kindness to myself and family. I worked at this house for more than a year, till it was ﬁnished; and after that I was employed by several successively, and was never so happy as when I had something to do; but perceiving the winter coming on, and work rather slack, I was apprehensive that we should again be in want, or become troublesome to our friends. I had at this time an offer made me of going to Norwich, and having constant employ. My wife seemed pleased with this proposal, as she supposed she might get work there in the weaving manufactory, being the business which she was brought up to, & more likely to succeed there than any other place; and we thought as we had an opportunity of moving to a town where we could both be employed, it was most adviseable to do so; and that probably we might settle there for our lives. When this step was resolved on, I went ﬁrst alone to see how it would answer; which I very much repented after, for it was not in my power immediately to send my wife any supply, as I fell into the hands of a master that was neither kind nor considerate; and she was reduced to great distress, so that she was obliged to sell the few goods that we had, and when I sent for her was under the disagreeable necessity of parting with our bed. When she came to Norwich I hired a room ready furnished—I experienced a great deal of difference in the carriage of my master from what I had been accustomed to from some of my other masters. He was very irregular in his payments to me.—My wife hired a loom and wove all the leisure time she had and we began to do very well, till we were overtaken by fresh misfortunes. Our three poor children fell ill of the small pox; this was a great trial to us; but still I was persuaded in myself we should not be forsaken.—And I did all in my power to keep my dear partner’s spirits from sinking. Her whole attention now was taken up with the children, as she could mind nothing else, and all I could get was but little to support a family in such a situation, beside paying for the hire of our room, which I was obliged to omit doing for several weeks: But the woman to whom we were indebted would not excuse us, though I promised she should have the very ﬁrst money we could get after my children came about, but she would not be satisﬁed, and had the cruelty to threaten us that if we did not pay her immediately, she would turn us all into the street. The apprehension of this plunged me in the deepest distress, considering the situation of my poor babies: If they had been in health I should have been less sensible of this misfortune. But my God, still faithful to his promise, raised me a friend. Mr. Henry Gurdney, a Quaker, a gracious gentleman heard of our distress, he sent a servant of his own to the woman we hired the room of, paid our rent, and bought all the goods, with my wife’s loom, and gave it us all. Some other gentlemen, hearing of his design, were pleased to assist him in these generous acts, for which we never can be thankful enough; after this my children soon came about; we began to do pretty well again; my dear wife worked hard and constant when she could get work, but it was upon a disagreeable footing, as her employ was so uncertain,

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sometimes she could get nothing to do, and at other times when the weavers of Norwich had orders from London, they were so excessively hurried, that the people they employed were often obliged to work on the Sabbathday: But this my wife would never do, and it was matter of uneasiness to us that we could not get our living in a regular manner, though we were both diligent, industrious, and willing to work. I was far from being happy in my master, he did not use me well. I could scarcely ever get my money from him; but I continued patient till it pleased GOD to alter my situation. My worthy friend Mr. Gurdney advised me to follow the employ of chopping chaff, and bought me an instrument for that purpose. There were but few people in the town that made this their business beside myself; so that I did very well indeed and we became easy and happy.—But we did not continue long in this comfortable state. Many of the inferior people were envious and ill-natur’d, and set up the same employ, and worked under price on purpose to get my business from me, and they succeeded so well that I could hardly get any thing to do, and became again unfortunate: Nor did this misfortune come alone, for just at this time we lost one of our little girls, who died of a fever; this circumstance occasioned us new troubles, for the Baptist minister refused to bury her because we were not their members. The parson of the parish denied us because she had never been baptized. I applied to the Quakers, but met with no success; this was one of the greatest trials I ever met with, as we did not know what to do with our poor baby—At length I resolved to dig a grave in the garden behind the hou’e, and bury her there; when the parson of the parish sent for me to tell me he would bury the child, but did not chuse to read the burial service over her. I told him I did not mind whether he would or not, as the child could not hear it. We met with a great deal of ill treatment after this, and found it very difﬁcult to live.—We could scarcely get work to do, and were obliged to pawn our clothes. We were ready to sink under our troubles.—When I proposed to my wife to go to Kidderminster, and try if we could do there. I had always an inclination for that place, and now more than ever, as I had heard Mr. Fawcet mentioned in the most respectful manner, as a pious worthy gentleman, and I had seen his name in a favourite book of mine, Baxter’s Saints Everlasting Rest; and as the manufactory of Kidderminster seemed to promise my wife some employment, she readily came into my way of thinking. I left her once more, and set out for Kidderminster in order to judge if the situation would suit us.—As soon as I came there I waited immediately on Mr. Fawcet, who was pleased to receive me very kindly and recommended me to Mr. Watson, who employed me in twisting silk and worsted together. I continued here about a fortnight, and when I thought it would answer our expectation, I returned to Norwich to fetch my wife; she was then near her time, and too much indisposed. So we were obliged to tarry until she was brought to bed, and as soon as she could conveniently travel we came to Kidderminster, but we brought nothing with us, as we were obliged to sell all we had to pay our debts, and the expences of my wife’s illness, &c. Such is our situation at present.—My wife, by hard labor at the loom, does every thing that can be expected from her towards the maintenance of our family; and God is pleased to incline the hearts of his people at times to yield us their charitable assistance; being myself through age and inﬁrmity able to contribute but little to their support. As pilgrims, and very poor pilgrims we are traveling through many difﬁculties towards our heavenly home, and waiting patiently for his glorious call, when

3. Notes on the State of Virginia, 1782 25

the Lord shall deliver us out of the evils of this present world, and bring us to the everlasting glories of the world to come.—To HIM be praise for ever and ever. Amen. Source: Bath printed: Newport, Rhode-Island, in Queen-Street 1774. Reprinted and sold by Solomon Southwick [1731–1797]. Early American Imprints, 1st series, no. 13311. University of VirC Readex. ginia Library Electronic Text Center. Copyright

3. Notes on the State of Virginia, 1782 THOMAS JEFFERSON Former President Thomas Jefferson has mostly been praised as one of the founding fathers of the American Republic. Yet he was also a slave owner who belonged to an elite group of Virginia planters who thought of themselves as ‘‘liberal slave owners.’’ The following document presents a number of contradictions about the American patriot for historians to examine more closely. For example, Jefferson was behind a vigorous legislative effort to free all slaves born after passage of a law providing for the education or colonization of slaves ‘‘in a distant area.’’ This sentiment can be found in several other movements aimed at deporting former slaves to countries and islands outside the United States, including the Caribbean and back to Africa. From a slave’s point of view Jefferson was no liberal when it came to slavery. He may have eventually realized it was wrong for a country that upheld freedom as its highest ideal to also condone slavery, but he also opposed assimilating the Negro into the general population. This dilemma does not necessarily constitute the thinking of a liberal. Jefferson supported educating some Negroes, ‘‘according to their geniuses,’’ a position which may simply have been motivated by the fact that he, like many planters, had fathered children with his slaves. On the one hand, Jefferson advocated freeing slaves, but on the other, he shared the widely held belief that race mixing was dangerous in a nation built on the backs of slaves, not liberals. He is known to have supported racist claims that compared blacks to brutish looking animals and suggested that their dark skin may have been colored by bile. Nor can Thomas Jefferson be considered a liberal by any modern standards held by African Americans. Jefferson is sometimes credited with urging caution and scientiﬁc investigation before reaching a ﬁnal conclusions on racial potentialities. However, the following notes on slavery clearly contradict any of his expressions of sympathy for the so-called ‘‘Negro’’ of his period. To the contrary, inferior characteristics often attributed to blacks throughout the period of slavery and well into the twentieth century might easily be attributed to Jefferson himself. These include cliches such as claims that Negroes were shiftless, lazy, and savage, or that they prefer to associate with whites over members of their own race. By the early 1800s, Virginian leaders looked to the organization of the American Colonization Society as a way of deporting emancipated slaves to off shore colonies that would be supported ﬁnancially by American funds. This was a position Jefferson supported. It will probably be asked, why not retain and incorporate the blacks into the state, and thus save the expense of supplying, by importation of white settlers, the

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vacancies they will leave? Deep rooted prejudices entertained by the whites; ten thousand recollections, by the blacks, of the injuries they have sustained; new provocations; the real distinctions which nature has made; and many other circumstances, will divide us into parties and produce convulsions, which will probably never end but in the extermination of the one or the other race. To these objections, which are political, may be added others, which are physical and moral. The ﬁrst difference which strikes us is that of colour. Whether the black of the Negro resides in the reticular membrane between the skin and scarf-skin, or in the scarf-skin itself; whether it proceeds from the colour of the blood, the colour of the bile, or from that of some other secretion, the difference is ﬁxed in nature, and is as real as if its seat and cause were better known to us. And is this difference of no importance? Is it not the foundation of a greater or less share of beauty in the two races? Are not the ﬁne mixtures of red and white, the expressions of every passion by greater or less suffusions of colour in the one, preferable to that eternal monotony, which reigns in the countenances, that immovable veil of black which covers all the emotions of the other race? Add to these, ﬂowing hair, a more elegant symmetry of form, their own judgment in favour of the whites, declared by their preference of them, as uniformly as is the preference of the Oranootan for the black women over those of his own species. The circumstance of Superior beauty is thought worthy attention in the propagation of our horses, dogs, and other domestic animals; why not in that of man? Besides those of colour, ﬁgure, and hair, there are other physical distinctions proving a difference of race. They have less hair on the face and body. They secrete less by the kidneys, and more by the glands of the skin, which gives them a very strong and disagreeable odour. This greater degree of transpiration renders them more tolerant of heat, and less so of cold than the whites. Perhaps, too, a difference of structure in the pulmonary apparatus, which a late ingenious 1 experimentalist has discovered to be the principal regulator of animal heat, may have disabled them from extricating, in the act of inspiration, so much of that ﬂuid from the outer air, or obliged them in expiration, to part with more of it. They seem to require less sleep. A black after hard labour through the day, will be induced by the slightest amusements to sit up till midnight, or later, though knowing he must be out with the ﬁrst dawn of the morning. They are at least as brave, and more adventuresome. But this may perhaps proceed from a want of forethought, which prevents their seeing a danger till it be present. When present, they do not go through it with more coolness or steadiness than the whites. They are more ardent after their female: but love seems with them to be more an eager desire, than a tender delicate mixture of sentiment and sensation. Their griefs are transient. Those numberless afﬂictions, which render it doubtful whether heaven has given life to us in mercy or in wrath, are less felt, and sooner forgotten with them. In general, their existence appears to participate more of sensation than reﬂection. To this must be ascribed their disposition to sleep when abstracted from their diversions, and unemployed in labour. An animal whose body is at rest, and who does not reﬂect, must be disposed to sleep of course. Comparing them by their faculties of memory, reason, and imagination, it appears to me that in memory they are equal to the whites; in reason much inferior, as I think one could scarcely be found capable of tracing and comprehending the investigations of Euclid; and that in imagination they are dull, tasteless, and anomalous. It would be unfair to follow them to Africa for this investigation.

3. Notes on the State of Virginia, 1782 27

We will consider them here, on the same stage with the whites, and where the facts are not apocryphal on which a judgment is to be formed. It will be right to make great allowances for the difference of condition, of education, of conversation, of the sphere in which they move. Many millions of them have been brought to, and born in America. Most of them indeed have been conﬁned to tillage, to their own homes, and their own society: yet many have been so situated, that they might have availed themselves of the conversation of their masters; many have been brought up to the handicraft arts, and from that circumstance have always been associated with the whites. Some have been liberally educated, and all have lived in countries where the arts and sciences are cultivated to a considerable degree, and have had before their eyes samples of the best works from abroad. The Indians, with no advantages of this kind, will often carve ﬁgures on their pipes not destitute of design and merit. They will crayon out an animal, a plant, or a country, so as to prove the existence of a germ in their minds which only wants cultivation. They astonish you with strokes of the most sublime oratory; such as prove their reason and sentiment strong, their imagination glowing and elevated. But never yet could I ﬁnd that a black had uttered a thought above the level of plain narration; never saw even an elementary trait of painting or sculpture. In music they are more generally gifted than the whites with accurate ears for tune and time… Whether they will be equal to the composition of a more extensive run of melody, or of complicated harmony, is yet to be proved. Misery is often the parent of the most affecting touches in poetry. Among the blacks is misery enough, God knows, but no poetry. Love is the peculiar oestrum of the poet. Their love is ardent, but it kindles the senses only, not the imagination. Religion indeed has produced a Phyllis Whately [sic] [Boston poet Phyllis Wheatley] but it could not produce a poet. The compositions published under her name are below the dignity of criticism. The heroes of the Dunciad are to her, as Hercules to the author of that poem. Ignatius Sancho (c. 1729—14 December 1780) was a[n] Afro-British composer, actor) has approached nearer to merit in composition; yet his letters do more honour to the heart than the head. They breathe the purest effusions of friendship and general philanthropy, and show how great a degree of the latter may be compounded with strong religious zeal. He is often happy in the turn of his compliments, and his style is easy and familiar, except when he affects a Shandean fabrication of words. But his imagination is wild and extravagant, escapes incessantly from every restraint of reason and taste, and, in the course of its vagaries, leaves a tract of thought as incoherent and eccentric, as is the course of a meteor through the sky. His subjects should often have led him to a process of sober reasoning: yet we ﬁnd him always substituting sentiment for demonstration. Upon the whole, though we admit him to the ﬁrst place among those of his own colour who have presented themselves to the public judgment, yet when we compare him with the writers of the race among whom he lived and particularly with the epistolary class, in which he has taken his own stand, we are compelled to enroll him at the bottom of the column. This criticism supposes the letters published under his name to be genuine, and to have received amendment from no other hand; points which would not be of easy investigation. The improvement of the blacks in body and mind, in the ﬁrst instance of their mixture with the whites, has been observed by every one, and proves that

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their inferiority is not the effect merely of their condition of life. We know that among the Romans, about the Augustan age especially, the condition of their slaves was much more deplorable than that of the blacks on the continent of America. The two sexes were conﬁned in separate apartments, because to raise a child cost the master more than to buy one. Cato, for a very restricted indulgence to his slaves in this particular, took from them a certain price. But in this country the slaves multiply as fast as the free inhabitants. Their situation and manners place the commerce between the two sexes almost without restraint. The same Cato, on a principle of economy, always sold his sick and superannuated slaves. He gives it as a standing precept to a master visiting his farm, to sell his old oxen, old wagons, old tools, old and diseased servants, and every thing else become useless.… The American slaves cannot enumerate this among the injuries and insults they receive. With the Romans, the regular method of taking the evidence of their slaves was under torture. Here it has been thought better never to resort to their evidence. When a master was murdered, all his slaves, in the same house, or within hearing, were condemned to death. Here punishment falls on the guilty only, and as precise proof is required against him as against a freeman. Yet notwithstanding these and other discouraging circumstances among the Romans, their slaves were often their rarest artists. They excelled too in science, insomuch as to be usually employed as tutors to their masters’ children. Epictetus, Terence, and Phaedrus, were slaves. But they were of the race of whites. It is not their condition then, but nature, which has produced the distinction. The man, in whose favour no laws of property exist, probably feels himself less bound to respect those made in favour of others. When arguing for ourselves, we lay it down as a fundamental, that laws, to be just, must give a reciprocation of right; that, without this, they are mere arbitrary rules of conduct, founded in force, and not in conscience: and it is a problem which I give to the master to solve, whether the religious precepts against the violation of property were not framed for him as well as his slave? And whether the slave may not as justiﬁably take a little from one, who has taken all from him, as he may slay one who would slay him? That a change in the relations in which a man is placed should change his ideas of moral right or wrong, is neither new, nor peculiar to the colour of the blacks. Homer tells us it was so 2600 years ago. Jove ﬁx’d it certain, that whatever day Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away. But the slaves of which Homer speaks were whites. Notwithstanding these considerations which must weaken their respect for the laws of property, we ﬁnd among them numerous instances of the most rigid integrity, and as many as among their better instructed masters, of benevolence, gratitude and unshaken ﬁdelity. The opinion, that they are inferior in the faculties of reason and imagination, must be hazarded with great difﬁdence. To justify a general conclusion, requires many observations, even where the subject may be submitted to the anatomical knife, to optical classes, to analysis by ﬁre, or by solvents. How much more then where it is a faculty, not a substance, we are examining; where it eludes the research of all the Senses; where the conditions of its existence are various and variously combined;

3. Notes on the State of Virginia, 1782 29

where the effects of those which are present or absent bid deﬁance to calculation; let me add too, as a circumstance of great tenderness, where our conclusion would degrade a whole race of men from the rank in the scale of beings which their Creator may perhaps have given them. To our reproach it must be said, that though for a century and a half we have had under our eyes the races of black and of red men, they have never yet been viewed by us as subjects of natural history. I advance it therefore as a suspicion only, that the blacks, whether originally a distinct race, or made distinct by time and circumstances, are inferior to the whites in the endowments both of body and mind. It is not against experience to suppose, that different Species of the same genus, or varieties of the same species, may possess different qualiﬁcations. Will not a lover of natural history then, one who views the gradations in all the races of animals with the eye of philosophy, excuse an effort to keep those in the department of man as distinct as nature has formed them? This unfortunate difference of colour, and perhaps of faculty, is a powerful obstacle to the emancipation of these people. Many of their advocates, while they wish to vindicate the liberty of human nature are anxious also to preserve its dignity and beauty. Some of these, embarrassed by the question ‘What further is to be done with them?’ join themselves in opposition with those who are actuated by sordid avarice only. Among the Romans emancipation required but one effort. The slave, when made free, might mix with, without staining the blood of his master. But with us a second is necessary, unknown to history. When freed, he is to be removed beyond the reach of mixture. It is difﬁcult to determine on the standard by which the manners of a nation may be tried, whether [C]atholic, or particular. It is more difﬁcult for a native to bring to that standard the manners of his own nation, familiarized to him by habit. There must doubtless be an unhappy inﬂuence on the manners of our people produced by the existence of slavery among us. The whole commerce between master and slave is a perpetual exercise of the most boisterous passions, the most unremitting despotism on the one part, and degrading submissions on the other. Our children see this, and learn to imitate it; for man is an imitative animal. This quality is the germ of all education in him. From his cradle to his grave he is learning to do what he sees others do. If a parent could ﬁnd no motive either in his philanthropy or his self love, for restraining the intemperance of passion towards his slave, it should always be a sufﬁcient one that his child is present. But generally it is not sufﬁcient. The parent storms, the child looks on, catches the lineaments of wrath, puts on the same airs in the circle of smaller slaves, gives a loose to the worst of passions, and thus nursed, educated, and daily exercised in tyranny, cannot but be stamped by it with odious pecularities. The man must be a prodigy who can retain his manners and morals undepraved by such circumstances. And with what execration should the statesman be loaded, who, permitting one half the citizens thus to trample on the rights of the other, transforms those into despots, and these into enemies, destroys the morals of the one part, and the amor patriae of the other. For if a slave can have a country in this world, it must be any other in preference to that in which he is born to live and labour for another; in which he must lock up the faculties of his nature, contribute as far as depends on his individual endeavours to the evanishment of the human race, or entail his own miserable condition on the endless generations proceeding from him. With the morals of the people, their industry also is

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destroyed. For in a warm climate, no man will labour for himself who can make another labour for him. This is so true, that of the proprietors of slaves a very small proportion indeed are ever seen to labour. And can the liberties of a nation be thought secure when we have removed their only ﬁrm basis, a conviction in the minds of the people that these liberties are of the gift of God? That they are not to be violated but with his wrath? Indeed I tremble for my country when I reﬂect that God is just: that his justice cannot sleep for ever: that considering numbers, nature and natural means only, a revolution of the wheel of fortune, an exchange of situation is among possible events: that it may become probable by supernatural interference! The almighty has no attribute which can take side with us in such a contest. But it is impossible to be temperate and to pursue this subject through the various considerations of policy, of morals, of history natural and civil. We must be contented to hope they will force their way into every one’s mind. I think a change already perceptible, since the origin of the present revolution. The spirit of the master is abating, that of the slave rising from the dust, his condition mollifying, the way I hope preparing, under the auspices of heaven, for a total emancipation, and that this is disposed, in the order of events, to be with the consent of the masters, rather than by their extirpation. Source: The Avalon Project, Yale Law School, New Haven, CT. Copyright C 1996 The Avalon Project.

4. An Address to the Negroes in the State of New-York, 1787 JUPITER HAMMON Jupiter Hammon is often referred to as ‘‘the ﬁrst black poet in America.’’ Records of his career as a poet are sketchy and records of his career are obscure, according to various accounts of his life. He was a slave on Long Island, New York, where he lived and worked for the Lloyd family in Lloyd’s Neck, not far from Queen’s Village, New York. There is speculation that Hammon was a minister before he became known as a poet, according to the Yale New Haven Teacher’s Institute. His poetic work ﬁrst began to appear in print in the 1760s. ‘‘If we should ever get to Heaven, we shall ﬁnd nobody to reproach us for being black, or for being slaves.’’ By Jupiter Hammon, servant of John Lloyd,: jun, Esq; of the Manor of Queen’s Village, Long-Island. ‘‘Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons: But in every Nation, he that feareth him and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.’’ Acts x. 34, 35. To the Members of the African Society in the city of New York Gentlemen, I take the liberty to dedicate an address to my poor brethren to you. If you think it is likely to do good among them, I do not doubt but you will take it under your care. You have discovered so much kindness and good will to those you thought were oppressed, and had no helper, that I am sure you will not despise what I have

4. An Address to the Negroes in the State of New-York, 1787 31

wrote, if you judge it will be of any service to them. I have nothing to add, but only to wish that ‘‘the blessing of many ready to perish, may come upon you.’’ I am Gentlemen, Your Servant, Jupiter Hammon To the Public: An Address to the Negroes of the State of New York When I am writing to you with a design to say something to you for your good, and with a view to promote your happiness, I can with truth and sincerity join with the apostle Paul, when speaking of his own nation the Jews, and say, ‘‘That I have great heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the ﬂesh.’’ Yes my dear brethren, when I think of you, which is very often, and of the poor, despised and miserable state you are in, as to the things of this world, and when I think of your ignorance and stupidity, and the great wickedness of the most of you, I am pained to the heart. It is at times, almost too much for human nature to bear, and I am obliged to turn my thoughts from the subject or endeavour to still my mind, by considering that it is permitted thus to be, by that God who governs all things, who seteth up one and pulleth down another. While I have been thinking on this subject, I have frequently had great struggles in my own mind, and have been at a loss to know what to do. I have wanted exceedingly to say something to you, to call upon you with the tenderness of a father and friend, and to give you the last, and I may say, dying advice, of an old man, who wishes our best good in this world, and in the world to come. But while I have had such desires, a sense of my own ignorance, and unﬁtness to teach others, has frequently discouraged me from attempting to say any thing to you; yet when I thought of your situation, I could not rest easy. When I was at Hartford in Connecticut, where I lived during the war, I published several pieces which were well received, not only by those of my own colour, but by a number of the white people, who thought they might do good among their servants. This is one consideration, among others, that emboldens me now to publish what I have written to you. Another is, I think you will be more likely to listen to what is said, when you know it comes from a negro, one your own nation and colour, and therefore can have no interest in deceiving you, or in saying any thing to you, but what he really thinks is your interest and duty to comply with. My age, I think, gives me some right to speak to you, and reason to expect you will hearken to my advice. I am now upwards of seventy years old, and cannot expect, though I am well, and able to do almost any kind of business, to live much longer. I have passed the common bounds set for man, and must soon go the way of all the earth. I have had more experience in the world than the most of you, and I have seen a great deal of the vanity, and wickedness of it. I have great reason to be thankful that my lot has been so much better than most slaves have had. I suppose I have had more advantages and privileges than most of you, who are slaves have ever known, and I believe more than many white people have enjoyed, for which I desire to bless God, and pray that he may bless those who have given them to me. I do not, my dear friends, say these things about myself to make you think that I am wiser or better than others; but that you might hearken, without prejudice, to what I have to say to you on the following particulars. Ist. Respecting obedience to masters. Now whether it is right, and lawful, in the sight of God, for them to make slaves of us or not, I am certain that while we are

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slaves, it is our duty to obey our masters, in all their lawful commands, and mind them unless we are bid to do that which we know to-be sin, or forbidden in God’s word. The apostle Paul says, ‘‘Servants be obedient to them that are your masters according to the ﬂesh, with fear and trembling in singleness in your heart as unto Christ: Not with eye service, as men pleasers, but as the servants of Christ doing the will of God from the heart: With good will doing service to the Lord, and not to men: Knowing that whatever thing a man doeth the same shall he receive of the Lord, whether he be bond or free.’’—Here is a plain command of God for us to obey our masters. It may seem hard for us, if we think our masters wrong in holding us slaves, to obey in all things, but who of us dare dispute with God! He has commanded us to obey, and we ought to do it cheerfully, and freely. This should be done by us, not only because God commands, but because our own peace and comfort depend upon it. As we depend upon our masters, for what we eat and drink and wear, and for all our comfortable things in this world, we cannot be happy, unless we please them. This we cannot do without obeying them freely, without muttering or ﬁnding fault. If a servant strives to please his master and studies and takes pains to do it, I believe there are but few masters who would use such a servant cruelly. Good servants frequently make good masters. If your master is really hard, unreasonable and cruel, there is no way so likely for you to convince him of it, as always to obey his commands, and try to serve him, and take care of his interest, and try to promote it all in your power. If you are proud and stubborn and always ﬁnding fault, your master will think the fault lies wholly on your side, but if you are humble, and meek, and bear all things patiently, your master may think he is wrong, if he does not, his neighbours will be apt to see it, and will befriend you, and try to alter his conduct. If this does not do, you must cry to him, who has the hearts of all men in his hands, and turneth them as the rivers of waters are turned. 2d: The particular I would mention, is honesty and faithfulness. You must suffer me now to deal plainly with you, my dear brethren, for I do not mean to ﬂatter, or omit speaking the truth, whether it is for you, or against you. How many of you are there who allow yourselves in stealing from your masters. It is very wicked for you not to take care of your masters goods, but how much worse is it to pilfer and steal from them, whenever you think you shall not be found out. This you must know is very wicked and provoking to God. There are none of you so ignorant, but that you must know that this is wrong. Though you may try to excuse yourselves, by saying that your masters are unjust to you, and though you may try to quiet your consciences in this way, yet if you are honest in owning the truth you must think it is as wicked, and on some accounts more wicked to steal from your masters, than from others. We cannot certainly, have any excuse either for taking any thing that belongs to our masters without their leave, or for being unfaithful in their business. It is our duty to be faithful, not with eye service as men pleasers. We have no right to stay when we are sent on errands, any longer than to do the business we were sent upon. All the time spent idly, is spent wickedly, and is unfaithfulness to our masters. In these things I must say, that I think many of you are guilty. I know that many of you endeavour to excuse yourselves, and say that you have nothing that you can call your own, and that you are under great temptations to be unfaithful and take from your masters. But this will not do, God will certainly punish you for stealing and for being unfaithful. All that we have to mind is our own duty. If God has put us in bad

4. An Address to the Negroes in the State of New-York, 1787 33

circumstances that is not our fault and he will not punish us for it. If any are wicked in keeping us so, we cannot help it, they must answer to God for it. Nothing will serve as an excuse to us for not doing our duty. The same God will judge both them and us. Pray then my dear friends, fear to offend in this way, but be faithful to God, to your masters, and to your own souls. The next thing I would mention, and warn you against, is profaneness. This you know is forbidden by God. Christ tells us, ‘‘swear not at all,’’ and again it is said ‘‘thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless, that taketh his name in vain.’’ Now though the great God has forbidden it, yet how dreadfully profane are many, and I don’t know but I may say the most of you? How common is it to hear you take the terrible and awful name of the great God in vain?—To swear by it, and by Jesus Christ, his Son—How common is it to hear yon wish damnation to your companions, and to your own souls— and to sport with in the name of Heaven and Hell, as if there were no such places for you to hope for, or to fear. Oh my friends, be warned to forsake this dreadful sin of profaneness. Pray my dear friends, believe and realize, that there is a God—that he is great and terrible beyond what you can think—that he keeps you in life every moment—and that he can send you to that awful Hell, that you laugh at, in an instant, and conﬁne you there for ever, and that he will certainly do it, if you do not repent. You certainly do not believe, that there is a God, or that there is a Heaven or Hell, or you would never triﬂe with them. It would make you shudder, if you heard others do it, if you believe them as much, as you believe any thing you see with your bodily eyes. I have heard some learned and good men say, that the heathen, and all that worshiped false Gods, never spoke lightly or irreverently of their Gods, they never took their names in vain, or jested with those things which they held sacred. Now why should the true God, who made all things, be treated worse in this respect, than those false Gods, that were made of wood and stone. I believe it is because Satan tempts men to do it. He tried to make them love their false Gods, and to speak well of them, but he wishes to have men think lightly of the true God, to take his holy name in vain, and to scoff at, and make a jest of all things that are really good. You may think that Satan has not power to do so much, and have so great inﬂuence on the minds of men: But the scripture says, ‘‘he goeth about like a roaring Lion, seeking whom he may devour—That he is the prince of the power of the air—and that he rules in the hearts of the children of disobedience,—and that wicked men are led captive by him, to do his will.’’ All those of you who are profane, are serving the Devil. You are doing what he tempts and desires you to do. If you could see him with your bodily eyes, would you like to make an agreement with him, to serve him, and do as he bid you. I believe most of you would be shocked at this, but you may be certain that all of you who allow yourselves in this sin, are as really serving him, and to just as good purpose, as if you met him, and promised to dishonor God, and serve him with all your might. Do you believe this? It is true whether you believe it or not. Some of you to excuse yourselves, may plead the example of others, and say that you hear a great many white-people, who know more, than such poor ignorant negroes, as you are, and some who are rich and great gentlemen, swear, and talk profanely; and some of you may say this of your masters, and say no more than is true. But all this is not a sufﬁcient excuse for you. You know that murder is wicked. If you saw your master kill a man, do you suppose this would be any excuse for you, if

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you should commit the same crime? You must know it would not; nor will your hearing him curse and swear, and take the name of God in vain, or any other man, be he ever so great or rich, excuse you. God is greater than all other beings, and him we are bound to obey. To him we must give an account for every idle word that we speak. He will bring us all, rich and poor, white and black, to his judgment seat. If we are found among those who feared his name, and trembled at his word, we shall be called good and faithful servants. Our slavery will be at an end, and though ever so mean, low, and despited in this world, we shall sit with God in his kingdom as Kings and Priests, and rejoice forever, and ever. Do not then, my dear friends, take God’s holy name in vain, or speak profanely in any way. Let not the example of others lead you into the sin, but reverence and fear that great and fearful name, the Lord our God. I might now caution you against other sins to which you are exposed; but as I meant only to mention those you were exposed to, more than others, by your being slaves, I will conclude what I have to say to you, by advising you to become religious, and to make religion the great business of your lives. Now I acknowledge that liberty is a great thing, and worth seeking for, if we can get it honestly, and by our good conduct, prevail on our masters to set us free: Though for my own part I do not wish to be free, yet I should be glad, if others, especially the young negroes were to be free, for many of us, who are grown up slaves, and have always had masters to take care of us, should hardly know how to take care of ourselves; and it may be more for our own comfort to remain as we are. That liberty is a great thing we may know from our own feelings, and we may likewise judge so from the conduct of the white-people, in the late war. How much money has been spent, and how many lives has been lost, to defend their liberty. I must say that I have hoped that God would open their eyes, when they were so much engaged for liberty, to think of the state of the poor blacks, and to pity us. He has done it in some measure, and has raised us up many friends, for which we have reason to be thankful, and to hope in his mercy. What may be done further, he only knows, for known unto God are all his ways from the beginning. But this my dear brethren is by no means, the greatest thing we have to be concerned about. Getting our liberty in this world, is nothing to our having the liberty of the children of God. Now the Bible tells us that we are all by nature, sinners, that we are slaves to sin and Satan, and that unless we are converted, or born again, we must be miserable forever. Christ says, except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God, and all that do not see the kingdom of God, must be in the kingdom of darkness. There are but two places where all go after death, white and black, rich and poor; those places are Heaven and Hell. Heaven is a place made for those, who are born again, and who love God, and it is a place where they will be happy for ever. Hell is a place made for those who hate God, and are his enemies, and where they will be miserable to all eternity. Now you may think you are not enemies to God, and do not hate him: But if your heart has not been changed, and you have not become true Christians, you certainly are enemies to God, and have been opposed to him ever since you were born. Many of you, I suppose, never think of this, and are almost as ignorant as the beasts that perish. Those of you who can read I must beg you to read the Bible, and whenever you can get time, study the Bible, and if you can get no other time, spare some of your time from sleep, and learn what the mind and will of God is. But what shall I say to them who cannot read. This lay

4. An Address to the Negroes in the State of New-York, 1787 35

with great weight on my mind, when I thought of writing to my poor brethren, but I hope that those who can read will take pity on them and read what I have to say to them. In hopes of this I will beg of you to spare no pains in trying to learn to read. If you are once engaged you may learn. Let all the time you can get be spent in trying to learn to read. Get those who can read to learn you, but remember, that what you learn for, is to read the Bible. If there was no Bible, it would be no matter whether you could read or not. Reading other books would do you no good. But the Bible is the word of God, and tells you what you must do to please God; it tells you how you may escape misery, and be happy for ever. If you see most people neglect the Bible, and many that can read never look into it, let it not harden you and make you think lightly of it, and that it is a book of no worth. All those who are really good, love the Bible, and meditate on it day and night. In the Bible God has told us every thing it is necessary we should know, in order to be happy here and hereafter. The Bible is a revelation of the mind and will of God to men. Therein we may learn, what God is. That he made all things by the power of his word; and that he made all things for his own glory, and not for our glory. That he is over all, and above all his creatures, and more above them that we can think or conceive—that they can do nothing without him—that he upholds them all, and will over-rule all things for his own glory. In the Bible likewise we are told what man is. That he was at ﬁrst made holy, in the image of God, that he fell from that state of holiness, and became an enemy to God, and that since the fall, all the imaginations of the thoughts of his heart, are evil and only evil, and that continually. That the carnal mind is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be. And that all mankind, were under the wrath, and curse of God, and must have been for ever miserable, if they had been left to suffer what their sins deserved. It tells us that God, to save some of mankind, sent his Son into this world to die, in the room and stead of sinners, and that now God can save from eternal misery, all that believe in his Son, and take him for their saviour, and that all are called upon to repent, and believe in Jesus Christ. It tells us that those who do repent, and believe, and are friends to Christ, shall have many trials and sufferings in this world, but that they shall be happy forever, after death, and reign with Christ to all eternity. The Bible tells us that this world is a place of trial, and that there is no other time or place for us to alter, but in this life. If we are Christians when we die, we shall awake to the resurrection of life; if not, we shall awake to the resurrection of damnation. It tells us, we must all live in Heaven or Hell, be happy or miserable, and that without end. The Bible does not tell us of but two places, for all to go to. There is no place for innocent folks, that are not Christians. There is no place for ignorant folks, that did not know how to be Christians. What I mean is, that there is no place besides Heaven and Hell. These two places, will receive all mankind, for Christ says, there are but two sorts, he that is not with me is against me, and he that gathereth not with me, scattereth abroad.—The Bible likewise tells us that this world, and all things in it shall be burnt up—and that ‘‘God has appointed a day in which he will judge the world, and that he will bring every secret thing whether it be good or bad into judgment—that which is done in secret shall be declared on the house top.’’ I do not know, nor do I think any can tell, but that the day of judgment may last a thousand years. God could tell the state of all his creatures in a moment, but then every thing that every one has done, through his whole life is to be told, before the whole world of angels, and men. There, Oh how solemn is the thought! You, and I, must stand,

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and hear every thing we have thought or done, however secret, however wicked and vile, told before all the men and women that ever have been, or ever will be, and before all the angels, good and bad. Now my dear friends seeing the Bible is the word of God, and every thing in it is true, and it reveals such awful and glorious things, what can be more important than that you should learn to read it; and when you have learned to read, that you should study it day and night. There are some things very encouraging in God’s word for such ignorant creatures as we are; for God hath not chosen the rich of this world. Not many rich, not many noble are called, but God hath chosen the weak things of this world, and things which are not, to confound the things that are: And when the great and the rich refused coming to the gospel feast, the servant was told, to go into the highways, and hedges, and compel those poor creatures that he found there to come in. Now my brethren it seems to me, that there are no people that ought to attend to the hope of happiness in another world so much as we do. Most of us are cut off from comfort and happiness here in this world, and can expect nothing from it. Now seeing this is the case, why should we not take care to be happy after death. Why should we spend our whole lives in sinning against God: And be miserable in this world, and in the world to come. If we do thus, we shall certainly be the greatest fools. We shall be slaves here, and slaves forever. We cannot plead so great temptations to neglect religion as others. Riches and honours which drown the greater part of mankind, who have the gospel, in perdition, can be little or no temptations to us. We live so little time in this world that it is no matter how wretched and miserable we are, if it prepares us for heaven. What is forty, ﬁfty, or sixty years, when compared to eternity. When thousands and millions of years have rolled away, this eternity will be no nigher coming to an end. Oh how glorious is an eternal life of happiness! And how dreadful, an eternity of misery. Those of us who have had religious masters, and have been taught to read the Bible, and have been brought by their example and teaching to a sense of divine things, how happy shall we be to meet them in heaven, where we shall join them in praising God forever. But if any of us have had such masters, and yet have lived and died wicked, how will it add to our misery to think of our folly. If any of us, who have wicked and profane masters should become religious, how will our estates be changed in another world. Oh my friends, let me entreat of you to think on these things, and to live as if you believed them to be true. If you become Christians you will have reason to bless God forever, that you have been brought into a land where you have heard the gospel, though you have been slaves. If we should ever get to Heaven, we shall ﬁnd nobody to reproach us for being black, or for being slaves. Let me beg of you my dear African brethren, to think very little of your bondage in this life, for your thinking of it will do you no good. If God designs to set us free, he will do it, in his own time, and way; but think of your bondage to sin and Satan, and do not rest, until you are delivered from it. We cannot be happy if we are ever so free or ever so rich, while we are servants of sin, and slaves to Satan. We must be miserable here, and to all eternity. I will conclude what I have to say with a few words to those negroes who have their liberty. The most of what I have said to those who are slaves may be of use to you, but you have more advantages, on some accounts, if you will improve your freedom, as you may do, than they. You have more time to read God’s holy word, and to take care of the salvation of your souls. Let me beg of you to spend

5. The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, 1789 37

your time in this way, or it will be better for you, if you had always been slaves. If you think seriously of the matter, you must conclude, that if you do not use your freedom, to promote the salvation of your souls, it will not be of any lasting good to you. Besides all this, if you are idle, and take to bad courses, you will hurt those of your brethren who are slaves, and do all in your power to prevent their being free. One great reason that is given by some for not freeing us, I understand is, that we should not know how to take care of ourselves, and should take to bad courses. That we should be lazy and idle, and get drunk and steal. Now all those of you, who follow any bad courses, and who do not take care to get an honest living by your labour and industry, are doing more to prevent our being free, than any body else. Let me beg of you then for the sake of your own good and happiness, in time, and for eternity, and for the sake of your poor brethren, who are still in bondage ‘‘to lead quiet and peaceable lives in all Godliness and honesty,’’ and may God bless you, and bring you to his kingdom, for Christ’s sake, Amen. Finis Source: New York, 1787. Published by Samuel Wood, 1806. American Memory Collection. Library of Congress Rare Book and Special Collections Division.

5. The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, 1789 Captured in Africa at the age of 11, Olaudah Equiano was sold into slavery but later acquired his freedom. In 1789, he wrote his widely read autobiography that is excerpted here. The youngest son of a village leader, Equiano was born among the Ibo people in the kingdom of Benin, along the Niger River. His family expected him to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a chief, an elder, and a judge. Slavery was an integral part of the Ibo culture, as it was with many other African peoples. Equiano’s family owned slaves, but there was also a continual threat of being abducted and becoming someone else’s slave. This is what happened, one day, while Equiano and his sister were at home alone. Two men and a woman captured the children. Several days later Equiano and his sister were separated. Equiano continued to travel farther and farther away from home, day after day, month after month, exchanging masters along the way. As it was for all slaves, the Middle Passage (the term often used for the slave routes across the Atlantic Ocean) for Equiano was a long, arduous nightmare. In his autobiography he describes the inconceivable conditions of the slaves’ hold: the ‘‘shrieks of the women,’’ the ‘‘groans of the dying,’’ the ﬂoggings, the wish to commit suicide, how those who somehow managed to drown themselves were envied. The ship ﬁnally arrived at Barbados, where buyers purchased most of the slaves. There was no buyer, however, for the young Equiano. Less than two weeks after his arrival, he was shipped off to the English colony of Virginia, where he was purchased and put to work. Less than a month later, he had a new master—Michael Henry Pascal, a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. Under this master, who owned Equiano for the next seven years, Equiano would move to England, educate himself, and travel the world on ships under Pascal’s command.

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CHAPTER 2 I hope the reader will not think I have trespassed on his patience in introducing myself to him with some account of the manners and customs of my country. They had been implanted in me with great care, and made an impression on my mind, which time could not erase, and which all the adversity and variety of fortune I have since experienced, served only to rivet and record: for, whether the love of one’s country be real or imaginary, or a lesson of reason, or an instinct of nature, I still look back with pleasure on the ﬁrst scenes of my life, though that pleasure has been for the most part mingled with sorrow. I have already acquainted the reader with the time and place of my birth. My father, besides many slaves, had a numerous family, of which seven lived to grow up, including myself and my sister, who was the only daughter. As I was the youngest of the sons, I became, of course, the greatest favorite with my mother, and was always with her; and she used to take particular pains to form my mind. I was trained up from my earliest years in the art of war: my daily exercise was shooting and throwing javelins, and my mother adorned me with emblems, after the manner of our greatest warriors. In this way I grew up till I had turned the age of eleven, when an end was put to my happiness in the following manner: Generally, when the grown people in the neighborhood were gone far in the ﬁelds to labor, the children assembled together in some of the neighboring premises to play; and commonly some of us used to get up a tree to look out for any assailant, or kidnapper, that might come upon us—for they sometimes took those opportunities of our parents’ absence, to attack and carry off as many as they could seize. One day as I was watching at the top of a tree in our yard, I saw one of those people come into the yard of our next neighbor but one, to kidnap, there being many stout young people in it. Immediately on this I gave the alarm of the rogue, and he was surrounded by the stoutest of them, who entangled him with cords, so that he could not escape, till some of the grown people came and secured him. But, alas! Ere long it was my fate to be thus attacked, and to be carried off, when none of the grown people were nigh. One day, when all our people were gone out to their works as usual, and only I and my dear sister were left to mind the house, two men and a woman got over our walls, and in a moment seized us both, and, without giving us time to cry out, or make resistance, they stopped our mouths, and ran off with us into the nearest wood. Here they tied our hands, and continued to carry us as far as they could, till night came on, when we reached a small house, where the robbers halted for refreshment, and spent the night. We were then unbound, but were unable to take any food; and, being quite overpowered by fatigue and grief, our only relief was some sleep, which allayed our misfortune for a short time. The next morning we left the house, and continued traveling all the day. For a long time we had kept the woods, but at last we came into a road which I believed I knew. I had now some hopes of being delivered; for we had advanced but a little way before I discovered some people at a distance, on which I began to cry out for their assistance; but my cries had no other effect than to make them tie me faster and stop my mouth, and then they put me into a large sack. They also stopped my sister’s mouth, and tied her hands; and in this manner we proceeded till we were out of sight of these people. When we went to rest the following night, they offered us some victuals, but we refused it; and the only comfort we had was in being in one another’s arms all that night, and bathing

5. The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, 1789 39

each other with our tears. But alas! We were soon deprived of even the small comfort of weeping together. The next day proved a day of greater sorrow than I had yet experienced; for my sister and I were then separated, while we lay clasped in each other’s arms. It was in vain that we besought them not to part us; she was torn from me, and immediately carried away, while I was left in a state of distraction not to be described. I cried and grieved continually; and for several days did not eat anything but what they forced into my mouth. At length, after many days’ traveling, during which I had often changed masters, I got into the hands of a chieftain, in a very pleasant country. This man had two wives and some children, and they all used me extremely well, and did all they could do to comfort me; particularly the ﬁrst wife, who was something like my mother. Although I was a great many days’ journey from my father’s house, yet these people spoke exactly the same language with us. This ﬁrst master of mine, as I may call him, was a smith, and my principal employment was working his bellows, which were the same kind as I had seen in my vicinity. They were in some respects not unlike the stoves here in gentlemen’s kitchens, and were covered over with leather; and in the middle of that leather a stick was ﬁxed, and a person stood up, and worked it in the same manner as is done to pump water out of a cask with a hand pump. I believe it was gold he worked, for it was of a lovely bright yellow color, and was worn by the women on their wrists and ankles. I was there I suppose about a month, and they at last used to trust me some little distance from the house. This liberty I used in embracing every opportunity to inquire the way to my own home; and I also sometimes, for the same purpose, went with the maidens, in the cool of the evenings, to bring pitchers of water from the springs for the use of the house. I had also remarked where the sun rose in the morning, and set in the evening, as I had travelled along; and I had observed that my father’s house was towards the rising of the sun. I therefore determined to seize the ﬁrst opportunity of making my escape, and to shape my course for that quarter; for I was quite oppressed and weighed down by grief after my mother and friends; and my love of liberty, ever great, was strengthened by the mortifying circumstance of not daring to eat with the free-born children, although I was mostly their companion. While I was projecting my escape, one day an unlucky event happened, which quite disconcerted my plan, and put an end to my hopes. I used to be sometimes employed in assisting an elderly slave to cook and take care of the poultry; and one morning, while I was feeding some chickens, I happened to toss a small pebble at one of them, which hit it on the middle, and directly killed it. The old slave, having soon after missed the chicken, inquired after it; and on my relating the accident (for I told her the truth, for my mother would never suffer me to tell a lie), she ﬂew into a violent passion, and threatened that I should suffer for it; and, my master being out, she immediately went and told her mistress what I had done. This alarmed me very much, and I expected an instant ﬂogging, which to me was uncommoray dreadful, for I had seldom been beaten at home. I therefore resolved to ﬂy; and accordingly I ran into a thicket that was hard by, and hid myself in the bushes. Soon afterwards my mistress and the slave returned, and, not seeing me, they searched all the house, but not ﬁnding me, and I not making answer when they called to me, they thought I had run away, and the whole neighborhood was raised in the pursuit of me. In that part of the country, as in ours, the houses and villages were skirted with woods, or shrubberies, and the bushes were so thick that a man could readily conceal

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himself in them, so as to elude the strictest search. The neighbors continued the whole day looking for me, and several times many of them came within a few yards of the place where I lay hid. I expected every moment, when I heard a rustling among the trees, to be found out, and punished by my master; but they never discovered me, though they were often so near that I even heard their conjectures as they were looking about for me; and I now learned from them that any attempts to return home would be hopeless. Most of them supposed I had ﬂed towards home; but the distance was so great, and the way so intricate, that they thought I could never reach it, and that I should be lost in the woods. When I heard this I was seized with a violent panic, and abandoned myself to despair. Night, too, began to approach, and aggravated all my fears. I had before entertained hopes of getting home, and had determined when it should be dark to make the attempt; but I was now convinced it was fruitless, and began to consider that, if possibly I could escape all other animals, I could not those of the human kind; and that, not knowing the way, I must perish in the woods. Thus was I like the hunted deer— —Every leaf and every whispering breath, Convey’d a foe, and every foe a death. I heard frequent rustlings among the leaves, and being pretty sure they were snakes, I expected every instant to be stung by them. This increased my anguish, and the horror of my situation became now quite insupportable. I at length quitted the thicket, very faint and hungry, for I had not eaten or drank anything all the day, and crept to my master’s kitchen, from whence I set out at ﬁrst, which was an open shed, and laid myself down in the ashes with an anxious wish for death, to relieve me from all my pains. I was scarcely awake in the morning, when the old woman slave, who was the ﬁrst up, came to ﬁght the ﬁre, and saw me in the ﬁreplace. She was very much surprised to see me, and could scarcely believe her own eyes. She now promised to intercede for me, and went for her master, who soon after came, and, having slightly reprimanded me, ordered me to be taken care of, and not ill treated. Soon after this, my master’s only daughter, and child by his ﬁrst wife, sickened and died, which affected him so much that for sometime he was almost frantic, and really would have killed himself, had he not been watched and prevented. However, in a short time afterwards he recovered, and I was again sold. I was now carried to the left of the sun’s rising, through many dreary wastes and dismal woods, amidst the hideous roarings of wild beasts. The people I was sold to used to carry me very often, when I was tired, either on their shoulders or on their backs. I saw many convenient well-built sheds along the road, at proper distances, to accommodate the merchants and travellers, who lay in those buildings along with their wives, who often accompany them; and they always go well armed. From the time I left my own nation, I always found somebody that understood me till I came to the sea coast. The languages of different nations did not totally differ, nor were they so copious as those of the Europeans, particularly the English. They were therefore easily learned; and, while I was journeying thus through Africa, I acquired two or three different tongues. In this manner I had been traveling for a considerable time, when, one evening, to my great surprise, whom should I see brought to the house where I was but my dear sister! As soon as she saw me, she gave a loud shriek, and ran into my arms—I was quite over-powered; neither of us could speak, but, for a considerable time, clung to each other in mutual embraces, unable to do anything but weep. Our meeting affected all who saw us; and, indeed, I must acknowledge, in honor of those sable destroyers of human rights, that I never

5. The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, 1789 41

met with any ill treatment, or saw any offered to their slaves, except tying them, when necessary, to keep them from running away. When these people knew we were brother and sister, they indulged us to be together; and the man, to whom I supposed we belonged, lay with us, he in the middle, while she and I held one another by the hands across his breast all night; and thus for a while we forgot our misfortunes, in the joy of being together; but even this small comfort was soon to have an end; for scarcely had the fatal morning appeared when she was again torn from me forever! I was now more miserable, if possible, than before. The small relief which her presence gave me from pain, was gone, and the wretchedness of my situation was redoubled by my anxiety after her fate, and my apprehensions lest her sufferings should be greater than mine, when I could not be with her to alleviate them. Yes, thou dear partner of all my childish sports! Thou sharer of my joys and sorrows! Happy should I have ever esteemed myself to encounter every misery for you and to procure your freedom by the sacriﬁce of my own. Though you were early forced from my arms, your image has been always riveted in my heart, from which neither time nor fortune have been able to remove it; so that, while the thoughts of your sufferings have damped my prosperity, they have mingled with adversity and increased its bitterness. To that Heaven which protects the weak from the strong, I commit the care of your innocence and virtues, if they have not already received their full reward, and if your youth and delicacy have not long since fallen victims to the violence of the African trader, the pestilential stench of a Guinea ship, the seasoning in the European colonies, or the lash and lust of a brutal and unrelenting overseer. I did not long remain after my sister. I was again sold, and carried through a number of places, till after traveling a considerable time, I came to a town called Tinmah, in the most beautiful country I had yet seen in Africa. It was extremely rich, and there were many rivulets which ﬂowed through it, and supplied a large pond in the centre of the town, where the people washed. Here I saw for the ﬁrst time cocoanuts, which I thought superior to any nuts I had ever tasted before; and the trees, which were loaded, were also interspersed among the houses, which had commodious shades adjoining, and were in the same manner as ours, the insides being neatly plastered and whitewashed. Here I also saw and tasted for the ﬁrst time, sugar-cane. Their money consisted of little white shells, the size of the ﬁnger nail. I was sold here for one hundred and seventy-two of them, by a merchant who lived and brought me there. I had been about two or three days at his house, when a wealthy widow, a neighbor of his, came there one evening, and brought with her an only son, a young gentleman about my own age and size. Here they saw me; and, having taken a fancy to me, I was bought of the merchant, and went home with them. Her house and premises were situated close to one of those rivulets I have mentioned, and were the ﬁnest I ever saw in Africa: they were very extensive, and she had a number of slaves to attend her. The next day I was washed and perfumed, and when meal time came, I was led into the presence of my mistress, and ate and drank before her with her son. This ﬁlled me with astonishment; and I could scarce help expressing my surprise that the young gentleman should suffer me, who was bound, to eat with him who was free; and not only so, but that he would not at any time either eat or drink till I had taken ﬁrst, because I was the eldest, which was agreeable to our custom. Indeed, every thing here, and all their treatment of me, made me forget that I was a slave.

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The language of these people resembled ours so nearly, that we understood each other perfectly. They had also the very same customs as we. There were likewise slaves daily to attend us, while my young master and I, with other boys, sported with our darts and bows and arrows, as I had been used to do at home. In this resemblance to my former happy state, I passed about two months; and I now began to think I was to be adopted into the family, and was beginning to be reconciled to my situation, and to forget by degrees my misfortunes, when all at once the delusion vanished; for, without the least previous knowledge, one morning early, while my dear master and companion was still asleep, I was awakened out of my reverie to fresh sorrow, and hurried away even amongst the uncircumcised. Thus, at the very moment I dreamed of the greatest happiness, I found myself most miserable; and it seemed as if fortune wished to give me this taste of joy only to render the reverse more poignant. The change I now experienced was as painful as it was sudden and unexpected. It was a change indeed, from a state of bliss to a scene which is inexpressible by me, as it discovered to me an element I had never before beheld, and till then had no idea of, and wherein such instances of hardship and cruelty continually occurred, as I can never reﬂect on but with horror. All the nations and people I had hitherto passed through, resembled our own in their manners, customs, and language; but I came at length to a country, the inhabitants of which differed from us in all those particulars. I was very much struck with this difference, especially when I came among a people who did not circumcise, and ate without washing their hands. They cooked also in iron pots, and had European cutlasses and cross bows, which were unknown to us, and fought with their ﬁsts among themselves. Their women were not so modest as ours, for they ate, and drank, and slept with their men. But above all, I was amazed to see no sacriﬁces or offerings among them. In some of those places the people ornamented themselves with scars, and likewise ﬁled their teeth very sharp. They wanted sometimes to ornament me in the same manner, but I would not suffer them; hoping that I might some time be among a people who did not thus disﬁgure themselves, as I thought they did. At last I came to the banks of a large river which was covered with canoes, in which the people appeared to live with their household utensils, and provisions of all kinds. I was beyond measure astonished at this, as I had never before seen any water larger than a pond or a rivulet; and my surprise was ningled with no small fear when I was put into one of these canoes, and we began to paddle and move along the river. We continued going on thus till night, and when we came to land, and made ﬁres on the banks, each family by themselves; some dragged their canoes on shore, others stayed and cooked in theirs, and laid in them all night. Those on the land had mats, of which they made tents, some in the shape of little houses; in these we slept; and after the morning meal, we embarked again and proceeded as before. I was often very much astonished to see some of the women, as well as the men, jump into the water, dive to the bottom, come up again, and swim about. Thus I continued to travel, sometimes by land, sometimes by water, through different countries and various nations, till, at the end of six or seven months after I had been kidnapped, I arrived at the sea coast. It would be tedious and uninteresting to relate all the incidents which befell me during this journey, and which I have not yet forgotten; of the various hands I passed through, and the manners and customs of all the different people among whom I lived—I shall therefore only observe, that in all the places where I was, the soil was exceedingly rich; the pumpkins, eadas, plantains,

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yams, &c. &c., were in great abundance, and of incredible size. There were also vast quantities of different gums, though not used for any purpose, and everywhere a great deal of tobacco. The cotton even grew quite wild, and there was plenty of red-wood. I saw no mechanics whatever in all the way, except such as I have mentioned. The chief employment in all these countries was agriculture, and both the males and females, as with us, were brought up to it, and trained in the arts of war. The ﬁrst object which saluted my eyes when I arrived on the coast, was the sea, and a slave ship, which was then riding at anchor, and waiting for its cargo. These ﬁlled me with astonishment, which was soon converted into terror, when I was carried on board. I was immediately handled, and tossed up to see if I were sound, by some of the crew; and I was now persuaded that I had gotten into a world of bad spirits, and that they were going to kill me. Their complexions, too, differing so much from ours, their long hair, and the language they spoke (which was very different from any I had ever heard), united to conﬁrm me in this belief. Indeed, such were the horrors of my views and fears at the moment, that, if ten thousand worlds had been my own, I would have freely parted with them all to have exchanged my condition with that of the meanest slave in my own country. When I looked round the ship too, and saw a large furnace of copper boiling, and a multitude of black people of every description chained together, every one of their countenances expressing dejection and sorrow, I no longer doubted of my fate; and, quite overpowered with horror and anguish, I fell motionless on the deck and fainted. When I recovered a little, I found some black people about me, who I believed were some of those who had brought me on board, and had been receiving their pay; they talked to me in order to cheer me, but all in vain. I asked them if we were not to be eaten by those white men with horrible looks, red faces, and long hair. They told me I was not, and one of the crew brought me a small portion of spirituous liquor in a wine glass; but being afraid of him, I would not take it out of his hand. One of the blacks therefore took it from him and gave it to me, and I took a little down my palate, which, instead of reviving me, as they thought it would, threw me into the greatest consternation at the strange feeling it produced, having never tasted any such liquor before. Soon after this, the blacks who brought me on board went off, and left me abandoned to despair. I now saw myself deprived of all chance of returning to my native country, or even the least glimpse of hope of gaining the shore, which I now considered as friendly; and I even wished for my former slavery in preference to my present situation, which was ﬁlled with horrors of every kind, still heightened by my ignorance of what I was to undergo. I was not long suffered to indulge my grief; I was soon put down under the decks, and there I received such a salutation in my nostrils as I had never experienced in my life: so that, with the loathsomeness of the stench, and crying together, I became so sick and low that I was not able to eat, nor had I the least desire to taste anything. I now wished for the last friend, death, to relieve me; but soon, to my grief, two of the white men offered me eatables; and, on my refusing to eat, one of them held me fast by the hands, and laid me across, I think, the windlass, and tied my feet, while the other ﬂogged me severely. I had never experienced anything of this kind before, and, although not being used to the water, I naturally feared that element the ﬁrst time I saw it, yet, nevertheless, could I have got over the nettings, I would have jumped over the side, but I could not; and besides, the crew used to watch us very closely who were not chained down to the decks, lest we

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should leap into the water; and I have seen some of these poor African prisoners most severely cut, for attempting to do so, and hourly whipped for not eating. This indeed was often the case with myself. In a little time after, amongst the poor chained men, I found some of my own nation, which in a small degree gave ease to my mind. I inquired of these what was to be done with us? They gave me to understand, we were to be carried to these white people’s country to work for them. I then was a little revived, and thought, if it were no worse than working, my situation was not so desperate; but still I feared I should be put to death, the white people looked and acted, as I thought, in so savage a manner; for I had never seen among any people such instances of brutal cruelty; and this not only shown towards us blacks, but also to some of the whites themselves. One white man in particular I saw, when we were permitted to be on deck, ﬂogged so unmercifully with a large rope near the foremast, that he died in consequence of it; and they tossed him over the side as they would have done a brute. This made me fear these people the more; and I expected nothing less than to be treated in the same manner. I could not help expressing my fears and apprehensions to some of my countrymen; I asked them if these people had no country, but lived in this hollow place (the ship)? They told me they did not, but came from a distant one. ‘‘Then,’’ said I, ‘‘how comes it in all our country we never heard of them?’’ They told me because they lived so very far off. I then asked where were their women? had they any like themselves? I was told they had. ‘‘And why,’’ said I, ‘‘do we not see them?’’ They answered, because they were left behind. I asked how the vessel could go? They told me they could not tell; but that there was cloth put upon the masts by the help of the ropes I saw, and then the vessel went on; and the white men had some spell or magic they put in the water when they liked, in order to stop the vessel. I was exceedingly amazed at this account, and really thought they were spirits. I therefore wished much to be from amongst them, for I expected they would sacriﬁce me; but my wishes were vain—for we were so quartered that it was impossible for any of us to make our escape. While we stayed on the coast I was mostly on deck; and one day, to my great astonishment, I saw one of these vessels coming in with the sails up. As soon as the whites saw it, they gave a great shout, at which we were amazed; and the more so, as the vessel appeared larger by approaching nearer. At last, she came to an anchor in my sight, and when the anchor was let go, I and my countrymen who saw it, were lost in astonishment to observe the vessel stop— and were now convinced it was done by magic. Soon after this the other ship got her boats out, and they came on board of us, and the people of both ships seemed very glad to see each other. Several of the strangers also shook hands with us black people, and made motions with their hands, signifying I suppose, we were to go to their country, but we did not understand them. At last, when the ship we were in, had got in all her cargo, they made ready with many fearful noises, and we were all put under deck, so that we could not see how they managed the vessel. But this disappointment was the least of my sorrow. The stench of the hold while we were on the coast was so intolerably loathsome, that it was dangerous to remain there for any time, and some of us had been permitted to stay on the deck for the fresh air; but now that the whole ship’s cargo were conﬁned together, it became absolutely pestilential. The closeness of the place, and the heat of the climate, added to the number in the ship, which was so crowded that each had scarcely room to turn himself, almost suffocated us. This produced copious

5. The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, 1789 45

perspirations, so that the air soon became unﬁt for respiration, from a variety of loathsome smells, and brought on a sickness among the slaves, of which many died—thus falling victims to the improvident avarice, as I may call it, of their purchasers. This wretched situation was again aggravated by the gafﬁng of the chains, now became insupportable, and the ﬁlth of the necessary tubs, into which the children often fell, and were almost suffocated. The shrieks of the women, and the groans of the dying, rendered the whole a scene of horror almost inconceivable. Happily perhaps, for myself, I was soon reduced so low here that it was thought necessary to keep me almost always on deck; and from my extreme youth I was not put in fetters. In this situation I expected every hour to share the fate of my companions, some of whom were almost daily brought upon deck at the point of death, which I began to hope would soon put an end to my miseries. Often did I think many of the inhabitants of the deep much more happy than myself. I envied them the freedom they enjoyed, and as often wished I could change my condition for theirs. Every circumstance I met with, served only to render my state more painful, and heightened my apprehensions, and my opinion of the cruelty of the whites. One day they had taken a number of ﬁshes; and when they had killed and satisﬁed themselves with as many as they thought ﬁt, to our astonishment who were on deck, rather than give any of them to us to eat, as we expected, they tossed the remaining ﬁsh into the sea again, although we begged and prayed for some as well as we could, but in vain; and some of my countrymen, being pressed by hunger, took an opportunity, when they thought no one saw them, of trying to get a little privately; but they were discovered, and the attempt procured them some very severe ﬂoggings. One day, when we had a smooth sea and moderate wind, two of my wearied countrymen who were chained together (I was near them at the time), preferring death to such a ﬁfe of misery, somehow made through the nettings and jumped into the sea; immediately, another quite dejected fellow, who, on account of his illness, was suffered to be out of irons, also followed their example; and I believe many more would very soon have done the same, if they had not been prevented by the ship’s crew, who were instantly alarmed. Those of us that were the most active, were in a moment put down under the deck; and there was such a noise and confusion amongst the people of the ship as I never heard before, to stop her, and get the boat out to go after the slaves. However, two of the wretches were drowned, but they got the other, and afterwards ﬂogged him unmercifully, for thus attempting to prefer death to slavery. In this manner we continued to undergo more hardships than I can now relate, hardships which are inseparable from this accursed trade. Many a time we were near suffocation from the want of fresh air, which we were often without for whole days together. This, and the stench of the necessary tubs, carried off many. During our passage, I ﬁrst saw ﬂying ﬁshes, which surprised me very much; they used frequently to ﬂy across the ship, and many of them fell on the deck. I also now ﬁrst saw the use of the quadrant; I had often with astonishment seen the mariners make observations with it, and I could not think what it meant. They at last took notice of my surprise; and one of them, willing to increase it, as well as to gratify my curiosity, made me one day look through it. The clouds appeared to me to be land, which disappeared as they passed along. This heightened my wonder; and I was now more persuaded than ever, that I was in another world, and that every thing about me was magic. At last we came in sight of the island of Barbados, at which the whites on board gave a great shout, and made many signs of joy to us. We did not know what to think

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of this; but as the vessel drew nearer, we plainly saw the harbor, and other ships of different kinds and sizes, and we soon anchored amongst them, off Bridgetown. Many merchants and planters now came on board, though it was in the evening. They put us in separate parcels, and examined us attentively. They also made us jump, and pointed to the land, signifying we were to go there. We thought by this, we should be eaten by these ugly men, as they appeared to us; and, when soon after we were all put down under the deck again, there was much dread and trembling among us, and nothing but bitter cries to be heard all the night from these apprehensions, insomuch, that at last the white people got some old slaves from the land to pacify us. They told us we were not to be eaten, but to work, and were soon to go on land, where we should see many of our country people. This report eased us much. And sure enough, soon after we were landed, there came to us Africans of all languages. We were conducted immediately to the merchant’s yard, where we were all pent up together, like so many sheep in a fold, without regard to sex or age. As every object was new to me, everything I saw ﬁlled me with surprise. What struck me ﬁrst, was, that the houses were built with bricks and stories, and in every other respect different from those I had seen in Africa; but I was still more astonished on seeing people on horseback. I did not know what this could mean; and, indeed, I thought these people were full of nothing but magical arts. While I was in this astonishment, one of my fellow prisoners spoke to a countryman of his, about the horses, who said they were the same kind they had in their country. I understood them, though they were from a distant part of Africa; and I thought it odd I had not seen any horses there; but afterwards, when I came to converse with different Africans, I found they had many horses amongst them, and much larger than those I then saw. We were not many days in the merchant’s custody, before we were sold after their usual manner, which is this: On a signal given (as the beat of a drum), the buyers rush at once into the yard where the slaves are conﬁned, and make choice of that parcel they like best. The noise and clamor with which this is attended, and the eagerness visible in the countenances of the buyers, serve not a little to increase the apprehension of terriﬁed Africans, who may well be supposed to consider them as the ministers of that destruction to which they think themselves devoted. In this manner, without scruple, are relations and friends separated, most of them never to see each other again. I remember, in the vessel in which I was brought over, in the men’s apartment, there were several brothers, who, in the sale, were sold in different lots; and it was very moving on this occasion, to see and hear their cries at parting. O, ye nominal Christians! might not an African ask you—Learned you this from your God, who says unto you, Do unto all men as you would men should do unto you? Is it not enough that we are torn from our country and friends, to toil for your luxury and lust of gain? Must every tender feeling be likewise sacriﬁced to your avarice? Are the dearest friends and relations, now rendered more dear by their separation from their kindred, still to be parted from each other, and thus prevented from cheering the gloom of slavery, with the small comfort of being together, and mingling their sufferings and sorrows? Why are parents to lose their children, brothers their sisters, or husbands their wives? Surely, this is a new reﬁnement in cruelty, which, while it has no advantage to atone for it, thus aggravates distress, and adds fresh horrors even to the wretchedness of slavery. Source: The Avalon Project, Yale Law School, New Haven, CT. Copyright C 1996 The Avalon Project.

7. Printed Letter, 1794 47

6. The Fugitive Slave Act, 1793 U.S. CONGRESS Enacted by Congress to ensure the right of slave owners to reclaim lost ‘‘property,’’ the Fugitive Slave Act of 1793 opposed every ideal in the U.S. Constitution: free will, the right to happiness, and due process. For the better security of the peace and friendship now entered into by the contracting parties, against all infractions of the same, by the citizens of either party, to the prejudice of the other, neither party shall proceed to the inﬂiction of punishments on the citizens of the other, otherwise than by securing the offender, or offenders, by imprisonment, or any other competent means, till a fair and impartial trial can be had by judges or juries of both parties, as near as can be, to the laws, customs, and usage’s of the contracting parties, and natural justice: the mode of such trials to be hereafter ﬁxed by the wise men of the United States, in Congress assembled, with the assistance of such deputies of the Delaware nation, as may be appointed to act in concert with them in adjusting this matter to their mutual liking. And it is further agreed between the parties aforesaid, that neither shall entertain, or give countenance to, the enemies of the other, or protect, in their respective states, criminal fugitives, servants, or slaves, but the same to apprehend and secure, and deliver to the state or states, to which such enemies, criminals, servants, or slaves, respectively below [sic]. Source: Annals of Congress, 2nd Cong., 2nd sess., 1413 & 1414. Law Library of Congress.

7. Printed Letter, 1794 ANTHONY NEW In this letter to President James Madison, U.S. government ofﬁcial Anthony New educates the chief executive about the slave trade from the West Indies. New advises Madison that this kind of activity does not coincide with progressive national policy of the United States. PHILADELPHIA, February 27th, 1794. DEAR SIR, THE resolutions proposed by Mr. Madison, upon the principle of securing the advantages to the navigation and commerce of the United States, which of right belong to her, and which have been hitherto usurped by Britain, have been postponed to the ﬁrst Monday in March, by which time, the public will may be tolerably ascertained, and foreign occurrences better known: A state like ours, whose prosperity depends upon the regular exportation of bulky commodities, to distant countries, must be deeply interested to secure the national means of doing it, independent of foreign revolutions and wars. The idea of a naval force (heretofore proposed) is yet progressing, attended with an additional tax; it is unfortunate that the beneﬁts expected from the one, are by no means, so certain as the burthen upon the community, which will inevitably ﬂow from the other, should it succeed.—Demands have been made from a French island, for aids of men, ammunition and provisions; but as these do not derive their origin from France itself, it is hardly probable that they will be persisted in, or productive of any degree of embarrassment.

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The subject of the slave-trade, has been introduced by the Quakers, into Congress, and now stands upon the report of a committee, favorable to the object of the petitioners; this only extends to prevent a practice of some people, who have lately been employed, in transporting slaves from Africa to the West-India islands; and is not levelled in the remotest degree, against the rights of private property. The Senate doors are to be opened at the next session; an event long desired, and from which the best predictions are deduced in favor of republicanism. It would be improper to conceal an apprehension, to meet which, the public mind ought to be prepared. It is not a secret, that prevarications have been resorted to by the British minister, to avoid a negociation for the fulﬁlment of the treaty, and that his court have almost peremptorily refused to surrender the western posts upon any event. Time only can develope the real motives of a conduct so unjust. The late successes of France, against an unexampled combination of despots, will, I hope, clear away the clouds which had begun to darken our political horizon, and secure to us peace, the best pledge for liberty, safety and happiness. Should, however, these precious objects of society be unjustly assailed, contrary to my expectation, that the efforts in their defence may be commensurate to their importance, is the fervent hope of Your most obedient-humble servant, Anthony New Source: Copyright C 1995 by The Rector and Visitors of The University of Virginia. All rights reserved. Courtesy of The University of Virginia Library.

8. A Narrative of the Life and Adventures of Venture: A Native of Africa, but Resident above Sixty Years in the United States of America, Related by Himself, 1798 Kidnapped in Africa at the age of six, Venture Smith was sold to the steward on a slave ship and brought to Connecticut sometime in the early 1730s. At thirty-one years old, he purchased his freedom with money that he earned ‘‘cleaning muskrats and minks, raising potatoes and carrots and ﬁshing.’’ Later, Smith himself became a slaveholder, owning at least three slaves. When he died at seventy-seven in 1805, he left a one-hundred-acre farm and three houses in East Haddam, Connecticut. This is his story, told in his own words. I was born in Dukandarra, in Guinea, about the year 1729. My father’s name was Saungm Furro, Prince of the tribe of Dukandara. My father had three wives. Polygamy was not uncommon in that country, especially among the rich, as every man was allowed to keep as many wives as he could maintain.… The ﬁrst thing worthy of notice which I remember was, a contention between my father and mother, on account of my father marrying his third wife without the consent of his ﬁrst and eldest, which was contrary to the custom generally observed among my countrymen. In consequence of this rupture, my mother left her husband and country, and traveled away with her three children to the eastward. I was then ﬁve years old.… After ﬁve days travel … my mother was pleased to stop and seek a refuge for me. She left me at the house of a very rich farmer. I was then, as I should judge, not less

8. A Narrative of the Life and Adventures of Venture 49

than one hundred and forty miles from my native place, separated from all my relations and acquaintance.… My father sent a man and horse after me. After settling with my guardian for keeping me, he took me away and went for home. It was then about one year since my mother brought me here. Nothing remarkable occurred to us on our journey until we arrived safe home. I found then that the difference between my parents had been made up previous to their sending for me. On my return, I was received both by my father and mother with great joy and affection, and was once more restored to my paternal dwelling in peace and happiness. I was then about six years old. Not more than six weeks had passed after my return before a message was brought by an inhabitant of the place where I lived the preceding year to my father, that that place had been invaded by a numerous army from a nation not far distant, furnished with musical instrument, and all kinds of arms then in use; that they were instigated by some white nation who equipped and sent them to subdue and possess the country; that his nation had made no preparation for war, having been for a long time in profound peace; that they could not defend themselves against such a formidable train of invaders, and must therefore necessarily evacuate their lands to the ﬁerce enemy, and ﬂy to the protection of some chief; and that if he would permit them they would come under his rule and protection when they had to retreat from their own possessions. He was a kind and merciful prince, and therefore consented to these proposals.… He gave them every privilege and all the protection his government could afford. But they had not been there longer than four days before news came to them that the invaders had laid waste their country, and were coming speedily to destroy them in my father’s territories. This affrighted them, and therefore they immediately pushed off to the southward, into the unknown countries there, and were never more heard of. Two days after their retreat, the report turned out to be but too true. A detachment from the enemy came to my father and informed him, that the whole army was encamped not far out of his dominions, and would invade the territory and deprive his people of their liberties and rights, if he did not comply with the following terms. These were to pay them a large sum of money, three hundred fat cattle, and a great number of goats, sheep, asses, etc. My father told the messenger he would comply rather than that his subjects should be deprived of their rights and privileges, which he was not then in circumstances to defend from so sudden an invasion. Upon turning out those articles, the enemy pledged their faith and honor that they would not attack him. On these he relied and therefore thought it unnecessary to be on his guard against the enemy. But their pledges of faith and honor proved no better than those of other unprincipled hostile nations; for a few days after a certain relation of the king came and informed him, that the enemy who sent terms of accommodation to him and received tribute to their satisfaction, yet meditated an attack upon his subjects by surprise and that probably they would commence their attack in less than one day, and concluded with advising him, as he was not prepared for war, to order a speedy retreat of his family and subjects. He complied with this advice. The same night which was ﬁxed upon to retreat, my father and his family set off about the break of day. The king and his two younger wives went in one company,

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and my mother and her children in another. We left our dwellings in succession, and my father’s company went on ﬁrst. We directed our course for a large shrub plain, some distance off, where we intended to conceal ourselves from the approaching enemy, until we could refresh ourselves a little. But we presently found that our retreat was not secure. For having struck up a little ﬁre for the purpose of cooking victuals, the enemy who happened to be encamped a little distance off, had sent out a scouting party who discovered us by the smoke of the ﬁre, just as we were extinguishing it, and about to eat. As soon as we had ﬁnished eating, my father discovered the party, and immediately began to discharge arrows at them. This was what I ﬁrst saw, and it alarmed both me and the women, who being unable to make any resistance, immediately betook ourselves to the tall thick reeds not far off, and left the old king to ﬁght alone. For some time I beheld him from the reeds defending himself with great courage and ﬁrmness, till at last he was obliged to surrender himself into their hands. They then came to us in the reeds, and the very ﬁrst salute I had from them was a violent blow on the back part of the head with the fore part of a gun, and at the same time a grasp round the neck. I then had a rope put about my neck, as had all the women in the thicket with me, and were immediately led to my father, who was likewise pinioned and haltered for leading. In this condition we were all led to the camp. The women and myself being pretty submissive, had tolerable treatment from the enemy, while my father was closely interrogated respecting his money which they knew he must have. But as he gave them no account of it, he was instantly cut and pounded on his body with great inhumanity, that he might be induced by the torture he suffered to make the discovery. All this availed not in the least to make him give up his money, but he despised all the tortures which they inﬂicted, until the continued exercise and increase of torment, obliged him to sink and expire. He thus died without informing his enemies where his money lay. I saw him while he was thus tortured to death. The shocking scene is to this day fresh in my mind, and I have often been overcome while thinking on it.… The army of the enemy was large, I should suppose consisting of about six thousand men. Their leader was called Baukurre. After destroying the old prince, they decamped and immediately marched toward the sea, lying to the west, taking with them myself and the women prisoners. In the march a scouting party was detached from the main army. To the leader of this party I was made waiter, having to carry his gun, etc. As we were a scouting we came across a herd of fat cattle, consisting of about thirty in number. These we set upon, and immediately wrested from their keepers, and afterwards converted them into food for the army. The enemy had remarkable success in destroying the country wherever they went. For as far as they had penetrated, they laid the habitations waste and captured the people. The distance they had now brought me was about four hundred miles. All the march I had very hard tasks imposed on me, which I must perform on pain of punishment. I was obliged to carry on my head a large ﬂat stone used for grinding our corn, weighing as I should suppose, as much as twenty-ﬁve pounds; besides victuals, mat and cooking utensils. Though I was pretty large and stout at my age, yet these burdens were very grievous to me, being only six years and a half old. We were then come to a place called Malagasco. When we entered the place we could not see the least appearance of either houses or inhabitants, but upon stricter search found, that instead of houses above ground they had dens in the sides of

9. The Confessions of Nat Turner, the Leader of the Late Insurrection in Southampton, Virginia, 1832 51

hillocks, contiguous to ponds and streams of water. In these we perceived they had all hid themselves, as I supposed they usually did on such occasions. In order to compel them to surrender, the enemy contrived to smoke them out with faggots. These they put to the entrance of the caves and set them on ﬁre. While they were engaged in this business, to their great surprise some of them were desperately wounded with arrows which fell from above on them. This mystery they soon found out. They perceived that the enemy discharged these arrows through holes on top of the dens, directly into the air. Their weight brought them back, point downwards on their enemies heads, whilst they were smoking the inhabitants out. The points of their arrows were poisoned, but their enemy had an antidote for it, which they instantly applied to the wounded part. The smoke at last obliged the people to give themselves up. They came out of their caves, ﬁrst putting the palms of their hands together, and immediately after extended their arms, crossed at their wrists, ready to be bound and pinioned.… The invaders then pinioned the prisoners of all ages and sexes indiscriminately, took their ﬂocks and all their effects, and moved on their way towards the sea. On the march the prisoners were treated with clemency, on account of their being submissive and humble. Having come to the next tribe, the enemy laid siege and immediately took men, women, children, ﬂocks, and all their valuable effects. They then went on to the next district which was contiguous to the sea, called in Africa, Anamaboo. The enemies provisions were then almost spent, as well as their strength. The inhabitants knowing what conduct they had pursued, and what were their present intentions, improve the favorable opportunity, attacked them, and took enemy, prisoners, ﬂocks and all their effects. I was then taken a second time. All of us were then put into the castle [a European slave trading post], and kept for market. On a certain time I and other prisoners were put on board a canoe, under our master, and rowed away to a vessel belonging to Rhode Island, commanded by Captain Collingwood, and the mate Thomas Mumford. While we were going to the vessel, our master told us all to appear to the best possible advantage for sale. I was bought on board by one Robert Mumford, steward of said vessel, for four gallons of rum, and a piece of calico, and called Venture, on account of his having purchased me with his own private venture. Thus I came by my name. All the slaves that were bought for that vessel’s cargo, were two hundred and sixty. Source: New London: printed by C.Holt, at the BEE-Ofﬁce, 1798. Reprinted—Middletown, Conn.: J. S. Stewart, printer, 1897.

9. The Confessions of Nat Turner, the Leader of the Late Insurrection in Southampton, Virginia, 1832 When lawyer Thomas R. Gray asked former slave Nat Turner why he led his revolt against slavery in an insurrection in Southampton, Virginia, Turner responded with the following: Sir—You have asked me to give a history of the motives which induced me to undertake the late insurrection, as you call it—To do so I must go back to the days of my infancy.… In my childhood a circumstance occurred which made an indelible

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impression on my mind, and laid the groundwork of that enthusiasm, which has terminated so fatally to many, both white and black, and for which I am about to atone at the gallows.… Being at play with other children, when three or four years old, I was telling them something, which my mother overhearing, said it had happened before I was born … others being called on were greatly astonished … and caused them to say in my hearing, I surely would be a prophet.… For two years [I] prayed continually, whenever my duty would permit—and then again I had [a] … revelation, which fully conﬁrmed me in the impression that I was ordained for some great purpose, in the hands of the Almighty.… About this time [around 1825] I had a vision—and I saw white spirits and black spirits engaged in battle, and the sun was darkened—the thunder rolled in the Heavens, and blood ﬂowed in streams … And on the 12th of May, 1828, I heard a loud noise in the heavens, and the Spirit instantly appeared to me and said the Serpent was loosened, and Christ had laid down the yoke he had borne for the sins of men, and that I should take it on and ﬁght against the Serpent, for the time was fast approaching when the ﬁrst should be last and the last should be ﬁrst. [Question] Do you not ﬁnd yourself mistaken now? [Answer] Was not Christ cruciﬁed? And by signs in the heavens that it would be made known to me when I should commence the great work—and until the ﬁrst sign appeared, I should conceal if from the knowledge of men—And on the appearance of the sign (the eclipse of the sun last February), I should arise and prepare myself, and slay my enemies with their own weapons. And immediately on the sign appearing in the heavens, the seal was removed from my lips, and I communicated the great work laid out before me to do, to four in whom I had the greatest conﬁdence (Henry, Hark, Nelson, and Sam)—It was intended by us to have begun the work of death on the 4th of July last—Many were the plans formed and rejected by us, and it affected my mind to such a degree, that I fell sick, and the time passed without our coming to any determination how to commence—Still forming new schemes and rejecting them, when the sign appeared again, which determined me not to wait longer. Since the commencement of 1830, I had been living with Mr. Joseph Travis, who was to me a kind master, and placed the greatest conﬁdence in me: in fact, I had no cause to complain of his treatment of me. On Saturday evening, the 20th of August, it was agreed between Henry, Hark, and myself, to prepare a dinner the next day for the men we expected, and then to concert a plan, as we had not yet determined on any. Hark, on the following morning, brought a pig, and Henry brandy, and being joined by Sam, Nelson, Will and Jack, they prepared in the woods a dinner, where, about three o’clock, I joined them … I saluted them on coming up, and asked Will how came he there, he answered, his life was worth no more than others, and his liberty as dear to him. I asked him if he thought to obtain it? He said he would, or lose his life. This was enough to put him in full conﬁdence. Jack, I knew, was only a tool in the hands of Hark, it was quickly agreed we should commence at home (Mr. J. Travis’) on that night, and until we had armed and equipped ourselves, and gathered sufﬁcient force, neither age nor sex was to be spared (which was invariably adhered to). We remained at the feast, until about two hours in the night, when we went to the house and found Austin; they all went to the cider press and drank, except myself. On returning to

9. The Confessions of Nat Turner, the Leader of the Late Insurrection in Southampton, Virginia, 1832 53

the house Hark went to the door with an axe, for the purpose of breaking it open, as we knew we were strong enough to murder the family, if they were awakened by the noise; but reﬂecting that it might create an alarm in the neighborhood, we determined to enter the house secretly, and murder them whilst sleeping. Hark got a ladder and set it against the chimney, on which I ascended, and hoisting a window, entered and came down stairs, unbarred the door, and removed the guns from their places. It was then observed that I must spill the ﬁrst blood. On which, armed with a hatchet, and accompanied by Will, I entered my master’s chamber, it being dark, I could not give a death blow, the hatchet glanced from his head, he sprang from the bed and called his wife, it was his last word, Will laid him dead, with a blow of his axe, and Mrs. Travis shared the same fate, as she lay in bed. The murder of this family, ﬁve in number, was the work of a moment, not one of them awoke; there was a little infant sleeping in a cradle, that was forgotten, until we had left the house and gone some distance, when Henry and will returned and killed it; we got here, four guns that would shoot and several old muskets, with a pound or two of powder. We remained some time at the barn, where we paraded; I formed them in a line as soldiers, and … marched them off to Mr. Salthul Francis’, about six hundred yards distant. Sam and Will went to the door and knocked. Mr. Francis asked who was there, Sam replied it was him, and he had a letter for him, on which he got up and came to the door; they immediately seized him, and dragging him out a little from the door, he was dispatched by repeated blows on the head; there was no other white person in the family. We started from there for Mrs. Reese’s, maintaining the most perfect silence on our march, where ﬁnding the door unlocked, we entered, and murdered Mrs. Reese in her bed, while sleeping; her son awoke, but it was only to sleep the sleep of death, he had only time to say who is that, and he was no more. From Mrs. Reese’s we went to Mrs. Turner’s, a mile distant, which we reached about sunrise, on Monday morning. Henry, Austin, and Sam, went to the still, where, ﬁnding Mr. Peebles, Austin shot him, and the rest of us went to the house; as we approached, the family discovered us, and shut the door. Vain hope! Will, with one stroke of his axe opened it, and we entered and found Mrs. Turner and Mrs. Newsome in the middle of a room, almost frightened to death. Will immediately killed Mrs. Turner, with one blow of his axe. I took Mrs. Newsome by the hand, and with the sword I had when I was apprehended, I struck her several blows over the head, but not being able to kill her, as the sword was dull. Will turning around and discovering it, dispatched her also. A general destruction of property and search for money and ammunition, always succeeded the murders. By this time my company amounted to ﬁfteen, and nine men mounted, who started for Mrs. Whitehead’s.… As we approached the house we discovered Mr. Richard Whitehead standing in the cotton patch, near the lane fence; we called him over into the lane, and Will, the executioner, was near at hand, with his fatal axe, to send him to an untimely grave.… As I came around to the door I saw Will pulling Mrs. Whitehead out of the house, and at the step he nearly severed her head from her body, with his broad axe. Miss Margaret, when I discovered her, had concealed herself in the corner … on my approach she ﬂed, but was soon overtaken, and after repeated blows with a sword, I killed her by a blow on the head, with a fence rail.… …’Twas my object to carry terror and devastation wherever we went.… I sometimes got in sight in time to see the work of death completed, viewed the mangled bodies as they lay, in silent satisfaction, and immediately started in quest of other victims—Having murdered Mrs. Waller and ten children, we started for

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Mr. William Williams’—having killed him and two little boys that were there; while engaged in this, Mrs. Williams ﬂed and got some distance from the house, but she was pursued, overtaken, and compelled to get up behind one of the company, who brought her back, and after showing her the mangled body of her lifeless husband, she was told to get down an lay by his side, where she was shot dead.… Our number amounted now to ﬁfty or sixty, all mounted and armed with guns, axes, swords, and clubs.… We were met by a party of white men, who had pursued our blood- stained track.… The white men, eighteen in number, approached us in about one hundred yards, when one of them ﬁred.… I then ordered my men to ﬁre and rush them; the few remaining stood their ground until we approached within ﬁfty yards, when they ﬁred and retreated.… As I saw them re- loading their guns, and more coming up than I saw at ﬁrst, and several of my bravest men being wounded, the other became panick struck and squandered over the ﬁeld; the white men pursued and ﬁred on us several times.… All deserted me but two, (Jacob and Nat,) we concealed ourselves in the woods until near night, when I sent them in search of Henry, Sam, Nelson, and Hark, and directed them to rally all they could, at the place where had had our dinner the Sunday before, where they would ﬁnd me, and I accordingly returned there as soon as it was dark and remained until Wednesday evening, when discovering white men riding around the place as though they were looking for someone, and none of my men joining me, I concluded Jacob and Nat had been taken, and compelled to betray me. On this I gave up all hope for the present; and on Thursday night after having supplied myself with provisions from Mr. Travis’ I scratched a hope under a pile of fence rails in a ﬁeld, where I concealed myself for six weeks, never leaving my hiding place but for a few minutes in the dead of night to get water which was very near.… I know not how long I might have led this life, if accident had not betrayed me, a dog in the neighborhood passing by my hiding place one night while I was out, was attracted by some meat I had in my cave, and crawled in and stole it, and was coming out just as I returned. A few nights after, two Negroes having started to go hunting with the same dog, passed that way, the dog came again to the place, and having just gone out to walk about, discovered me and barked, on which thinking myself discovered, I spoke to them to beg concealment. On making myself known they ﬂed from me. Knowing when they would betray me, I immediately left my hiding place, and was pursued almost incessantly until I was taken a fortnight afterwards by Mr. Benjamin Phipps, in a little hole I had dug out with my sword, for the purpose of concealment, under the top of a fallen tree. Source: Richmond: Thomas R. Gray, 1832. Library of Congress Rare Book and Special Collections Division, African American Odyssey Collection.

10. John Quincy Adams diary 41, 5 December 1836–4 January 1837, 29 July 1840–31 December 1841 A Spanish schooner called the Amistad, became the center of a major court case in the United States during the period of slavery in the Western hemisphere. The case was argued before United States Supreme Court in 1841 after slaves aboard the ship rebelled in 1839.

10. John Quincy Adams diary 41, 5 December 1836–4 January 1837, 29 July 1840–31 December 1841

The rebellion broke out when the schooner, traveling along the coast of Cuba, was taken over by a group of captives who had earlier been kidnapped in Africa and sold into slavery. The Africans were later apprehended on the vessel near Long Island, New York, by the United States Navy and brought into the port of New Haven where the slaves were recaptured and jailed. The ensuing widely publicized court cases in the United States helped the abolitionist movement. Former United States (sixth) President John Quincy Adams defended in federal court this group of slaves who had revolted aboard the Spanish schooner. In 1840, the federal trial court found that the initial transport of the Africans across the Atlantic (which did not involve the Amistad) had been illegal and that the Africans were not legally slaves but free. The U.S. Supreme Court afﬁrmed this ﬁnding on March 9, 1841, and the Africans traveled home in 1842. In the following excerpt, Adams describes his visit to the Amistad Africans in jail, which occurred after he met with Roger Sherman Baldwin to discuss trial tactics. This meeting took place with prisoner Cinque and the others. At 1/2 past 5. A.M. I took the cars from Hartford to New Haven. My tavern bill at Hartford had been paid. The night had been frosty and the morning was bitter cold. But the sun rose bright and the whole day was fair. In the cars two passengers introduced themselves to me. Mr. Hopkins of Buffalo New York, and Mr. Curtis, the sheriff of the County of New Haven—I talked again too much. At 2 A.M. we arrived at New Haven, and I took lodgings at the Tontine Hotel—Breakfast— immediately after. Mr. Roger Sherman Baldwin called on me, and invited me to his ofﬁce in his house, whither I went with him. He read to me sundry papers, and gave me one containing an argument drawn up by him—all relating to the Negro prisoners taken in the Amistad. We had two hours of conversation upon the whole subject in which he exposed to me his views of the case. The points which had been taken beyond the District and Circuit Courts, and the motion to dismiss the appeal which he supposes the proper course to be taken before the Superior Court. He read to me numerous authorities on the several points which he proposes to urge at the trial, and said he hoped the Supreme Court would take up the case in the ﬁnal or second week of the session.—I visited the prisoners with Mr. Baldwin, Rev. Wilcox, the Marshal of the District, Mr. Pendleton, his deputy, and Keeper of the house when they are conﬁned together. The three girls are in a separate house, and I did not see them. They are, all but one, young men, under 30, and of small stature—none over 5 feet 6. Negro face, ﬂeace, and form, but varying in shades of color from ebon black to dingy Brown—one or two of them are almost mulatto bright. Cinque and Grabow, the two chief conspirators, have very remarkable countenances. Three of them read to us part of a chapter in the English New Testament—very indifferently—one boy writes a tolerable hand—Mr. Ludlow teaches them; but huddled together as they are, and having no other person to talk with but themselves their learning must be very slow. I dined at Mr. Baldwin’s with 8 or 10 others—Mrs. Baldwin is a daughter of old Roger Sherman—Her mother and brother, Mr. Baldwin’s father, Chauncey Goodrich and Mr. Ludlow were of the company. President Day, Professor Kingsley and Professor Silliman came in after dinner. I walked with Professor Silliman to his house to tea—his wife, son, 3 daughters—one married. Col. John Trumbull this day from New York—born in 1756—very unwell—said he was done up—worn out.

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With Mr. Silliman I visited Mrs. Gerry—her 4 daughters—Went with Mr. White to Mr. Ludlow’s Church. Delivered the lecture on Society and civilization. Full house. Attention—Applause. Home to my lodgings at 9 P.M. Source: John Quincy Adams diary 41, November 17, 1840.

December 12, 1840: Summary: Adams worries over what tone he should strike in making his argument before the Supreme Court. Rain great part of the day which conﬁned me to the house. Mr. Force and Mr. Laurence came as a committee from the National Institution for the Promotion of Science, and stated that they proposed to hold a meeting of the society on the ﬁrst Monday, the 4th of January next, when a discourse is to be delivered by Mr. Poinsett. The Society are desirous of obtaining the use of the Hall of the House of Representatives that evening for that purpose and wished me to offer the resolution that it be granted, which I promised to do. They said the Institution was likely to ﬂourish, and that great interest was taken in it by the people here. Mr. Force left with me a memorandum of two books which I borrowed of him more than three years since and which I have not yet returned. This day was fully occupied and quickly passed away. I made out my list of the persons to whom the documents of which extra copies are printed by order of the House are to be sent. My rule of distribution is: 1. One copy to each of the Editors of the newspapers published at Plymouth, the Old Colony Memorial, Hingham Patriot and Quincy Patriot, The Boston Courier and Evening Gazette. 2. To my son and a few other fraternal friends. 3. To the Senators in the Legislature of Massachusetts from the Counties of Plymouth and Norfolk. 4. To one representative from each of the 24 towns in the 12th Congressional District of Massachusetts. My portion of the extra documents is seldom sufﬁcient for the whole of this supply, often for not half of them. My son, the Newspaper Editors and the County Senators are ﬁrst served. The others are furnished according to the numbers of my allowance. I keep lists of the extra documents printed by order of the House of each session and of the names of the persons to whom I send them. I made out my lists for the present session; and dispatched by the mail 17 copies of the President’s annual Message. But the lists are imperfect till the meeting of the Massachusetts Legislature shall ascertain the senators for the counties of Plymouth and Norfolk, and the Representatives from the 24 towns of the 12 Congregational districts. I thought it necessary to look into this case of the Amistad captives to prepare for the argument before the Supreme Court in January; of which I dare scarcely to think. I read specially the Article in The American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Reporter of 1 October 1840, entitled the Amistad case, p. 48–51, with deep anguish of heart and a painful search of means to deﬁne and expose the abominable conspiracy of Executive and Judicial of this government against the lives of these wretched men—How shall the facts be brought out? How shall it be possible to comment upon them with becoming temper—with calmness—with moderation—with ﬁrmness—with address to avoid being silenced, and to escape the imminent danger of giving the adversary the advantage by overheated zeal. Of all the dangers before me, that of losing my self possession is the most formidable—I am yet inable to prepare

10. John Quincy Adams diary 41, 5 December 1836–4 January 1837, 29 July 1840–31 December 1841

the outline of the argument which I must be ready to offer the second week in January. Let me not forget my duty. AMISTAD TRIAL BEGINS, FEBRUARY 23, 1841 With increasing agitation of mind, now little short of agony I rode in a hack to the Capitol, taking with me in confused order a number of books which I may have occasion to use. The very skeleton of my argument is not yet put together. When the Court met, Judge Wayne and Judge Story read in succession two decisions of the Court, and Mr. Baldwin occupied the remainder of the day, four hours, in closing his argument in behalf of the Amistad captives, and in the support of the discussion of the District and Circuit Courts. The point upon which he dwelt with most emphatic earnestness was the motion to dismiss the appeal of the United States, as the contest of their right to appear as parties in the cause they having no interest therein—His reasoning therein was powerful, and perhaps conclusive—But I am apprehensive there are precedents, and an Executive inﬂuence operating upon the courts which will turn the balance against us on that point. Signed: John Quincy Adams, Former President of the United States In commenting upon the insurrection of the blacks, Mr. Baldwin ﬁrmly maintained their right of self-emancipation, but spoke in cautious terms to avoid exciting Southern passions and prejudices, which it is our policy, as much as possible, to assuage and pacify. When he came to the point of questioning the validity of the Governor General’s ladino passports he left a good deal still to be said. He closed at half past 3, and left the day open for me tomorrow. I went into the Congress Library, and took out for us the 37th volume of Niles’s register containing the speech of James Madison, in the Virginia Convention on the double condition of slaves in that state as Persons and as property—I did not wait to attend the meeting of the House after the recess; but meeting as I was walking home Mr. Brockway, I enquired of him what had been done in the House. [H]e told me, that they had agreed to take the civil and diplomatic appropriation Bill out of the Committee of the whole on the State of the Union at 5 o’clock this afternoon. Mr. Trisby brought me this morning the new Edition in two large thick 8va Volumes of Noah Webster’s Dictionary. The applicants for ofﬁcial appointments are gathering into a multitude—Mr. Whitcomb, heretofore a clerk in the general land ofﬁce, is here and came to solicit my inﬂuence for himself and for his son to obtain an appointment as a cadet at West Point. Daniel Parkman is also here for an appointment to the marshal. Source: John Quincy Adams diary 41, February 1841.

FORMER PRESIDENT CONCLUDES AMISTAD CASE John Leavy was to have gone with the morning cars to Baltimore, but was by a few minutes belated, and went in the afternoon—He left in deposit with me 160 dollars 80 cents in gold for which I gave him a receipt and a promise to pay that sum to his order as demanded—I went and delivered at the orphans court the inventory and appraisement made by Jeremiah Pendergast and Thomas Dumphy of the goods and effects of Jeremy Leavy on Saturday Evening—Thence I went to the

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Supreme Court and concluded my argument in the case of the Amistad captives—I spoke about four hours and then closed somewhat abruptly; leaving almost entirely untouched the review of the case of the Antelope, which I had intended and for which I was prepared—It would have required at least an hour, and I had barely reached it when the usual time of the Court’s adjournment came.—I was unwilling to encroach upon the time of the Court for half of a third day, so that I cramped into a very brief summary what I had to say upon that case, and ﬁnished with a very short personal address to the Court. They immediately adjourned, and went into the hall of the House of Representatives. Source: John Quincy Adams diary 41, March 1, 1841.

AMISTAD VERDICT RETURNED, MARCH 1, 1841 Judge Story delivered the opinions and decree of the Court in the case of the United States appellants vs. the Schooner Amistad. It afﬁrms the decision of the District and Circuit Courts, excepting with regard to the Negroes—It reverses the decision below placing them at the disposal of the President of the United States to be sent to Africa; declares them to be free and directs the Circuit Court to order them to be discharged from the custody of the Marshal—Judge Baldwin expressed some dissent from the opinion which I did not hear nor did I learn what it was—I went to the chamber of the Committee of Manufacturers and wrote to Mr. Roger S. Baldwin at New Haven and to Mr. Lewis Tappan of New York to inform them of the decision of the Court, and gave the letters to Mr. McCormick, the Postmaster of the House.—The Court had adjourned. —I went into the Senate chamber and heard a ﬁery debate … Henry Clay closed a short and intemperate speech by declaring some personalities uttered against him by William A. King of Alabama false—untrue—and cowardly. The Senate shortly after adjourned … and there was a rumour that King and Clay were both arrested by warrants from a magistrate. I went to the Ofﬁce of the Clerk of the Supreme Court and wrote a motion for a mandate to the Marshall of the District of Connecticut to discharge forthwith the Amistad captives from custody—I called on Mr. Crittenden the new Attorney General to ask his consent to this motion. He said he saw no objection to it. Source: Page 160, 185 [electronic edition]. The Diaries of John Quincy Adams: A Digital Collection. Boston: Massachusetts Historical Society, 2004. http://www.masshist.org/jqadiaries.

11. Illinois State Legislator Abraham Lincoln Opposes Slavery, March 3, 1837 At the age of 28, as an Illinois state legislator, Abraham Lincoln had already staked out what would become his signature stance on the slavery question: though he personally despised the institution, he also believed that the people of each state should determine whether the institution should exist in their state; Congress ought not interfere with the state’s decision. Thus, when the Illinois legislature passed a resolution condemning slavery and arguing for its abolition, Lincoln argued that such an action merely served to whip up fervor in favor of slavery. Leaving the issue alone

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would allow it to die off, in time. Though Lincoln would be outvoted seventy-seven to six on this matter, the consistency of his position on slavery is quite remarkable. Resolutions upon the subject of domestic slavery having passed both branches of the General Assembly at its present session, the undersigned hereby protest against the passage of the same. They believe that the institution of slavery is founded on both injustice and bad policy; but that the promulgation of abolition doctrines tends rather to increase than to abate its evils. They believe that the Congress of the United States has the power, under the constitution, to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia; but that that power ought not to be exercised unless at the request of the people of said District. The difference between these opinions and those contained in the said resolutions, is their reason for entering this protest. Dan Stone Abraham Lincoln March 3, 1837 Representatives from the county of Sangamon Source: TeachingAmericanHistory.org C 2006 Ashbrook Center for Public Affairs.

12. The Church and Prejudice, November 4, 1841 FREDERICK DOUGLASS Abolitionist Frederick Douglass delivered this speech before the Plymouth County Anti-Slavery Society, November 4, 1841, less than three months after he had attended the Anti-Slavery Convention on Nantucket Island, Massachusetts, at which he agreed to lecture for the Massachusetts Society. It is one of his ﬁrst recorded anti-slavery speeches. The Church and Prejudice Fighting Rebels With Only One Hand What the Black Man Wants At the South I was a member of the Methodist Church. When I came north, I thought one Sunday I would attend communion, at one of the churches of my denomination, in the town I was staying. The white people gathered round the altar, the blacks clustered by the door. After the good minister had served out the bread and wine to one portion of those near him, he said, ‘‘These may withdraw, and others come forward;’’ thus he proceeded till all the white members had been served. Then he took a long breath, and looking out towards the door, exclaimed, ‘‘Come up, colored friends, come up! for you know God is no respecter of persons!’’ I haven’t been there to see the sacraments taken since. At New Bedford, where I live, there was a great revival of religion not long ago—many were converted and ‘‘received’’ as they said, ‘‘into the kingdom of heaven.’’ But it seems, the kingdom of heaven is like a net; at least so it was according to the practice of these pious Christians; and when the net was drawn ashore,

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they had to set down and cull out the ﬁsh. Well, it happened now that some of the ﬁsh had rather black scales; so these were sorted out and packed by themselves. But among those who experienced religion at this time was a colored girl; she was baptized in the same water as the rest; so she thought she might sit at the Lord’s table and partake of the same sacramental elements with the others. The deacon handed round the cup, and when he came to the black girl, he could not pass her, for there was the minister looking right at him, and as he was a kind of abolitionist, the deacon was rather afraid of giving him offense; so he handed the girl the cup, and she tasted. Now it so happened that next to her sat a young lady who had been converted at the same time, baptized in the same water, and put her trust in the same blessed Saviour; yet when the cup containing the precious blood which had been shed for all, came to her, she rose in disdain, and walked out of the church. Such was the religion she had experienced! Another young lady fell into a trance. When she awoke, she declared she had been to heaven. Her friends were all anxious to know what and whom she had seen there; so she told the whole story. But there was one good old lady whose curiosity went beyond that of all the others—and she inquired of the girl that had the vision, if she saw any black folks in heaven? After some hesitation, the reply was, ‘‘Oh! I didn’t go into the kitchen!’’ Thus you see, my hearers, this prejudice goes even into the church of God. And there are those who carry it so far that it is disagreeable to them even to think of going to heaven, if colored people are going there too. And whence comes it? The grand cause is slavery; but there are others less prominent; one of them is the way in which children in this part of the country are instructed to regard the blacks. ‘‘Yes!’’ exclaimed an old gentleman, interrupting him—’’when they behave wrong, they are told, ‘black man come catch you.’’’ Yet people in general will say they like colored men as well as any other, but in their proper place! They assign us that place; they don’t let us do it for ourselves, nor will they allow us a voice in the decision. They will not allow that we have a head to think, and a heart to feel, and a soul to aspire. They treat us not as men, but as dogs—they cry ‘‘Stu-boy!’’ and expect us to run and do their bidding. That’s the way we are liked. You degrade us, and then ask why we are degraded—you shut our mouths, and then ask why we don’t speak—you close our colleges and seminaries against us, and then ask why we don’t know more. But all this prejudice sinks into insigniﬁcance in my mind, when compared with the enormous iniquity of the system which is its cause—the system that sold my four sisters and my brothers into bondage—and which calls in its priests to defend it even from the Bible! The slaveholding ministers preach up the divine right of the slaveholders to property in their fellow- men. The southern preachers say to the poor slave, ‘‘Oh! if you wish to be happy in time, happy in eternity, you must be obedient to your masters; their interest is yours. God made one portion of men to do the working, and another to do the thinking; how good God is! Now, you have no trouble or anxiety; but ah! you can’t imagine how perplexing it is to your masters and mistresses to have so much thinking to do in your behalf! You cannot appreciate your blessings; you know not how happy a thing it is for you, that you were born of that portion of the

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human family which has the working, instead of the thinking to do! Oh! how grateful and obedient you ought to be to your masters! How beautiful are the arrangements of Providence! Look at your hard, horny hands—see how nicely they are adapted to the labor you have to perform! Look at our delicate ﬁngers, so exactly ﬁtted for our station, and see how manifest it is that God designed us to be His thinkers, and you the workers—Oh! the wisdom of God!’’—I used to attend a Methodist church, in which my master was a class leader; he would talk most sanctimoniously about the dear Redeemer, who was sent ‘‘to preach deliverance to the captives, and set at liberty them that are bruised’’—he could pray at morning, pray at noon, and pray at night; yet he could lash up my poor cousin by his two thumbs, and inﬂict stripes and blows upon his bare back, till the blood streamed to the ground! all the time quoting scripture, for his authority, and appealing to that passage of the Holy Bible which says, ‘‘He that knoweth his master’s will, and doeth it not, shall be beaten with many stripes!’’ Such was the amount of this good Methodist’s piety. Source: Speech delivered at the Plymouth County Anti-Slavery Society, November 4, 1841. Foner, Philip S., ed., The Life and Writings of Frederick Douglass. Volume 1, pgs. 102–105. New York: International Publishers, 1950. Permission of International Publishers/New York.

13. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave, Written by Himself, 1845 From inauspicious beginnings, Frederick Douglass became the most well-known advocate of equal rights in the nineteenth century. Born into slavery on Maryland’s eastern shore in 1818, he was the son of a slave woman and an unknown white man. While working as a ship caulker, he taught himself to read. He escaped slavery, ﬂed to Europe, and became an abolitionist, orator, and publisher of an inﬂuential anti-slavery newspaper, The North Star. Years later, he wrote the following in a diary. A mere look, word, or motion,—a mistake, accident, or want of power,—are all matters for which a slave may be whipped at any time. Does a slave look dissatisﬁed? It is said, he has the devil in him, and it must be whipped out. Does he speak loudly when spoken to by his master? Then he is getting high-minded, and should be taken down a button- hole lower. Does he forget to pull off his hat at the approach of a white person? Then he is wanting in reverence, and should be whipped for it. Does he ever venture to vindicate his conduct, when censured for it? Then he is guilty of impudence,—one of the greatest crimes of which a slave can be guilty. Does he ever venture to suggest a different mode of doing things from that pointed out by his master? He is indeed presumptuous, and getting above himself.… Source: Boston: Published at the Anti-Slavery Ofﬁce, 1845. Project Gutenberg. Text retrieved from: http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/world/readﬁle?fk_ﬁles=216491.

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14. Farewell to the British People: An Address Delivered in London, England, March 30, 1847 FREDERICK DOUGLASS Former slave Frederick Douglass traveled widely throughout the world in his effort to ensure that slavery in the United States was abolished. After a tour of Europe, Douglass gave this farewell speech before embarking on board the Cambria. Upon his return to America, it was delivered at the valedictory soiree given to him at the London Tavern, on March 30, 1847. I do not go back to America to sit still, remain quiet, and enjoy ease and comfort.… I glory in the conﬂict, that I may hereafter exult in the victory. I know that victory is certain. I go, turning my back upon the ease, comfort, and respectability which I might maintain even here … Still, I will go back, for the sake of my brethren. I go to suffer with them; to toil with them; to endure insult with them; to undergo outrage with them; to lift up my voice in their behalf; to speak and write in their vindication; and struggle in their ranks for the emancipation which shall yet be achieved. Source: Foner, Philip S., ed., The Life and Writings of Frederick Douglass. Volume 1, pgs. 102–105. New York: International Publishers, 1950. Permission of International Publishers/New York.

15. Narrative of the life and adventures of Henry Bibb: an American slave, written by himself, 1849 Henry Walton Bibb was born in Kentucky to a slave mother and Kentucky state senator, James Bibb. Henry Bibb’s master hired young Henry out to several neighboring plantations, where he often was treated inhumanely. As an adult, Bibb was traded frequently, and he lived in at least seven southern states. After trying to escape several times, he ﬁnally reached Canada in 1837, only to return shortly thereafter to see his wife. His many later attempts to escape from slavery with his family were unsuccessful, and they were permanently separated in 1840. Bibb’s ﬁnal experience in slavery was with a humane Cherokee owner in the ‘‘Indian Territory’’ of Kansas or Oklahoma. On the night of his owner’s death, Bibb made a ﬁnal, successful escape through Missouri and Ohio. He eventually settled in Detroit in 1841 and became an active abolitionist and lecturer. Bibb and his second wife, abolitionist Mary Miles, were married in 1848 and ﬂed to Canada following the passing of the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850. Known as one of the most effective antislavery lecturers of his time, Bibb continued to be a leader in the black community in Canada. Henry W. Bibb’s autobiography, Narrative of the Life and Adventures of Henry Bibb, An American Slave (1849), elaborates on his life story, which he presented during his antislavery lectures. The text itself describes Bibb’s childhood as a slave and his many experiences in slavery. It ends shortly after he secured his freedom. CHAPTER 1 Henry Bibb writes an exquisitely eloquent personal memoir.

15. Narrative of the life and adventures of Henry Bibb 63

Sketch of my Parentage.—Early separation from my Mother.—Hard Fare.—First Experiments at running away.—Earnest longing for Freedom.—Abhorrent nature of Slavery. I was born May 1815, of a slave mother, in Shelby County, Kentucky, and was claimed as the property of David White Esq. He came into possession of my mother long before I was born. I was brought up in the Counties of Shelby, Henry, Oldham, and Trimble. Or, more correctly speaking, in the above counties, I may safely say, I was ﬂogged up; for where I should have received moral, mental, and religious instruction, I received stripes without number, the object of which was to degrade and keep me in subordination. I can truly say, that I drank deeply of the bitter cup of suffering and woe. I have been dragged down to the lowest depths of human degradation and wretchedness, by Slaveholders. My mother was known by the name of Milldred Jackson. She is the mother of seven slaves only, all being sons, of whom I am the eldest. She was also so fortunate or unfortunate, as to have some of what is called the slaveholding blood ﬂowing in her veins. I know not how much; but not enough to prevent her children though fathered by slaveholders, from being bought and sold in the slave markets of the South. It is almost impossible for slaves to give a correct account of their male parentage. All that I know about it is, that my mother informed me that my fathers name was James Bibb. He was doubtless one of the present Bibb family of Kentucky; but I have no personal knowledge of him at all, for he died before my recollection. The ﬁrst time I was separated from my mother, I was young and small. I knew nothing of my condition then as a slave. I was living with Mr. White whose wife died and left him a widower with one little girl, who was said to be the legitimate owner of my mother, and all her children. This girl was also my playmate when we were children. I was taken away from my mother, and hired out to labor for various persons, eight or ten years in succession; and all my wages were expended for the education of Harriet White, my playmate. It was then my sorrows and sufferings commenced. It was then I ﬁrst commenced seeing and feeling that I was a wretched slave, compelled to work under the lash without wages, and often without clothes enough to hide my nakedness. I have often worked without half enough to eat, both late and early, by day and by night. I have often laid my wearied limbs down at night to rest upon a dirt ﬂoor, or a bench, without any covering at all, because I had no where else to rest my wearied body, after having worked hard all the day. I have also been compelled in early life, to go at the bidding of a tyrant, through all kinds of weather, hot or cold, wet or dry, and without shoes frequently, until the month of December, with my bare feet on the cold frosty ground, cracked open and bleeding as I walked. Reader, believe me when I say, that no tongue, nor pen ever has or can express the horrors of American Slavery. Consequently I despair in ﬁnding language to express adequately the deep feeling of my soul, as I contemplate the past history of my life. But although I have suffered much from the lash, and for want of food and raiment; I confess that it was no disadvantage to be passed through the hands of so many families, as the only source of information that I had to enlighten my mind, consisted in what I could see and hear from others. Slaves were not allowed books, pen, ink, nor paper, to improve their minds. But it seems to me now, that I was particularly observing, and apt to retain what came under my observation. But more especially, all that I heard about liberty and freedom to the slaves,

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I never forgot. Among other good trades I learned the art of running away to perfection. I made a regular business of it, and never gave it up, until I had broken the bands of slavery, and landed myself safely in Canada, where I was regarded as a man, and not as a thing. The ﬁrst time in my life that I ran away, was for ill treatment, in 1825. I was living with a Mr. Vires, in the village of Newcastle. His wife was a very cross woman. She was every day ﬂogging me, boxing, pulling my ears, and scolding, so that I dreaded to enter the room where she was. This ﬁrst started me to running away from them. I was often gone several days before I was caught. They would abuse me for going off, but it did no good. The next time they ﬂogged me, I was off again; but after awhile they got sick of their bargain, and returned me back into the hands of my owners. By this time Mr. White had married his second wife. She was what I call a tyrant. I lived with her several months, but she kept me almost half of my time in the woods, running from under the bloody lash. While I was at home she kept me all the time rubbing furniture, washing, scrubbing the ﬂoors; and when I was not doing this, she would often seat herself in a large rocking chair, with two pillows about her, and would make me rock her, and keep off the ﬂies. She was too lazy to scratch her own head, and would often make me scratch and comb it for her. She would at other times lie on her bed, in warm weather, and make me fan her while she slept, scratch and rub her feet; but after awhile she got sick of me, and preferred a maiden servant to do such business. I was then hired out again; but by this time I had become much better skilled in running away, and would make calculation to avoid detection, by taking with me a bridle. If any body should see me in the woods, as they have, and asked ‘‘what are you doing here sir? you are a runaway?’’—I said, ‘‘no, sir, I am looking for our old mare;’’ at other times, ‘‘looking for our cows.’’ For such excuses I was let pass. In fact, the only weapon of self defence that I could use successfully, was that of deception. It is useless for a poor helpless slave, to resist a white man in a slaveholding State. Public opinion and the law is against him; and resistance in many cases is death to the slave, while the law declares, that he shall submit or die. The circumstances in which I was then placed, gave me a longing desire to be free. It kindled a ﬁre of liberty within my breast which has never yet been quenched. This seemed to be a part of my nature; it was ﬁrst revealed to me by the inevitable laws of nature’s God. I could see that the All-wise Creator, had made man a free, moral, intelligent and accountable being; capable of knowing good and evil. And I believed then, as I believe now, that every man has a right to wages for his labor; a right to his own wife and children; a right to liberty and the pursuit of happiness; and a right to worship God according to the dictates of his own conscience. But here, in the light of these truths, I was a slave, a prisoner for life; I could possess nothing, nor acquire anything but what must belong to my keeper. No one can imagine my feelings in my reﬂecting moments, but he who has himself been a slave. Oh! I have often wept over my condition, while sauntering through the forest, to escape cruel punishment. ‘‘No arm to protect me from tyrants aggression; No parents to cheer me when laden with grief. Man may picture the bounds of the rocks and the rivers, The hills and the valleys, the lakes and the ocean, But the horrors of slavery, he never can trace.’’

16. Excerpted from ‘‘Uncle Tom’s Story of His Life’’ 65

The term slave to this day sounds with terror to my soul,—a word too obnoxious to speak—a system too intolerable to be endured. I know this from long and sad experience. I now feel as if I had just been aroused from sleep, and looking back with quickened perception at the state of torment from whence I ﬂed. I was there held and claimed as a slave; as such I was subjected to the will and power of my keeper, in all respects whatsoever. That the slave is a human being, no one can deny. It is his lot to be exposed in common with other men, to the calamities of sickness, death, and the misfortunes incident to life. But unlike other men, he is denied the consolation of struggling against external difﬁculties, such as destroy the life, liberty, and happiness of himself and family. A slave may be bought and sold in the market like an ox. He is liable to be sold off to a distant land from his family. He is bound in chains hand and foot; and his sufferings are aggravated a hundred fold, by the terrible thought, that he is not allowed to struggle against misfortune, corporeal punishment, insults and outrages committed upon himself and family; and he is not allowed to help himself, to resist or escape the blow, which he sees impending over him. This idea of utter helplessness, in perpetual bondage, is the more distressing, as there is no period even with the remotest generation when it shall terminate. Source: With an introduction by Lucius C. Matlack. New York: Henry Bibb, 1849. Library of Congress Rare Book and Special Collections Division, African American Odyssey Collection.

16. Excerpted from ‘‘Uncle Tom’s Story of His Life,’’ an Autobiography of the Rev. Josiah Henson (Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe’s ‘‘Uncle Tom’’), from 1789 to 1876 Josiah Henson spent thirty years on a plantation in Montgomery County, Maryland, before he escaped slavery and became a Methodist preacher, abolitionist, lecturer, and founder of a cooperative colony of former slaves in Canada. His memoirs were published in 1849 and are said to have been the basis for the novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe. The following is an excerpt: My earliest employments were, to carry buckets of water to the men at work, and to hold a horse-plough, used for weeding between the rows of corn. As I grew older and taller, I was entrusted with the care of master’s saddle-horse. Then a hoe was put into my hands, and I was soon required to do the day’s work of a man; and it was not long before I could do it, at least as well as my associates in misery. A description of the everyday life of a slave on a southern plantation illustrates the character and habits of the slave and the slaveholder, created and perpetuated by their relative position. The principal food of those upon my master’s plantation consisted of corn-meal and salt herrings; to which was added in summer a little buttermilk, and the few vegetables which each might raise for himself and his family, on the little piece of ground which was assigned to him for the purpose, called a truck- patch. In ordinary times we had two regular meals in a day: breakfast at twelve o’clock, after laboring from daylight, and supper when the work of the remainder of the day was over. In harvest season we had three. Our dress was of tow-cloth; for the

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children, nothing but a shirt; for the older ones a pair of pantaloons or a gown in addition, according to the sex. Besides these, in the winter a round jacket or overcoat, a wool- hat once in two or three years, for the males, and a pair of coarse shoes once a year. We lodged in log huts, and on the bare ground. Wooden ﬂoors were an unknown luxury. In a single room were huddled, like cattle, ten or a dozen persons, men, women, and children. All ideas of reﬁnement and decency were, of course, out of the question. We had neither bedsteads, nor furniture of any description. Our beds were collections of straw and old rags, thrown down in the corners and boxed in with boards; a single blanket the only covering. Our favourite way of sleeping, however, was on a plank, our heads raised on an old jacket and our feet toasting before the smouldering ﬁre. The wind whistled and the rain and snow blew in through the cracks, and the damp earth soaked in the moisture till the ﬂoor was miry as a pigsty. Such were our houses. In these wretched hovels were we penned at night, and fed by day; here were the children born and the sick—neglected. Source: London, 1877.

17. The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro, July 5, 1852 FREDERICK DOUGLASS During the 1850s, abolitionist Frederick Douglass typically spent about six months of the year traveling extensively and giving lectures. During one winter—the winter of 1855–1856—he gave about seventy lectures during a tour that covered four to ﬁve thousand miles. And his speaking engagements did not halt at the end of a tour. From his home in Rochester, New York, he took part in local abolition-related events. On July 5, 1852, Douglass gave a speech at an event commemorating the signing of the Declaration of Independence, held at Rochester’s Corinthian Hall. The speech was full of biting oratory, in which Douglass told his audience, ‘‘This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn.’’ And he asked them, ‘‘Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day?’’ Recognized as one of Douglass’ most impassioned speeches, this address focuses on the evils of the controversial Fugitive Slave Law passed by Congress in 1850. Fellow Citizens, I am not wanting in respect for the fathers of this republic. The signers of the Declaration of Independence were brave men. They were great men, too great enough to give frame to a great age. It does not often happen to a nation to raise, at one time, such a number of truly great men. The point from which I am compelled to view them is not, certainly, the most favorable; and yet I cannot contemplate their great deeds with less than admiration. They were statesmen, patriots and heroes, and for the good they did, and the principles they contended for, I will unite with you to honor their memory.… … Fellow-citizens, pardon me, allow me to ask, why am I called upon to speak here to-day? What have I, or those I represent, to do with your national independence? Are the great principles of political freedom and of natural justice, embodied in that Declaration of Independence, extended to us? and am I, therefore, called upon to bring our humble offering to the national altar, and to confess the beneﬁts

17. The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro, July 5, 1852

and express devout gratitude for the blessings resulting from your independence to us? Would to God, both for your sakes and ours, that an afﬁrmative answer could be truthfully returned to these questions! Then would my task be light, and my burden easy and delightful. For who is there so cold, that a nation’s sympathy could not warm him? Who so obdurate and dead to the claims of gratitude, that would not thankfully acknowledge such priceless beneﬁts? Who so stolid and selﬁsh, that would not give his voice to swell the hallelujahs of a nation’s jubilee, when the chains of servitude had been torn from his limbs? I am not that man. In a case like that, the dumb might eloquently speak, and the ‘‘lame man leap as an hart.’’ But such is not the state of the case. I say it with a sad sense of the disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice, are not enjoyed in common. The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence, bequeathed by your fathers, is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought light and healing to you, has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony. Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day? If so, there is a parallel to your conduct. And let me warn you that it is dangerous to copy the example of a nation whose crimes, towering up to heaven, were thrown down by the breath of the Almighty, burying that nation in irrevocable ruin! I can to-day take up the plaintive lament of a peeled and woe-smitten people! ‘‘By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yea! we wept when we remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof. For there, they that carried us away captive, required of us a song; and they who wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth.’’ Fellow-citizens, above your national, tumultuous joy, I hear the mournful wail of millions! whose chains, heavy and grievous yesterday, are, to-day, rendered more intolerable by the jubilee shouts that reach them. If I do forget, if I do not faithfully remember those bleeding children of sorrow this day, ‘‘may my right hand forget her cunning, and may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth!‘‘ To forget them, to pass lightly over their wrongs, and to chime in with the popular theme, would be treason most scandalous and shocking, and would make me a reproach before God and the world. My subject, then, fellow-citizens, is American slavery. I shall see this day and its popular characteristics from the slave’s point of view. Standing there identiﬁed with the American bondman, making his wrongs mine, I do not hesitate to declare, with all my soul, that the character and conduct of this nation never looked blacker to me than on this 4th of July! Whether we turn to the declarations of the past, or to the professions of the present, the conduct of the nation seems equally hideous and revolting. America is false to the past, false to the present, and solemnly binds herself to be false to the future. Standing with God and the crushed and bleeding slave on this occasion, I will, in the name of humanity which is outraged, in the name of liberty which is fettered, in the name of the constitution and the Bible which are disregarded and trampled upon, dare to call in question and to

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denounce, with all the emphasis I can command, everything that serves to perpetuate slavery the great sin and shame of America! ‘‘I will not equivocate; I will not excuse’’; I will use the severest language I can command; and yet not one word shall escape me that any man, whose judgment is not blinded by prejudice, or who is not at heart a slaveholder, shall not confess to be right and just. But I fancy I hear some one of my audience say, ‘‘It is just in this circumstance that you and your brother abolitionists fail to make a favorable impression on the public mind. Would you argue more, and denounce less; would you persuade more, and rebuke less; your cause would be much more likely to succeed.’’ But, I submit, where all is plain there is nothing to be argued. What point in the anti-slavery creed would you have me argue? On what branch of the subject do the people of this country need light? Must I undertake to prove that the slave is a man? That point is conceded already. Nobody doubts it. The slaveholders themselves acknowledge it in the enactment of laws for their government. They acknowledge it when they punish disobedience on the part of the slave. There are seventy-two crimes in the State of Virginia which, if committed by a black man (no matter how ignorant he be), subject him to the punishment of death; while only two of the same crimes will subject a white man to the like punishment. What is this but the acknowledgment that the slave is a moral, intellectual, and responsible being? The manhood of the slave is conceded. It is admitted in the fact that Southern statute books are covered with enactments forbidding, under severe ﬁnes and penalties, the teaching of the slave to read or to write. When you can point to any such laws in reference to the beasts of the ﬁeld, then I may consent to argue the manhood of the slave. When the dogs in your streets, when the fowls of the air, when the cattle on your hills, when the ﬁsh of the sea, and the reptiles that crawl, shall be unable to distinguish the slave from a brute, then will I argue with you that the slave is a man! For the present, it is enough to afﬁrm the equal manhood of the Negro race. Is it not astonishing that, while we are ploughing, planting, and reaping, using all kinds of mechanical tools, erecting houses, constructing bridges, building ships, working in metals of brass, iron, copper, silver and gold; that, while we are reading, writing and ciphering, acting as clerks, merchants and secretaries, having among us lawyers, doctors, ministers, poets, authors, editors, orators and teachers; that, while we are engaged in all manner of enterprises common to other men, digging gold in California, capturing the whale in the Paciﬁc, feeding sheep and cattle on the hill-side, living, moving, acting, thinking, planning, living in families as husbands, wives and children, and, above all, confessing and worshipping the Christian’s God, and looking hopefully for life and immortality beyond the grave, we are called upon to prove that we are men! Would you have me argue that man is entitled to liberty? that he is the rightful owner of his own body? You have already declared it. Must I argue the wrongfulness of slavery? Is that a question for Republicans? Is it to be settled by the rules of logic and argumentation, as a matter beset with great difﬁculty, involving a doubtful application of the principle of justice, hard to be understood? How should I look today, in the presence of Americans, dividing, and subdividing a discourse, to show that men have a natural right to freedom? speaking of it relatively and positively, negatively and afﬁrmatively. To do so, would be to make myself ridiculous, and to offer an insult to your understanding. There is not a man beneath the canopy of heaven that does not know that slavery is wrong for him.

17. The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro, July 5, 1852

What, am I to argue that it is wrong to make men brutes, to rob them of their liberty, to work them without wages, to keep them ignorant of their relations to their fellow men, to beat them with sticks, to ﬂay their ﬂesh with the lash, to load their limbs with irons, to hunt them with dogs, to sell them at auction, to sunder their families, to knock out their teeth, to burn their ﬂesh, to starve them into obedience and submission to their masters? Must I argue that a system thus marked with blood, and stained with pollution, is wrong? No! I will not. I have better employment for my time and strength than such arguments would imply. What, then, remains to be argued? Is it that slavery is not divine; that God did not establish it; that our doctors of divinity are mistaken? There is blasphemy in the thought. That which is inhuman, cannot be divine! Who can reason on such a proposition? They that can, may; I cannot. The time for such argument is passed. At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument, is needed. O! Had I the ability, and could reach the nation’s ear, I would, to-day, pour out a ﬁery stream of biting ridicule, blasting reproach, withering sarcasm, and stern rebuke. For it is not light that is needed, but ﬁre; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake. The feeling of the nation must be quickened; the conscience of the nation must be roused; the propriety of the nation must be startled; the hypocrisy of the nation must be exposed; and its crimes against God and man must be proclaimed and denounced. What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants, brass fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are, to Him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy—a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour. Go where you may, search where you will, roam through all the monarchies and despotisms of the Old World, travel through South America, search out every abuse, and when you have found the last, lay your facts by the side of the everyday practices of this nation, and you will say with me, that, for revolting barbarity and shameless hypocrisy, America reigns without a rival.… … Allow me to say, in conclusion, notwithstanding the dark picture I have this day presented, of the state of the nation, I do not despair of this country. There are forces in operation which must inevitably work the downfall of slavery. ‘‘The arm of the Lord is not shortened,’’ and the doom of slavery is certain. I, therefore, leave off where I began, with hope. While drawing encouragement from ‘‘the Declaration of Independence,’’ the great principles it contains, and the genius of American Institutions, my spirit is also cheered by the obvious tendencies of the age. Nations do not now stand in the same relation to each other that they did ages ago. No nation can now shut itself up from the surrounding world and trot round in the same old path of its fathers without interference. The time was when such could be done. Long established customs of hurtful character could formerly fence themselves in, and do their evil work with social impunity. Knowledge was then conﬁned and

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enjoyed by the privileged few, and the multitude walked on in mental darkness. But a change has now come over the affairs of mankind. Walled cities and empires have become unfashionable. The arm of commerce has borne away the gates of the strong city. Intelligence is penetrating the darkest corners of the globe. It makes its pathway over and under the sea, as well as on the earth. Wind, steam, and lightning are its chartered agents. Oceans no longer divide, but link nations together. From Boston to London is now a holiday excursion. Space is comparatively annihilated.— Thoughts expressed on one side of the Atlantic are distinctly heard on the other. The far off and almost fabulous Paciﬁc rolls in grandeur at our feet. The Celestial Empire, the mystery of ages, is being solved. The ﬁat of the Almighty, ‘‘Let there be Light,’’ has not yet spent its force. No abuse, no outrage whether in taste, sport or avarice, can now hide itself from the all-pervading light. The iron shoe, and crippled foot of China must be seen in contrast with nature. Africa must rise and put on her yet unwoven garment. ‘‘Ethiopia, shall, stretch out her hand unto God.’’ In the fervent aspirations of William Lloyd Garrison, I say, and let every heart join in saying it:

God speed the year of jubilee The wide world o’er! When from their galling chains set free, Th’ oppress’d shall vilely bend the knee, And wear the yoke of tyranny Like brutes no more. That year will come, and freedom’s reign, To man his plundered rights again Restore. God speed the day when human blood Shall cease to ﬂow! In every clime be understood, The claims of human brotherhood, And each return for evil, good, Not blow for blow; That day will come all feuds to end, And change into a faithful friend Each foe. God speed the hour, the glorious hour, When none on earth Shall exercise a lordly power, Nor in a tyrant’s presence cower; But to all manhood’s stature tower, By equal birth! That hour will come, to each, to all, And from his Prison-house, to thrall Go forth. Until that year, day, hour, arrive, With head, and heart, and hand I’ll strive, To break the rod, and rend the gyve, The spoiler of his prey deprive—

18. Choice Thoughts and Utterances of Wise Colored People

So witness Heaven! And never from my chosen post, Whate’er the peril or the cost, Be driven. Source: The Life and Writings of Frederick Douglass, Volume II, Pre-Civil War Decade 1850–1860, Philip S. Foner. International Publishers Co. Inc.: New York, 1950. Permission of International Publishers/New York.

18. Choice Thoughts and Utterances of Wise Colored People Centuries of conditioning left Americans, both black and white, unprepared to begin thinking of the millions of former slaves, their children, and the cultures they created, as full, able-bodied citizens. Theories touting racial inferiority and aimed at stripping African Americans’ equal rights reigned throughout the nation. Racial segregation was a fact of life for decades after slavery ofﬁcially ended. The de facto poverty experienced by a majority of blacks in America was like a tattoo that branded every black citizen as inferior near the end of the nineteenth century. Erasing this negative image became the work of emerging black ﬁgures such as W. E. B. DuBois, Booker T. Washington, union leader A. Philip Randolph, Marcus Garvey, and many others at the start of the twentieth century. In their own ways, newspaper editors, political thinkers, and social thinkers all sought ways to create a deeper understanding of race and how it impacted the daily lives of African Americans. Their task was to ignite self-awareness in African Americans who still thought of themselves as second-class American citizens and to confront a tangled web of racial issues that confronted all Americans. These issues became the centerpieces for the rhetoric delivered by newly formed groups such as the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the Urban League, union organizations, and nationalistic movements which sprang up as these issues sparked debate everywhere. Phrases and slogans aimed at raising self awareness and self esteem were common in newspapers, church bulletins, and other means of communication. Hundreds of African American newspapers were published in major cities and small towns across the nation as the African American press grew and ﬂourished in this racially charged atmosphere. Thoughtless Bondage: To make a contented slave you must make a thoughtless one. Source: Frederick Douglass, My Bondage, My Freedom, Part I. Life as a Slave. Part II. Life as a Freeman. New York: Miller, Orton & Mulligan, 1855.

Angelic Train: Christian Negroes, black as Cain, may be reﬁned and join the angelic train. Source: Phillis Wheatley, On being brought from Africa to America, Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral, 1773.

Sizing Up: A man who wants to know his own strength, he need not measure himself. He needs only to size up the fellows who are pulling against him to ﬁnd out how strong he is. Source: Bishop Grant, (Abraham L. Grant) 1847–1911, bishop of the African Methodist Episcopal Church.

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Ignorance and Poverty: We cannot go to Africa and succeed with all our ignorance and poverty. Let our big men set out to break down immorality among Negroes and white folks. Get Negroes to have more reﬁnement and race pride, use Negro books and papers, hang Negro pictures on their walls; get up Negro industries and give deserving colored men and women employment; break down superstition and mistrust. Get Negroes to act decently both publicly and privately. Source: Anon. quote, Athen’s (GA) Clipper, edited and published by S. A. Davis, 1887–1912.

Truth: Flirting with the truth is the modest way of calling a man a liar without making him mad. Source: Editor, The Gazette, Texas. 19th Century.

Station in Life: Christian education and wealth is the colored man’s only savior. Those two things acquired will do more to adjust his station in life than any two acquisitions imaginable. Source: Editor, Knoxville Gleaner, 19th Century.

Negroes: Negroes are more religious than white folks. They are more emotional. Emotion is not a virtue, for some emotionalists are sadly wanting in all the virtues. Source: Editor, Nashville Citizen, 19th Century.

Pagans and Christians: I am exceedingly anxious that every young colored man and woman should keep a hopeful and cheerful spirit as to the future. Despite all of our disadvantages and hardships, ever since our fore-fathers set foot upon American soil as slaves, our pathway has been marked by progress. Think of it. We went into slavery pagans; we came out Christians. We went into slavery a piece of property; we came out American citizens. We went into slavery without a language; we came out speaking the proud Anglo-Saxon tongue. We went into slavery with slave chains clanking about our wrists; we came out with the American ballot in our hands. Source: Quote from Booker T. Washington, lecture at Fisk University, Nashville, TN. Spring, 1895.

Silent Voices: There is not a single Negro in the United States on the road to practical truth, so far as his race is concerned. He feels something in him; his instincts point to it, but he cannot act out what he feels. And when he has made up his mind to remain in America, he has also made up his mind to surrender his race integrity; for he sees no chance of its preservation. Source: Quote from Edward Wilmot Blyden, Christianity, Islam and the Negro Race. London: W. B. Whittingham & Co., 1888.

Prohibition: ‘‘Give the women a free use of the ballot and the Upas tree of intemperance will be hewn down by the axe of prohibition.’’ Source: Quote from Mrs. M.A. McCurdy, 19th century.

Earnest Purpose: Inﬂuences may be set at work in your life and in mine, supported by an earnest purpose, which, like a mighty anthem, shall swell and expand, increasing in volume and sweetness as it makes its way adown the years—drawing men through the power of that Christian education which has been emphasized in us, to recognize the beauty of knowledge and wisdom, ‘‘whose ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace.’’ Source: Quote from Rev. George C. Rowe Clinton, 19th century.

18. Choice Thoughts and Utterances of Wise Colored People

On Culture: ‘‘There is a mistaken idea that ‘culture’ means to paint a little, sing a little, dance a little, put on haughty airs, and to quote passages from popular books. It means nothing of the kind. Culture means politeness, charity, fairness, good temper and good conduct. Culture is not a thing to make a display of; it is something to use so moderately that people do not discover all at once that you have it.’’ Source: Quote from Editor, Colored American, 19th century.

On Women: While man can boast of great physical strength, skill and bull dog courage, woman carries in her weak frame a moral courage very seldom found among men. If our race is to be a great race in this great nation of races, our women must be largely instrumental in making it so. Source: Quote from American Baptist, 19th century.

On Reading: Reading is to the mind what eating is to the body. So to eat without giving nature time to assimulate is to rob her, ﬁrst of health, then life; so to read without reﬂecting is to cram the intellect and paralyze the mind. In all cases, dear friends, reﬂect more than you read, in order to present what you read to your hearers. Source: Quote from S. A. Wesson, Lincolnville, S. C., 19th century.

On Being Negro: Let us as Negroes educate; let us survive; let us live up to our opportunities of doing good to ourselves and to others, so shall we work out a glorious destiny upon earth, and contribute our share of the good and great immorals out of every nation, that shall take their places among ‘‘the spirits of just men made perfect who are without fault before the throne.’’ Source: Quote from Rev. Wm. D. Johnson, D.D., Athens, GA, 19th century.

Back to Africa: ‘‘It will be a serious step for Africa, the emigrants themselves and the cause of Christianity for any great number of Negroes who do not know the primary principles of the Christian religion, and the rudiments of self-government to migrate to that dark continent. None but the very best people should go to Africa— none but wise and industrious Christians should be encouraged nor induced to go to that benighted land.’’ Source: Quote from Professor Floyd, 19th century.

Exiled: The exiled Negro in the Western Hemisphere, in spite of slavery, in spite of bitter prejudices, the dark passions of which he has been the victim, has come under inﬂuences which have given him the elements of a noble civilization. The seed of a spiritual, intellectual, industrial life has been planted in his bosom, which, when he is transferred to the land of his fathers, will grow up into beauty, expand into ﬂower, and develop into fruit which the world will be glad to welcome. Source: Quote from Edward Wilmot Blyden, 19th century.

On Debate: A potent factor for the elevation of the Negro that can be wielded to better advantage in literary and debating societies than by any other channel in the disseminating and encouragement of Negro literature among the masses, for there is no intermediate agency that will instill race pride, race conﬁdence and race co-operation in the Negro faster than reading race books and race papers. Source: Quote from Chas. V. Monk, Philadelphia, 19th century.

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On Character: ‘‘Character possession is as essential to a people as to an individual. That is to say, the race without a greater percentage of moral worth on its side is as helpless and hopeless as the man or woman devoid of the same attribute of strength and greatness. Those nations and peoples with centuries of history behind them need not be so careful in the matter of virtuous conduct as those who have made none or but little headway on the road to civilization and race grandeur. The Afro-American youth therefore would do well to rid himself of the delusions that he can afford to follow in the wake of his dominant Caucasian companion so far as vice and immorality are involved. Japhet has reveled in success so long and maintains such a grasp on the reins of universal mastery at present, that he can with more propriety afford to take a day off than can his unfortunate brother of Hamitic descent. From pulpits, lecture stands, lyceums, tracts, books, papers, club rooms and every other medium of reaching them, our young men should be given to understand that they can ignore the claims of morality, virtue and religion only at the greatest peril. Cards, dice, drink and dissipation in numberless forms may be indulged in by the weak ones of the stronger race, but those of our weaker race who would be strong must avoid these vices as they would shun poison.’’ Source: Quote from Rev. H. T. Johnson, Editor, Christian Recorder, 19th century.

All quotations listed above were also published in: Afro-American encyclopedia, or, the thoughts, doings, and sayings of the race: embracing addresses, lectures, biographical sketches, sermons, poems, names of universities, colleges, seminaries, newspapers, books, and a history of the denominations, giving the numerical strength of each. In fact, it teaches every subject of interest to the colored people, as discussed by more than one hundred of their wisest and best men and women. Compiled and arranged by James T. Haley. Nashville, Tenn.: Haley & Florida, 1895. Source: Documenting the American South, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 2000. Electronic edition available at: http://docsouth.unc.edu/church/haley/haley.html.

19. Essay on Slavery Conditions, 1856 FRANCIS HENDERSON In 1841, Francis Henderson was 19 when he escaped from a slave plantation outside of Washington, D.C. In this essay ﬁfteen years later, he describes the conditions he encountered on a plantation so close to the seat of government for a land where freedom had always been the most cherished ideal—except for millions of men like Henderson. ‘‘MY BEDSTEAD CONSISTED OF A BOARD WIDE ENOUGH TO SLEEP ON’’ Our houses were but log huts—the tops partly open—ground ﬂoor—rain would come through. My aunt was quite an old woman, and had been sick several years; in rains I have seen her moving from one part of the house to the other, and rolling her bedclothes about to try to keep dry—everything would be dirty and muddy. I lived in the house with my aunt. My bed and bedstead consisted of a board wide enough to sleep on—one end on a stool, the other placed near the ﬁre. My pillow consisted of my jacket—my covering was whatever I could get. My bedtick was the board itself. And this was the way the single men slept—but we were comfortable in

20. Supreme Court of the United States in Dred Scott v. John F. Sanford, March 6, 1857 75

this way of sleeping, being used to it. I only remember having but one blanket from my owners up to the age of nineteen, when I ran away. Our allowance was given weekly—a peck of sifted corn meal, a dozen and a half herrings, two and a half pounds of pork. Some of the boys would eat this up in three days—then they had to steal, or they could not perform their daily tasks. They would visit the hog- pen, sheep- pen, and granaries. I do not remember one slave but who stole some things—they were driven to it as a matter of necessity. I myself did this—many a time have I, with others, run among the stumps in chase of a sheep, that we might have something to eat.… In regard to cooking, sometimes many have to cook at one ﬁre, and before all could get to the ﬁre to bake hoe cakes, the overseer’s horn would sound: then they must go at any rate. Many a time I have gone along eating a piece of bread and meat, or herring broiled on the coals—I never sat down at a table to eat except at harvest time, all the time I was a slave. In harvest time, the cooking is done at the great house, as the hands they have are wanted in the ﬁeld. This was more like people, and we liked it, for we sat down then at meals. In the summer we had one pair of linen trousers given us—nothing else; every fall, one pair of woolen pantaloons, one woolen jacket, and two cotton shirts. My master had four sons in his family. They all left except one, who remained to be a driver. He would often come to the ﬁeld and accuse the slave of having taken so and so. If we denied it, he would whip the grown- up ones to make them own it. Many a time, when we didn’t know he was anywhere around, he would be in the woods watching us—ﬁrst thing we would know, he would be sitting on the fence looking down upon us, and if any had been idle, the young master would visit him with blows. I have known him to kick my aunt, an old woman who had raised and nursed him, and I have seen him punish my sisters awfully with hickories from the woods. The slaves are watched by the patrols, who ride about to try to catch them off the quarters, especially at the house of a free person of color. I have known the slaves to stretch clothes lines across the street, high enough to let the horse pass, but not the rider; then the boys would run, and the patrols in full chase would be thrown off by running against the lines. The patrols are poor white men, who live by plundering and stealing, getting rewards for runaways, and setting up little shops on the public roads. They will take whatever the slaves steal, paying in money, whiskey, or whatever the slaves want. They take pigs, sheep, wheat, corn—any thing that’s raised they encourage the slaves to steal: these they take to market next day. It’s all speculation—all a matter of self- interest, and when the slaves run away, these same traders catch them if they can, to get the reward. If the slave threatens to expose his trafﬁc, he does not care—for the slave’s word is good for nothing—it would not be taken. Source: Benjamin Drew, A North-Side View of Slavery. Boston: J. P. Jewett and Company, 1856.

20. Supreme Court of the United States in Dred Scott v. John F. Sanford, March 6, 1857 Dred Scott and his lawyers claimed that the U.S. Constitution protected his rights to freedom as a citizen in an appeal of a lower court ruling to the U.S. Supreme Court. In Scott v. Sanford the Court states that Scott should remain a slave, that as a slave he is not a citizen of the United States and thus not eligible to bring suit in

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a federal court, and that as a slave he is personal property and thus has never been free. U.S. Supreme Court Chief Justice Roger B. Taney, speaking for the majority, stated the following: ‘‘… We think they [people of African ancestry] are … not included, and were not intended to be included, under the word ‘‘citizens’’ in the Constitution, and can therefore claim none of the rights and privileges which that instrument provides for and secures to citizens of the United States.…’’ Source: TeachingAmericanHistory.org C 2006 Ashbrook Center for Public Affairs.

21. Speech by Abraham Lincoln on the Dred Scott Decision and Slavery, June 26, 1857 In one of the most telling speeches regarding his position on slavery, Abraham Lincoln’s address on the Dred Scott decision explains his view of what was known as ‘‘popular sovereignty’’; this concept was that each territory or state would determine whether slavery would exist within its boundaries. Lincoln’s speech was well received, catapulting him into a famous campaign for the U.S. Senate against Stephen Douglas in 1858. Though Lincoln would lose that election, his campaigning and speaking skills would distinguish him as a possible presidential candidate for the Republican Party in 1860. Fellow Citizens: I am here tonight, partly by the invitation of some of you, and partly by my own inclination. Two weeks ago Judge Douglas spoke here on the several subjects of Kansas, the Dred Scott decision, and Utah. I listened to the speech at the time, and have read the report of it since. Abraham Lincoln June 26, 1857 Speech at Springﬁeld, Illinois It was intended to controvert opinions which I think just, and to assail (politically, not personally,) those men who, in common with me, entertain those opinions. For this reason I wished then, and still wish, to make some answer to it, which I now take the opportunity of doing. I begin with Utah. If it prove to be true, as is probable, that the people of Utah are in open rebellion to the United States, then Judge Douglas is in favor of repealing their territorial organization, and attaching them to the adjoining States for judicial purposes. I say, too, if they are in rebellion, they ought to be somehow coerced to obedience; and I am not now prepared to admit or deny that the Judge’s mode of coercing them is not as good as any. The Republicans can fall in with it without taking back anything they have ever said. To be sure, it would be a considerable backing down by Judge Douglas from his much vaunted doctrine of self-government for the territories; but this is only additional proof of what was very plain from the beginning, that that doctrine was a mere deceitful pretense for the beneﬁt of slavery. Those who could not see that much in the Nebraska act itself, which forced Governors, and Secretaries, and Judges on the people of the territories, without their choice or consent, could not be made to see, though one should rise from the dead to testify. But in all this, it is very plain the Judge evades the only question the Republicans have ever pressed upon the Democracy in regard to Utah. That question the Judge

21. Speech by Abraham Lincoln on the Dred Scott Decision and Slavery, June 26, 1857

well knows to be this: ‘‘If the people of Utah shall peacefully form a State Constitution tolerating polygamy, will the Democracy admit them into the Union?’’ There is nothing in the United States Constitution or law against polygamy; and why is it not a part of the Judge’s ‘‘sacred right of self-government’’ for that people to have it, or rather to keep it, if they choose? These questions, so far as I know, the Judge never answers. It might involve the Democracy to answer them either way, and they go unanswered. As to Kansas. The substance of the Judge’s speech on Kansas is an effort to put the free State men in the wrong for not voting at the election of delegates to the Constitutional Convention. He says: ‘‘There is every reason to hope and believe that the law will be fairly interpreted and impartially executed, so as to insure to every bona ﬁde inhabitant the free and quiet exercise of the elective franchise.’’ It appears extraordinary that Judge Douglas should make such a statement. He knows that, by the law, no one can vote who has not been registered; and he knows that the free State men place their refusal to vote on the ground that but few of them have been registered. It is possible this is not true, but Judge Douglas knows it is asserted to be true in letters, newspapers and public speeches, and borne by every mail, and blown by every breeze to the eyes and ears of the world. He knows it is boldly declared that the people of many whole counties, and many whole neighborhoods in others, are left unregistered; yet, he does not venture to contradict the declaration, nor to point out how they can vote without being registered; but he just slips along, not seeming to know there is any such question of fact, and complacently declares: ‘‘There is every reason to hope and believe that the law will be fairly and impartially executed, so as to insure to every bona ﬁde inhabitant the free and quiet exercise of the elective franchise.’’ I readily agree that if all had a chance to vote, they ought to have voted. If, on the contrary, as they allege, and Judge Douglas ventures not to particularly contradict, few only of the free State men had a chance to vote, they were perfectly right in staying from the polls in a body. By the way since the Judge spoke, the Kansas election has come off. The Judge expressed his conﬁdence that all the Democrats in Kansas would do their duty— including ‘‘free state Democrats’’ of course. The returns received here as yet are very incomplete; but so far as they go, they indicate that only about one sixth of the registered voters, have really voted; and this too, when not more, perhaps, than one half of the rightful voters have been registered, thus showing the thing to have been altogether the most exquisite farce ever enacted. I am watching with considerable interest, to ascertain what ﬁgure ‘‘the free state Democrats’’ cut in the concern. Of course they voted—all democrats do their duty—and of course they did not vote for slavestate candidates. We soon shall know how many delegates they elected, how many candidates they had, pledged for a free state; and how many votes were cast for them. Allow me to barely whisper my suspicion that there were no such things in Kansas ‘‘as free state Democrats’’—that they were altogether mythical, good only to ﬁgure in newspapers and speeches in the free states. If there should prove to be one real living free state Democrat in Kansas, I suggest that it might be well to catch him, and stuff and preserve his skin, as an interesting specimen of that soon to be extinct variety of the genus, Democrat. And now as to the Dred Scott decision. That decision declares two propositions—ﬁrst, that a negro cannot sue in the U.S. Courts; and secondly, that Congress

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cannot prohibit slavery in the Territories. It was made by a divided court—dividing differently on the different points. Judge Douglas does not discuss the merits of the decision; and, in that respect, I shall follow his example, believing I could no more improve on McLean and Curtis, than he could on Taney. He denounces all who question the correctness of that decision, as offering violent resistance to it. But who resists it? Who has, in spite of the decision, declared Dred Scott free, and resisted the authority of his master over him? Judicial decisions have two uses—ﬁrst, to absolutely determine the case decided, and secondly, to indicate to the public how other similar cases will be decided when they arise. For the latter use, they are called ‘‘precedents’’ and ‘‘authorities.’’ We believe, as much as Judge Douglas, (perhaps more) in obedience to, and respect for the judicial department of government. We think its decisions on Constitutional questions, when fully settled, should control, not only the particular cases decided, but the general policy of the country, subject to be disturbed only by amendments of the Constitution as provided in that instrument itself. More than this would be revolution. But we think the Dred Scott decision is erroneous. We know the court that made it, has often over-ruled its own decisions, and we shall do what we can to have it to over-rule this. We offer no resistance to it. Judicial decisions are of greater or less authority as precedents, according to circumstances. That this should be so, accords both with common sense, and the customary understanding of the legal profession. If this important decision had been made by the unanimous concurrence of the judges, and without any apparent partisan bias, and in accordance with legal public expectation, and with the steady practice of the departments throughout our history, and had been in no part, based on assumed historical facts which are not really true; or, if wanting in some of these, it had been before the court more than once, and had there been afﬁrmed and re-afﬁrmed through a course of years, it then might be, perhaps would be, factious, nay, even revolutionary, to not acquiesce in it as a precedent. But when, as it is true we ﬁnd it wanting in all these claims to the public conﬁdence, it is not resistance, it is not factious, it is not even disrespectful, to treat it as not having yet quite established a settled doctrine for the country—But Judge Douglas considers this view awful. Hear him: ‘‘The courts are the tribunals prescribed by the Constitution and created by the authority of the people to determine, expound and enforce the law. Hence, whoever resists the ﬁnal decision of the highest judicial tribunal, aims a deadly blow to our whole Republican system of government—a blow, which if successful would place all our rights and liberties at the mercy of passion, anarchy and violence. I repeat, therefore, that if resistance to the decisions of the Supreme Court of the United States, in a matter like the points decided in the Dred Scott case, clearly within their jurisdiction as deﬁned by the Constitution, shall be forced upon the country as a political issue, it will become a distinct and naked issue between the friends and the enemies of the Constitution—the friends and the enemies of the supremacy of the laws.’’ Why this same Supreme court once decided a national bank to be constitutional; but Gen. Jackson, as President of the United States, disregarded the decision, and vetoed a bill for a re-charter, partly on constitutional ground, declaring that each public functionary must support the Constitution, ‘‘as he understands it.’’ But hear the General’s own words. Here they are, taken from his veto message:

21. Speech by Abraham Lincoln on the Dred Scott Decision and Slavery, June 26, 1857

‘‘It is maintained by the advocates of the bank, that its constitutionality, in all its features, ought to be considered as settled by precedent, and by the decision of the Supreme Court. To this conclusion I cannot assent. Mere precedent is a dangerous source of authority, and should not be regarded as deciding questions of constitutional power, except where the acquiescence of the people and the States can be considered as well settled. So far from this being the case on this subject, an argument against the bank might be based on precedent. One Congress in 1791, decided in favor of a bank; another in 1811, decided against it. One Congress in 1815 decided against a bank; another in 1816 decided in its favor. Prior to the present Congress, therefore the precedents drawn from that source were equal. If we resort to the States, the expressions of legislative, judicial and executive opinions against the bank have been probably to those in its favor as four to one. There is nothing in precedent, therefore, which if its authority were admitted, ought to weigh in favor of the act before me.’’ I drop the quotations merely to remark that all there ever was, in the way of precedent up to the Dred Scott decision, on the points therein decided, had been against that decision. But hear Gen. Jackson further— ‘‘If the opinion of the Supreme court covered the whole ground of this act, it ought not to control the co-ordinate authorities of this Government. The Congress, the executive and the court, must each for itself be guided by its own opinion of the Constitution. Each public ofﬁcer, who takes an oath to support the Constitution, swears that he will support it as he understands it, and not as it is understood by others.’’ Again and again have I heard Judge Douglas denounce that bank decision, and applaud Gen. Jackson for disregarding it. It would be interesting for him to look over his recent speech, and see how exactly his ﬁerce philippics against us for resisting Supreme Court decisions, fall upon his own head. It will call to his mind a long and ﬁerce political war in this country, upon an issue which, in his own language, and, of course, in his own changeless estimation, was ‘‘a distinct and naked issue between the friends and the enemies of the Constitution,’’ and in which war he fought in the ranks of the enemies of the Constitution. I have said, in substance, that the Dred Scott decision was, in part, based on assumed historical facts which were not really true; and I ought not to leave the subject without giving some reasons for saying this; I therefore give an instance or two, which I think fully sustain me. Chief Justice Taney, in delivering the opinion of the majority of the Court, insists at great length that negroes were no part of the people who made, or for whom was made, the Declaration of Independence, or the Constitution of the United States. On the contrary, Judge Curtis, in his dissenting opinion, shows that in ﬁve of the then thirteen states, to wit, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, New York, New Jersey and North Carolina, free negroes were voters, and, in proportion to their numbers, had the same part in making the Constitution that the white people had. He shows this with so much particularity as to leave no doubt of its truth; and, as a sort of conclusion on that point, holds the following language: ‘‘The Constitution was ordained and established by the people of the United States, through the action, in each State, of those persons who were qualiﬁed by its laws to act thereon in behalf of themselves and all other citizens of the State. In some of the States, as we have seen, colored persons were among those qualiﬁed by

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law to act on the subject. These colored persons were not only included in the body of ‘the people of the United States,’ by whom the Constitution was ordained and established; but in at least ﬁve of the States they had the power to act, and, doubtless, did act, by their suffrages, upon the question of its adoption.’’ Again, Chief Justice Taney says: ‘‘It is difﬁcult, at this day to realize the state of public opinion in relation to that unfortunate race, which prevailed in the civilized and enlightened portions of the world at the time of the Declaration of Independence, and when the Constitution of the United States was framed and adopted.’’ And again, after quoting from the Declaration, he says: ‘‘The general words above quoted would seem to include the whole human family, and if they were used in a similar instrument at this day, would be so understood.’’ In these the Chief Justice does not directly assert, but plainly assumes, as a fact, that the public estimate of the black man is more favorable now than it was in the days of the Revolution. This assumption is a mistake. In some triﬂing particulars, the condition of that race has been ameliorated; but, as a whole, in this country, the change between then and now is decidedly the other way; and their ultimate destiny has never appeared so hopeless as in the last three or four years. In two of the ﬁve States—New Jersey and North Carolina—that then gave the free negro the right of voting, the right has since been taken away; and in a third—New York—it has been greatly abridged; while it has not been extended, so far as I know, to a single additional State, though the number of the States has more than doubled. In those days, as I understand, masters could, at their own pleasure, emancipate their slaves; but since then, such legal restraints have been made upon emancipation, as to amount almost to prohibition. In those days, Legislatures held the unquestioned power to abolish slavery in their respective States; but now it is becoming quite fashionable for State Constitutions to withhold that power from the Legislatures. In those days, by common consent, the spread of the black man’s bondage to new countries was prohibited; but now, Congress decides that it will not continue the prohibition, and the Supreme Court decides that it could not if it would. In those days, our Declaration of Independence was held sacred by all, and thought to include all; but now, to aid in making the bondage of the negro universal and eternal, it is assailed, and sneered at, and construed, and hawked at, and torn, till, if its framers could rise from their graves, they could not at all recognize it. All the powers of earth seem rapidly combining against him. Mammon is after him; ambition follows, and philosophy follows, and the Theology of the day is fast joining the cry. They have him in his prison house; they have searched his person, and left no prying instrument with him. One after another they have closed the heavy iron doors upon him, and now they have him, as it were, bolted in with a lock of a hundred keys, which can never be unlocked without the concurrence of every key; the keys in the hands of a hundred different men, and they scattered to a hundred different and distant places; and they stand musing as to what invention, in all the dominions of mind and matter, can be produced to make the impossibility of his escape more complete than it is. It is grossly incorrect to say or assume, that the public estimate of the negro is more favorable now than it was at the origin of the government. Three years and a half ago, Judge Douglas brought forward his famous Nebraska bill. The country was at once in a blaze. He scorned all opposition, and carried it through Congress. Since then he has seen himself superseded in a Presidential nomination, by one indorsing the general doctrine of his measure, but at the same time

21. Speech by Abraham Lincoln on the Dred Scott Decision and Slavery, June 26, 1857

standing clear of the odium of its untimely agitation, and its gross breach of national faith; and he has seen that successful rival Constitutionally elected, not by the strength of friends, but by the division of adversaries, being in a popular minority of nearly four hundred thousand votes. He has seen his chief aids in his own State, Shields and Richardson, politically speaking, successively tried, convicted, and executed, for an offense not their own, but his. And now he sees his own case, standing next on the docket for trial. There is a natural disgust in the minds of nearly all white people, to the idea of an indiscriminate amalgamation of the white and black races; and Judge Douglas evidently is basing his chief hope, upon the chances of being able to appropriate the beneﬁt of this disgust to himself. If he can, by much drumming and repeating, fasten the odium of that idea upon his adversaries, he thinks he can struggle through the storm. He therefore clings to this hope, as a drowning man to the last plank. He makes an occasion for lugging it in from the opposition to the Dred Scott decision. He ﬁnds the Republicans insisting that the Declaration of Independence includes ALL men, black as well as white; and forth-with he boldly denies that it includes negroes at all, and proceeds to argue gravely that all who contend it does, do so only because they want to vote, and eat, and sleep, and marry with negroes! He will have it that they cannot be consistent else. Now I protest against that counterfeit logic which concludes that, because I do not want a black woman for a slave I must necessarily want her for a wife. I need not have her for either, I can just leave her alone. In some respects she certainly is not my equal; but in her natural right to eat the bread she earns with her own hands without asking leave of any one else, she is my equal, and the equal of all others. Chief Justice Taney, in his opinion in the Dred Scott case, admits that the language of the Declaration is broad enough to include the whole human family, but he and Judge Douglas argue that the authors of that instrument did not intend to include negroes, by the fact that they did not at once, actually place them on an equality with the whites. Now this grave argument comes to just nothing at all, by the other fact, that they did not at once, or ever afterwards, actually place all white people on an equality with one or another. And this is the staple argument of both the Chief Justice and the Senator, for doing this obvious violence to the plain unmistakable language of the Declaration. I think the authors of that notable instrument intended to include all men, but they did not intend to declare all men equal in all respects. They did not mean to say all were equal in color, size, intellect, moral developments, or social capacity. They deﬁned with tolerable distinctness, in what respects they did consider all men created equal—equal in ‘‘certain inalienable rights, among which are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.’’ This they said, and this meant. They did not mean to assert the obvious untruth, that all were then actually enjoying that equality, nor yet, that they were about to confer it immediately upon them. In fact they had no power to confer such a boon. They meant simply to declare the right, so that the enforcement of it might follow as fast as circumstances should permit. They meant to set up a standard maxim for free society, which should be familiar to all, and revered by all; constantly looked to, constantly labored for, and even though never perfectly attained, constantly approximated, and thereby constantly spreading and deepening its inﬂuence, and augmenting the happiness and value of life to all people of all colors everywhere. The assertion that ‘‘all men are created equal’’ was of no practical use in effecting

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our separation from Great Britain; and it was placed in the Declaration, nor for that, but for future use. Its authors meant it to be, thank God, it is now proving itself, a stumbling block to those who in after times might seek to turn a free people back into the hateful paths of despotism. They knew the proneness of prosperity to breed tyrants, and they meant when such should re-appear in this fair land and commence their vocation they should ﬁnd left for them at least one hard nut to crack. I have now brieﬂy expressed my view of the meaning and objects of that part of the Declaration of Independence which declares that ‘‘all men are created equal.’’ Now let us hear Judge Douglas’ view of the same subject, as I ﬁnd it in the printed report of his late speech. Here it is: ‘‘No man can vindicate the character, motives and conduct of the signers of the Declaration of Independence except upon the hypothesis that they referred to the white race alone, and not to the African, when they declared all men to have been created equal—that they were speaking of British subjects on this continent being equal to British subjects born and residing in Great Britain—that they were entitled to the same inalienable rights, and among them were enumerated life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The Declaration was adopted for the purpose of justifying the colonists in the eyes of the civilized world in withdrawing their allegiance from the British crown, and dissolving their connection with the mother country.’’ My good friends, read that carefully over some leisure hour, and ponder well upon it—see what a mere wreck—mangled ruin—it makes of our once glorious Declaration. ‘‘They were speaking of British subjects on this continent being equal to British subjects born and residing in Great Britain!’’ Why, according to this, not only negroes but white people outside of Great Britain and America are not spoken of in that instrument. The English, Irish and Scotch, along with white Americans, were included to be sure, but the French, Germans and other white people of the world are all gone to pot along with the Judge’s inferior races. I had thought the Declaration promised something better than the condition of British subjects; but no, it only meant that we should be equal to them in their own oppressed and unequal condition. According to that, it gave no promise that having kicked off the King and Lords of Great Britain, we should not at once be saddled with a King and Lords of our own. I had thought the Declaration contemplated the progressive improvement in the condition of all men everywhere; but no, it merely ‘‘was adopted for the purpose of justifying the colonists in the eyes of the civilized world in withdrawing their allegiance from the British crown, and dissolving their connection with the mother country.’’ Why, that object having been effected some eighty years ago, the Declaration is of no practical use now—mere rubbish—old wadding left to rot on the battle-ﬁeld after the victory is won. I understand you are preparing to celebrate the ‘‘Fourth,’’ tomorrow week. What for? The doings of that day had no reference to the present; and quite half of you are not even descendants of those who were referred to at that day. But I suppose you will celebrate; and will even go so far as to read the Declaration. Suppose after you read it once in the old fashioned way, you read it once more with Judge Douglas’ version. It will then run thus: ‘‘We hold these truths to be self-evident that all British subjects who were on this continent eighty-one years ago, were created equal to all British subjects born and then residing in Great Britain.’’

21. Speech by Abraham Lincoln on the Dred Scott Decision and Slavery, June 26, 1857

And now I appeal to all—to Democrats as well as others,—are you really willing that the Declaration shall be thus frittered away?—thus left no more at most, than an interesting memorial of the dead past? thus shorn of its vitality, and practical value; and left without the germ or even the suggestion of the individual rights of man in it? But Judge Douglas is especially horriﬁed at the thought of the mixing blood by the white and black races: agreed for once—a thousand times agreed. There are white men enough to marry all the white women, and black men enough to marry all the black women; and so let them be married. On this point we fully agree with the Judge; and when he shall show that his policy is better adapted to prevent amalgamation than ours we shall drop ours, and adopt his. Let us see. In 1850 there were in the United States, 405,751, mulattoes. Very few of these are the offspring of whites and free blacks; nearly all have sprung from black slaves and white masters. A separation of the races is the only perfect preventive of amalgamation but as an immediate separation is impossible the next best thing is to keep them apart where they are not already together. If white and black people never get together in Kansas, they will never mix blood in Kansas. That is at least one self-evident truth. A few free colored persons may get into the free States, in any event; but their number is too insigniﬁcant to amount to much in the way of mixing blood. In 1850 there were in the free states, 56,649 mulattoes; but for the most part they were not born there—they came from the slave States, ready made up. In the same year the slave States had 348,874 mulattoes all of home production. The proportion of free mulattoes to free blacks—the only colored classes in the free states—is much greater in the slave than in the free states. It is worthy of note too, that among the free states those which make the colored man the nearest to equal the white, have, proportionably the fewest mulattoes the least of amalgamation. In New Hampshire, the State which goes farthest towards equality between the races, there are just 184 Mulattoes while there are in Virginia—how many do you think? 79,775, being 23,126 more than in all the free States together. These statistics show that slavery is the greatest source of amalgamation; and next to it, not the elevation, but the degeneration of the free blacks. Yet Judge Douglas dreads the slightest restraints on the spread of slavery, and the slightest human recognition of the negro, as tending horribly to amalgamation. This very Dred Scott case affords a strong test as to which party most favors amalgamation, the Republicans or the dear Union-saving Democracy. Dred Scott, his wife and two daughters were all involved in the suit. We desired the court to have held that they were citizens so far at least as to entitle them to a hearing as to whether they were free or not; and then, also, that they were in fact and in law really free. Could we have had our way, the chances of these black girls, ever mixing their blood with that of white people, would have been diminished at least to the extent that it could not have been without their consent. But Judge Douglas is delighted to have them decided to be slaves, and not human enough to have a hearing, even if they were free, and thus left subject to the forced concubinage of their masters, and liable to become the mothers of mulattoes in spite of themselves—the very state of case that produces nine tenths of all the mulattoes—all the mixing of blood in the nation. Of course, I state this case as an illustration only, not meaning to say or intimate that the master of Dred Scott and his family, or any more than a percentage of

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masters generally, are inclined to exercise this particular power which they hold over their female slaves. I have said that the separation of the races is the only perfect preventive of amalgamation. I have no right to say all the members of the Republican party are in favor of this, nor to say that as a party they are in favor of it. There is nothing in their platform directly on the subject. But I can say a very large proportion of its members are for it, and that the chief plank in their platform—opposition to the spread of slavery—is most favorable to that separation. Such separation, if ever effected at all, must be effected by colonization; and no political party, as such, is now doing anything directly for colonization. Party operations at present only favor or retard colonization incidentally. The enterprise is a difﬁcult one; but ‘‘when there is a will there is a way;’’ and what colonization needs most is a hearty will. Will springs from the two elements of moral sense and selfinterest. Let us be brought to believe it is morally right, and, at the same time, favorable to, or, at least, not against, our interest, to transfer the African to his native clime, and we shall ﬁnd a way to do it, however great the task may be. The children of Israel, to such numbers as to include four hundred thousand ﬁghting men, went out of Egyptian bondage in a body. How differently the respective courses of the Democratic and Republican parties incidentally bear on the question of forming a will—a public sentiment—for colonization, is easy to see. The Republicans inculcate, with whatever of ability they can, that the negro is a man; that his bondage is cruelly wrong, and that the ﬁeld of his oppression ought not to be enlarged. The Democrats deny his manhood; deny, or dwarf to insigniﬁcance, the wrong of his bondage; so far as possible, crush all sympathy for him, and cultivate and excite hatred and disgust against him; compliment themselves as Union-savers for doing so; and call the indeﬁnite outspreading of his bondage ‘‘a sacred right of self-government.’’ The plainest print cannot be read through a gold eagle; and it will be ever hard to ﬁnd many men who will send a slave to Liberia, and pay his passage while they can send him to a new country, Kansas for instance, and sell him for ﬁfteen hundred dollars, and the rise. Source: Speech at Springﬁeld, Illinois. June 26, 1857. TeachingAmericanHistory.org C 2006 Ashbrook Center for Public Affairs.

22. Our Nig; or, Sketches from the Life of a Free Black, in a Two-Story White House, North, 1859 HARRIET E. WILSON Harriet Wilson writes a narrative of the life experiences of a free black woman pre– Emancipation Proclamation. The vocabulary and style of this novel is Romantic, indicating the literary background of the writer. Our Nig made headlines in the 1980s when the text was rediscovered by Henry Louis Gates, a professor at Yale University at the time, who declared that this novel appeared to be the ﬁrst literary work written and published by an African American. This proclamation, made in the pages of scholarly journals and the New York Times, made Harriet Wilson and this work a landmark in the annals of American literature.

22. Our Nig; or, Sketches from the Life of a Free Black, in a Two-Story White House, North, 1859 85

CHAPTER I. MAG SMITH, MY MOTHER. Oh, Grief beyond all other griefs, when fate First leaves the young heart lone and desolate In the wide world, without that only tie For which it loved to live or feared to die; Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne’er hath spoken Since the sad day its master-chord was broken! MOORE. LONELY MAG SMITH! See her as she walks with downcast eyes and heavy heart. It was not always thus. She had a loving, trusting heart. Early deprived of parental guardianship, far removed from relatives, she was left to guide her tiny boat over life’s surges alone and inexperienced. As she merged into womanhood, unprotected, uncherished, uncared for, there fell on her ear the music of love, awakening an intensity of emotion long dormant. It whispered of an elevation before unaspired to; of ease and plenty her simple heart had never dreamed of as hers. She knew the voice of her charmer, so ravishing, sounded far above her. It seemed like an angel’s, alluring her upward and onward. She thought she could ascend to him and become an equal. She surrendered to him a priceless gem, which he proudly garnered as a trophy, with those of other victims, and left her to her fate. The world seemed full of hateful deceivers and crushing arrogance. Conscious that the great bond of union to her former companions was severed, that the disdain of others would be insupportable, she determined to leave the few friends she possessed, and seek an asylum among strangers. Her offspring came unwelcomed, and before its nativity numbered weeks, it passed from earth, ascending to a purer and better life. ‘‘God be thanked,’’ ejaculated Mag, as she saw its breathing cease; ‘‘no one can taunt her with my ruin.’’ Blessed release! may we all respond. How many pure, innocent children not only inherit a wicked heart of their own, claiming life-long scrutiny and restraint, but are heirs also of parental disgrace and calumny, from which only long years of patient endurance in paths of rectitude can disencumber them. Mag’s new home was soon contaminated by the publicity of her fall; she had a feeling of degradation oppressing her; but she resolved to be circumspect, and try to regain in a measure what she had lost. Then some foul tongue would jest of her shame, and averted looks and cold greetings disheartened her. She saw she could not bury in forgetfulness her misdeed, so she resolved to leave her home and seek another in the place she at ﬁrst ﬂed from. Alas, how fearful are we to be ﬁrst in extending a helping hand to those who stagger in the mires of infamy; to speak the ﬁrst words of hope and warning to those emerging into the sunlight of morality! Who can tell what numbers, advancing just far enough to hear a cold welcome and join in the reserved converse of professed reformers, disappointed, disheartened, have chosen to dwell in unclean places, rather than encounter these ‘‘holier-than-thou’’ of the great brotherhood of man! Such was Mag’s experience; and disdaining to ask favor or friendship from a sneering world, she resolved to shut herself up in a hovel she had often passed in

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better days, and which she knew to be untenanted. She vowed to ask no favors of familiar faces; to die neglected and forgotten before she would be dependent on any. Removed from the village, she was seldom seen except as upon your introduction, gentle reader, with downcast visage, returning her work to her employer, and thus providing herself with the means of subsistence. In two years many hands craved the same avocation; foreigners who cheapened toil and clamored for a livelihood, competed with her, and she could not thus sustain herself. She was now above no drudgery. Occasionally old acquaintances called to be favored with help of some kind, which she was glad to bestow for the sake of the money it would bring her; but the association with them was such a painful reminder of by-gones, she returned to her hut morose and revengeful, refusing all offers of a better home than she possessed. Thus she lived for years, hugging her wrongs, but making no effort to escape. She had never known plenty, scarcely competency; but the present was beyond comparison with those innocent years when the coronet of virtue was hers. Every year her melancholy increased, her means diminished. At last no one seemed to notice her, save a kind-hearted African, who often called to inquire after her health and to see if she needed any fuel, he having the responsibility of furnishing that article, and she in return mending or making garments. ‘‘How much you earn dis week, Mag?’’ asked he one Saturday evening. ‘‘Little enough, Jim. Two or three days without any dinner. I washed for the Reeds, and did a small job for Mrs. Bellmont; that’s all. I shall starve soon, unless I can get more to do. Folks seem as afraid to come here as if they expected to get some awful disease. I don’t believe there is a person in the world but would be glad to have me dead and out of the way.’’ ‘‘No, no, Mag! don’t talk so. You shan’t starve so long as I have barrels to hoop. Peter Greene boards me cheap. I’ll help you, if nobody else will.’’ A tear stood in Mag’s faded eye. ‘‘I’m glad,’’ she said, with a softer tone than before, ‘‘if there is one who isn’t glad to see me suffer. I b’lieve all Singleton wants to see me punished, and feel as if they could tell when I’ve been punished long enough. It’s a long day ahead they’ll set it, I reckon.’’ After the usual supply of fuel was prepared, Jim returned home. Full of pity for Mag, he set about devising measures for her relief. ‘‘By golly!’’ said he to himself one day—for he had become so absorbed in Mag’s interest that he had fallen into a habit of musing aloud–‘‘By golly! I wish she’d marry me.’’ ‘‘Who?’’ shouted Pete Greene, suddenly starting from an unobserved corner of the rude shop. ‘‘Where you come from, you sly nigger!’’ exclaimed Jim. ‘‘Come, tell me, who is’t?‘‘ said Pete; ‘‘Mag Smith, you want to marry?’’ ‘‘Git out, Pete! and when you come in dis shop again, let a nigger know it. Don’t steal in like a thief.’’ Pity and love know little severance. One attends the other. Jim acknowledged the presence of the former, and his efforts in Mag’s behalf told also of a ﬁner principle. This sudden expedient which he had unintentionally disclosed, roused his thinking and inventive powers to study upon the best method of introducing the subject to Mag. He belted his barrels, with many a scheme revolving in his mind, none of which quite satisﬁed him, or seemed, on the whole, expedient. He thought of the pleasing

23. Letters on American Slavery

contrast between her fair face and his own dark skin; the smooth, straight hair, which he had once, in expression of pity, kindly stroked on her now wrinkled but once fair brow. There was a tempest gathering in his heart, and at last, to ease his pent-up passion, he exclaimed aloud, ‘‘By golly!’’ Recollecting his former exposure, he glanced around to see if Pete was in hearing again. Satisﬁed on this point, he continued: ‘‘She’d be as much of a prize to me as she’d fall short of coming up to the mark with white folks. I don’t care for past things. I’ve done things ‘fore now I‘s ‘shamed of. She’s good enough for me, any how.’’ One more glance about the premises to be sure Pete was away. The next Saturday night brought Jim to the hovel again. The cold was fast coming to tarry its apportioned time. Mag was nearly despairing of meeting its rigor. ‘‘How‘s the wood, Mag?’’ asked Jim. ‘‘All gone; and no more to cut, any how,’’ was the reply. ‘‘Too bad!’’ Jim said. His truthful reply would have been, I’m glad. ‘‘Anything to eat in the house?’’ continued he. ‘‘No,’’ replied Mag. ‘‘Too bad!’’ again, orally, with the same inward gratulation as before. ‘‘Well, Mag,’’ said Jim, after a short pause, ‘‘you’s down low enough. I don’t see but I’ve got to take care of ye. ‘Sposin’ we marry!’’ Mag raised her eyes, full of amazement, and uttered a sonorous ‘‘What?’’ Jim felt abashed for a moment. He knew well what were her objections. ‘‘You’s had trial of white folks any how. They run off and left ye, and now none of ’em come near ye to see if you’s dead or alive. I’s black outside, I know, but I’s got a white heart inside. Which you rather have, a black heart in a white skin, or a white heart in a black one?’’ ‘‘Oh, dear!’’ sighed Mag; ‘‘Nobody on earth cares for me—’’ ‘‘I do,’’ interrupted Jim. ‘‘I can do but two things,’’ said she, ‘‘beg my living, or get it from you.’’ ‘‘Take me, Mag. I can give you a better home than this, and not let you suffer so.’’ He prevailed; they married. You can philosophize, gentle reader, upon the impropriety of such unions, and preach dozens of sermons on the evils of amalgamation. Want is a more powerful philosopher and preacher. Poor Mag. She has sundered another bond which held her to her fellows. She has descended another step down the ladder of infamy. Source: Our Nig; pseud. Harriet E. Wilson, Editor Henry Louis Gates, Jr. Boston: G. C. Rand & Avery, 1859. C 2000, Rector and Visitors of the University of Virginia. Courtesy of The University of Virginia Library.

23. Letters on American slavery from Victor Hugo, de Tocqueville, Emile de Girardin, Carnot, Passy, Mazzini, Humboldt, O. Lafayette—&c, 1860 These are letters written by Victor Hugo, Alexis de Tocqueville, Emile de Girardin, Carnot, Passy, Mazzini, Humboldt, and O. Lafayette to the editor of the London News in regard to the American Tract Society. These letters are in response to a

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decision not to publish a tract that touched upon slavery. They were later published by the American Anti-Slavery Society. VICTOR HUGO ON JOHN BROWN To The Editor Of The London News: Sir: When our thoughts dwell upon the United States of America, a majestic form rises before the eye of imagination. It is a Washington! Look, then, to what is taking place in that country of Washington at this present moment. In the Southern States of the Union there are slaves; and this circumstance is regarded with indignation, as the most monstrous of inconsistencies, by the pure and logical conscience of the Northern States. A white man, a free man, John Brown, sought to deliver these negro slaves from bondage. Assuredly, if insurrection is ever a sacred duty, it must be when it is directed against Slavery. John Brown endeavored to commence the work of emancipation by the liberation of slaves in Virginia. Pious, austere, animated with the old Puritan spirit, inspired by the spirit of the Gospel, he sounded to these men, these oppressed brothers, the rallying cry of Freedom. The slaves, enervated by servitude, made no response to the appeal. Slavery afﬂicts the soul with weakness. Brown, though deserted, still fought at the head of a handful of heroic men; he was riddled with balls; his two young sons, sacred martyrs, fell dead at his side, and he himself was taken. This is what they call the affair at Harper’s Ferry. John Brown has been tried, with four of his comrades, Stephens, Cowpoke, Green and Copeland. What has been the character of his trial? Let us sum it up in a few words:— John Brown, upon a wretched pallet, with six hal gaping wounds, a gun-shot wound in his arm, another in its loins, and two in his head, scarcely conscious of surrounding sounds, bathing his mattress in blood, and with the ghastly presence of his two dead sons ever beside him; his four fellow-sufferers wounded, dragging themselves along by his side; Stephens bleeding from four sabre wounds; justice in a hurry, and over-leaping all obstacles; an attorney, Hunter, who wishes to proceed hastily, and a judge, Parker, who suffers, him to have his way; the hearing cut short, almost every application for delay refused, forged and mutilated documents produced, the witnesses for the defense kidnapped, every obstacle thrown in the way of the prisoner‘s counsel, two cannon loaded with canister stationed in the Court, orders given to the jailers to shoot the prisoners if they sought to escape, forty minutes of deliberation, and three men sentenced to die! I declare on my honor that all this took place, not in Turkey, but in America! Such things cannot be done with impunity in the face of the civilized world. The universal conscience of humanity is an ever-watchful eye. Let the judges of Charlestown, and Hunter and Parker, and the slaveholding jurors, and the whole population of Virginia, ponder it well: they are watched! They are not alone in the world. At this moment, America attracts the eyes of the whole of Europe. John Brown, condemned to die, was to have been hanged on the 2d of December—this very day. But news has just reached us. A respite has been granted to him. It is not until the 16th that he is to die. The interval is a brief one. Before it has ended, will a cry of mercy have had time to make itself effectually heard?

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No matter! It is our duty to speak out. Perhaps a second respite may be granted. America is a noble nation. The impulse of humanity springs quickly into life among a free people. We may yet hope that Brown will be saved. If it were otherwise, if Brown should die on the scaffold on the 16th of December, what a terrible calamity! The executioner of Brown, let us avow it openly (for the day of the kings is past, and the day of the peoples dawns, and to the people we are bound frankly to speak the truth)—the executioner of Brown would be neither the attorney Hunter, nor the judge Parker, nor the Governor Wise, nor the State of Virginia; it would be, though we can scarce think or speak of it without a shudder, the whole American Republic. The more one loves, the more one admires, the more one venerates that Republic, the more heart-sick one feels at the contemplation of such a catastrophe. A single State ought not to have the power to dishonor all the rest, and in this case there is an obvious justiﬁcation for a federal intervention. Otherwise, by hesitating to interfere when it might prevent a crime, the Union becomes a participator in its guilt. No matter how intense may be the indignation of the generous Northern States, the Southern States force them to share the opprobrium of this murder. All of us, no matter who we may be, who are bound together as compatriots by the common tie of a democratic creed, feel ourselves in some measure compromised. If the scaffold should be erected on the 16th of December, the incorruptible voice of history would thenceforward testify that the august Confederation of the New World, had added to all its rites of holy brotherhood a brotherhood of blood, and the fasces of that splendid Republic would be bound together with the running noose that hung from the gibbet of Brown! This is a bond that kills. When we reﬂect on what Brown, the liberator, the champion of Christ, has striven to effect, and when we remember that he is about to die, slaughtered by the American Republic, the crime assumes an importance co-extensive with that of the nation which commits it—and when we say to ourselves that this nation is one of the glories of the human race; that like France, like England, like Germany, she is one of the great agents of civilization; that she sometimes even leaves Europe in the rear by the sublime audacity of some of her progressive movements; that she is the Queen of an entire world, and that her brow is irradiated with a glorious halo of freedom, we declare our conviction that John Brown will not die; for we recoil horror-struck from the idea of so great a crime committed by so great a people. Viewed in a political light, the murder of Brown would be an irreparable fault. It would penetrate the Union with a gaping ﬁssure which would lead in the end of its entire disruption. It is possible that the execution of Brown might establish slavery on a ﬁrm basis in Virginia, but it is certain that it would shake to its centre the entire fabric of American democracy. You preserve your infamy, but you sacriﬁce your glory. Viewed in a moral light, it seems to me that a portion of the enlightenment of humanity would be eclipsed, that even the ideas of justice and injustice would be obscured on the day which should witness the assassination of Emancipation by Liberty. As for myself, though I am but a mere atom, yet being, as I am, in common with all other men, inspired with the conscience of humanity, I fall on my knees, weeping before the great starry banner of the New World; and with clasped hands, and with profound and ﬁlial respect, I implore the illustrious American Republic, sister

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of the French Republic, to see to the safety of the universal moral law, to save John Brown, to demolish the threatening scaffold of the 16th of December, and not to suffer that beneath its eyes, and I add, with a shudder, almost by its fault a crime should be perpetrated surpassing the ﬁrst fratricide in iniquity. For—yes, let America know it, and ponder on it well—there is something more terrible than Cain slaying Abel: It is Washington slaying Spartacus! Victor Hugo. Hauteville House, Dec. 2d, 1859. VICTOR HUGO ON AMERICAN SLAVERY To Mrs. Maria Weston Chapman. Madame: I have scarcely anything to add to your letter. I would cheerfully sign every line of it. Pursue your holy work. You have with you all great souls and all good hearts. You are pleased to believe, and to assure me, that my voice, in this august cause of Liberty, will be listened to by the great American people, whom I love so profoundly, and whose destinies, I am fain to think, are closely linked with the mission of France. You desire me to lift up my voice. I will do it at once, and I will do it on all occasions. I agree with you in thinking that, within a deﬁnite time—that, within a time not distant—the United States will repudiate Slavery with horror! Slavery in such a country! Can there be an incongruity more monstrous? Barbarism installed in the very heart of a country, which is itself the afﬁrmation of civilization; liberty wearing a chain; blasphemy echoing from the altar; the collar of a negro chained to the pedestal of Washington! It is a thing unheard of. I say more, it is impossible. Such a spectacle would destroy itself. The light of the Nineteenth Century alone is enough to destroy it. What! Slavery sanctioned by law among that illustrious people, who for seventy years have measured the progress of civilization by their march, demonstrated democracy by their power, and liberty by their prosperity! Slavery in the United States! It is the duty of this republic to set such an example no longer. It is a shame, and she was never born to bow her head. It is not when Slavery is taking leave of old nations, that it should be received by the new. What! When Slavery is departing from Turkey, shall it rest in America? What! Drive it from the hearth of Omar, and adopt it at the hearth of Franklin? No! No! No! There is an inﬂexible logic which develops more or less slowly, which fashions, which redresses according to a mysterious plan, perceptible only to great spirits, the facts, the men, the laws, the morals, the people; or better, under all human things, there are things divine. Let all those great souls who love the United States, as a country, be re-assured. The United States must renounce Slavery, or they must renounce Liberty. They cannot renounce Liberty. They must renounce Slavery, or renounce the Gospel. They will never renounce the Gospel. Accept, Madame, with my devotion to the cause you advocate, the homage of my respect. Victor Hugo. 6 Juillet, 1851, Paris.

23. Letters on American Slavery

LETTER FROM ALEXIS DE TOCQUEVILLE I do not think it is for me, a foreigner, to indicate to the United States the time, the measures, or the men by whom Slavery shall be abolished. Still, as the persevering enemy of despotism everywhere, and under all its forms, I am pained and astonished by the fact that the freest people in the world is, at the present time, almost the only one among civilized and Christian nations which yet maintains personal servitude; and this, while serfdom itself is about disappearing, where it has not already disappeared, from the most degraded nations of Europe. An old and sincere friend of America, I am uneasy at seeing Slavery retard her progress, tarnish her glory, furnish arms to her detractors, compromise the future career of the Union which is the guaranty of her safety and greatness, and point our beforehand to her, to all her enemies, the spot where they are to strike. As a man too, I am moved at the spectacle of man’s degradation by man, and I hope to see the day when the law will grant equal civil liberty to all the inhabitants of the same empire, as God accords the freedom of the will, without distinction, to the dwellers upon earth. France, 1855.

LETTER FROM EMILE DE GIRARDIN I seize the occasion now offered me to accuse myself of having too long believed, on the faith of American citizens and French travellers, that the slavery of the blacks neither could nor ought, for their own sakes, to be abolished, without a previous initiation to liberty, by labor, instruction, economy, and redemption—an individual purchase of each one by himself. But this belief I end by classing among those inveterate errors, which are like the rings of a chain, that even the freest of men drag after them, and even the strongest ﬁnd it difﬁcult to break. What I once believed, I believe no longer. Of all the existing proofs that Liberty is to be conquered or gained, not given, or dealt out by halves, the strongest proof is that, in the United States, the freest of all countries, the maintenance of Slavery is not made a question of time, but of race. Now if the reasons there alleged for the perpetuating and the legalizing of Slavery are true, they will be no less true a thousand years hence than to-day; if they are false, they have no right to impose themselves for a day, for an hour, for a moment. Error has no right against truth; iniquity has no right against equity, for the same reason that the dying have no right against death. I hold, then, as false—incontestably and absolutely false,—all that blind self-interest and limping common-place are continually repeating, in order to perpetuate and legalize Slavery in the United States; just as I hold as false all that was said and printed before 1789, to perpetuate and legitimate serfdom; and all that is still said in Russia, in favor of the same outrage of men against the nature of man. The slavery of the blacks is the opprobrium of the whites. Thus every wrong brings its own chastisement. The punishment of the American people is to be the last of the nations, while it is also the ﬁrst. It is the ﬁrst, by that Liberty of which it has rolled back the limits, and it is the last by that Slavery whose inconsistency it tolerates; for there are no slaves without tyrants. What matter whether the tyrant be regal or legal? Paris, (Ofﬁce of La Presse,) 1855.

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LETTER FROM M. CARNOT The question of Slavery is intimately connected with questions of general policy. The Pagan republics had Slavery for their basis. They were so organized that they could not subsist without it; and so when Slavery was shaken down, they perished. Liberty for the few, on condition of keeping the many in servitude—such was the principle of the ancient societies. Christianity bids another morality triumph,—that of human brotherhood. Modern societies recognize the principle that each citizen increases the domain of his own liberty by sharing it with his fellows. Republican France put this principle in practice; at her two great epochs of emancipation, she hastened to send Liberty to her colonial possessions. North America presents a sad anomaly—a contradiction to the general rule with which we have prefaced these reﬂections, and thence the enemies of Liberty try to justify their departure from it. They pretend to believe that the Republic of the United States rests on a basis analogous to that of the Pagan republics; and that the application of the new morality will be dangerous to it. But it is not so. Liberty in the United States is founded on reason, on custom, on patriotism, and on experience already old. She can but gain by diffusion even to prodigality. In the United States, Slavery is more than elsewhere a monstrosity, protected only by private interests. It is a source of corruption and barbarism which delays America in the path of European civilization. It is a fatal example that she presents to Europe, to turn her from the pursuit of American independence. Paris, 1855.

LETTER FROM M. PASSY Humanity is governed by laws which continually impel it to extend, without ceasing, the sphere of its knowledge. There is no discovery which does not conduct it to new discoveries; each generation adds its own to the mass which it has received from the past, and thus from age to age are the strength and riches of civilization augmented. Now it is one of the numerous proofs of the benevolent purposes of the Creator, that every step of mental progress strengthens the ideas of duty and justice, of which humanity makes application in its acts. Human society, as it gains light, does not merely learn thereby the better to proﬁt by its labors. It gains, at the same time, clearer and surer notions of moral order. It discerns evil where it did not at ﬁrst suspect its existence; and no sooner does it perceive the evil than it seeks the means to suppress it. This is what, in our day, has awakened so much opposition to Slavery. Thanks to the ﬂood of light already received, society begins to comprehend, not only its iniquity in principle, but all the degradation and suffering it scatters in the lands where it exists. A cry of reprobation arises, and associations are formed to hasten its abolition. We may, without fear, assert that it will be with Slavery as with all the other remnants of ignorance and original barbarism. The day will come when it must disappear, with the rest of the institutions which have been found inconsistant with the moral feelings to which the development of human reason gives the mastery.

23. Letters on American Slavery

Let those reﬂect who, at this day, constitute themselves the defenders of Slavery. They have against them the most irresistible of all powers—that of moral truth becoming more and more distinct—that of human conceptions necessarily rising with the growth in knowledge of the divine will. Their defeat is, sooner or later, inevitable. How much wiser would they be, did they resign themselves to the preparation for a reform, the necessity for which presents itself with such inﬂexible urgency. It is, doubtless, a work of difﬁculty. Freemen require other conditions than those to which they were subjected by the lash; but the requisite changes may be effected. Wise precautions and temporary arrangements, united with the injunctions of authority, will not fail of success. Proprietors who dread emancipation! show to your people a little of that benevolence which so promptly subdues those who are unaccustomed to it, and you will ﬁnd them docile and industrious as freemen. It is Slavery which corrupts and deteriorates the faculties which God has given to all for the amelioration of their destinies and the enjoyment of existence. Liberty, on the contrary, animates and develops them. Human activity rises to extend its conquests, more ingenious and energetic at her reviving breath. May such assertions as these, conformable as they are to the experience of all ages, no longer meet in America the contradictions which are long extinct in Europe. May those States of the Union where Slavery still counts its partizans, hasten to prepare for its abolition. Storms are gathering over the seat of injustice. Prosperity, gained at the expense of humanity, ﬂows from a source which time will necessarily dry up. There can exist no durable prosperity on earth, but in consistency with the laws of God; and his laws command men to love and serve each other as brethren. Nice, January 28th, 1855. LETTER FROM MAZZINI London, May 1, 1854. Dear Sir: I have delayed to the present moment my answering your kind invitation, in the hope that I should, perhaps, be enabled to give a better answer than a written one; but I ﬁnd that neither health nor business will allow me to attend. I must write, and express to you, and through you to your friends, how much I feel grateful for your having asked me to attend the ﬁrst meeting of the ‘‘North of England Anti-Slavery Association;’’ how earnestly I sympathize with the noble aim you are going to pursue; how deeply I shall commune with your efforts, and help, if I can, their success. No man ought ever to inscribe on his ﬂag the sacred word ‘‘Liberty,’’ who is not prepared to shake hands cordially with those, whoever they are, who will attach their names to the constitution of your association. Liberty may be the godlike gift of all races, of all nations, of every being who bears on his brow the stamp of Man, or sink to the level of a narrow and mean self-interest, unworthy of the tears of good and the blood of the brave. I am yours, because I believe in the unity of God; yours, because I believe in the unity of mankind; yours, because I believe in the educatibility of the whole human race, and in a heavenly law of inﬁnite progression for all; yours, because the fulﬁlment of the law implies the consciousness and the responsibility of the agent, and neither consciousness nor responsibility can exist in slavery; yours, because I have devoted my life to the

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emancipation of my own country. And I would feel unequal to this task, a mean rebel, not an apostle of truth and justice, had I not felt from my earliest years that the right and duty of revolting against lies and tyranny were grounded on a far higher sphere than that of the welfare of one single nation; that they must start from belief in a principle, which will have sooner or later to be universally applied: ‘‘One God, one humanity, one law, one love from all for all.’’ Blessed be your efforts, if they start from this high ground of a common faith; if you do not forget, whilst at work for the emancipation of the black race, the millions of white slaves, suffering, struggling, expiring in Italy, in Poland, in Hungary, throughout all Europe; if you always remember that free men only can achieve the work of freedom, and that Europe’s appeal for the abolition of slavery in other lands will not weigh all-powerful before God and men, whilst Europe herself shall be desecrated by arbitrary, tyrannical power, by czars, emperors, and popes. Every faithfully yours, Joseph Mazzini ANOTHER LETTER FROM MAZZINI Rev. Dr. Beard, Manchester. London, March 21st, 1859. Dear Sir: I beg to apologize for being so late in acknowledging the receipt of $112.09, subscribed by you and others at the end of the lecture delivered at your institution by my friend, Mm. Jessie M. White Mario, toward our Italian school, &c. I am very much pleased at my honored friend’s ﬁrst success and response to her efforts in the United States, coming from Young America, to whom Young Italy looks for sympathy and support in her approaching struggle, and my thanks are the thanks of all the members both teachers and pupils, of our Italian school. We are ﬁghting the same sacred battle for freedom and the emancipation of the oppressed—you, Sir, against negro, we against white slavery. The cause is truly identical; for, depend upon it, the day in which we shall succeed in binding to one freely accepted pact twenty-six millions of Italians, we shall give what we cannot now, an active support to the cause you pursue. We are both the servants of the God who says, ‘‘Before Me there is no Master, no Slave, no Man, No Woman, but only Human Nature, which must be everywhere responsible, therefore free.’’ May God bless your efforts and ours! May the day soon arrive in which the word bondage will disappear from our living languages, and only point out a historical record! And, meanwhile, let the knowledge that we, all combatants under the same ﬂag, do, through time and space, commune in love and faith, and strengthen one another against the unavoidable suffering which we must meet on the way. Believe me, my dear Sir, Very gratefully yours, Joseph Mazzini LETTER FROM N. TOURGUENEFF Paris, September 29, 1885. Madame,—seeing you on the point of departing for America, I cannot forbear entreating you to be the bearer of my tribute of respect and admiration to one of

23. Letters on American Slavery

your compatriots. Need I add that I have in view our holy cause of human freedom, and one of its most eminent defenders, Mr. Garrison? Every word he utters is dictated by the deepest sense of justice; but his recent discourse on the anniversary of British Colonial Emancipation is distinguished not only by its profound feeling of sympathy for the emancipated, but by that rigorously just reasoning, and that clear, ﬁrm, and above all, moral logic which leads him to prefer the separation of the States to the continuance of Slavery. It is by this trait that I recognize the true Abolitionist, and the truly worthy man. It was with the truest joy that I read those strong and noble words, each going straight to its end, acknowledging no law superior to the sentiment of right engraven in the human conscience by its divine Creator, and disdaining all the common-place sophistry of weakness and hypocrisy that is so often employed in these discussions. Deeply touched by this discourse of Mr. Garrison, I feel that a Cause so holy, defended by such advocates, could not fail to triumph, if urged forward without delay. Every action, every work, which brings nearer the time of this triumph, is a blessing to millions of unfortunate beings. May Almighty God crown with success the generous labors of all these noble men, who, after all, are but following the commands and walking in the ways traced by his holy will! May I entreat of you, Madame, the kindness of presenting to Mr. Garrison the accompanying copy of my work, by which he will see that a co-laborer in another hemisphere has long wrought in the same vineyard of the Lord; if not with the same renown, I may, at least, venture to say with the same disinterestedness, with the same self-abnegation, with the same love for the oppressed. Even the efforts I made in their behalf they could never directly know, for exile and proscription have compelled me to live far from my own land, and to plead the cause of human rights in a language which is neither theirs nor mine. I am thoroughly persuaded that all success obtained in America in the cause of the colored race will be eminently serviceable to my poor countrymen in Russia. It is then, ﬁrst as a man, and secondly as a Russian, that I hail the efforts of Mr. Garrison and his fellow-laborers for the deliverance of their country from the hideous plague-spot of Slavery. Receive, Madame, my earnest good wishes for your voyage. May Heaven grant that in again beholding your native country, you may there ﬁnd new consolations and fresh encouragements to persevere in the great Cause which you have made the principal object of your life. Accept, at the same time, the expression of my high respect. N. TOURGUENEFF. To Mrs. Henry Grafton Chapman. LETTER FROM HUMBOLDT In 1856, Baron von Humboldt caused the following letter to be inserted in the Spenersche Zeitung:— ‘‘Under the title of Essai Politique sur 1‘ Isle de Cuba, published in Paris in 1826, I collected together all that the large edition of my Voyage aux Regions Equinoxiales du Nouveau Continent contained upon the state of agriculture and slavery in the Antilles. There appeared at the same time an English and a Spanish translation of this work, the latter entitled Ensayo Politico sobre la Isle de Cuba, neither of which omitted any of the frank and open remarks which feelings of humanity had inspired. But

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there appears just now, strangely enough, translated from the Spanish translation, and not from the French original, and published by Derby and Jackson, in New York, an octavo volume of 400 pages, under the title of The Island of Cuba, by Alexander Humboldt; with notes and a preliminary essay by J. S. Thrasher. The translator, who has lived a long time on that beautiful island, has enriched my work by more recent data on the subject of the numerical standing of the population, of the cultivation of the soil, and the state of trade, and, generally speaking, exhibited a charitable moderation in his discussion of conﬂicting opinions. I owe it, however, to a moral feeling, that is now as lively in me as it was in 1826, publicly to complain that in a work which bears my name, the entire seventh chapter of the Spanish translation, with which my essai politique ended, has been arbitrarily omitted. To this very portion of my work I attach greater importance than to any astronomical observations, experiments of magnetic intensity, or statistical statements. I have examined with frankness (I here repeat the words I used thirty years ago) whatever concerns the organization of human society in the colonies, the unequal distribution of the rights and enjoyments of life, and the impending dangers which the wisdom of legislators and the moderation of freemen can avert, whatever may be the form of government. ‘‘It is the duty of the traveller who has been an eye-witness of all that torments and degrades human nature to cause the complaints of the unfortunate to reach those whose duty it is to relieve them. I have repeated, in this treatise, the fact that the ancient legislation of Spain on the subject of slavery is less inhuman and atrocious than that of the slave States on the American continent, north or south of the equator. ‘‘A steady advocate as I am for the most unfettered expression of opinion in speech or in writing, I should never have thought of complaining if I had been attacked on account of my statements; but I do think I am entitled to demand that in the free States of the continent of America, people should be allowed to read what has been permitted to circulate from the ﬁrst year of its appearance in a Spanish translation. ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT ‘‘Berlin, July, 1856.’’ HUMBOLDT ON WEBSTER. ‘‘For thirty years—for thirty years (and he counted them on his ﬁngers)—you have made no progress about slavery; you have gone backward—very far backward in any respects about that. I think especially of your law of 1850, that law by which a man in a free State, where he ought to be free, can be made a slave of. That I always call the Webster law. ‘‘I always before liked Mr. Webster. He was a great man. I knew him, and always till then liked him. But, ever after that, I hated him. He was the man who made it. If he wanted to prevent it, he could have done it. That is the reason why I call it the Webster law. And ever after that, I hated him.’’ I made some remarks about Mr. Webster’s inﬂuence on that point not being conﬁned to a political sphere, but of his also carrying with him that circle of literary men with whom he was connected. ‘‘Yes,’’ said he, ‘‘it was he who did it all; and those very men not connected with politics, who ought to have stood against it, as

23. Letters on American Slavery

you say, he moved with it. You came from New England, where there is so much antislavery feeling, and where you have learned to think slavery is bad. While you are here in Europe, you may see things which you think bad; but I know Europe, and I tell you that you will ﬁnd nothing here that is one half so bad as your slavery is.’’ These were the opinions of Baron Humboldt, a Christian philosopher of worldwide renown, whose views of men and of nations went further to establish their character, than any man now living. As Humboldt thought, the Christian world would think. Mr. Webster, as one of Fillmore’s Cabinet, approved the Fugitive Act, and lent his personal and ofﬁcial inﬂuence to sustain it. By doing that, he let down his own moral nature. He not only disgraced himself, but the nation who placed him in that conspicuous position. We would not speak unkindly of any man; but that reads and reﬂects can be ignorant of the fact, that all who sustain or sanction that infamous enactment must tarnish their own characters, and degrade themselves in their own opinion, and in the opinion of all good men? LETTER FROM O. LAFAYETTE Paris, April 26 1851. To M. Victor Schaelcher, Representative of the People. My Dear Colleague,—you have been so obliging as to ask for my views and impressions respecting one of the most important events of our epoch,—the Abolition of Slavery in the French Colonies. I know well that you have an almost paternal interest in this question. You have contributed more than any one to the emancipation of the blacks, in our possessions beyond the seas, and you have enjoyed the double pleasure of seeing the problem completely resolved, and resolved by the Government of the Republic. At the present time, wearied by controversy, the mind loves to repose upon certain and solid progress, which future events can neither alter nor destroy, and which are justly considered as the true conquests of civilization and humanity. In examining the Emancipation of the Slaves in the French Antilles, from the point of view of the material interests of France, it may be variously appreciated; but the immense moral beneﬁt of the act of Emancipation cannot be contested. In one day, and as by the stroke of a wand, one hundred and ﬁfty thousand of human beings were snatched from the degradation in which they had been held by former legislation, and resumed their rank in the great human family. And we should not omit to state, that this great event was accomplished without our witnessing any of those disorders and struggles which had been threatened, in order to perplex the consciences of the Friends of Abolition. Will the momentary obstruction of material interests be opposed to these great results? When has it ever been possible in this world to do much good, without seeming at the same time to do a little harm? I have sometime heard it said that the conditions labor in the Colonies would have been less disturbed, if the preparation and the accomplishment of the Emancipation had been left to the colonists themselves; but you know better than I, my dear Colleague, that these assertions are hardly sincere. We cannot but recollect with what unanimity and what vehemence the colonial councils opposed, in 1844 and 1845, the Ameliorations that we sought to introduce into the condition of the Slaves.

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Is it not evident that this disposition would have rendered impossible the time of a system of transition, which indeed was attempted without success in the English colonies? For myself, I am quite convinced that it would have been impossible to effect the emancipation otherwise than as it was effected, that is to say, in one day, and by a single decree. I would add also, that in my opinion the Abolition of Slavery in our colonies would have remained a long time unaccomplished, if France had not been in Revolution: and if it be easy to understand why all men of the white race do not consent to the Revolution of 1848, I cannot conceive that a single man of color can be found, who does not regard it with benedictions. Furthermore, my dear colleague, this great question of the Abolition of Negro Slavery, which has my entire sympathy, appears to me to have established its importance throughout the world. At the present time, the States of the Peninsula, if I do not deceive myself, are the only European powers who still continue to possess Slaves; and America, while continuing to uphold Slavery, feel daily more and more how heavily this plague weighs upon her destinies. In expressing to you, my dear colleague, how much I rejoice in these results, I do not gratify my personal feelings alone. I obey also my family traditions. You know the interest which my grandfather, General LaFayette, took in the emancipation of the negroes. You know what he had begun to do at the Habitation de la Gabrielle, and what he intended to do there. It was not among the least regrets of his life, that he was stopped in that enterprise. Pardon, my dear colleague, the details into which I have been led. I know well that I can hardly be indiscreet in speaking on this subject to you. I rely upon those sentiments of friendship which you have always testiﬁed for me, and which differences of opinion respecting other political questions cannot weaken. With fresh assurances of my friendship and consideration, Your obedient servant and devoted Colleague, O. LAFAYETTE, Representative of the People, (Seine et Maine.) Testimony Of Gen. LaFayette. ‘When I am indulging in my views of American liberty, it is mortifying to be reminded that a large portion of the people in that very country are SLAVES. It is a dark spot on the face of the nation.’ ‘I never would have drawn my sword in the cause of American, If I could have conceived that thereby I was helping to found A NATION OF SLAVES.’ LETTER FROM EDWARD BAINES To what source shall we trace the heroic deeds and immortal productions of the ancient Greeks, but to the fount of Liberty? In what mould were those men cast who made Rome the mistress of Italy, and the world but the mould of Liberty? Among whom did art, letter, and commerce revive, after the sleep of the dark ages, but among the citizens of free republics? Where was the Reformation cradled but among the sons of Liberty? What passages of the history of England are held in the fondest remembrance, if not Magna Charta, the Bill of Rights, and the charters and statutes which secure civil and religious freedom? In the history of the United States, what event yet awakens the proud enthusiasm of a whole people, in comparison with the Declaration of Independence? Among the colonies of England, what Act arouses a joy the deepest and most universal but that of Slave Emancipation?

23. Letters on American Slavery

Does not every oppressed nation groan in its bondage? Does not every free nation exult in its freedom? Would not every slave leap to break his chains? If in any nation, slavery is the most monstrous of inconsistencies, it is in a free republic; and if in any community it is the most ﬂagrant of sins, it is in a Christian community. Nothing is more notorious than the tendency of self-interest to blind the judgment; and it is, therefore, the part of wisdom for those who are interested, to ask in any question of difﬁculty the judgment of those who are disinterested. If American Christians will accept the opinion of English Christians they will learn that it is unanimously and unhesitatingly adverse to slavery. Without distinction of party or sect, Englishmen condemn the system of slaveholding; but if any are more earnest than others in expressing this condemnation, it is those who rejoice in the establishment of American Independence, and who have most sympathy with free institutions. It is not assumed that all masters are cruel, or all miserable. But it is known that masters may be cruel with impunity, and that slaves are, to the last hour of life, devoid of security for person, property, home, wife, or children. To reﬂect on these things shocks the understanding and heart of all English Christians. They feel deeply for their Christian brethren and sisters in bondage, and it is difﬁcult for them to believe that other Christian brethren can be the means of so great an injustice. A Christian inﬂicting the lash, as it is inﬂicted in the Slave States of America, or selling his fellow man for money, seems to them an incomprehensible thing. Be it remembered, there is no national or political prejudice in this. English Christians felt the same when the slave owners were their own countrymen, and so strongly did they feel it as to buy the freedom of the slaves at a great price. May they not, then, appeal to the Christians of the United States, to declare uncompromising hostility against the slave system? Let slavery be abolished, and the United States would rise higher in the estimation of the Old World, than if all the New World were embraced in their Union, and all were one golden California. Edward Baines. Leeds Mercury Ofﬁce, Nov. 9th, 1856. TESTIMONY OF DANIEL O’CONNELL. I will now turn to a subject of congratulation: I mean the Anti-Slavery Societies of America—those noble-hearted men and women, who through difﬁculties and dangers, have proved how hearty they are in the cause of abolition. I hail them all as my friends, and wish them to regard me as a brother. I wish for no higher station in the world; but I do covet the honor of being a brother with these American Abolitionists. In this country, the abolitionists are in perfect safety; here we have fame and honor; we are lauded and encouraged by the good; we are smiled upon and cheered by the fair; we are bound together by godlike truth and charity; and though we have our differences as to points of faith, we have no differences as to this point, and we proceed in our useful career esteemed and honored. But it is not so with our anti-slavery friends in America: there they are viliﬁed, there they are insulted. Why, did not very lately a body of men—of gentlemen, so called—of persons who would be angry if you denied them that cognomen, and would even be ready to call you out to share a riﬂe and a ball—did not such ‘‘gentlemen’’ break in upon an AntiSlavery Society in America; aye, upon a ladies’ Anti-Slavery Society, and assault

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them in a America; aye, upon a ladies’ Anti-Slavery Society, and assault them in a most cowardly manner? And did they not denounce the members of that Society? And where did this happen? Why, in Boston—in enlightened Boston, the capital of a non-slaveholding State. In this country, the abolitionist have nothing to complain of; but in America, they are met with the bowie-knife and lynch law! Yes! in America, you have had martyrs; your cause has been stained with blood; the voice of your brethren’s blood crieth from the ground, and riseth high, not, I trust, for vengeance, but for mercy upon those who have thus treated them. But you ought not be discouraged, nor relax in your efforts. Here you have honor. A human being cannot be placed in a more glorious position than to take up such a cause under such circumstances. I am delighted to be one of a Convention in which are so many of such great and good men. I trust that their reception will be such as that their zeal may be greatly strengthened to continue their noble struggle. I have reason to hope that, in this assembly, a voice will be raised which will roll back in thunder to America, which will mingle with her mighty waves, and which will cause one universal shout of liberty to be heard throughout the world. O, there is not a delegate from the Anti-Slavery Societies of America, but ought to have his name, aye, her name, written in characters of immortality. The Anti-Slavery Societies in America are deeply persecuted, and are deserving of every encouragement which we can possibly give them. I would that I had the eloquence to depict their character aright; but my tongue falters, and my powers fail, while I attempt to describe them. They are the true friends of humanity, and would that I had a tongue to describe aright the mighty majesty of their undertaking!—[ Extract from a speech of Daniel o’Connell, at the World’s Anti-Slavery Convention in London, 1840.] Source: Boston: American Anti-slavery Society, 1860. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A. P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

24. Correspondence between Lydia Maria Child and Gov. Wise and Mrs. Mason, of Virginia, 1860 In 1860, Virginia abolitionist Lydia Maria Child wrote to Governor Henry A. Wise of Virginia regarding the arrest and execution of abolitionist John Brown. In the fall of 1859 (October 16), Brown and twenty-one men had arrived under the cover of night in the Virginia town of Harpers Ferry. The abolitionist had captured scores of local ofﬁcials as hostages and seized arms from an arsenal. Dubbing themselves part of an ‘‘army of emancipation,’’ Brown and his men had hoped to spark a rebellion that would eventually overturn slavery. Instead, the rebels were captured by Col. Robert E. Lee. Brown was tried, convicted of murder and slave insurrection, and promptly hanged. In her correspondence with Wise, Child criticizes Virginia’s laws on race and draws a rebuke from Wise. Also included is a letter from John Brown to Child asking for ﬁnancial help for his family, and an exchange of (hostile) letters between Child and another Virginia woman, Mrs. Mason, over the issues of Brown’s tactics and slavery. Wayland, Mass., Oct. 26th, 1859. Governor Wise: I have heard that you were a man of chivalrous sentiments, and I know you were opposed to the iniquitous attempt to force upon Kansas a

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Constitution abhorrent to the moral sense of her people. Relying upon these indications of honor and justice in your character, I venture to ask a favor of you. Enclosed is a letter to Capt. John Brown. Will you have the kindness, after reading it yourself, to transmit it to the prisoner? I and all my large circle of abolition acquaintances were taken by surprise when news came of Capt. Brown’s recent attempt; nor do I know of a single person who would have approved of it, had they been apprised of his intention. But I and thousands of others feel a natural impulse of sympathy for the brave and suffering man. Perhaps God, who sees the inmost of our souls, perceives some such sentiment in your heart also. He needs a mother or sister to dress his wounds, and speak soothingly to him. Will you allow me to perform that mission of humanity? If you will, may God bless you for the generous deed! I have been for years an uncompromising Abolitionist, and I should scorn to deny it or apologize for it as much as John Brown himself would do. Believing in peace principles, I deeply regret the step that the old veteran has taken, while I honor his humanity towards those who became his prisoners. But because it is my habit to be as open as the daylight, I will also say, that if I believed our religion justiﬁed men in ﬁghting for freedom, I should consider the enslaved every where as best entitled to that right. Such an avowal is a simple, frank expression of my sense of natural justice. But I should despise myself utterly if any circumstances could tempt me to seek to advance these opinions in any way, directly or indirectly, after your permission to visit Virginia has been obtained on the plea of sisterly sympathy with a brave and suffering man. I give you my word of honor, which was never broken, that I would use such permission solely and singly for the purpose of nursing your prisoner, and for no other purpose whatsoever. Yours, respectfully, L. Maria Child REPLY OF GOV. WISE Richmond, Va., Oct. 29th, 1859 Madam: Yours of the 26th was received by me yesterday, and at my earliest leisure I respectfully reply to it, that I will forward the letter for John Brown, a prisoner under our laws, arraigned at the bar of the Circuit Court for the country of Jefferson, at Charlestown, Va., for the crimes of murder, robbery and treason, which you ask me to transmit to him. I will comply with your request in the only way which seems to me proper, by enclosing it to the Commonwealth’s attorney, with the request that he will ask the permission of the Court to hand it to the prisoner. Brown, the prisoner, is now in the hands of the judiciary, not of the executive, of this Commonwealth. You ask me, further, to allow you to perform the mission ‘‘of mother or sister, to dress his wounds, and speak soothingly to him.’’ By this, of course, you mean to be allowed to visit him in his cell, and to minister to him in the ofﬁces of humanity. Why should you not be so allowed, Madam? Virginia and Massachusetts are involved in no civil war, and the Constitution which unites them in one confederacy guarantees to you the privileges and immunities of a citizen of the United States in the State of Virginia. That Constitution I am sworn to support, and am,

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therefore, bound to protect your privileges and immunities as a citizen of Massachusetts coming into Virginia for any lawful and peaceful purpose. Coming, as you propose, to minister to the captive in prison, you will be met, doubtless, by all our people, not only in a chivalrous, but in a Christian spirit. You have the right to visit Charlestown. Va., Madam; and your mission being merciful and humane, will not only allowed, but respected if not welcomed. A few unenlightened and inconsiderate persons, fanatical in their modes of thought and action, to maintain justice and right, might molest you, or be disposed to do so; and this might suggest the imprudence of risking any experiment upon the peace of a society very much excited by the crimes with whose chief author you seem to sympathize so much. But still, I repeat, your motives and avowed purpose are lawful and peaceful, and I will, as far as I am concerned, do my duty in protecting your rights in our limits. Virginia and her authorities would be weak indeed—weak in point of folly, and weak in point of power—if her State faith and constitutional obligations cannot be redeemed in her own limits to the letter of morality as well as of law; and if her chivalry cannot courteously receive a lady’s visit to a prison, every arm which guards Brown from rescue on the one hand, and from Lynch law on the other, will be ready to guard your person in Virginia. I could not permit an insult even to woman in her walk of charity among us, though it to be to one who whetted knives of butchery for our mothers, sisters, daughters and babes. We have no sympathy with your sentiments of sympathy with Brown, and are surprised that you were ‘‘taken by surprise when news came of Capt. Brown’s recent attempt.’’ His attempt was a natural consequence of your sympathy, and the errors of that sympathy ought to make you doubt its virtue from the effect on his conduct. But it is not of this I should speak. When you arrive at Charlestown, if you go there, it will be for the Court and its ofﬁcers, the Commonwealth’s attorney, sheriff and jailer, to say whether you may see and wait. On the prisoner. But whether you are thus permitted or not, (and you will be, if my advice can prevail) you may rest assured that he will be humanely, lawfully and mercifully dealt by in prison and on trial. Respectfully, Henry A. Wise MRS. CHILD TO GOV. WISE In your civil but very diplomatic reply to my letter, you inform me that I have a constitutional right to visit Virginia, for peaceful purposes, in common with every citizen of the United States. I was perfectly well aware that such was the theory of constitutional obligation in the Slave States; but I was also aware of what you omit to mention, viz.; that the Constitution has, in reality, been completely and systematically nulliﬁed, whenever it suited the convenience or the policy of the Slave Power. Your constitutional obligation, for which you profess so much respect, has never proved any protection to citizens of the Free States, who happened to have a black, brown, or yellow complexion; nor to any white citizen whom you even suspected of entertaining opinions opposite to your own, on a question of vast importance to the temporal welfare and moral example of our common country. This total disregard of constitutional obligation has been manifested not merely by the Lynch Law of mobs in the Slave States, but by the deliberate action of magistrates

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and legislators. What regard was paid to constitutional obligation in South Carolina, when Massachusetts sent the Hon. Mr. Hoar there as an envoy, on a purely legal errand? Mr. Hedrick, Professor of Political Economy in the University of North Carolina, had a constitutional right to reside in that State. What regard was paid to that right, when he was driven from his home, merely for declaring that he considered Slavery an impolitic system, injurious to the prosperity of States? What respect for constitutional rights was manifested by Alabama, when a bookseller in Mobile was compelled to ﬂee for his life, because he had, at the special request of some of the citizens, imported a few copies of a novel that every body was curious to read? Your own citizen, Mr. Underwood, had a constitutional right to live in Virginia, and vote for whomsoever he pleased. What regard was paid to his rights, when he was driven from your State for declaring himself in favor of the election of Fremont? With these, and a multitude of other examples before your eyes, it would seem as if the less that was said about respect for constitutional obligations at the South, the better. Slavery is, in fact, an infringement of all law, and adheres to no law, save for its own purposes of oppression. You accuse Captain John Brown of ‘‘whetting knives of butchery for the mothers, sisters, daughters and babes’’ of Virginia; and you inform me of the well-known fact that he is ‘‘arraigned for the crimes of murder, robbery and treason.’’ I will not here stop to explain why I believe that old hero to be no criminal, but a martyr to righteous principles which he sought to advance by methods sanctioned by his own religious views, though not by mine. Allowing that Capt. Brown did attempt a scheme in which murder, robbery and treason were, to his own consciousness, involved, I do not see how Gov. Wise can consistently arraign him for crimes he has himself commended. You have threatened to trample on the Constitution, and break the Union, if a majority of the legal voters in these Confederated States dared to elect a President unfavorable to the extension of Slavery. Is not such a declaration proof of premeditated treason? In the Spring of 1842, you made a speech in Congress, from which I copy the following:— ‘‘Once set before the people of the Great Valley the conquest of the rich Mexican Provinces, and you might as well attempt to stop the wind. This Government might send its troops, but they would run over them like a herd of buffalo. Let the work once begin, and I do not know that this House would hold me very long. Give me ﬁve millions of dollars, and I would undertake to do it myself. Although I do not know how to set a single squadron in the ﬁeld, I could ﬁnd men to do it. Slavery should pour itself abroad, without restraint, and ﬁnd no limit but the Southern Ocean. The Camanches should no longer hold the richest mines of Mexico. Every golden image which had received the profanation of a false worship, should soon be melted down into good American eagles. I would cause as much gold to cross the Rio del Norte as the mules of Mexico could carry; aye, and I would make better use of it, too, than any lazy, bigoted priesthood under heaven.’’ When you thus boasted that you and your ‘‘booted loafers’’ would overrun the troops of the United States ‘‘like a herd of buffalo,’’ if the Government sent them to arrest your invasion of a neighboring nation, at peace with the United States, did you not pledge yourself to commit treason? Was it not by robbery, even of churches, that you proposed to load the mules of Mexico with gold for the United States? Was it not by the murder of unoffending Mexicans that you expected to advance those schemes of avarice and ambition? What humanity had you for Mexican ‘‘mothers

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and babes,’’ whom you proposed to make childless and fatherless? And for what purpose was this wholesale massacre to take place? Not to right the wrongs of any oppressed class; not to sustain any great principles of justice, or of freedom; but merely to enable ‘‘Slavery to pour itself forth without restraint.’’ Even if Captain Brown were as bad as you paint him, I should suppose he must naturally remind you of the words of Macbeth: ‘‘We but teach Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice To our own lips.’’ If Captain Brown intended, as you say, to commit treason, robbery and murder, I think I have shown that he could ﬁnd ample authority for such proceedings in the public declarations of Gov. Wise. And if, as he himself declares, he merely intended to free the oppressed, where could he read a more forcible lesson than is furnished by the State Seal of Virginia? I looked at it thoughtfully before I opened your letter; and though it had always appeared to me very suggestive, it never seemed to me so much so as it now did in connection with Captain John Brown. A liberty-loving hero stands with his foot upon a prostrate despot; under his strong arm, manacles and chains lie broken; and the motto is, ‘‘Sic Semper Tyrannis’’; ‘‘Thus be it ever done to Tyrants.’’ And this is the blazon of a State whose most proﬁtable business is the Internal Slave-Trade!—in whose highways cofﬂes of human chattles, chained and manacled, are frequently seen! And the Seal and the Cofﬂes are both looked upon by other chattles, constantly exposed to the same fate! What if some Vezey, or Nat Turner, should be growing up among those apparently quiet spectators? It is in no spirit if taunt or of exultation that I ask this question. I never think of it but with anxiety, sadness, and sympathy. I know that a slave-holding community necessarily lives in the midst of gunpowder; and, in this age, sparks of free thought are ﬂying in every direction. You cannot quench the ﬁres of free thought and human sympathy by any process of cunning or force; but there is a method by which you can effectually wet the gunpowder. England has already tried it, with safety and success. Would that you could be persuaded to set aside the prejudices of education, and candidly examine the actual working of that experiment! Virginia is so richly endowed by nature that Free Institutions alone are wanting to render her the most prosperous and powerful of the States. In your letter, you suggest that such a scheme as Captain Brown’s is the natural result of the opinions with which I sympathize. Even if I thought this to be a correct statement, though I should deeply regret it, I could not draw the conclusion that humanity ought to be stiﬂed, and truth struck dumb, for fear that long-successful despotism might be endangered by their utterance. But the fact is, you mistake the source of that strange outbreak. No abolition arguments or denunciations, however earnestly, loudly, or harshly proclaimed, would have produced that result. It was the legitimate consequence of the continual and constantly increasing aggressions of the Slave Power. The Slave States, in their desperate efforts to sustain a bad and dangerous institution, have encroached more and more upon the liberties of the Free States. Our inherent love of law and order, and our superstitious attachment to the

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Union, you have mistaken for cowardice; and rarely have you let slip any opportunity to add insult to aggression. The manifested opposition to Slavery began with the lectures and pamphlets of a few disinterested men and women, who based their movements upon purely moral and religious grounds; but their expostulations were met with a storm of rage, with tar and feathers, brickbats, demolished houses, and other applications of Lynch Law. When the dust of the conﬂict began to subside a little, their numbers were found to be greatly increased by the efforts to exterminate them. They had become an inﬂuence in the State too important to be overlooked by shrewd calculators. Political economists began to look at the subject from a lower point of view. They used their abilities to demonstrate that slavery was a wasteful system, and that the Free States were taxed, to an enormous extent, to sustain an institution which, at heart, two-thirds of them abhorred. The forty millions, or more, of dollars, expended in hunting Fugitive Slaves in Florida, under the name of the Seminole War, were adduced, as one item in proof, to which many more were added. At last, politicians were compelled to take some action on the subject. It soon became known to all the people that the Slave States had always managed to hold in their hands the political power of the Union, and that while they constituted only one-third of the white population of these States, they held more than two-thirds of all the lucrative, and once honorable ofﬁces; an indignity to which none but a subjugated people had ever submitted. The knowledge also became generally diffused, that while the Southern States owned their Democracy at home, and voted for them, they also systematically bribed the nominally Democratic party, at the North, with the ofﬁces adroitly kept at their disposal. Through these, and other instrumentalities, the sentiments of the original Garrisonian Abolitionist became very widely extended, in forms more or less diluted. But by far the most efﬁcient co-labors we have ever had have been the Slave States themselves. By denying us the sacred Right of Petition, they roused the free spirit of the North, as it never could have been roused by the loud trumpet of Garrison, or the soul-annimating bugle of Phillips. They bought the great slave, Daniel, and according to their established usage, paid him no wages for his labor. By his cooperation, they forced the Fugitive Slave Law upon us, in violation of all our humane instincts and all our principles of justice. And what did they procure for the Abolitionist by that despotic process? A deeper and wider detestation of Slavery throughout the Free States, and the publication of Uncle Tom’s Cabin, an eloquent outburst of moral indignation, whose echoes wakened the world to look upon their shame. By ﬁllibustering and fraud, they dismembered Mexico, and having thus obtained the soil of Texas, they tried to introduce it as a Slave State into the Union. Failing to effect their purpose by constitutional means, they accomplished it by a most open and palpable violation of the Constitution, and by obtaining the votes of Senators on the false pretences.* [Note: *The following Senators, Mr. Niles, of Connecticut, Mr. Dix, of New York, and Mr. Tappan, of Ohio, published statements that their votes had been obtained by false representations; and they declared that the case was the same with Mr. Heywood, of North Carolina.] Soon afterward, a Southern Slave Administration ceded to the powerful monarchy of Great Britain several hundred thousands of square miles, that must have

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been made into Free States, to which that same Administration had declared that the United States had ‘‘an unquestionable right;’’ and then they turned upon the weak Republic of Mexico, and, in order to make more Slave States, wrested from her twice as many hundred thousands of square miles, to which we had not a shadow of right. Notwithstanding all these extra efforts, they saw symptoms that the political power so long held with a ﬁrm grasp was in danger of slipping from their hands, by reason of the extension of Abolition sentiments, and the greater prosperity of Free States. Emboldened by continual success in aggression, they made use of the pretence of ‘‘Squatter Sovereignty’’ to break the league into which they had formerly cajoled the servile representatives of our blinded people, by which all the territory of the United States south of 36 ° 30’ was guaranteed to Slavery, and all north of it to Freedom. Thus Kansas became the battle-ground of the antagonistic elements in our Government. Rufﬁans hired by the Slave Power were sent thither temporarily, to do the voting, and drive from the polls the legal voters, who were often murdered in the process. Names, copied from the directories of cities in other States, were returned by thousands as legal voters in Kansas, in order to establish a Constitution abhorred by the people. This was their exempliﬁcation of Squatter Sovereignty. A Massachusetts Senator, distinguished for candor, courtesy, and stainless integrity, was half murdered by slaveholders, merely for having the manliness to state these facts to the assembled Congress of the nation. Peaceful emigrants from the North, who went to Kansas for no other purpose than to till the soil, erect mills, and establish manufactories, schools, and churches, were robbed, outraged, and murdered. For many months, a war more ferocious than the warfare of wild Indians was carried on against a people almost unresisting, because they relied upon the Central Government for aid. And all this while, the power of the United States, wielded by the Slave Oligarchy, was on the side of the aggressors. They literally tied the stones, and let loose the mad dogs. This was the state of things when the hero of Osawatomie and his brave sons went to the rescue. It was he who ﬁrst turned the tide of Border-Rufﬁan triumph, by showing them that blows were to be taken as well as given. You may believe it or not, Gov. Wise, but it is certainly the truth that, because slaveholders so recklessly sowed the wind in Kansas, they reaped a whirlwind at Harper’s Ferry. The people of the North had a very strong attachment to the Union; but, by your desperate measures, you have weakened it beyond all power of restoration. They are not your enemies, as you suppose, but they cannot consent to be your tools for any ignoble task you may choose to propose. You must not judge of us by the crawling sinuosities of an Everett; or by our magniﬁcent hound, whom you trained to hunt your poor cripples, and then sent him sneaking into a corner to die—not with shame for the base purposes to which his strength had been applied, but with vexation because you withheld from him the promised bone. Not by such as these must you judge the free, enlightened ycomanry of New England. A majority of them would rejoice to have the Slave States fulﬁl their oft-repeated threat of withdrawal from the Union. It has ceased to be a bugbear, for we begin to despair of being able, by any other process, to give the world the example of a real republic. The moral sense of these States is outraged by being accomplices in sustaining an institution vicious in all its aspects; and it is now generally understood that we purchase our disgrace at great pecuniary expense. If you would only make the offer of a separation

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in serious earnest, you would here the hearty response of millions, ‘‘Go, gentlemen, and ‘stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once!’’’ Yours, with all due respect, L. Maria Child EXPLANATORY LETTER To The Editor Of The New York Tribune: Sir: I was much surprised to see my correspondence with Governor Wise published in your columns. As I have never given any person a copy, I presume you must have obtained it from Virginia. My proposal to go and nurse that brave and generous old man, who so willingly gives his life a sacriﬁce for God’s oppressed poor, originated in a very simple and unmeritorious impulse of kindness. I heard his friends inquiring, ‘‘Has he no wife, or sister, that can go to nurse him? We are trying to ascertain, for he needs some one.’’ My niece said she would go at once, if her health were strong enough to be trusted. I replied that my age and state of health rendered me a more suitable person to go, and that I would go most gladly. I accordingly wrote to Captain Brown, and enclosed the letter to Governor Wise. My intention was to slip away quietly, without having the affair made public. I packed my trunk and collected a quantity of old linen for lint, and awaited tidings from Virginia. When Governor Wise answered, he suggested the ‘‘imprudence of trying any experiment upon the peace of a society already greatly excited,’’ &c. My husband and I took counsel together, and we both concluded that, as the noble old veteran was said to be fast recovering from his wounds, and as my presence might create a popular excitement unfavorable to such chance as the prisoner had for a fair trial, I had better wait until I received a reply from Captain Brown himself. Fearing to do him more harm than good by following my impulse, I waited for his own sanction. Meanwhile, his wife, said to be a brave-hearted Roman matron, worthy of such a mate, has gone to him, and I have received the following reply. Respectfully yours, L. Maria Child Boston, Nov. 10, 1859. MRS. CHILD TO JOHN BROWN Wayland, Mass., Oct. 26, 1859 Dear Capt. Brown: Though personally unknown to you, you will recognize in my name an earnest friend of Kansas, when circumstances made that Territory the battle-ground between the antagonistic principles of slavery and freedom, which politicians so vainly strive to reconcile in the government of the United States. Believing in peace principles, I cannot sympathize with the method you chose to advance the cause of freedom. But I honor your generous intentions—I admire your courage, moral and physical. I reverence you for the humanity which tempered your zeal. I sympathize with you in your cruel bereavement, your sufferings, and your wrongs. In brief, I love you and bless you. Thousands of hearts are throbbing with sympathy as warm as mine. I think of you night and day, bleeding in prison, surrounded by hostile faces, sustained only by trust in God and your own heart. I long to nurse you—to speak to you sisterly words

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of sympathy and consolation. I have asked permission of Governor Wise to do so. If the request is not granted, I cherish the hope that these few words may at least reach your hands, and afford you some little solace. May you be strengthened by the conviction that no honest man ever sheds blood for freedom in vain, however much he may be mistaken in his efforts. May God sustain you, and carry you through whatsoever may be in store for you! Yours, with heartfelt respect, sympathy and affection, L. Maria Child

REPLY OF JOHN BROWN Mrs. L. Maria Child: My Dear Friend—Such you prove to be, though a stranger—your most kind letter has reached me, with the kind offer to come here and take care of me. Allow me to express my gratitude for your great sympathy, and at the same time to propose to you a different course, together with my reasons for wishing it. I should certainly be greatly pleased to become personally acquainted with one so gifted and so kind, but I cannot avoid seeing some objections to it, under present circumstances. First, I am in charge of a most humane gentleman, who, with his family, has rendered me every possible attention I have desired, or that could be of the least advantage; and I am so recovered of my wounds as no longer to require nursing. Then, again, it would subject you to great personal inconvenience and heavy expense, without doing me any good. Allow me to name to you another channel through which you may reach me with your sympathies much more effectually. I have at home a wife and three young daughters, the youngest but little over ﬁve years old, the oldest nearly sixteen. I have also two daughters-in-law, whose husbands have both fallen near me here. There is also another widow, Mrs. Thompson, whose husband fell here. Whether she is a mother or not, I cannot say. All these, my wife included, live at North Elba, Essex county, New York. I have a middle-aged son, who has been, in some degree, a cripple from his childhood, who would have as much as he could well do to earn a living. He was a most dreadful sufferer in Kansas, and lost all he had laid up. He has not enough to clothe himself for the winter comfortably. I have no living son, or son-in-law, who did not suffer terribly in Kansas. Now, dear friend, would you not as soon contribute ﬁfty cents now, and a like sum yearly, for the relief of those very poor and deeply afﬂicted persons, to enable them to supply themselves and their children with bread and very plain clothing, and to enable the children to receive a common English education? Will you also devote your own energies to induce others to join you in giving a like amount, or any other amount, to constitute a little fund for the purpose named? I cannot see how your coming here can do me the least good; and I am quite certain you can do immense good where you are. I am quite cheerful under all my afﬂicting circumstances and prospects; having, as I humbly trust, ‘‘the peace of God which passeth all understanding’’ to rule in my heart. You may make such use of this as you see it ﬁt. God Almighty bless and reward you a thousand fold! Yours in sincerity and truth, John Brown

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LETTER OF MRS. MASON Alto, King George’s Co., Va., Nov. 11th, 1859 Do you read your Bible, Mrs. Child? If you do, read there, ‘‘Woe unto you, hypocrites,’’ and take to yourself with two-fold damnation that terrible sentence; for, rest assured, in the day of judgment it shall be more tolerable for those thus scathed by the awful denunciation of the Son of God, than for you. You would soothe with sisterly and motherly care the hoary-headed murderer of Harper’s Ferry! A man whose aim and intention was to incite the horrors of a servile war—to condemn women of your own race, ere death closed their eyes on their sufferings from violence and outrage, to see their husbands and fathers murdered, their children butchered, the ground strewed with the brains of their babes. The antecedents of Brown’s band proved them to have been the offscourings of the earth; and what would have been our fate had they found as many sympathizers in Virginia as they seem to have in Massachusetts? Now, compare yourself with those your ‘‘sympathy’’ would devote to such ruthless ruin, and say, on that ‘‘word of honor, which never has been broken,’’ would you stand by the bedside of an old negro, dying of a hopeless disease, to alleviate his sufferings as far as human aid could? Have you ever watched the last, lingering illness of a consumptive, to soothe, as far as in you lay, the inevitable fate? Do you soften the pangs of maternity in those around you by all the care and comfort you can give? Do you grieve with those near you, even though the sorrows resulted from their own misconduct? Did you ever sit up until the ‘‘wee hours’’ to complete a dress for a motherless child, that she might appear on Christmas day in a new one, along with her more fortunate companions? We do these and more for our servants, and why? Because we endeavor to do our duty in that state of life it has pleased God to place us. In his revealed word we read our duties to them—theirs to us are there also—‘‘Not only to the good and gentle, but to the forward.’’—(Peter 2:18.) Go thou and do likewise, and keep away from Charlestown. If the stories read in the public prints be true, of the sufferings of the poor of the North, you need not go far for objects of charity. ‘‘Thou hypocrite! take ﬁrst the beam out of thine own eye, then shalt thou see clearly to pull the mote out of thy neighbor’s.’’ But if, indeed, you do lack objects of sympathy near you, go to Jefferson county, to the family of George Turner, a noble, truehearted man, whose devotion to his friend (Col. Washington) causing him to risk his life, was shot down like a dog. Or to that of old Beckham, whose grief at the murder of his negro subordinate made him needlessly expose himself to the aim of the assassin Brown. And when you can equal in deeds of love and charity to those around you, what is shown by nine-tenths of the Virginia plantations, then by your ‘‘sympathy’’ whet the knives for our throats, and kindle the torch that ﬁres our homes. You reverence Brown for his clemency to his prisoners! Prisoners! and how taken? Unsuspecting workmen, going to their daily duties; unarmed gentlemen, taken from their beds at the dead hour of the night, by six men doubly and trebly armed. Suppose he had hurt a hair of their heads, do you suppose one of the band of desperadoes would have left the engine-house alive? And did he not know that his treatment of them was only hope of life then, or of clemency afterward? Of course he did. The United States troops could not have prevented him from being torn limb from limb. I will add, in conclusion, no Southerner ought, after your letter to Governor Wise and to Brown, to read a line of your composition, or to touch a magazine

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which bears your name in its lists of contributors; and in this we hope for the ‘‘sympathy,’’ at least of those at the North who deserve the name of woman. M. J. C. Mason REPLY OF MRS. CHILD Wayland, Mass., Dec. 17th, 1859. Prolonged absence from home has prevented my answering your letter so soon as I intended. I have no disposition to retort upon you the ‘‘two-fold damnation’’ to which you consign me. On the Contrary, I sincerely wish you well, both in this world and the next. If the anathema proved a safety valve to your own boiling spirit, it did some good to you, while it fell harmless upon me. Fortunately for all of us, the Heavenly Father rules His universe by laws, which the passions or the prejudices of mortals have no power to change. As for John Brown, his reputation may be safety trusted to the impartial pen of History; and his motives will be righteously judged by Him who knoweth the secrets of all hearts. Men, however great they may be, are of small consequence in comparison with principles; and the principle for which John Brown died is the question issue between us. You refer me to the Bible, from which you quote the favorite text of slaveholders:—‘‘Servants, be subject to your masters with all fear; not only to the good and gentle, but also to the forward.’’—1 Peter, 2:18. Abolitionists also have favorite texts, to some of which I would call your attention:— ‘‘Remember those that are in bonds as bound with them.’’—Heb. 13:3. ‘‘Hide the outcasts. Bewray not him that wandereth. Let mine outcasts dwell with thee. Be thou a convert to them from the face of the spoiler.’’—Isa. 16:3, 4. ‘‘Thou shalt not deliver unto his master the servant which is escaped from his master unto thee. He shall dwell with thee where it liketh him best. Thou shalt not oppress him.’’—Deut. 23:15, 16. ‘‘Open thy mouth for the dumb, in the cause of all such are appointed to destruction. Open thy mouth judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy.’’—Prov. 29:8, 9. ‘‘Cry aloud, spare not, lift up thy voice like a trumpet, and show my people their transgression, and the house of Jacob their sins.’’—Isa. 58:1. I would especially commend to slaveholders the following portions of that volume, wherein you say God has revealed the duty of masters:— ‘‘Masters, give unto your servants that which is just and equal, knowing that ye also have a Master in heaven.’’—Col. 4:1. ‘‘Neither be ye called masters; for one is your master, even Christ; and all ye are brethren.’’—Matt. 23: 8, 10. ‘‘Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them.’’—Matt. 7: 12. ‘‘Is not this the fast that I have chosen, to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke?’’—Isa. 58:6.

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‘‘They have given a boy for a harlot, and sold a girl for wine, that they might drink.’’—Joel 3:3. ‘‘He that oppresseth the poor, reproacheth his Maker.’’—Prov. 14:31. ‘‘Rob not the poor, because he is poor; neither oppress the afﬂicted. For the Lord will plead their cause, and spoil the soul of those who spoiled them.’’—Prov. 22:22, 23. ‘‘Woe unto him that useth his neighbor’s service without wages, and giveth him not for his work.’’—Jer. 22:13. ‘‘Let him that stole, steal no more, but rather let him labor, working with his hands.’’—Eph. 4:28. ‘‘Woe unto them that decree unrighteous decrees, and that write grievousness which they have prescribed; to turn aside the needy from judgment, and to take away the right from the poor, that widows may be their prey, and that they may rob the fatherless.’’—Isa. 10:1, 2. ‘‘If I did despise the cause of my man-servant or my maid-servant, when they contend with me, what then shall I do when God riseth up? and when he visiteth, what shall I answer Him?’’—Job 31:13, 14. ‘‘Thou hast sent widows away empty, and the arms of the fatherless have been broken. Therefore snares are round about thee, and sudden fear troubleth thee; and darkness, that thou canst not see.’’—Job 22:9, 10, 11. ‘‘Behold, the hire of your laborers, who have reaped down your ﬁelds, which is of you kept back by fraud, crieth; and the cries of them which have reaped are entered into the ears of the Lord of saboath. Ye have lived in pleasure on the earth, and been wanton; ye have nourishes your hearts as in a day of slaughter; ye have condemned and killed the just.’’—James 5:4. If the appropriateness of these texts is not apparent, I will try to make it so, by evidence drawn entirely from Southern sources. The Abolitionists are not such an ignorant set of fanatics as you suppose. They know whereof they afﬁrm. They are familiar with the laws of the Slave States, which are alone sufﬁcient to inspire abhorrence in any humane heart or reﬂecting mind not perverted by the prejudices of education and custom. I might ﬁll many letters with signiﬁcant extracts from your statue-books; but I have space only to glance at a few, which indicate the leading features of the system you cherish so tenaciously. The universal rule of the slave State is, that ‘‘the child follows the condition of its mother.’’ This is an index to many things. Marriages between white and colored people are forbidden by law; yet a very large number of the slaves are brown or yellow. When Lafayette visited this country in his old age, he said he was very much struck by the great change in the colored population of Virginia; that in the time of the Revolution, nearly all the household slaves were black, but when he returned to America, he found very few of them black. The advertisements in Southern newspapers often describe runaway slaves that ‘‘pass themselves for white men.’’ Sometimes they are descibed as having straight, light hair blue eyes, and clear complexion.’’ This could not be, unless their fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers had been white men. But as their mothers were slaves, the law pronounces them slaves, subject to be sold on the auction-block whenever the necessities or convenience of their masters or mistresses required it. The sale of one’s own children, brother, or sisters, has an ugly aspect to those who are unaccustomed to it; and, obviously, it cannot have a good moral inﬂuence, that law and custom should render licentiousness a proﬁtable vice.

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Throughout the Slave States, the testimony of no colored person, bond or free, can be received against a white man. You have some laws, which, on the face of them, would seem to restrain inhuman men from murdering or mutilating slaves; but they are rendered nearly null by the law I have cited. Any drunken master, overseer, or patrol, may go into the negro cabins, and commit what outrages he pleases, with perfect impunity, if no white person is present who chooses to witness against him. North Carolina and Georgia leave a large loophole for escape, even if white persons present, when murder is committed. A law to punish persons for ‘‘maliciously killing a slave’’ has this remarkable qualiﬁcation: ‘‘Always provided that this act shall not extend to any dying of moderate correction.’’ We at the North ﬁnd it difﬁcult to understand how moderate punishment can cause death. I have read several of your law books attentively, and I ﬁnd no cases of punishment for the murder of a slave, except by ﬁnes paid to the owner, to indemnify him for the loss of his property: the same as if his horse or cow had been killed. In South Carolina Reports is a case where the State had indicted Guy Raines for the murder of slave Isaac. It was proved that William Gray, the owner of Isaac, had given him a thousand lashes. The poor creature made his escape, but was caught, and delivered to the custody of Raines, to be carried to the county jail. Because he refused to go, Raines gave him ﬁve hundred lashes, and he died soon after. The counsel for Raines proposed that he should be allowed to acquit himself by his own oath. The Court decided against it, because white witnesses had testiﬁed; but the Court of afterward decided he ought to have been exculpated by his own oath, and he was acquitted. Small indeed is the chance for justice to a slave, when his own color are not allowed to testify, if they see him maimed or his children murdered; when he has slaveholders for Judges and Jurors; when the murderer can exculpate himself by his own oath; and when the law provides that it is no murder to kill a slave by ‘‘moderate correction’’! Your laws uniformly declare that ‘‘slave shall be deemed a chattel personal in the hands of his master, to all intents, constrictions, and purposes whatsoever.’’ This, of course, involves the right to sell his children, as if they were pigs; also, to take his wife from him ‘‘for any intent or purpose whatsoever.’’ Your laws also make it death for him to resist a white man, however brutally he may be treated, or however much his family may be outraged before his eyes. If he attempts to run away, your laws allow any man to shoot him. By your laws, all a slave’s earnings belong to his master. He can neither receive donations or transmit property. If his master allows him some hours to work for himself, and by great energy and perseverance he earns enough to buy his own bones and sinews, his master may make him pay two or three times over, and he has no redress. Three such cases have come within my knowledge. Even a written promise from his master has no legal value, because slave can make no contracts. Your laws also systematically aim at keeping the minds of the colored people in the most abject state of ignorance. If white people attempt to teach them to read or write, they are punished by imprisonment or ﬁnes; if they attempt to teach each other, they are punished with from twenty to thirty-nine lashes each. It cannot be said that the anti-slavery agitation produced such laws, for they date much further back; many of them when we were Provinces. They are the necessities of the system, which, being itself an outrage upon human nature, can be sustained only by perpetual outrages. The next reliable source of information is the advertisements in the Southern papers. In the North Carolina (Raleigh) Standard, Mr. Mieajah Ricks advertises,

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‘‘Runaway, a negro woman and her two children. A few days before went off, I burned her with a hot iron on the left side of her face. I tried to make the letter M.’’ in the Natchez Courier, Mr. J.P. Ashford advertises a runaway negro girl, with ‘‘a good many teeth missing, and the letter A branded on her cheek and forehead.’’ In the Lexington (Ky.) Observer, Mr. William Overstreet advertises a runaway negro with ‘‘his left eye out, scars from a drik on his left arm, and much scarred with the whip.’’ I might quote from hundreds of such advertisements, offering rewards for runaways, ‘‘dead or alive,’’ and describing them with ‘‘cars cut off,’’ ‘‘jaws broken,’’ scarred by riﬂe-balls,’’ &c. Another source of information is afforded by your ‘‘Fugitives from Injustice,’’ with many of whom I have conversed freely. I have seen scars o of the whip and marks of the branding-iron, and I have listened to their heart-breaking sobs, while they told of ‘‘piccaninnies’’ torn from their arms and sold. Another source of information is furnished by emancipated slaveholders Sarah M. Grimke, daughter of the late Judge Grimke, of the Supreme Court of South Carolina, testiﬁes as follows: ‘‘As I left my native State on account of Slavery, and deserted the home of my fathers to escape the sound of the lash and the shrieks of tortured victims, I would gladly bury in oblivion the recollection of those seens with which I have been familiar. But this cannot be. They come over my memory like gory sceptres, and implore me, with resistless power, in the name of a God of mercy, in the name of a cruciﬁed Saviour, in the name of humanity, for the sake of the slaveholder, as well as the slave, to bear witness to the horrors of the Southern prison-house.’’ She proceeds to describe dreadful tragedies, the actors in which she says were ‘‘men and women of the families in South Carolina;’’ and that their cruelties did not, in the slightest degree, affect their standing in society. Her sister, Angelina Grimke, declared: ‘‘While I live, and Slavery lives, I must testify against it. Not merely for the sake of my poor brothers and sisters in bonds; for even were Slavery no curse to its victims, the exercise of arbitrary power works such fearful ruin upon the hearts of slaveholders, that I should feel impelled to labor and pray for its overthrow with my latest breath.’’ Among the horrible barbarities she enumerates is the case of a girl thirteen years old, who was ﬂogged to death by her master. She says: ‘‘I asked a prominent lawyer, who belonged to one of the ﬁrst families in the State, whether the murderer of this helpless child could not be indicted, and he coolly replied that the slave was Mr.—’s property, and if he chose to suffer the loss, no one else had any thing to do with it.’’ She proceeds to say: ‘‘I felt there could be for me no rest in the midst of such outrages and pollutions. Yet I saw nothing of Slavery in its most vulgar and repulsive forms. I saw it in the city, among the fashionable and the honorable, where it was garnished by reﬁnement and decked out for show. It is my deep, solemn, deliberate conviction, but this is a cause worth dying for. I say so from what I have seen, and heard, and known, in a land of Slavery, whereon rest the darkness of Egypt and the sin of Sadom.’’ I once asked Miss Angelina if she thought Abolitionists exaggerated the horrors of Slavery. She replied, with earnest emphasis: ‘‘They cannot be exaggerated. It is impossible for imagination to go beyond the fact.’’ To a lady who observed that the time had not yet come for agitating the subject, she answered: ‘‘I apprehend if thou wert a slave, toiling in the ﬁelds of Carolina, thou wouldst think the time had fully come.’’ Mr. Thome, of Kentucky, in the course of his eloquent lectures on this subject, said: ‘‘I breathed my ﬁrst breath in an atmosphere of Slavery. But though I am heir to a slave inheritance, I am bold to denounce the whole system as an outrage, a

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complication of crimes, and wrongs, and cruelties, that make angels weep.’’ Mr. Allen, of Alabama, in a discussion with the students at Lane Seminary, in 1834, told of a slave who was tied up and beaten all day, with a paddle full of holes. ‘‘At night, his ﬂesh was literally pounded to a jelly. The punishment was inﬂicted within hearing of the Academy and the Public Green. But no one took any notice of it. No one thought any wrong was done. At our house, it is so common to hear screams from a neighboring plantation, that we think nothing of it. Lest any one should think that the slaves are generally well treated, and that the cases I have mentioned are exceptions, let me be distinctly understood that cruelty is the rule, and kindness is the exception.’’ In the same discussion, a student from Virginia, after relating cases of great cruelty, said: ‘‘Such things are common all over Virginia; at least, so far as I am acquainted. But the planters generally avoid punishing their slaves before strangers.’’ Miss Mattie Grifﬁth, of Kentucky, whose entire property consisted in slaves, emancipated them all. The noble-hearted girl wrote to me: ‘‘I shall go forth into the world penniless; but I shall work with a heart, and, best of all, I shall live with an easy consience.’’ Previous to this generous resolution, she had never read any Abolition document, and entertained the common Southern prejudice against them. But her own observation so deeply impressed her with the enormities of Slavery, that she was impelled to publish a book, called ‘‘The Autobiography of a Female Slave.’’ I read it with thrilling interest; but some of the scenes made my nerves quiver so painfully, that told her I hoped they were too highly colored. She shook her head sadly, and replied: ‘‘I am sorry to say that every incident in the book has come within my own knowledge.’’ St. George Tucker, Judge and Professor of Law in Virginia, speaking of the legalized murder of runaways, said: ‘‘Such are the cruelties to which a state of Slavery gives birth—such the horrors to which the human mind is capable of being reconciled by its adoption.’’ Alluding to our struggle in ‘76, he said: ‘‘While we proclaimed our resolution to live free or die, we imposed on our fellow-men, of different complexion, a Slavery ten thousand times worse than the utmost extremity of the oppressions of which we complained.’’ Governor Giles, in a Message to the Legislature of Virginia, referring to the custom of selling free colored people into Slavery, as a punishment for offences not capital, said: ‘‘Slavery must be admitted to be a punishment of the highest order; and, according to the just rule for the apportionment of punishment to crimes, it ought to be applied only to crimes of the highest order. The most distressing reﬂection in the application of this punishment to female offenders, is that it extends to their offspring; and the innocent are thus punished with the guilty.’’ Yet one hundred and twenty thousand innocent babies in this country are annually subjected to a punishment which your Governor declared ‘‘ought to be applied only to crimes of the highest order.’’ Jefferson said: ‘‘One day of American Slavery is worse than a thousand years of that which we rose in arms to oppose.’’ Alluding to insurrections, he said: ‘‘The Almighty has no attribute that can take side with us in such a contest.’’ John Randolph declared: ‘‘Every planter is a sentinel at his own door. Every Southern mother, when she hears an alarm of ﬁre in the night, instinctively presses her infant closer to her bosom.’’ Looking at the system of slavery in the light of all this evidence, do you candidly think we deserve ‘‘two-fold damnation’’ for detesting it? Can you not believe that

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we may hate the system, and yet be truly your friends? I make allowance for the excited state of your mind, and for the prejudices induced by education. I so not care to change your opinion of me; but I so wish you could be persuaded to examine this subject dispassionately, for the sake of the prosperity of Virginia, and the welfare of unborn generations, both white and colored. For thirty years, Abolitionists have been trying to reason with slaveholders, through the press, and in the halls of Congress. Their efforts, though directed to the masters only, have been met with violence and abuse almost equal to that poured on head of John Brown. Yet surely we, as a portion of the Union, involved in the expense, the degeneracy, the danger, and the disgrace, of the inqiuitious and fatal system, have a right to speak about it, and a right to be heard also. At the North, we willingly publish pro-slavery arguments, and ask only a fair ﬁeld and no favor for the other side. But you will not even allow your own citizens a chance to examine this important subject. Your letter to me is published in Northern papers, as well as Southern; my reply will not be allowed to appear in any Southern paper. The despotic measures you take to silence investigation, and shut out the light from your own white population, prove how little reliance you have on the strength of your cause. In this enlightened age, all despotisms ought to come to an end by the agency of moral and rational means. But if they resist such agencies, it is in the order of Providence that they must come to an end by violence. History is full of such lessons. Would that the evil of prejudice could be removed from your eyes. If you would candidly examine the statements of Governor Hincks of the British West Indies, and of the Rev. Mr. Bleby, long time a Missionary in those Islands, both before and after emancipation, you could not fail to be convinced that Cash is a more powerful incentive to labor than the Lash, and far safer also. One fact in relation to those Islands is very signiﬁcant. While the working people were slaves, it was always necessary to order out the military during the Christmas holidays; but since emancipation, not a soldier is to be seen. A hundred John Browns might land there, without exciting the slightest alarm. To the personal questions you ask me, I will reply in the name of all the women of New England. It would be extremely difﬁcult to ﬁnd any woman in our villages who does not sew for the poor, and watch with the sick, whenever occasion requires. We pay our domestic generous wages, with which they can purchase as many Christmas gown as they please; a process far better for their characters, as well as our own, than to receive their clothing as a charity, after being deprived of just payment for their labor. I have never known an instance where the ‘‘pangs of maternity ‘‘ did not meet with requisite assistance; and here at the North, after we have helped the mothers, we do not sell the babies. I readily believe what you state concerning the kindness of many Virginia matrons. It is creditable to their hearts: but after all, the best that can be done in that way is a poor equivalent for the perpetual wrong done to the slaves, and the terrible liabilities to which they are always subject. Kind masters and mistresses among you are merely lucky accidents. If any one chooses to be a brutal despot, your laws and customs give him complete power to do so. And the lot of those slaves who have the kindest masters is exceedingly precarious. In case of death, or pecuniary difﬁculties, or marriages in the family, they may at any time be suddenly transferred from protection and indulgence to personal degradation, or extreme severity; and if they should try to escape from such sufferings, any body is authorized to shoot them down like dogs.

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With regard to your declaration that ‘‘no Southerner ought henceforth to read a line of my composition,’’ I reply that I have great satisfaction in the consciousness of having nothing to loose in that quarter. Twenty-seven years ago, I published a book called ‘‘An Appeal in behalf of that class of Americans called Africans.’’ It inﬂuenced the minds of several young men, afterward conspicuous in public life, through whose agency the cause was better served than it could have been by me. From that time to this, I have labored too earnestly for the slave to be agreeable to slaveholders. Literary popularity was never a paramount object with me, even in my youth; and, now that I am old, I am utterly indifferent to it. But, if I cared for the exclusion you threaten I should at least have the consolation of being exiled with honorable company. Dr. Channing’s writings, mild and candid as they are, breathe what you would call arrant treason. William C. Bryant, in his capacity of editor, is openly on our side. The inspired muse of Whittier has incessantly sounded the trumpet for moral warfare with your iniquitous institution; and his stirring tones have been answered, more or less loudly, by Pierpont, Lowell, and Longfellow. Emerson, the Plato of America, leaves the scholastic seclusion he love so well, and disliking noise with all his poetic soul, bravely takes his stand among the trumpeters. George W. Curtis, the brilliant wealth of his talent on the altar of Freedom, and makes common cause with rough-shod reformers. The genius of Mrs. Stowe carried the outworks of your institution at one dash, and left the citadel open to besiegers, who are pouring in amain. In the church, on the ultra-liberal side, it is assailed by the powerful battering-ram of Theodore Parker’s eloquence. On the extreme orthodox side is set a huge ﬁre, kindled by the burning words of Dr. Cheever. Between them is Henry Ward Beecher, sending a shower of keen arrows into your entrenchments; and with him ride a troop of sharpshooters from all sects. If you turn to the literature of England or France, you will ﬁnd your institution treated with as little favor. The fact is, the whole civilized world proclaims Slavery an outlaw, and the best intellect of the age is active in hunting it down. L. Maria Child THE TOUGHSTONE BY WILLIAM ALL I. GU AMK A man there came, whence none could tell, Bearing a touchstone in his hand, And tested all things in the land By its unerring spell. A thousand transformations rose, From fair to foul, from foul to fair; The golden crown he did not share, Nor scorn the beggar’s clothes. Of heirloom jewels, prized so much, Were many changed to chips and clods, And even statues of the gods Crumbled beneath its touch. Then angrily the people cried,

25. The Constitution of the United States

‘‘The loss outweighs the proﬁt far, Our goods sufﬁce us as they are, We will not have them tried.’’ But since they could not so avail To check his unrelenting quest, They seized him, saying, ‘‘Let him test How real is our jail.’’ But though they slew him with their swords, And in the ﬁre the touchstone burned, Its doings could not be o’erturned, Its undoings restored. And when, to stop all future harm, They strewed his ashes to the breeze, They little guessed each grain of these Conveyed the perfect charm. Source: New York: American Anti-slavery Society, 1860. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A. P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

25. The Constitution of the United States: Is It Pro-Slavery or Anti-Slavery? March 26, 1860 FREDERICK DOUGLASS This is an excerpt of a speech given by Frederick Douglass in Glasgow, Scotland on the issue of slavery. Douglass addressed whether or not the Constitution of the United States was pro- or anti-slavery. He delivered this speech in the winter of 1860, ﬁve years before the Civil War ended the debate. The Constitution of the United States: Is It Pro-Slavery or Anti-Slavery? I proceed to the discussion. And ﬁrst a word about the question. Much will be gained at the outset if we fully and clearly understand the real question … Indeed, nothing is or can be understood. This are often confounded and treated as the same, for no better reason than that they resemble each other, even while they are in their nature and character totally distinct and even directly opposed to each other. This jumbling up of things is a sort of dust-throwing which is often indulged in by small men who argue for victory rather than for truth. Signed: Frederick Douglass THE GLASGOW SPEECH The American Government and the American Constitution are spoken of in a manner which would naturally lead the hearer to believe that one is identical with the other; when the truth is, they are distinct in character as is a ship and a compass. The one may point right and the other steer wrong. A chart is one thing, the course of the vessel is another. The Constitution may be right, the Government is wrong. If the Government has been governed by mean, sordid, and wicked passions, it does not follow that the Constitution is mean, sordid, and wicked.

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What, then, is the question? I will state it. It is not whether slavery existed in the United States at the time of the adoption of the Constitution; it is not whether slaveholders took part in the framing of the Constitution; it is not whether those slaveholders, in their hearts, intended to secure certain advantages in that instrument for slavery; it is not whether the American Government has been wielded during seventy-two years in favour of the propagation and permanence of slavery; it is not whether a pro-slavery interpretation has been put upon the Constitution by the American Courts—all these points may be true or they may be false, they may be accepted or they may be rejected, without in any wise affecting the real question in debate. The real and exact question between myself and the class of persons represented by the speech at the City Hall may be fairly stated thus: ¥ 1st, Does the United States Constitution guarantee to any class or description of people in that country the right to enslave, or hold as property, any other class or description of people in that country? ¥ 2nd, Is the dissolution of the union between the slave and free States required by ﬁdelity to the slaves, or by the just demands of conscience? Or, in other words, is the refusal to exercise the elective franchise, and to hold ofﬁce in America, the surest, wisest, and best way to abolish slavery in America?

To these questions the Garrisonians say Yes. They hold the Constitution to be a slaveholding instrument, and will not cast a vote or hold ofﬁce, and denounce all who vote or hold ofﬁce, no matter how faithfully such persons labour to promote the abolition of slavery. I, on the other hand, deny that the Constitution guarantees the right to hold property in man, and believe that the way to abolish slavery in America is to vote such men into power as well as use their powers for the abolition of slavery. This is the issue plainly stated … [A] very eloquent lecturer at the City Hall doubtless felt some embarrassment from the fact that he had literally to give the Constitution a pro-slavery interpretation; because upon its face it of itself conveys no such meaning, but a very opposite meaning. He thus sums up what he calls the slaveholding provisions of the Constitution. I quote his own words: —‘‘Article 1, section 9, provides for the continuance of the African slave trade for the 20 years, after the adoption of the Constitution. Art. 4, section 9, provides for the recovery from the other States of fugitive slaves. Art. 1, section 2, gives the slave States a representation of the three-ﬁfths of all the slave population; Art. 1, section 8, requires the President to use the military, naval, ordnance, and militia resources of the entire country for the suppression of slave insurrection, in the same manner as he would employ them to repel invasion.’’ Now any man reading this statement, or hearing it made with such a show of exactness, would unquestionably suppose that he speaker or writer had given the plain written text of the Constitution itself. I can hardly believe that the intended to make any such impression. It would be a scandalous imputation to say he did. Any yet what are we to make of it? How can we regard it? How can he be screened

25. The Constitution of the United States

from the charge of having perpetrated a deliberate and point-blank misrepresentation? That individual has seen ﬁt to place himself before the public as my opponent, and yet I would gladly ﬁnd some excuse for him. I do not wish to think as badly of him as this trick of his would naturally lead me to think. Why did he not read the Constitution? Why did he read that which was not the Constitution? He pretended to be giving chapter and verse, section and clause, paragraph and provision. The words of the Constitution were before him. Why then did he not give you the plain words of the Constitution? Oh, sir, I fear that the gentleman knows too well why he did not. It so happens that no such words as ‘‘African slave trade,’’ no such words as ‘‘slave insurrections,’’ are anywhere used in that instrument. These are the words of that orator, and not the words of the Constitution of the United States. Now you shall see a slight difference between my manner of treating this subject and what which my opponent has seen ﬁt, for reasons satisfactory to himself, to pursue. What he withheld, that I will spread before you: what he suppressed, I will bring to light: and what he passed over in silence, I will proclaim: that you may have the whole case before you, and not be left to depend upon either his, or upon my inferences or testimony. Here then are several provisions of the Constitution to which reference has been made. I read them word for word just as they stand in the paper, called the United States Constitution. Art. I, sec. 2. ‘‘Representatives and direct taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which may be included in this Union, according to their respective numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole number of free persons, including those bound to service for a term years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three-ﬁfths of all other persons; Art. I, sec. 9. The migration or importation of such persons as any of the States now existing shall think ﬁt to admit, shall not be prohibited by the Congress prior to the year one thousand eight hundred and eight, but a tax or duty may be imposed on such importation, not exceeding ten dollars for each person; Art. 4, sec. 2. No person held to service or labour in one State, under the laws thereof, escaping into another shall, in consequence of any law or regulation therein, be discharged from service or labour; but shall be delivered up on claim of the party to whom such service or labour may be due; Art. I, sec. 8. To provide for calling for the militia to execute the laws of the Union, suppress insurrections, and repel invasions.’’ Here then, are those provisions of the Constitution, which the most extravagant defenders of slavery can claim to guarantee a right of property in man. These are the provisions which have been pressed into the service of the human ﬂeshmongers of America. Let us look at them just as they stand, one by one. Let us grant, for the sake of the argument, that the ﬁrst of these provisions, referring to the basis of representation and taxation, does refer to slaves. We are not compelled to make that admission, for it might fairly apply to aliens—persons living in the country, but not naturalized. But giving the provisions the very worse construction, what does it amount to? I answer—It is a downright disability laid upon the slaveholding States; one which deprives those States of two-ﬁfths of their natural basis of representation. A black man in a free State is worth just two-ﬁfths more than a black man in a slave State, as a basis of political power under the Constitution.

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Therefore, instead of encouraging slavery, the Constitution encourages freedom by giving an increase of ‘‘two-ﬁfths’’ of political power to free over slave States. So much for the three-ﬁfths clause; taking it at is worst, it still leans to freedom, not slavery; for, be it remembered that the Constitution nowhere forbids a coloured man to vote. … Men at that time, both in England and in America, looked upon the (international) slave trade as the life of slavery. The abolition of the slave trade (directly from Africa to the Americas) was supposed to be the certain death of slavery. Cut off the stream, and the pond will dry up, was the common notion at the time. Wilberforce and Clarkson, clear-sighted as they were, took this view; and the American statesmen, in providing for the abolition of the slave trade, thought they were providing for the abolition of slavery. This view is quite consistent with the history of the times. All regarded slavery as an expiring and doomed system, destined to speedily disappear from the country. But, again, it should be remembered that this very provision, if made to refer to the African slave trade at all, makes the Constitution anti-slavery rather than for slavery; for it says to the slave States, the price you will have to pay for coming into the American Union is, that the slave trade, which you would carry on indeﬁnitely out of the Union, shall be put an end to in twenty years if you come into the Union. Secondly, if it does apply, it expired by its own limitation more than ﬁfty years ago. Thirdly, it is anti-slavery, because it looked to the abolition of slavery rather than to its perpetuity. Fourthly, it showed that the intentions of the framers of the Constitution were good, not bad. I think this is quite enough for this point. Source: A Speech Delivered in Glasgow, Scotland. March 26, 1860. TeachingAmericanHistory.org C 2006 Ashbrook Center for Public Affairs.

26. History of American abolitionism: its four great epochs, embracing narratives of the ordinance of 1787, compromise of 1820, annexation of Texas, Mexican war, Wilmot proviso, negro insurrections, abolition riots, slave rescues, compromise of 1850, Kansas bill of 1854, John Brown insurrection, 1859, valuable statistics, &c., &c., &c., together with a history of the southern confederacy, 1861 F. G. DE FONTAINE In this critique of American abolitionism after 1787, F. G. De Fontaine focuses on the negative impact of the movement on the South and slavery. He blames fanatic abolitionists for causing dissolution of the Union and for spoiling chances for gradual emancipation in the South. In addition, he gives basic facts and ﬁgures on the initial six states of the southern confederacy, including biographies of Jefferson Davis and Alexander Stevens, and the slave and free populations of these states.

26. History of American abolitionism

INTRODUCTION The following pages originally appeared in the New York Herald, of February 2d, 1861. By request, they have been reproduced in their present shape, with the view of preserving, in a form more compact than that of a newspaper, the valuable facts embraced. Without an extensive range of research it is almost impossible to acquire the information which is thus compiled, and, at the present time, especially, it is believed that the publication of these facts will be desirable to the reading community. F.G. DEF. The Spirit of the Age—Two Classes of Abolitionists—Their Objects—The Sources of their Inspiration—Inﬂuences upon Church and State—Proposed Invasions upon the Constitution—Effect upon the Slave States, &c, &c. One of the commanding characteristics of the present age is the spirit of agitation, collision and discord which has broken forth in every department of social and political life. While it has been an era of magniﬁcent enterprises and unrivalled prosperity, it has likewise been an era of convulsion, which has well nigh upturned the foundations of the government. Never was this truth more evident than at the present moment. A single topic occupies the public mind—Union or Disunion— and is one of pre-eminently absorbing interest to every citizen. Upon this issue the entire nation has been involved in a moral distemper, that threatens its utter and irrevocable dissolution. Union—the child of compact, the creature of social and political tolerance—stands face to face with Disunion, the natural offspring of that anti-slavery sentiment, which has ever warred against the interests of the people and the elements of true government, and struggles for the maintenance of that sacred pledge by which the United States have heretofore been bound in a common brotherhood. Like the marvellous tent given by the fairy Ranou to Prince Achmend, which, when folded up, became an ornament in the delicate hands of women, but, spread out, afforded encampment to mighty armies; so as this question of abolitionism, to which the present overwhelming trouble of our land is to be traced, in its capacity to encompass all things, and its ability to attach itself even to the amenities and reﬁnements of life. It has entered into everything, great and small, high and low, political, theological, social and moral, and in one section has become the standard by which all excellence is to be judged. Under the guise of philanthropic reform, it has pursued its course with energy, boldness and unrelenting bitterness, until it has grown from ‘‘a cloud no bigger than a man’s hand’’ into the dimensions of the tempest which is to-day lowering over the land charged with the elements of destruction. Commencing with a pretended love for the black race, it has arrived at stage of restless, uncompromising fanaticism which will be satisﬁed with nothing short of the consummation of its wildest hopes. It has become the grand question of the day—of politics, of ethnics, of expediency, of justice, of conscience, and of law, covering the whole ﬁeld of human society and divine government. In this view of the subject, and in view also of the surrounding unhappy circumstances of the country which have their origin in this agitation, we give below a history of abolition, from the period it commenced to exist as an active element in the affairs of the nation down to the present moment. There are two classes of persons opposed to the continued existence of slavery in the United States. The ﬁrst are those who are actuated by sentiments of

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philanthropy and humanity, but are at the same time no less opposed to any disturbance of the peace or tranquility of the Union, or to any infringement of the powers of the States composing the confederacy. Among these may be classed the society of ‘‘Friends,’’ one of whose established principles is an abhorrence of war in all its forms, and the cultivation of peace and good will amongst mankind. As far back as 1670, the ancient records of their society refer to the peaceful and exemplary efforts of the sect to prevent the holding of slaves by any of their number; and a quaint incident is related of an eccentric ‘‘Friend,’’ who, at one of their monthly meetings, ‘‘seated himself among the audience with a bladder of bullock’s blood secreted under his mantle, and at length broke the quiet stillness of the worship by rising in full view of the congregation, piercing the bladder, spilling the blood upon the ﬂoor and seats, and exclaiming with all the solemnity of an inspired prophet, ‘thus shall the Lord spill the blood of those that trafﬁc in the blood of their fellow men.’ ’’ The second class are the real ultra abolitionists—the ‘‘reformers’’ who, in the language of Henry Clay, are ‘‘resolved to preserve at all hazards, and without regard to any consequences, however calamitous they may be. With them the rights of property are nothing; the deﬁciency of the powers of the general government is nothing; the acknowledged and incontestible powers of the State are nothing; civil war, a dissolution of the Union, and the overthrow of a government in which are concentrated the fondest hopes of the civilized world, are nothing. They are for the immediate abolition of slavery, the prohibition of the removal of slaves from State to State, and the refusal to admit any new State comprising within its limits the institution of domestic slavery—all these bring but so many means conducive to the accomplishment of the ultimate but perilous end at which they avowedly and boldly aim—so many short stages, as it were, in the long and bloody read to the distant goal at which they would ultimately arrive. Their purpose is abolition, ‘peaceably if it can, forcibly if it must.’ ’’ Utterly destitute of Constitutional or other rightful power; living in totally distinct communities, as alien to the communities in which the subject on which they would operate resides, as far as concerns political power over that subject, as if they lived in Asia or Africa, they nevertheless promulgate to the world their purpose to immediately convert without compensation four millions of proﬁtable and contented slaves into four millions of burdensome and discontended negroes. This idea, which originated and still generally prevails in New England, is the result of that puritanical frenzy which has always characterized that section of the country, and made it the natural breeding ground of the most absurd ‘‘isms’’ ever concocted. The Puritans of today are not less fanatical than were the Puritans of two centuries ago. In fact, they have progressed rather than retrograded. Their god then was the angry, wrathful, jealous god of the Jews—the Supreme Being now is the creation of their own intellects, proportioned in dimensions to the depth and fervor of their individual understandings. Then the Old Testament was their rule of faith. Now neither old nor new, except in so far as it accords with their consciences, is worth the paper upon which it is written. Their creeds are begotten of themselves, and their high priests are those who best represent their peculiar ‘‘notions.’’ The same spirit which, in the days of Robes-pierre and Marat, abolished the Lord’s day and worshipped Reason, in the person of a harlot, yet survives to work other horrors. In this age, however, and in a community like the present, a disguise must be worn; but it is the old threadbare advocacy of human rights, which the enlightenment of

26. History of American abolitionism

the age condemns as impracticable. The decree has gone forth which strikes at God, by striking at all subordination and law, and under the specious cry of reform it is demanded that every pretended evil shall be corrected, or society become a wreck— that the sun must be stricken from the heavens if a spot is found upon his disc. The abolitionist is a practical atheist. In the language of one of their congregational ministers—Rev. Henry Wright of Massachusetts:— ‘‘The God of humanity is not the God of slavery. If so, shame upon such a God. I scorn him. I will never bow to his shrine; my head shall go off with my hat when I take it off to such a God as that. If the Bible sanctions slavery, the Bible is a selfevident falsehood. And, if God should declare it to be right, I would fasten the chain upon the heel of such a God, and let the man go free. Such a God is a phantom.’’ The religion of the people of New England is a peculiar morality, around which the minor matters of society arrange themselves like ferruginous particles around a loadstone. All the elements obey this general law. Accustomed to doing as it pleases, New England ‘‘morality’’ has usually accomplished what it has undertaken. It has attacked the Sunday mails, assaulted Free Masonry, triumphed over the intemperate use of ardent spirits, and ﬁnally engaged in an onslaught upon the slavery of the South. Its channels have been societies, meetings, papers, lectures, sermons, resolutions, memorials, protests, legislation, private discussion, public addresses; in a word, every conceivable method whereby appeal may be brought to mind. Its spirit has been agitation!—and its language, fruits and measures have partaken throughout of a character that is thoroughly warlike. ‘‘In language no element ever ﬂung out more deﬁance of authority, contempt of religion, of authority to man. As to agency, no element on earth has broken up more friendships and families societies and parties, churches and denominations, or ruptured more organizations, political, social or domestic. And as to measures! What spirit of man ever stood upon earth with bolder front and wielded ﬁercer weapons? Stirring harangues! Stern resolutions! Fretful memorials! Angry protests! Incendiary pamphlets at the South! Hostile legislation at the North! Underground railroads at the West! Resistance to the Constitution! Division of the Union! Military contribution! Sharpe’s riﬂe! Higher law! If this is not belligerence ongoing, Mohammed’s work and the old Crusades were an appeal to argument and not to arms.’’ What was philanthropy in our forefathers has become misanthropy in their descendants, and compassion for the slave has given way to malignity against the master. Consequences are nothing. The one idea preeminent above all others is abolition! It is worthy of notice in this connection that most abolitionists know little or nothing of slavery and slaveholders beyond what they have learned from excited, caressed and tempted fugitives, or from a superﬁcial, accidental or prejudiced observation. From distorted facts, gross misrepresentations, and frequently malicious caricatures, they have come to regard Southern slaveholders as the most unprincipled men in the Universe, with no incentive but avarice, no feeling but selﬁshness, and no sentiment but cruelty. Their information is acquired from discharged seamen, runaway slaves, agents who have been tarred and feathered, factious politicians, and scurrilous tourists; and no matter how exaggerated may be the facts, they never fail to ﬁnd willing believers among this class of people.

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In the Church, the missionary spirit with which the men of other times and nobler hearts intended to embrace all, both bond and free, has been crushed out. New methods of Scriptural interpretation have been discovered, under which the Bible brings to light things of which Jesus Christ and his disciples had no conception. Assemblings for divine worship have been converted into occasions for the secret dissemination of incendiary doctrines, and thus a common suspicion has been generated of all Northern agency in the diffusion of religious instruction among the slaves. Of the ﬁve broad beautiful bands of Christianity thrown around the North and the South—Presbyterian, old school and new, Episcopalian, Methodist and Baptist, to say nothing of the divisions of Bible, tract and missionary societies—three are already ruptured—and whenever an anniversary brings together the various delegates of these organizations, the sad spectacle is presented of division, wrangling, vituperation and reproach, that gives to religion and its professors anything but that meekness of spirit with which it is wont to be invested. Politically, the course of abolition has been one of constant aggression upon the South. At the time of the Old Confederation, the amount of territory owned by the Southern States was 647,202 square miles; and the amount owned, by the Northern States, 164,081. In 1783, Virginia ceded to the United States, for the common beneﬁt, all her immense territory northwest of the river Ohio. In 1787, the Northern States appropriated it to their own exclusive use by passing the celebrated ordinance of that year, whereby Virginia and all her sister States were excluded from the beneﬁts of the territory. This was the ﬁrst in the series of aggressions. Again, in april, 1803, the United States purchased from France, for ﬁfteen millions of dollars, the territory of Louisiana, comprising an area of 1,189,112 square miles, the whole of which was slaveholding territory. In 1821, by the passage of the Missouri Compromise, 964,667 square miles of this was converted into free territory. Again, by the treaty with Spain, of February 1819, the United States gained the territory from which the present State of Florida was formed, with an area of 59,268 square miles, and also the Spanish title of Oregon, from which they acquired an area of 341,463 square miles. Of this cession, Florida only has been allowed to the Southern States, while the balance—nearly six-sevenths of the whole—was appropriated by the North. Again, by the Mexican cession, was acquired 526,078 square miles, which the North attempted to appropriate under the pretense of the Mexican laws, but which was prevented by the measures of the Compromise of 1850. Of slave territory cut off from Texas, there have been 44,662 square miles. To sum this up, the total amount of territory acquired under the Constitution has been, by the square Northwest cession Louisiana cession Florida and Oregon cession Mexican cession Total

286,081 1,189,112 400,731 526,078 2,377,602

miles do do do do

Of all this territory the Southern States have been permitted to enjoy only 283,713 square miles, while the Northern States have been allowed 2,083,889

26. History of American abolitionism

square miles, or between seven and eight times more than has been allowed to the South. The following are some of the invasions that have been from time to time proposed upon the Constitution in the halls of Congress by these agitators: 1. That the clause allowing the representation of three-ﬁfths of the slaves shall be obliterated from the Constitution; or, in other words, that the South, already in a vast and increasing minority, shall be still further reduced in the seal of insigniﬁcance, and thus, on every attempted usurpation of her rights, be far below the protection of even a Presidential veto. Next has been demanded the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia in the forts, arsenals, navy yards and other public establishments of the United States. What object have the abolitionists had for raising all this clamor about a little patch of soil ten miles square, and a few inconsiderable places thinly scattered over the land—a mere grain of sand upon the beach—unless it be to establish the precedent of Congressional interference, which would enable them to make a wholesale incursion upon the constitutional rights of the South, and to drain from the vast ocean of alleged national guilt its last drop? Does any one suppose that a mere microscopic concession like this would alone appease a conscience wounded and lacerated by the ‘‘sin of slavery?’’ Another of these aggressions is that which was proposed under the pretext of regulating commerce between the States—namely, that no slave, for any purpose and under any circumstances whatever, shall be carried by his lawful owner from one slaveholding State to another; or, in other words, that where slavery now is there it shall remain forever, until by its own increase the slave population shall outnumber the white race, and thus by a united combination of causes—the fears of the master, the diminution in value of his property and the exhausted condition of the soil—the ﬁnal purposes of fanaticism may be accomplished. Still another in the series of aggressions was that attempted by the Wilmot Proviso, by which Congress was called upon to prohibit every slaveholder from removing with his slaves into the territory acquired from Mexico—a territory as large as the old thirteen States originally composing the Union. It appears to have been forgotten that whether slavery be admitted upon one foot of territory or not, it cannot alter the question of its sinfulness in the slightest degree, and that if every nook and corner of the national fabric were open to the institution, not a single slave would be added to the present number, or that, if excluded, their number would not be a single one the less. We might also refer to the armed and bloody opposition to the Fugitive Slave Law, to the passage of Personal Liberty Bills, to political schemes in Congress and out, and to systematic agitation everywhere, with a view to stay the progress of the South, contract her political power, and eventually lead, at her expense, if not of the Union itself, to the utter expurgation of his ‘‘tremendous national sin.’’ In short, the abolitionists have contributed nothing to the welfare of the slave or of the South. While over one hundred and ﬁfty millions have been expended by slaveholders in emancipation, except in those sporadic cases where the amount was capital invested in self-gloriﬁcation, the abolitionists have not expended one cent. More than this: They have defeated the very objects at which they have aimed. When Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky, or some other border State has come so near to the passage of gradual emancipation laws that the hopes of the real friends of the movement seemed about to be realized, abolitionism has stepped in, and, with

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frantic appeals to the passions of the negroes, through incendiary publications, dashed them to the ground, tightening the fetters of the slave, sharpening authority, and producing a reaction throughout the entire community that has crushed out every incipient thought of future manumission. Such have been the obvious fruits of abolition. Church, state and society! Nothing has escaped it. Nowhere pure, nor peaceable, nor gentle, nor easily entreated, nor full of mercy and good fruits; but everywhere forward, scowling, noncompromising, and ﬁerce, breaking peace, order and structure at every step, crushing with its foot what would not bow to its will; defying government, despising the Church, dividing the country, and striking Heaven itself if it dated to obstruct its progress; purifying, pacifying, promising nothing, but marking its entire pathway by disquiet, schism and ruin. We come now to the train of historical facts upon which we rely in proof of the foregoing assertions. The Ordinance of 1787—The Slave Population of 1790—Abolitionism at that time—The Importation of Slaves the Work of Northerners—Statistics of the Port of Charleston, S.C., from 1804 to 1808—Anecdote of a Rhode Island Senator, &c, &c The ﬁrst great epoch in the history of our country at which the spirit of abolitionism displayed itself was immediately preceding the formation of the present government. From the close of the Revolutionary War, in 1783, to the sitting of the Constitutional Convention, was a space of only four years. Two years more brings us to the adoption of the Constitution, in 1789. It was in the summer of 1787, and at the very time the Convention in Philadelphia was framing that instrument, that the Congress in New York was framing the ordinance which was passed on the 13th of July, 1787, by which slavery was forever excluded from all the territory northwest of the river Ohio, which, three years before, had been generously ceded to the United States by Virginia, and out of which have since been organised the States of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota and Iowa. According to the ﬁrst census, taken in 1790, under the Constitution, when every State in the Union, with one exception, was a slave State, the number of slaves was as follows:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

STATES Massachusetts New Hampshire Rhode Island Connecticut New York New Jersey Pennsylvania Delaware Maryland Virginia North Carolina South Carolina Georgia Territory of Ohio Total

NO. OF SLAVES 158 948 2,764 21,340 11,423 3,737 8,887 103,036 305,057 100,571 107,094 29,264 3,417 697,696

26. History of American abolitionism

In 1820, New York had 10,088 slaves. In 1827, however, by virtue of an Act, passed in 1817, they were declared free, and emancipated, without compensation to their owners. Even in 1830, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New Jersey and Pennsylvania had slaves: New Jersey containing 2,254. Since 1790, the increase of slaves has been at the rate of thirty per cent each decade. At this period numerous emancipation societies were formed, comprised principally of the Society of Friends, and petitions were presented to Congress, praying for the abolition of slavery. These were received with but little comment, referred, and reported upon by a committee. The reports stated that the general government had no power to abolish slavery as it existed in the several States, and that the States themselves had exclusive jurisdiction over the subject. This sentiment was generally acquiesced in, and satisfaction and tranquillity ensued, the abolition societies thereafter limiting their exertions, in respect to the black population, to ofﬁces of humanity within the scope of existing laws. In fact, if we carry ourselves by historical research back to that day, and ascertain men’s opinions by authentic records still existing among us, it will be found that there was no great diversity of opinion between the North and the South upon the subject of slavery. The great ground of objection to it then was political; that it weakened the social fabric; that, taking the place of free labor, society was less strong and labor less productive; and both sections, with an exhibition of no little acerbity of temper and violence of language, ascribed the evil to the injurious and aggrandizing policy of Great Britain, by whom it was ﬁrst entailed upon the Colonies. The terms of reprobation were then more severe in the South than the North. It is a notorious fact that some of our Northern forefathers were then the most aggravated slave dealers. They transported the miserable captives from Africa, sold them at the South, and were well paid for their work; and, when emancipation laws forbade the prolongation of slavery at the North, there are living witnesses who saw the crowds of negroes assembled along the shores of the New England and the Middle States to be shipped to latitudes where their bondage would be perpetual. Their posterity toil today in the ﬁelds of the Southern planter. It is a remarkable fact, also, that of the slaves imported into the United States during a period of eighteen years, from 1790 to 1808, not less than ninetenths were imported for and by account of citizens of the Northern States and subjects of Great Britain—imported in Northern and British vessels, by Northern and British men, and delivered to Northern born and British born consignees. The trade was thus carried on, with all its historic inhumanity, by the sires and grand sires of the very men and women, who, for thirty years, have been denouncing slavery as a sin against God, and slaveholders as the vilest class of men and tyrants who ever disgraced a civilized community; and the very wealth in which, in a large degree, these agitators now revel, has descended to them as the fruit of the slave trade in which their fathers grew fat. The following statistics of the port of Charleston, S.C., from the year 1804 to 1808, will more plainly illustrate this remark:—

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Imported into Charleston from Jan. 1, 1804, to Jan. 1, 1808 slaves 29,075 BY BY BY BY BY BY BY BY BY BY BY BY BY BY

British subjects French subjects Foreigners in Charleston Rhode Islanders Bostonians Philadelphians Hartford, citizens of Charlestonians Baltimoreans Savannah, citizens of Norfolk, citizens of Naw Orleans, citizens of 100 British, French and Northpeople Southern people 3,543

19,649 1,078 5,107 8,238 200 200 250 2,006 750 300 387 39,075 35,532 39,075

CONSIGNEES OF THESE SLAVES Natives Natives Natives Natives Total

of of of of

Charleston Rhode Island Great Britain France

13 88 91 10 202

It is related, that during the debate on the Missouri question, a Senator from South Carolina introduced in the Senate of the United States a document from the Custom House of Charleston, exhibiting the names and owners of vessels engaged in the African slave trade. In reading the document the name of De Wolfe was repeatedly called. De Wolfe, who was the Senator elect from Rhode Island, was present, but had not been qualiﬁed. The Caroline Senator was called to order. ‘‘Order!’’ ‘‘Order!’’ echoed through the Senate Chamber. ‘‘It is contrary to order to call the name of a Senator,’’ said a distinguished gentleman. The Senator contended he was not out of order, for the Senator from Rhode Island had not been qualiﬁed, and consequently was not entitled to a seat. He appealed to the Chair. The Chair replied, ‘‘You are correct, sir; proceed,’’ and proceed he did, calling the name of De Wolfe so often, that before he had ﬁnished the document, he had proved the honorable gentleman the importer of three-fourths of the ‘‘poor Africans’’ brought to the Charleston market, and the Rhode Island abolitionist bolted, amid the sympathies of his comrades and the sneers of the auditors. Such was the aspect of affairs with reference to this question at the time of the adoption of the Constitution. The spirit of affection created and fostered by the revolution—the cords binding together a common country in a common struggle and a common destiny—were too strong in the breasts of our revolutionary fathers for them to countenance the feeble efforts even of these prompted by motives of

26. History of American abolitionism

humanity for the immediate emancipation of the slaves, and by almost the entire North of that period they were regarded with general disfavor, as an unwarrantable interference with an already established institution of the country. The consequence was that they sank into disrepute, and the country was blessed with and prospered under their comparative cessation for a number of years. This hostile feeling long lay dormant, and it was not until the year 1818, when Missouri applied for admission into the Union as a State, that the period of quiet was interrupted, and the little streams of abolitionism that had been quietly forming, merged into the foul and noisome current which is now devastating the land, has undermined and destroyed the Union, and is exerting its blighting inﬂuence upon every department of the political and social fabric. History of the Missouri Compromise, 1820—Benjamin Lundy and the ‘‘Genius of Universal Emancipation’’—Resurrection at Charleston, S.C. —The result of agitation in Congress—British Inﬂuence and Interference—Abolition in the East and West Indies—Remarkable opinion of Sir Robert Peel—Letter from Lord Brougham on the Harper’s Ferry Insurrection. Probably there has never been in the history of the United States, except at the present time, a more critical moment, arising from the violence of domestic excitement, than the agitation of the Missouri question from 1818 to 1821. On the 18th day of December, 1818, the Speaker of the House of Representatives of the United States presented before that body a memorial of the Legislature of the Territory of Missouri, praying that they might be admitted to form a Constitution and State government upon ‘‘an equal footing with the original States.’’ Here originated the difﬁculty. Slavery existed in the Territory proposed to be erected into an independent State. The proposition was therefore to admit Missouri as a slave State, which involved three very essential and important features. These were:— 1. The recognition of slavery therein as a State Institution by the national sovereignty. 2. The guarantee of protection to the ownership of her slave property by the laws of the United States, as in the original States under the Constitution. 3. That the right of representation in the National Legislature should be apportioned on her slave population, as in the original Sates. This was a recognition of slavery, which at once aroused the interest of the people in every section of the Union.

The petition was received, read and reported upon, and in February, 1819, Mr. Tallmadge, of New York, proposed an amendment ‘‘prohibiting slavery except for the punishment of crimes, and that all children born in the said State after the admission thereof into the Union, shall be free at the age of twenty-ﬁve years.’’ This passed the House, but was lost in the Senate. The excitement, not only in Congress, but throughout the Union, soon became intense, and for eighteen months the country was agitated from one extreme to the other. In many of the Northern States meetings were called, resolutions were passed instructing members how to vote, prayers ascended from the churches, and the pulpit began to be the medium of the incendiary diatribes for which it has since become so famous. In both branches of Congress amendments were passed and rejected without number, while the arguments on both sides brought out the strongest views of the respective champions. On one hand it was maintained that the compromise of the federal constitution regarding slavery respected only its existing limits at the time; that it was remote

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from the views of the framers of the Constitution to have the domain of slavery extended on that basis; that the fundamental principles of the American Revolution and of the government; and institutions erected upon it were hostile to slavery; that the compromise of the Constitution was simply a toleration of things that were, and not a basis of things that were to be; that these securities of slavery, as it existed, would be forfeited by an extension of the system; that the honor of the republic before the world, and its moral inﬂuence with mankind in favor of freedom, were identiﬁed with the advocacy of principles of universal emancipation; that the act of 1787, which established the Territorial government north and west of the river Ohio, prohibiting slavery forever therefrom, was a public recognition and avowal of the principles and designs of the people of the United States in regard to new States and Territories north and west; and that the proposal to establish slavery in Missouri was a violation of all these great and fundamental principles. On the other hand, it was urged that slavery was incorporated in the system of society as established in Louisiana, which comprehended the Territory of Missouri, when purchased from France in 1803; that the faith of the United States was pledged by treaty to all the inhabitants of that wide domain to maintain their rights and privileges on the same footing with the people of the rest of the country; and consequently, that slavery, being a part of their state of society, it would be a violation of engagements to abolish it without their consent. Nor could the government, as they maintained, prescribe the abolition of slavery to any part of said Territory as a condition of being erected into a State, if they were otherwise entitled to it. It might as well, as they said, be required of them to abolish any other municipal regulation, or to annihilate any other attribute of sovereignty. If the government had made an ill-advised treaty in the purchase of Louisiana, they maintained it would be manifest injustice to make its citizens suffer on that account. They claimed that they received as a slaveholding community on the same footing with the slave States, and that the existence or non-existence of slavery could not be made a question when they presented themselves at the door of the Capitol of the republic for a State charter. After much bitter and acrimonious discussion, the question was ﬁnally, through the exertions of Henry Clay, settled by a compromise, and a bill was passed for the admission of Missouri without any restriction as to slavery, but prohibiting it throughout the United States north of latitude thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes. Missouri was not declared independent until August 1821. Previous to passage of the bill for its admission, the people had formed a State constitution, a provision of which required the Legislature to pass a law ‘‘To prevent free negroes from coming to and settling in the State.’’ When the constitution was presented to Congress, this provision was strenuously opposed. The contest occupied a greater part of the session; but Missouri was ﬁnally admitted on condition that no laws should be passed by which any free citizen of the United States should be prevented from enjoying those rights within the State to which he was entitled by the Constitution of the United States. Such was the Missouri Compromise, and though its settlement once more brought repose to the country and strengthened the bonds of fraternity and union between the States, its agitation in Congress was like the opening of a foul ulcer—the beginning of that domineering, impertinent, ill-timed, vociferous and vituperative opposition which has ever since been the leading characteristic of the abolition movement.

26. History of American abolitionism

The ‘‘settlement’’ of the question in Congress seemed to be merely the signal for its agitation among the non-slaveholding States. Fanatics sprang up like mushrooms, and, ‘‘in the name of God,’’ proclaimed the enormity of slavery and eternal damnation to all who indulged in the wicked luxury. Among the earliest and most notable of these philanthropic reformers was one Benjamin Lundy, who, in the year 1821, commenced the publication of a monthly periodical called the ‘‘Genius of Universal Emancipation,’’ which was successively published at Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington City, and frequently en route during his travels wherever he could ﬁnd a press. It is related of him that at one time he traversed the free States lecturing, collecting, obtaining subscribers, stirring up the people, writing for his paper, getting it printed where he could, stopping to read the ‘‘proof’’ on the road, and directing and mailing his papers at the nearest post ofﬁce. Then, packing up in his trunk his column-rules, type, ‘‘Heading’’ and ‘‘direction book,’’ he pushed along like a thorough-going pioneer. What this solitary ‘‘Friend’’—for such he was—in this manner accomplished, he himself states in an appeal to the public in 1830. He says:— ‘‘I have within the period above mentioned (ten years) sacriﬁced several thousands of dollars of my own hard earnings; I have travelled upwards of ﬁve thousand miles on foot and more than twenty thousand in other ways; have visited nineteen States of this Union, and held more than two hundred public meetings—have performed two voyages to the West Indies, by which means the emancipation of a considerable number of slaves has been effected, and I hope the way paved for the enfranchisement of many more.’’ The year 1822 was marked by one of the most nefarious negro plots ever developed in the history of the country. The ﬁrst revelation was made to the Mayor of the city of Charleston on the 30th of May, 1822, by a gentleman who had on the morning of the same day returned from the country, and obtained on his arrival an inkling of what was going on from a conﬁdential slave, to whom the secret had been imparted. Investigations were immediately set on foot, and one of the slaves who was apprehended, fearing a summary execution, confessed all he knew. He said he had known of the plot for some time; that it was very extensive, embracing an indiscriminate massacre of the whites, and that the blacks were to be headed by an individual who carried about him a charm which rendered him invulnerable. The period ﬁxed for the rising was on Sunday, the 16th of June, at twelve o’clock at night. Through the instrumentality of a colored class-leader in one of the churches, this information was corroborated, and it was ascertained that enlistment for the insurrection was being actively carried on in the colored community of the church. It appeared that three months before that time, a slave named Rolla, belonging to Governor Bennett, had communicated intelligence of the intended rising, saying that when this event occurred they would be aided in obtaining their liberty by people from St. Domingo and Africa, and that if they would make the ﬁrst movement at the time above named, a force would cross from James Island and land at South Bay, march up and seize the arsenal and guardhouse; that another body would at the same time seize the arsenal on the Neck, and a third would rendez-vous in the vicinity of his master’s mill. They would then sweep the town with ﬁre and sword, not permitting a single white soul to escape. Startled by this terrible intelligence, the military were immediately ordered out and preparations made to suppress the ﬁrst signs of an outbreak. Finding the city

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encompassed with patrols and a strict watch kept upon every movement, the negroes feared to carry out their designs, and when the period had passed for the explosion of the plot, the authorities proceeded with vigor to arrest all against whom they possessed information. The ﬁrst prisoner tried was Rolla, a commander of one of the contemplated forces. On being asked whether he intended to kill the woman and children, he remarked, ‘‘When we have done with the men we know what to do with the women.’’ On this testimony he was found guilty, and sentenced to be executed on the 2d of July. Another was Denmark Vesey, the father of the plot, and a free black man. It was proved that he had spoken of this conspiracy upwards of four years previously. His house was the rendezvous of the conspirators, where he always presided, encouraging the timid by the hopes of success, removing the scruples of the religious by the grossest perversion of Scripture, and inﬂuencing the bold by all the savage fascinations of blood, beauty and body. It was afterwards proved, though not on his trial, that he had been carrying on a correspondence with certain persons in St. Domingo—the massacre and rebellion in that island having suggested to him the conspiracy in which he embarked at Charleston. His design was to set the mills on ﬁre, and as soon as the bells began to ring the alarm, to kill every man as he came out of his door, and afterwards murder the women and children, ‘‘for so God had commanded in the Scriptures.’’ At the same time, the country negroes were to rise in arms, attack the forts, take the ships, kill every man on board except the captains, rob the banks and stores, and then sail for St. Domingo. English and French assistance was also expected. Six thousand were ascertained to have been enlisted in the enterprise, their names being enrolled on the books of ‘‘The Society,’’ as the organization was called. When the ﬁrst rising failed, the leaders, who still escaped arrest, meditated a second one, but found the blacks cowed by the execution of their associates and by the vigilance of the whites. The leaders waited, they said, ‘‘for the head man, who was a white man,’’ but they would not reveal his name. The whole number of persons executed was thirty-ﬁve; sentenced to transportation, twenty-one; the whole number arrested, one hundred and thirty-one. Among the conspirators brought to trial and conviction, the cases of Glen, Billy Palmer and Jack Purcell were distinguished for the sanctimonious hypocrisy they blended with their crime. Glen was a preacher, Palmer exceedingly pious, and Purcell no less devout. The latter made the following important confession:— ‘‘If it had not been for the cunning of that old villain Vesey I should not now be in my present situation. He employed every stratagem to induce me to join him. He was in the habit of reading to me all the passages in the newspapers that related to St. Domingo, and apparently every pamphlet he could lay his hands on that had any connection with slavery. He one day brought in a speech which he told me had been delivered in Congress by a Mr. King on the subject of slavery. He told me this Mr. King was the black man’s friend; that he (Mr. King) had declared he would continue to speak, write and publish pamphlets against slavery to the latest day he lived, until the Southern States consented to emancipate their slaves, for slavery was a great disgrace to the country.’’ The Mr. King here spoken of was Rufus King, Senator from New York. This confession shows that the evil which was foretold would arise from the discussion of the Missouri question had been in some degree realized in the course of two or three years. Religious fanaticism also had its share in the conspiracy at Charleston, as well as politics. The secession of a large body of blacks from the white Methodist church

26. History of American abolitionism

formed a hot-bed, in which the germ of insurrection was nursed into life. A majority of the conspirators belonged to the ‘‘African church,’’ an appellation which the seceders assumed after leaving the white Methodist church, and among those executed were several who had been class- leaders. Thus was religion made a cloak for the most diabolical crimes on record. It is the same at this day. The tirades of the North are calculated to drive the negro population of the South to bloody massacres and insurrections. During all this time, British abolition sentiments and designs were industriously infused into the minds of the people of the North. Looking over their own homeless, unfed, ragged millions, their ﬁlthy hovels and mud ﬂoors, worse than the common abode of pigs and poultry, crowded cellars, hungry paupers, children at work under ground—a community of wretchedness such as the American slave never dreamed of—British philanthropists wrote, declaimed, and expended untold sums upon a supposed abuse three thousand miles off, with which they have no connection, civil, social or political, and of which they know comparatively nothing. They passed their fellow subjects by who were dying of hunger upon their very door sills, to make long prayers in the market place for the imaginary sufferings of negroes to whose well-fed and happy condition their own wretched paupers might aspire in vain. Before they indulged in this invective, it would have been wise to have inquired who were the authors of the evil. In the language of an English statesman— ‘‘If slavery is the misfortune of America, it is the crime of Great Britain. We poured the foul infection into her veins, and fed and cherished the leprosy which now deforms that otherwise prosperous country.’’ Having ﬁlled their purses as traders in slaves, they have become traders in philanthropy, and manage to earn a character for helping slavery out of the very plantations of the South they helped to stock. They resemble their own beau ideal of a ﬁne gentleman - George IV - who, it is said, drove his wife into imprudences by his brutality and neglect, and then persecuted her to death for having fallen into them; or one of those fashionable philosophers who seduce women and then upbraid them for a want of virtue. Like the Roman emperor, they ﬁnd no unsavory smell in the gold derived from the ﬁlthiest source. The ﬁrst abolition society in Great Britain was established in 1823, and it is a fact worthy of note that the ﬁrst public advocate in England of the doctrine of immediate and unconditional abolition was a woman—Elizabeth Herrick. In 1825, the Anti-Slavery Society commenced the circulation of the Monthly Anti-Slavery Reporter, which was edited by Zacharay Macaulay, Esq., the father of the late Thomas B. Macaulay, the essayist, historian and lord. Petitions began to be circulated, public meetings were held, and the Methodist Conferences took an active part in the movement, exhorting their brethren, ‘‘for the love of Christ,’’ to vote for no candidates not known to be pledged to the cause of abolition. Rectors, curates, doctors of divinity, members of Parliament and peers engaged in the work, and converts rapidly increased. Riots and disturbances resulted. In 1832, an insurrection fomented by abolition missionaries, broke out in the island of Jamaica, which was only terminated by a resort to the musket and gibbet—the usual fruit of these incendiary doctrines, wherever they have been circulated. In 1833, a bill was passed by the British government, by which, for a compensation of one hundred millions of dollars, eight hundred thousand slaves in the British West Indies received their liberation. This was followed, in 1843, by the abolition of slavery throughout the British dominions,

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which emancipated twelve millions more in the East Indies. The cause thus received a new impetus; societies sprang into life all over the United Kingdom; a correspondence was opened in every part of the world where negroes were held in bondage; lectures were sent abroad, especially to the United States, to disseminate their doctrines and stir up rebellion, both among the people and the slaves; earnest endeavors were made to inﬂuence the policy of the non- slaveholding States of the North, and create a hatred for the South; and, in short, the abolition movement settled down in a determined warfare against the institution of slavery wherever it existed. It has been a war in which newspapers, pamphlets, periodicals, tracts, books, novels, essays—in a word, the entire moral forces of the human mind—have been the weapons. England became the champion of anti-slavery, and the United States became the theatre of a crusade, which seemed as if intended to carry out the spirit of the remark of Sir Robert Peel, that ‘‘the one hundred millions of dollars paid for the abolition of slavery in the West Indies was the best investment ever made for the overthrow of American institutions.’’ Exeter hall and the Staffed House became the center of this new system, around which revolved all the lights of British abolitionism. The ground of immediate and unconditional emancipation, however, was not taken by the English abolitionists until subsequent years, but these views, when presented, found ready concurrence from Clarkson, Wilberforce and other well known advocates of the cause. Among the English statesmen pledged upon the subject, were Grey, Lansdowne, Holland, Brougham, Melbourne, Palmerston, Graham, Stanley and Baxton, and in the hands of these fervent leaders the cause speedily progressed towards its fruition. From this time forward the coalesced efforts of British and Northern inﬂuence to disturb the institution of slavery in the South, to render slave labor less valuable and incite the negroes to rebellion, have been continued with more or less system, occasionally threatening the stability of the Union; the whole object of Great Britain being, not the welfare of the slave, but the destruction of slave labor, whereby, through a system of conquest and forced labor, she would be able to supplant the United States, by producing her cotton from the ﬁelds of the Eastern world. With this end in view, and coupled perhaps with the idea that the abolition of slavery would break down our republican form of government, she resorted to every species of intrigue that promised success. Dissensions have been sown between the North and South; the ‘‘underground railroad’’ system has been established leading to her Canadian possessions; agitation and assault have been perservingly maintained; the country has been ﬂooded with tirades of every hue and kind against the institution; the Northern pulpit has been desecrated in its dedication to the work of stirring up strife; churches have been severed in twain, and Southern Christians denied fellowship with their Northern brethren, until the grand political climax has been reached of secession and revolution. It is safe to say that from the time this plan of operation was digested in England, thirty years ago, there is scarcely a movement that has taken place on the chess-board of American abolitionism, which, under the guise of philanthropy, has not been dictated at Exeter Hall for the purpose of destroying the production of cotton and breaking down the free government of this country. Among the more far-seeing and practical statesmen of Great Britain, however— men who have ever dissented from the ultra views of abolitionists—there is an evident alarm that this headlong policy that has been pursued will rebound upon the interests of the mother country. Already the subject has become a source of anxious

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consideration, and the people of England are beginning to look around for some relief from that dependence upon American institutions which has heretofore been the reliance and support of millions of their workers. They ﬁnd that the example they have set, and the policy they have urged, does not promise to be altogether so beneﬁcial to them as they supposed. In this connection it will be interesting, as a matter of history, to preserve the master rebuke of Lord Brougham to the unconditional abolitionists of Boston, who invited him to be present at the John Brown anniversary of the past year. He says:— ‘‘Brougham, Nov. 20, 1860. ‘‘Sir—I feel honored by the invitation to attend the Boston Convention, and to give my opinion upon the question ‘‘How can American Slavery be abolished?’’ I consider the application is made to me as conceiving me to represent the antislavery body in this country; and I believe that I speak their sentiments as well as my own in expressing the widest difference of opinion with you upon the merits of those who prompted the Harper’s Ferry expedition, and upon the fate of those who suffered for their conduct in it. No one will doubt my earnest desire to see slavery extinguished, but that desire can only be gratiﬁed by Lawful means, a strict regard to the rights of property, or what the law declares property, and a constant repugnance to the shedding of blood. No man can be considered a martyr unless he not only suffers but is witness to the truth; and he does not bear this testimony who seeks a lawful object by illegal means. Any other course taken for the abolition of slavery can only delay the consummation we so devoutly wish, besides exposing the community to the hazard of an insurrection of perhaps less hurtful to the master than the slave.’’ Progress of Abolition in America—An Era of Reforms—Southern Efforts for Manumission—Various Plans of Emancipation that have been suggested—The ﬁrst Abolition journal—New York ‘‘Journal of Commerce’’—William Lloyd Garrison, his Early Life and Association—The Nat. Turner Insurrection in 1832, &c, &c. Probably no period in the history of the country has been more characterized by the spirit of reform and innovation than that embraced between the years 1825 and 1839. It then seemed as if all the social, moral and religious inﬂuences of the community had been gathered in a focus that was destined to annihilate the wickedness of man. Missionary enterprises, though in their youth, were full of vigor. Anniversaries were the occasion of an almost crazy excitement; religion assumed the shape of fanaticism; the churches were thrilled with the sudden idea that the millennium was at hand—the ‘‘evangelization of the world’’ never was blessed with fairer prospects—the ‘‘awakenings to grace’’ were on the most tremendous scale. Peace societies were formed—temperance societies ﬂourished more than ever—Free masonry was attacked, socially and politically—the Sabbath mail question became one of the absorbing topics of the day—theatres, lotteries, the treatment of the ‘‘poor Indian’’ by the general government—all came under the most rigorous religious review—the Colonization Society, established in 1816, enlarged its operations, and, in short, the spirit of reform became epidemic, and the period one of unprecedented moral and political inquiry. It was a period, too, when in many of the States of the South, and especially those upon the Northern border, the subject was freely discussed of a gradual and healthy emancipation of the slaves, and various plans for this object were presented and entertained. The most valuable agencies were set at work—not by abolitionists, but by Southerners themselves, in whose hearts there had sprung up an embryo

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reformatory principle simultaneously with the landing upon their shores of the ﬁrst slaves of their Northern brethren, which would have gone on increasing and fructifying had not the bitterest of denunciation been launched against them and driven the assaulted into an attitude of self- defence, whose deﬁant spirit now speaks out to the assailant in a bold justiﬁcation of the institution attacked, as natural and necessary, and which it shall be their purpose to perpetuate forever. As early as 1816 a manumission society was formed in Tennessee, whose object was the gradual emancipation of the slaves under a system of healthy and judicious State legislation. At a later day, Virginia, Maryland and Kentucky were the theatres of discussion on the same subject, and in all of them the question was agitated, socially and politically, with a freedom and liberty that indicated a general desire to effect the philanthropic object. Various plans having the same end in view were likewise proposed, some of them evincing a remarkable ingenuity. One of these, in 1817, was to encourage, by all proper means, emancipation in the South; then to make arrangements with the non-slaveholding States to receive the freed negroes, and compel the latter, by law, if necessary, to reside in those States. By this means it was thought that a gradual change of ‘‘complexion’’ could be effected from natural causes, which would not take place unless the blacks were scattered, and that thus, from simple association and adventitious mixtures, the sable color would retire by degrees, and after a few generations a black person would be a rarity in the community. Another plan proposed in 1819 was to remove the females to the Northern States, where they should be bound out in respectable families; those unmarried, of ten years and upwards, to be immediately free, and all the rest of the stock then existing to become so at ten years of age; the proceeds of the males sold to be appropriated by the party making the purchase to the removal and education of these females. In furtherance of this scheme, it was argued that while negro women would still bear children, though settled among white persons, they would not do so half so rapidly, and thus their posterity would in three or four generations lose the offensive color and have a tint not more disagreeable than the millions who are called white men in Southern Europe and the West Indies, and ﬁnally be lost in the common mass of humanity. While it is true that very few people, after ﬁfty or sixty years, could under this rule boast of their fathers and mothers, the grand object would be attained, and the world be satisﬁed. Another proposition, which emanated from a distinguished gentleman in one of the Southern States, and ﬁlling one of the highest ofﬁces in the government of the United States, was that a grade of color should be ﬁxed in all the slaveholding States at which a person should be declared free and entitled to all the rights of a citizen, even if born of a slave. He contended that this act would separate all such persons from the negro race, and present a very considerable check to the progress of the black population, giving them at the same time new interests and feelings. The children thus emancipated, even if the parents should not be wholly ﬁtted for it, would come into society with advantages nearly equal to those of the poorer classes of white people, and might work their way to independence as well, without any counteracting detriment to the public good. In Virginia, in 1821, it was suggested through the columns of the Richmond Enquirer, that an act should be passed declaring that all involuntary servitude should cease to exist in that State from and after the year 2000; thus, without reducing for

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one or two generations the value of slave property one cent, affording ample time and opportunity to dispose of or exchange that dead property for a more useful and proﬁtable kind. In 1825, Hon. Mr. King, of New York, introduced into the Senate of the United States the annexed resolution:— ‘‘That as soon as the portion of the existing funded debt of the United States, for the payment of which the public land is pledged, shall have been paid off, thenceforth the whole of the public lands of the United States, with the net proceeds of al future sales thereof, shall constitute and form a fund which is hereby appropriated to aid the emancipation of such slaves and the removal of any free persons of color in any of the said States, as by the laws of the several States respectively may be allowed to be emancipated, or to be removed to any territory or country without the limits of the United States of America.’’ This resolution, however, was not called up by the mover, or otherwise acted upon. Still another plan was to raise money by contribution throughout the Union and elsewhere, and buy all the slaves at $250 each. The value of four million negroes at $500 each, their average market value, would be $2,000,000,000. It is unnecessary to say that none of these propositions were ever adopted in practice. In fact, while abolitionism has pretended to fell for the supposed sufferings of slaves, it has never felt much in its pockets to aid them. At such a period—when the rampant spirit of reform was attacking every imaginary evil of the times—it is not a matter of wonder that northern abolitionists, yielding to their fanatical prejudices and to the British intrigue that was urging them onward, commenced that acrimonious agitation of the question which has since been its leading characteristic. The negro was pronounced ‘‘a man and a brother,’’ and that was the beginning and end of the argument. Tracts, speeches, pamphlets and essays were scattered, ‘‘without money and without price.’’ The pulpit vied with the press, and every imaginable form of argument was used to hold up slavery as the most horrible of all atrocities, and the ‘‘sum of all villanies.’’ Newspapers began to be an acknowledged element in the land, and falling in the train of the young revolution, or rather growing out of it, wielded immense power among the masses. Among those then devoted to the subject of reform were the National Philanthropist, commenced in 1826; the Liberator, by William Lloyd Garrison, at Boston, in 1831, and the Emancipator, in New York. The ﬁrst abolition journal ever published in this city was the present Journal of Commerce, which was commenced September 1, 1827, by a company of stockholders, the principal of whom was the famous Arthur Tappan. The following extracts from its prospectus, issued March 24, 1827, will sufﬁciently indicate the puritanical character of its authors, and the general tone of the paper:— ‘‘In proposing to add another daily paper to the number already published in this city, the projectors deem it proper to state that the measure has been neither hasty nor unadvisedly undertaken. Men of wisdom, intelligence and character have been consulted, and with one voice have recommended its establishment. ‘‘Believing, as we do, that the theatre is an institution which all experience proves to be inimical to morality, and consequently tending to the destruction of our republican form of government, it is a part of our design to exclude from the columns of the journal all theatrical advertisements. ‘‘The pernicious inﬂuence of

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lotteries being admitted by the majority of intelligent men, and this opinion coinciding with our own, all lottery advertisements will also be excluded. ‘‘In order to avoid a violation of the Sabbath, by the setting of types, collecting of ship news, &c, on that day, the paper on Monday will be issued at a later hour than usual, but as early as possible after the arrival of the mails. In this way the Journal will anticipate by several hours a considerable part of the news contained in the evening papers of Monday and the morning papers of Tuesday, and will also give the ship news collected after the publication of the other morning papers. With these views we ask all who are friendly to the cause of morality in encouraging our undertaking.’’ Extract from the Minutes of a Meeting of Merchants and others at the American Tract Society’s house, March 24, 1827: ‘‘Resolved, That the prospectus of a new daily commercial paper, to be called the ‘New York Journal of Commerce,’ having been laid before this meeting, we approve of the plan upon which it is conducted, and cordially recommend it to the patronage of all friends to good morals and to the stability of our republican institutions.’’ ‘‘ARTHUR TAPPAN, Chairman.’’ ‘‘ROX LOCKWOOD, Secretary.’’ In its issue of October 30, 1828, we ﬁnd the following:— ‘‘It appears from an article in the Journal of the Times, a newspaper of some promise just established in Bennington, Vt., that a petition to Congress for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia is about to be put in circulation in that State. ‘‘The idea is an excellent one, and we hope it will meet with success. That Congress has a right to abolish slavery in that District seems reasonable, though we fear it will meet with some opposition, so very sensitive are the slaveholding community to every movement relating to the abolition of slavery. At the same time, it would furnish to the world a beautiful pledge of their sincerity if they would unite with the non-slaveholding States, and by a unanimous vote proclaim freedom to every soul within sight of the capital of this free government. We could then say, and the world would then admit our pretence, that the voice of the nation is against slavery, and throw back upon Great Britain that disgrace which is of right and justice her exclusive property.’’ Another of its editorials on November 15, 1828:— ‘‘We are all equally interested in demolishing the fabric (of slavery) and we may as well go to work peaceably and reduce it brick by brick as to make it a matter of warfare, and throw our enterprise and industry into the opposite scale.’’ In the course of time changes were made in the ownership of the paper, but one of its original proprietors is still its senior editor. About this period William Lloyd Garrison made his appearance upon the stage, and he has been probably one of the most intensely hated, as well as one of the most sternly, severely and vociferously enthusiastic men in the Union. He is a native of Massachusetts, and at a very early age was placed in a printing ofﬁce in Newburyport by his mother. Shortly after he was twenty- one years of age he set up a paper which he called the Free Press, which was read chieﬂy by a class of very advanced readers at the North. After this he removed to Vermont, and edited the Journal of the Times. This was as early as 1828. In September, 1829, he removed to Baltimore for the purpose of editing the Genius of Universal Emancipation, in company with

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Benjamin Lundy. While performing these duties, a Newburyport merchant, named Francis Todd, ﬁtted out a small vessel, and ﬁlled it in Baltimore with slaves for the New Orleans market. Mr. Garrison noticed this fact in his paper, and commented upon it in terms so severe that Mr. Todd directed a suit to be brought against him for libel. He was thereupon tried, convicted and thrown in jail for non-payment of the ﬁne (one hundred dollars and costs). After an incarceration of ﬁfty days, he was released on the payment of his ﬁne, by Mr. Arthur Tappan, of this city, who, and his brother Lewis, before and since that time, have been chieﬂy celebrated for their efforts in the cause of abolition. In 1831, he wrote a few paragraphs that bear out the idea we have advanced—that there was then more real philanthropy in the South than at the North. He says:— ‘‘I issued proposals for the publication of the ‘‘Liberator’’ in Washington City, during my recent tour, for the purpose of exciting the minds of the people on the subject of slavery. Every place I visited gave fresh evidences of the fact that a greater revolution in public sentiment was to be effected in the free States, and particularly in New England, than at the South. I found contempt more bitter, opposition more active, detraction more relentless, prejudice more stubborn and apathy more frozen, than among the slaveowners themselves. I determined at every hazard to lift up the standard of emancipation in the eyes of the nation, within sight of Bunker Hill, and in the birthplace of liberty. I am in earnest; I will not equivocate, I will not excuse, I will not retreat a single inch. I will be heard. The apathy of the people is enough to make every statue lift from its pedestal, and to hasten the resurrection of the dead.’’ From this time it may be said that the anti-slavery cause took its place among the moral enterprises of the day. It assumed a deﬁnite shape, and commenced that system of warfare which has since been unremittingly waged against the South. During this year—1830—Mr. Tappan, Rev. S. S. Jocelyn, and others, projected the establishment of a seminary of learning at New Haven for the beneﬁt of colored students; but, opposition manifesting itself, it was abandoned. The ﬁrst regularly organized convention of colored men ever assembled in the United States for a similar purpose also held a meeting this year, and aided and abetted by the Tappan, Jocelyns and other agitators of the period, attempted to devise ways and means for bettering their condition and that of their race. They reasoned that all distinctive differences made among men on account of their origin was wicked, unrighteous and cruel, and solemnly protested against every unjust measure and policy in the country having for its object the proscription of the colored people, whether state, national, municipal, social, civil or religious. In fact, white men and black seem to have started in the race together, consorting like brothers and sisters together in their aims and projects to accomplish the same end. About this time publications began to be scattered through the South, whose direct tendency was to stir up insurrection among the slaves. The Liberator found its way mysteriously into the hands of the negroes, and individuals, under the garb of religion, were discovered in private consultation with the slaves. Suddenly, in August, 1831, the whole Union was startled by the announcement of an outbreak among the slaves of Southampton County, VA; and now commences the history of a career of violence and bloodshed that has marked every footstep of the abolition movement. The leader of this outbreak was a slave named Nat Turner, and from him its name has been derived. Impelled by the belief that he was divinely called to be the deliverer of his oppressed countrymen, he succeeded in ﬁxing the impression upon

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the minds of two or three others, his fellow slaves. Turner could read and write, and these acquirements gave him an inﬂuence over his associates. He was possessed, however, of little information, and, is represented to have been cowardly, cruel, and as he afterwards confessed, ‘‘a little credulous.’’ It was a matter of notoriety that ‘‘secret agents of abolition had corrupted and betrayed him.’’ However that may be, Nat declared that ‘‘he was advised’’ only to read to the slaves, that ‘‘Jesus came not to bring peace, but a sword!’’ Such a tree produced ﬁtting fruits. About midnight on the Sabbath of the 21st of August, 1831, Turner, with his confederates, burst into his master’s house, and murdered every one of the white inmates. They were armed with knives and axes, and, in order to strike terror into the whites, most shockingly mangled the bodies of their victims. Neither helpless infancy nor female loveliness were spared. They then, by threats of death, compelled all the slaves to join them who would not do it voluntarily, and, exciting themselves to fury by ardent spirits, they proceeded to the next plantation. The happy family were reposing in the sound and quiet slumbers which precede the break of day, as the shouts of the raving insurgents fell upon their ears. It was the work of a moment, and they were all weltering in their gore. Not a white individual was spared to carry the tidings. The blow which dashed the infant left its brains upon the hearth. The head of the youthful maiden was in one part of the room and her mangled body was in another. Here again the number of insurgents was increased by those who voluntarily joined them, and by others who did it through compulsion. Stimulating their passions still more by intoxication, and arming themselves with such guns as they could obtain, some on horseback and others on foot, they rushed along to the next plantation. The morning now began to dawn, and the shrieks of those who fell under the sword and the axe of the negro were heard at a distance, and thus the alarm was soon spread from plantation to plantation, carrying inconceivable terror to every heart. The whites supposed it was a plot deeply laid and widely spread, and that the day had come for indiscriminate massacre. One gentleman who heard the appalling tidings hurried to a neighboring plantation, and arrived there just in time to hear the dying shrieks of the family and triumphant shouts of the negroes. He hastened in terror to his own home, but the negroes were there before him, and his wife and daughter had already fallen victims to their fury. Thus the infuriated slaves went on from plantation to plantation, gathering strength at every step, and leaving not a living white behind. They passed the day, until late in the afternoon, in this work of carnage, and numberless were the victims of their rage. The population in this country is not dense, and, rapidly as the alarm spread, it was impossible for some time to collect a sufﬁcient number to make a defence. Every family was entirely at the mercy of its own slaves. It is impossible to conceive of more distressing circumstances of apprehension. It is said that most of the insurgent slaves belonged to kind and indulgent masters, and consequently no one felt secure. Late in the afternoon, a small party of whites, well armed, collected at a plantation for defence. The slaves came on in large numbers, and, emboldened by success, they at ﬁrst drive back the whites. The slaves pressed on, thirsting for blood, and shouting with triumphant fury as the whites slowly retreated, apparently destined to be butchered, with their wives and children. Just at this awful moment a reinforcement of troops arrived, which turned the tide of victory and dispersed the slaves. Exhausted with the horrible labors of the day, the insurgents retired to the woods and marshes to pass the night. Early the next morning they commenced their work

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again. But the ﬁrst plantation they attacked—that of Dr. Blount—they were driven from by the slaves, who rallied around their master, and fearlessly hazarded their lives in his defence. By this time the whites were collected in sufﬁcient force to bar their further progress. The fugitives were scattered over the country in small parties, but every point was defended, and wherever they appeared they were routed, shot, taken prisoners, and the insurrection quelled. The leader, Nat Turner, for a few weeks succeeded in concealing himself in a cave in Southampton county, near the theatre of his bloody exploits; but was ﬁnally taken, and suffered the extreme penalty of the law. To describe the state of alarm to which this outbreak gave rise is impossible. Whole States were agitated; every plantation was the object of fear and suspicion; free negroes and slaves underwent the most rigid examination; armed bodies of men were held in constant readiness for any emergency which might arise; every slave who had participated in the insurrection were either shot or hung, and for months the entire South remained in a fever of excitement. All this time the abolition journals of the North were singing their hallelujahs over the event. They circulated through the South then much more freely than at present, and the following extract was read from one of these by a gentleman to his terriﬁed family, in the presence of the gentleman from whom the above particulars were derived:— ‘‘The news from the South is glorious. General Nat is a benefactor of his race. The Southampton massacre is an suspicious era for the African. The blood of the men, women and children shed by the sword and the axe in the hand of the negro is a just return for the drops which have followed the master’s lash.’’ Another extract, of similar rhetoric, from the record of that day, is from a speech by the ‘‘Reverend’’ Mr. Bayley, then of Shefﬁeld, Mass.:— ‘‘It is time that the ice was broken—time that the blacks considered they have the same right to regain their liberties, and even the present property of their owners, as the Hebrews had in despoiling the heathen round about them. The blacks should also know that it is their duty to destroy, if no other means offer conveniently, the monstrous incubuses and tyrants, yelept planters; and I, for one, would gladly lend a helping hand to lay them in one common grave! The country would be all the better for ridding the world of such a nest of vampyres.’’ Whether the abolitionist of the present time have modiﬁed the ideas they promulgated then, we shall see hereafter from a few among the ten thousand specimens that might be adduced. The effect of these tirades upon the south cannot be well conceived. Public opinion, just then opening to a free discussion of the question, drew back and shut itself within its castle. The bonds of slavery were bound tighter, the rivets were more strongly fastened, and a reactionary movement commenced that has never yet terminated. The New England Anti-Slavery Society, 1832—More Newspapers and Tracts— New York City Anti-Slavery Society and the Incident of Its Organization—The American Anti-Slavery Society and its Creed—The Extent and System of their operations—Abolition Rots in New York—An Era of Excitement—Negro Conspiracy in Mississippi—George Thompson, the English Abolitionist—Riot at Alton, Ill., and Death of the Rev. E. P. Lovejoy. In the year 1832, January 30, the New England or Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society went into operation, but with limited means. From this society have sprung

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the American Anti-Slavery Society and all its numerous auxiliaries. It was the ﬁrst organized body that attacked slavery on the principle of its inherent sinfulness, and enforced the consequent duty of ‘‘immediate emancipation.’’ All the events of a historical character which have marked the annals of the last thirty years, may be traced directly to the agitation which this society ﬁrst set on foot in this country. Men have been forced to throw aside their disguises and stand forth either as the open defenders of slavery or as propagators of the abolition movement. The two great antagonistic parties of the present day are the children of its vile creation. It has excited the very fury of antagonism; it has shaken the pulpit with excummicating thunders; it has indulged in the most bitter invective, deluged the country with invented instances of Southern barbarity, denounced the Constitution as a ‘‘league with hell,’’ and scattered its venom in every household of the free States, until men, women and children have become imbued with its contaminating infection. Their discourses have all been tirades; their exordium, argument and peroration have turned on epithets, slanders, innuendoes; Southerners have been reviled as ‘‘tyrants,’’ ‘‘thieves,’’ ‘‘murderers,’’ ‘‘atrocious monsters,’’ ‘‘violators of the laws of nature, God and man,’’ while their homes have been designated as ‘‘the abodes of iniquity,’’ and their land ‘‘one vast brothel.’’ More abolition papers sprang into existence. The New York Evangelist, then conducted by the Rev. Samuel Griswold, espoused the cause. Through the inﬂuence of the Tappans, millions of anti-slavery tracts were circulated monthly, and sent by mail to all portions of the country, and especially to clergymen. These publications were likewise scattered through the South, their direct tendency being to stir up the slaves to further insurrection. Recruits of all ages and professions came forward, and the cause numbered amongst its adherents many of the theologians and professional men of the period. On the 2d of October, 1833, a New York City Anti-Slavery Society was organized, though not without some demonstrations of opposition. In fact, a large majority of the most respectable citizens were opposed to the enterprise, and they accordingly determined, if possible, to crush the dangerous project in the bud. The meeting was advertised to be held in Clinton Hall, but during the course of the day the public feeling was excited by the posting through the city of a large placard, of which the following is a copy: ‘‘NOTICE—TO ALL PERSONS FROM THE SOUTH: All persons interested in the subject of a meeting called by J. Leavitt, W. Green, Jr., W. Goodell, J. Rankin and Lewis Tappan, at CLINTON HALL, this Evening, at 7 o’clock, are requested to attend at the same hour and place. ‘‘New York, Oct. 2d, 1833. MANY SOUTHERNERS.’’ Southerners, however, had nothing to do with the meeting. At an early hour people began to assemble in crowds in front of Clinton Hall, but the trustees, or some others, had closed the premises. The throng, however, still increased, and it soon became evident from the execrations mutually indulged in by the people, that the authors of the projected meeting were acting with discreet valor in staying away. William Lloyd Garrison, who had then just returned from England, where he had been engaged in fomenting excitement against this country, traducing its people and institutions, was an especial object of popular abhorrence and disgust, and it is said that many grave and respectable citizens would have gladly assented to his decoration in a coat of tar and feathers. Notwithstanding the notiﬁcation of ‘‘No meeting,’’ Clinton Hall was opened and crowded to suffocation. Speeches were delivered by a number of citizens, and a series of resolutions, prepared by Mr. F. A. Tallmadge, were adopted, deprecating any

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interference in the question of slavery, and expressing a determination to resist every attempt on the part of the abolitionist to effect their object. It appears, however, that the purposes for which the meeting was originally called were indirectly attained. Finding it much easier to raise a popular whirlwind than to ride securely upon it, they prudently and privately changed their place of meeting to Chatham street chapel. Here the New York City Anti-Slavery Society was duly organized, having for its object the ‘‘total and immediate abolition of slavery in the United States.’’ Its ﬁrst ofﬁcers were:— President—Arthur Tappan Vice-President—John Rankin Corresponding Secretary—Elizur Wright, Jr. Recording Secretary—Rev. Chas. W. Dennison Managers—Joshua Leavitt, Isaac T. Hopper, Abraham Cox, M.D., Lewis Tappan, William Goodell. The proceedings of the night appear to have terminated in a broad farce, for after the breaking up of the citizens’ meeting, the crowd proceeded to Chatham street Chapel to see what was going on there. They found the doors open and the lights burning, but the meeting had suddenly dispersed. The digniﬁed philosophers, unable to ‘‘stand ﬁre,’’ had retreated ‘‘bag and baggage,’’ through the back windows. To have the frolic out, a black man was put upon the stage, a series of humorous resolutions were passed, good- natured speeches on the burlesque order were made, and, instead of the angry frowns with which the evening was commenced, the whole affair terminated amid the broad grins of a numerous multitude. Precisely one week after the above occurrence, another meeting of the citizens was held, over which the Mayor of the city presided. Among the orators was Hon. Theodore Frelinghuysen, then United States Senator from New Jersey, afterwards a candidate for VicePresident of the United States on the ticket with Henry Clay, and he directly charged the abolitionists with ‘‘Seeking to dissolve the Union,’’ declared that ninetenths of the horrors of slavery were imaginary, and that ‘‘the crusade of abolition was merely the poetry of philanthropy.’’ Chancellor Walworth was likewise in attendance, and denounced their efforts as unconstitutional, and the individuals instigating them as ‘‘reckless incendiaries.’’ On the 4th, 5th and 6th of December, 1833, a National Anti-Slavery Convention was held in the city of Philadelphia, when, pursuant to previous notice, sixty delegates from ten States assembled, viz:—Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Ohio. Beriah Green, President of Oneida Institute, was chosen President, and Lewis Tappan and John G. Whittier, Secretaries. The resolution were prepared in committee by William Lloyd Garrison. This convention organized the American AntiSlavery Society, of which Arthur Tappan was chosen President; Elizur Wright, Jr., Secretary of Domestic Correspondence; William L. Garrison, Secretary of Foreign Correspondence; A. L. Cox, Recording Secretary, and William Green, Jr., Treasurer. The Executive Committee was located in New York city, the seat of the society’s operations, which were not prosecuted with vigor. The Emancipator became the organ of the society. Tracts, pamphlets and books were published and circulated; a large number of agents were employed in different guises to promote the work throughout the country, North and South; State, county and local anti-slavery societies were organized throughout the free States; funds were collected; the New

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England Anti-Slavery Society became the Massachusetts State Society, and the whole machinery of agitation was put in thorough working order. Among the earliest principles adopted by the abolition societies was the following: ‘‘Immediate and unconditional emancipation is eminently prudent, safe and beneﬁcial to all parties concerned. ‘‘No compensation is due to the slaveholder for emancipating his slaves; and emancipation creates no necessity for such compensation, because it is of itself a pecuniary beneﬁt, not only to the slave, but to the master.’’ So perfect was this system of operations, that in 1836 the society numbered two hundred and ﬁfty auxiliaries in thirteen States. In eighteen months afterwards it had increased to one thousand and six. In one week alone, $6,000 were raised in Boston and $20,000 in the city of New York. To such an extent was the abolition furor carried at this time, that many prominent individuals had their dinner service, plates, cups, saucers, &c, embellished with ﬁgures of slaves in chains, and other emblems of the same character. Similar prints, or pictorial illustrations of the natural equality before God of all men, without distinction of color, and setting forth the happy fruits of a universal acknowledgement of this truth by the exhibition of a white woman in no equivocal relations to a black man, were circulated in the South. The infection also broke out on Northern pocket handkerchiefs made for Southern children, candy wrappers, fans and anti-slavery seals, all being made to represent the prevailing idea. The reaction shortly took place. Laws were passed forbidding the reception or circulation of these incendiary articles in the Southern States. Mobs broke into the post ofﬁces and burned all abolition prints that could be found, and rewards were offered for the detection and punishment of any person found tampering with the slave population. Nor was this reaction conﬁned to the Southern section of the country; it was largely developed in the North. Churches soon began to be the theatres of discussions on the subject, and a conservative spirit sprang into life among all the principal religious sects. Merchants began to suffer in their business; manufacturers found their wares of no avail for the Southern market; and, in short, a strong spirit of opposition to the revolutionary doctrines of the abolitionists was manifested throughout the Northern States. This excited feeling soon culminated in an outbreak. On the 8th of July, 1834, the New York Sacred Music Society attempted to assemble, as was their wont, in Chatham street Chapel, for the purpose of practising sacred harmony. They found the place, however, ﬁlled with an audience of whites and blacks who had gathered to listen to an abolition address, and who obstinately refused to remove. But this was not all. The anger of the negroes was aroused in consequence of the request to remove, and they attacked several of the gentlemen with loaded canes and other implements, knocking some down and severely injuring others. The alarm was raised, crowds assembled, a ﬁght ensued in the church, the congregation were expelled, and the building was closed. As Mr. Lewis Tappan was returning to his house, the mob, supposing him to have been instrumental in producing the disorder, followed him home and threw stones at his house. On the 9th, three more riots occurred. The crowd proceeded to the Bowery Theatre, took possession of the house, and put an end to ‘‘Metamora,’’ without waiting the tragic conclusion to which it was destined by the author. A great number then proceeded to the house of Lewis Tappan, in Rose street, broke open the door, smashed the windows

26. History of American abolitionism

and threw the furniture into the street. A bonﬁre was lighted, and beds and bedding made the ﬂames. Fuel was added to the excitement by publications in the Emancipator, over the signature of Elizur Wright, Jr., in which intimations were thrown out covertly, inviting to a forcible resistance to the laws which authorize the recapture of runaways slaves. Placards were posted through the streets in great numbers, and the demon of disorder appeared to have taken possession of the city. On the night of the 10th, the crowd again assembled and made their way to Dr. Cox’s church, then on the corner of Laight and Varick streets, which they assaulted with stones, breaking the windows and doing a variety of mischief. They then proceeded to Dr. Cox’s house, No. 3 Charlton street, but, anticipating an attack, he had packed up and sent away his furniture, and removed with his family into the country on the previous afternoon. The mob commenced the work of destruction by breaking in the two lower windows; but they had scarcely effected an entrance before they were driven from the premises by the police ofﬁcers and a detachment of horse. They were thence- forward kept at bay, but as far east as Thompson street, the streets were ﬁlled with an excited multitude, armed with paving stones, which they smote together, crying ‘‘All together.’’ A fence was torn down and converted into clubs, and a barricade of carts was built across the street to impede the horsemen. After a while order was gradually restored and the tumult subsided for the night. On the 11th, it broke out again, when an attack was made on the store of Arthur Tappan, in Pearl street. The rioters were driven away, however, by the police, without further damage than the smashing of a few windows. A second attack was likewise made on Dr. Cox’s church, and also the church of Rev. Mr. Ludlow, in Spring street. The latter was almost completely sacked, nearly the entire interior being torn up and carried into the street to erect barricades against the horse and infantry which had assembled at various rendezvous at an early hour, in compliance with the proclamation of the Mayor. The excitement continued to increase. The bells were rung, and the Seventh (then the Twenty-seventh) regiment, under Col. Stevens, charged upon the rioters, driving them from their position an clearing Spring street. The crowd next proceeded to the residence of Rev. mr. Ludlow, whose family had retired, and after breaking the windows and doors, left the ground. Later in the night an immense riot occurred in the neighborhood of the Five Points. St. Phillip’s Episcopal Church (colored), in Center street, was nearly torn down, while several houses occupied by negroes in the vicinity were entirely demolished. Several days elapsed before quiet was effectually restored. Al the military of the city during this time were under arms. Similar, outbreaks also occurred at Norwich, Conn., Newark, N.J., and other places, where the negroes, under the effect of abolition teachings, grown bold and impudent, were compelled to leave town. In Norwich the mob entered a church during the delivery of an abolition sermon, took the parson from the pulpit, walked him into the open air to the tune of the ‘‘Rogue’s March,’’ drummed him out of the town, and threatened if he ever made his appearance in the place again they would give him ‘‘a coat of tar and feathers.’’ Similar scenes were enacted in Philadelphia, where a large hall was burned, and other public and private buildings in which the negroes and abolitionists were in the habit of meeting, were either injured or demolished. On the 28th of June, 1835, it was discovered that the negroes of Livingston, in Madison county, Miss., under the lead of a band of white men, contemplated a general rising. A committee of safety was instantly organized, and two of the white

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ringleaders were arrested, tried, and, after a confession, forthwith hanged. By this confession, it appeared that the plan was conceived by the notorious John A. Murrel, a well known Mississippi pirate at that time, and that it embraced the destruction of the entire population and liberation of the slaves in the South generally. For two years the disaffection had thus been spreading, and, with few exceptions, adherents existed on every plantation in the county. Arms and ammunitions had been secreted for the purpose, and everything made ready for a general outbreak. The confession involved numerous white men and black, many of whom were arrested and suffered for their diabolical designs. Among these was one Ruel Blake, of Connecticut. The summary proceedings adopted, however, had the desired effect, and in a few months tranquillity was restored to the unsettled and excited district. The year 1835 was one of the most exciting eras of agitation in the early history of anti-slavery. The events of the preceding few months had aroused the entire country to a realizing sense of the dangerous tendency of the abolitionists and the rapid progress of their cause. In Congress the subject had gain begun to be agitated, through petitions presented by various individuals and bodies in the free States, praying the interference of the government in the abolition of slavery, and in society at large a more decided sentiment was evidently being formed pro and con, than had previously been manifested. In the South, incendiary publications were circulated to such an alarming extent, that the press and people of that section rose en masse to put down the growing evil. Following the insurrection to which allusion has been made above, at a public meeting held in the town of Mississippi, it was unanimously resolved that any ‘‘individual who dared to circulate incendiary tracts or publications, likely to excite the slaves to rebellion, was justly worthy, in the sight of God and man, of immediate death.’’ And at a similar meeting in Williamsburg, Va., no less a personage than General John Tyler, afterwards President of the United States, endorsed a resolution to the effect that the circulation of these incendiary documents was an act of treasonable character, and that when offenders were detected in the fact, condign punishment ought and would be inﬂicted upon them without resort to any other tribunal. In this state of alarm, the allows and stake soon found victims, and within a period of a few months, no less than a dozen individuals, white and black, who were found among the slaves, inciting them to insurrection, receive the just award of their crime. Efforts were also made at this time by several Southern communities to get some of the prominent abolitionists in their power, so that an example might be made of those who were too cowardly to appear in the ﬁeld of this species of missionary labor themselves. Among others, a reward of ﬁve thousand dollars was offered by the Legislature of Georgia for the apprehension of either of ten persons named in a resolution, citizens of New York and Massachusetts, and ‘‘one George Thompson, a subject of Great Britain.’’ An offer of ten thousand dollars was likewise made for the arrest of Rev. A. A. Phelps, a clergyman of New York, and ﬁfty thousand dollars was offered to any one who would deliver into their hands the famous Arthur Tappan or Le Roy Sunderland, a well known Methodist minister. Even the clergymen added their voice to the general cry of indignation that rose from the Southern heart; and when, in July, 1835, a few days after the forcing of the Post ofﬁce, and the destruction of the abolition publications there found, by a crowd in Charleston, S.C., a public meeting was held for completing measures of protection, the clergy of all denominations attended in a body to lend their sanction to

26. History of American abolitionism

the proceedings. About this time one of the Methodist preachers of South Carolina addressed the following novel letter to Rev. Le Roy Sunderland, editor of Zion’s Watchman of New York:— ‘‘If you wish to educate the slaves, I will tell you how to raise the money, without editing Zion’s Watchman. You and old Arthur Tappan come out to the South this winter, and they will raise one hundred thousand dollars for you. New Orleans itself would be pledged for it. Desiring no further acquaintance with you, I am, &c. J. C. POSTELL Laws of the most stringent character were passed by nearly all the Southern States to prevent the further dissemination among the Southern people of abolition doctrines, and an appeal was made to the Legislatures of the North to do the same thing. Indeed, the entire policy of that section as regards the previous license allowed to slaves and free negroes was changed so as to render it difﬁcult, if not impossible, for any future inﬂuence of an insurrectionary character to be exerted upon them. Public meetings were also held, at which resolutions were passed declaratory of the determination to put down at all hazards these repeated attempts on the part of abolitionists to deluge their families and ﬁresides in blood. In many of the principal cities a list of all persons arriving and departing was kept, that it might be known who were and who were not to be regarded with suspicion. The effect upon the North was not less marked, and this prompt action on the part of their Southern brethren found thousands of sympathizers. Indignation was almost universal. The press teemed with articles upon the subject, and among the majority of the order-loving journals of the day, it was generally agreed that if the madmen who were scattering ﬁrebrands, arrows and death, could not be persuaded or rebuked to silence, no other alternative was allowed to the slaveholding States to protect themselves, except by the system of passports, examination and punishments, which to some extent they had adopted, and in which they were justiﬁed. The people, too, were smarting under the insults that were poured out upon the nation by the English emissaries and agents who were in the country lending their assistance to the prevailing mischief. Among these individuals was the famous George Thompson, an agent and orator of the British Anti- Slavery Society. Such was the excitement produced by his opprobrious language towards the South, that in many places where he appeared he was greeted with demonstrations of anything but a complimentary character. At Lynn, Mass., he was assaulted by females with rotten eggs and stones, and driven off the ground; and at New Bedford, in the language of the poet, ‘‘When to speak the man essayed, Gods! what a noise the ﬁddles made.’’ He was emphatically ‘‘sung down.’’ At Boston the matter was still more serious. It having been announced that Garrison and Thompson would speak before a female anti-slavery meeting, the following hand-bill was circulated:— ‘‘THOMPSON THE ABOLITIONIST.—That famous foreign scoundrel, Thompson, will hold forth this afternoon, at the Liberator ofﬁce, No. 48 Washington Street. The present is a fair opportunity for the friends of the Union to ‘snake Thompson out!’ It will be a contest between the abolitionists and the friends of the Union. A purse of $100 has been raised by a number of patriotic citizens to reward the individual who shall ﬁrst lay hands on Thompson, so that he may be brought to the tar-kettle before dark. Friends of the Union, be vigilant.’’ It is needless to say that Thompson did not appear. Garrison did, however, or rather he was found ensconced, martyr-like, under a pile of shavings in a carpenter’s shop. A rope was then fastened around his neck, and he was gently lowered out of a

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window to the ground. A general exclamation from the assembled crowd, ‘‘Don’t hurt him,’’ indicated the gentleness of the mob, and, pale and convulsed, he was thus led to the Mayor’s ofﬁce in the City Hall. Afterwards he was conducted to jail, and, as he sank exhausted into his place, he made the remark, ‘‘Never was man so rejoiced to get into jail before.’’ The rabble, which by the by, was of an unexceptionable character, soon after dispersed, their object having been effected, and the next morning Garrison was liberated from conﬁnement. In Uttica and Rochester, N.Y., Worcester, Mass., Canaan, N.H., and at various places in the New England States, the abolitionists met with similar treatment. Their assemblages were either disturbed or broken up, and they often found it required a large amount of determination to resist the indignation which their fanaticism had aroused against them. Meetings were also held in every portion of the North, at which inﬂuential citizens attended to denounce the policy of the abolitionists as subversive of the Union and Constitution, and to express their sympathy for the South. Several of the postmasters of the North, participating in this reactionary sentiment, on their own responsibility, even refused to allow the incendiary documents to pass through the mails. Such was the activity of the abolitionists, however, that in the month of August alone over 175,000 copies of their publications were circulated through the United States; and their presses, under the direction of the Tappans and Garrison & Co., were employed night and day to foment the excitement. It was said that these individuals had then planned an insurrectionary movement throughout the South, which was to have been developed on a certain day; but the whirlwind they raised in every section of the country rendered this impossible, and they were compelled to change their programme of operations. Though somewhat modiﬁed by the restrictions with which public opinion had surrounded the abolitionists, this state of affairs continued through the year 1836. The subject of excluding from the mails the whole series of publications came under the consideration of government, and the proposition of the President, Andrew Jackson, regarding the propriety of passing a law for this purpose, being acted upon in Congress, resulted in a bill rendering it unlawful for any deputy postmaster to deliver to any person any pamphlet, newspaper, handbill or pictorial representation, touching the subject of slavery, where, by the laws of the State, Territory or District their circulation was prohibited. This healthy measure was defeated, however, on the ﬁnal vote. The principal anti-slavery event of the year 1837 was a riot at Alton, Ill. For a long time the community of that town had been agitated by the abolitionists, and ﬁnally, on an attempt being made to resuscitate the Alton observer, a newspaper previously edited by the Rev. E. P. Lovejoy, (brother of Owen Lovejoy, the present member of Congress from Illinois,) a journal which, in his hands, had become conspicuous for the violence of its denunciations against the South and its institutions, a terrible riot ensured. It had been announced for several days that a printing press was hourly expected to arrive, intended for the purpose above named. This gave rise to an intense excitement and to open threats, that its landing would be resisted, if necessary, by force of arms. It was landed, however, and placed in a warehouse, under the protection of a guard of twenty or thirty gentlemen who had volunteered for the purpose. Almost immediately there were indications of an attack. The press was demanded by the mob, who insisted that they would not be satisﬁed with anything less than its destruction. The party in the building determined it should not be given up, and during the angry altercation which ensued, a shot was ﬁred from

26. History of American abolitionism

one of the windows, which mortally wounded a man named Lyman Bishop. The crowd then withdrew, but with the death of Bishop the excitement increased to such an extent that they shortly appeared in greater numbers, armed with guns and weapons of different kinds, more than ever intent upon carrying out their original purpose. A rush was made upon the warehouse with the cries of ‘‘Fire the house,’’ ‘‘Burn them out,’’ &c. The ﬁring soon became fearful. The building was surrounded, and the inmates threatened with extermination and death in the most frightful form imaginable. Fire was applied, and all means of escape by ﬂight were cut off. The scene now became appalling. About the time the ﬁre was communicated to the building, Rev. E. P. Lovejoy received four balls in the breast, near the door of the warehouse, and fell a corpse. Several persons engaged in the attack were also severely wounded. The contest raged for more than an hour, when the party in the house intimated that they would abandon the premises and the press, if allowed to pass out unmolested. This was granted, and they made their escape, though several shots were ﬁred in the act. A large number of persons then rushed into the building, threw the press upon the wharf, where it was broken in pieces and thrown into the river. The ﬁre was then extinguished, and without further attempts at violence, the mob dispersed. No further indications of disorder were manifested. For long time this outbreak served as a check upon the aggressive policy of the abolitionists, and, though not thoroughly cowed, both principals and agents found that the agitation of the subject was like the handling of a sword whose double edges cut in both directions. After this event, with the exception of the burning of a hall in 1838, in which they held their meetings, in Philadelphia, the country for a number of years became comparatively quiet, and the agitators took good care not to give occasion for further public demonstrations. CHAPTER VI. The Era of ‘‘Gags’’ and Congressional Petitions—John Quincy Adams; his Petition for Disunion—Legislation from 1835 to 1845—Annexation of Texas—The Liberty Party of 1840, Free Soil Party of 1848, and Republican Party of 1850—Mexican War and Wilmot Proviso. The decade embraced between the years 1835 and 1845 may be termed the third epoch in the history of this movement. In that period, the grand experiment of the abolitionists was most effectually tried. They had felt the public pulse, developed their power and resources, had the beneﬁt of experience, and ascertained to what extent the public mind could be prejudiced by the course of agitation which they had pursued. It was in fact an era of lessons, as well to the country as to themselves. From a mere handful, the original organization had grown to be a power within itself—a power at the ballot-box—a power for right or wrong, for good or mischief, too self- reliant and too strong to be disregarded. Neither legislative enactments nor riots, nor personal chastisement, nor public opinion, had been able to restrain its rapid advances towards the consummation of its hopes. It lost ground nowhere, and in every non-slaveholding State its friends and funds were greatly multiplied. As an indication of its extraordinary growth, the number of anti-slavery societies in the United States, in the year 1838, may be safely estimated at two thousand, with at least two hundred thousand persons enrolled as members.

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These, however, were not all entitled to the suffrages of the party. They were the children and wives of fanatics who learned their lessons of abolition in the Bible classes, Sunday and secular schools, and from their parents and husbands. The sentiment was intruded, indeed, in all the relations of life—social, ﬁnancial and domestic, and even in the affairs of love, Cupid himself was made subservient to its ascendency. The belles of the day would hardly look upon a suitor who was not as well a worshipper at the shrine of their political passion, as of their beauty, and no youngster’s domestic destiny was at all certain of fruition who was not sound upon what was then regarded as the soul-saving question of abolitionism. The youths of 1840 have become the men of 1860, and in the enormous increase of the republican party, we see the result of the early inﬂuences thus set at work. For the ﬁrst time in its history, the organization began to be regarded as a political element in the land, and worthy of a courtship by those who desired its inﬂuence and support. Candidates for ofﬁce began to be catechised, and such men as William H. Seward, Levi Lincoln, William L. Marcy and others, found time to give lengthy replies to the authors of this new inquisition, setting forth their views. In local politics, it was the moral and political test by which men were measured, and it lay at the foundation of all the subsequent State action of the Northern Legislatures upon the subject of anti-slavery. In both branches of Congress, also, the question of abolition for the ﬁrst time occupied a large share of the deliberations, and was discussed under every possible aspect. From 1831, when John Quincy Adams presented ﬁfteen petitions in a single bunch, for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, similar documents, got up and circulated by anti- slavery societies, poured into both branches of the National Legislature in a steady stream. They also called for a prohibition of what was termed an ‘‘internal slave trade’’ between the States, avowing at the same time that their ultimate object was to abolish slavery, not only in the District, but throughout the Union. It was, indeed, the only mode in which the fanatics could agitate the question in Congress, and was a part of the scheme by which they expected to accomplish their purposes. Under the inﬂuence of the feelings excited by these causes, the Southern Senators and members declared, almost to a man, that if the Southern States could not remain in the Union without having their domestic peace continually disturbed by the systematic attempts of the abolitionists to produce dissatisfaction and revolt among the slaves and incite their wild passions to vengeance, the great law of self-preservation would compel them to separate from the North. This persistent demand of the abolitionists, through petitions, continued from session to session, until, becoming a nuisance, an effort was made to prevent their farther reception. The effort was, for a time, successful, and resulted in what was called the ‘‘era of gags’’—these gags being simply a rule of the House, ‘‘That all petitions, memorials, resolutions and propositions relating in any way or to any extent to the question of slavery shall, without either being printed or referred, be laid on the table, and no further action whatever shall be had thereon.’’ This was respectively passed in 1836, 1837 and 1838, and in 1840 it was incorporated into the standing rules of the House—being henceforward known as the ‘‘Twenty-ﬁrst Rule.’’ The vote upon this was—yeas, 128; nays, 78. The excitement produced in the House on the occasion of these several votes was intense, and speeches were made upon the question by the most distinguished men of the country.

26. History of American abolitionism

In 1837, the immediate occasion of the contest was the pertinacious effort of Mr. Slade, of Vermont, to make the presentation of abolition petitions the ground of agitation and action against the institution of slavery in the Southern States. Mr. Rhett, of South Carolina, warned him of the consequences of such inﬂammatory harangues, and his refusal to desist from them was the signal for a general disorder and uproar. The next morning a resolution similar to that above quoted was adopted by a vote of 135 yeas to 60 nays—the full two-thirds and ﬁfteen. ‘‘This,’’ says Thomas H. Benton, ‘‘was one of the most important votes ever delivered in the House.’’ Upon its issue depended the quiet of the House on one hand, and on the other the renewal and perpetuation of the scenes of the day before—ending in breaking up all deliberation and all national legislation. Thus were stiﬂed, and in future, for a few years at least, prevented in the House the inﬂammatory debates on these disturbing petitions. It was the great session of their presentation, being offered by hundreds and signed by hundreds of thousands of persons—many of them women, who forgot their sex and their duties to mingle in the inﬂammatory work; and some of them clergymen, who forgot their mission of peace to stir up strife among those who should be brethren. After long and protracted efforts by John Quincy Adams, who was then champion of the abolitionists on the ﬂoor of the House, this restriction upon the right of petition was removed in December, 1845, by a vote of 108 to 80. Among the acts of this statesman in 1839, was the presentation of a resolution that the following amendments to the Constitution of the United States should be proposed to the several States of the Union:— ‘‘1. From and after the 4th July, 1842, there shall be throughout the United States no hereditary slavery; but on and after that day, every child born in the United States, their territory or jurisdiction, shall be born free.’’ ‘‘2. With the exception of the Territory of Florida, there shall henceforth never be admitted into this union any State, the Constitution of which shall tolerate within the same the existence of slavery.’’ ‘‘3. From and after the 4th July, 1845, there shall be neither slavery nor slave trade at the seat of government of the United States.’’

This proposition of course received no favor either North or South, and was speedily laid aside. Subsequently he presented a petition praying for a dissolution of the Union—the ﬁrst of the kind ever offered to the government—whereupon a resolution was submitted to Congress to the effect that Mr. Adams in so doing had offered the deepest indignity to the House and insult to the people of the United States, and that, for thus permitting, through his instrumentality, a wound to be aimed at the Constitution and existence of his country he merited expulsion from the national council and the severest censure. It concluded—‘‘This they hereby do for the maintenance of their own purity and dignity; for the rest, they turn him over to his own conscience and the indignation of all true American citizens.’’ The resolution was discussed for several days, in which Mr. Adams and his antislavery propagandism were handled without gloves; but ﬁnally the whole subject was laid upon the table. Another source of discussion, both in and out of Congress, about this time, was the Texas question. As far back as 1829, the annexation of Texas was agitated in the Southern and Western States, being urged on the ground of the strength and extension it would give to the slaveholding interest. This fact at

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once enlisted opposition from the entire anti-slavery sentiment of the North, in which British abolitionist took part, and every effort was made on the other side of the water to increase the sectional jealousy already known to be exciting. The English press, Parliament and statesmen, all treated the proposed acquisition as one in which they felt called upon to interfere. The famous ‘‘Texan plot,’’ which was matured at the ‘‘World’s Anti-Slavery Convention,’’ held in London in 1840, was one of the results. The part to be performed by the British government embraced a double object. The large territory claimed by Texas was known to contain most of the remaining cotton lands of North America. A virtual control of these lands would, therefore, be invaluable to British commerce. The country was but thinly settled, and the number of slaves was small enough to render emancipation of essay attainment. Thus, if by a timely interposition of her inﬂuence and diplomacy, Great Britain could establish a rival cotton producing country at our very door, and prevent the growth of slavery there, she would partially prevent a growing dependence on the slave products of the United States, and at the same time set up a barrier to the further extension of Southern civilization in that direction. There was but one obstacle in the way. Texas preferred annexation to the United States, and, notwithstanding British assistance, believed to have proffered to Santa Anna in 1842, when he resolved to send an invading army into the territory for the purpose of declaring emancipation, and other objects; notwithstanding the resolutions of Northern Legislatures and acrimonious debates in Congress; notwithstanding every effort, home and foreign, to prevent annexation; through the patriotic efforts to General Jackson, President Tyler, Mr. Calhoun and other statesmen, on the 16th of December, 1845, Texas was admitted into the Union. Though thus defeated in their immediate designs, one point was gained by the friends of anti-slavery. They succeeded in obtaining a position in Congress which enabled them to agitate the whole Union. From that time their power began to increase, until the infection has diseased the great mass of the people of the North, who, whatever may be their opinion of the original abolition party, which still keeps up its distinctive organization, never fail, when it comes to acting, to cooperate in carrying out their measures. The year 1840 was marked by two important events, namely, the formation of a distinct political party of abolitionists, and a division in the two leading anti-slavery societies of the country. The Liberty Party arose from the fact that, after a protracted experiment, the candidates of the old parties could not, to any extent, however questioned or pledged, be depended upon to do the work which the abolitionists demanded of them. Such an organization was advocated by Mr. Garrison as early as 1834; but it was not until the annual meeting of the New York Anti-Slavery Society at Uttica, in September, 1838, that a series of resolutions or a platform was adopted, setting forth the principles of political action, and solemnly pledging those who adopted them to vote for no candidates who were not fully pledged to antislavery measures. In July, 1839, a National Anti-Slavery Convention was held at Albany, and the mode of political action against slavery, including the question of a distinct party, was fully discussed, but without coming to any deﬁnite decision by vote farther than to refer the question of independent nominations to the judgment of abolitionists in their different localities. The Monroe county convention for nominations at Rochester, N.Y., September, 1839, adopted a series of resolutions and an

26. History of American abolitionism

address prepared by Myron Holly, which have been regarded as laying the real cornerstone of the Liberty party. He may, therefore, be regarded, more than any other man, as its founder. In January, 1840, a New York State Anti-Slavery Convention was held in Genesee county. The traveling at that season of the year was bad, and delegates were in attendance from only six States. Among these were Myron Holly and Gerrit Smith. By this convention, a call was issued for a National Convention, and accordingly, April 1, 1840, it assembled at Albany—Alvan Stuart presiding. After a full discussion, the Liberty party was organized, and James J. Birney and Thomas Earle were nominated for President and Vice President of the United States. At the Presidential election in the autumn of that year, the entire vote of the Liberty party amounted to 7,059. In 1844, the Liberty candidates, James G. Birney and Thomas Morris, received 62,399 votes. These, however, were but a small part of the professed abolitionists of the United States, the great majority voting for the nominees of the old parties—Harrison, Van Buren, Polk and Clay. The other event of the year 1840, to which we have alluded, was the division in the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society in Boston, and a division in the American Anti-Slavery Society of New York, the causes in each case being more or less identiﬁed with each other. Without going into the subject, it may be brieﬂy stated that the principal cause in both instances was a difference of opinion on theological jealousies. The most rabid among the abolitionists have been inﬁdels, or little less, from the start, and have absorbed every species of fanaticism, in whatever shape it has appeared since. Another question resulting in the division appears to have been ‘‘Woman’s Rights,’’ or, in other words, what position females ought to occupy in the society. As early as 1835, these moral hermaphrodites were in the habit of delivering public lectures and scattering publications through the land; but their wagging tongues ﬁnally became such a nuisance that several clergymen published a pastoral letter in 1837, strongly censuring all such unwomanly interference. The result was, as has been stated, great excitement and a subsequent separation of the respective opponents. Shortly after this division, we ﬁnd the American Anti-Slavery Society, at one of its annual meetings, raising the ﬂag of ‘‘No Union with Slaveholders,’’ demanding a dissolution of the Union, and denouncing the federal constitution as pro-slavery— ‘‘a covenant with death and an agreement with hell.’’ To resume the history of the progress of the party. In 1835, a State Convention of abolitionists was held at Port Byron, New York, at which an address was presented embodying the views of a number of individuals, who, while they were abolitionists at heart, were not rabid or ultra enough to be prepared to act with the Liberty party. This was printed, circulated, and gained adherents, and upon its basis, in 1847, a convention assembled at Macedon, New York, when Gerrit Smith and Elhu Burrit were nominated for President and Vice President of the United States; but the latter declining, the name of Charles C. Foote was afterwards substitute. This party was known by the name of the Liberty League. Subsequently its principles became merged into the Buffalo platform of 1847. Gerrit Smith was then again proposed as a candidate for the Presidency; but the course of leading men in the convention required the nomination of a different man. Accordingly, Hon. John P. Hale, of New Hampshire—an ‘‘independent democrat,’’ as he termed himself—and Hon. Leicester King, of Ohio, were nominated. This, however, was only temporary;

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and another convention was called, and held at Buffalo, August 9, 1848, composed of ‘‘the opponents to slavery extension, irrespective of parties,’’ and including, of course, all those committed to the one idea of abolition. It was one of the most remarkable political meetings on record, for it was the beginning of the political drama which has since resulted in a dissolution of the Union. Vast multitudes, from all parts of the non- slaveholding States, of all political parties, came together, and seemed to be melted into one by their common zeal against the aggressions of slavery. Though they looked only to the restraint of slavery within the bounds which they claimed our fathers had erected for its protections, still the opposition sprang from the strong anti-slavery sentiment already pervading the country. It was the springing up of the green blade, and the forming of the ear from the many years sowing of the abolitionists. The nomination of Martin Van Buren and Charles Francis Adams, of Massachusetts, was made with great unanimity and enthusiasm, though by a body composed of original elements of the most extreme contrariety. Messrs. Hale and King, as was expected, withdrew their names. The old Liberty party was absorbed in the new organization, whose platform was broad enough to satisfy any reasonable abolitionist. Mass meetings were held in every village to hear the new word, and within a few months an impulse was communicated to the great mass of the Northern mind which has constituted the basis of its action ever since. The number of votes cast for these candidates in 1848 was 291,263. The platform was substantially as follows:—That the people propose no interference by Congress with slavery within the limits of any State; that the federal government has no constitutional power over life, liberty or property without due legal progress; that Congress has no more power to make a slave than to make a king— no more power to establish slavery than to establish a monarchy; that Congress ought to prohibit slavery in all the territories; that the issue of the slave power is accepted—no more slave States and no slave territory; no more compromises; and ﬁnally, the establishment of a free government in California and New Mexico. In 1852, this same party nominated John P. Hale and George W. Julian. The number of votes then cast was 155,825. The platform was much the same as that which preceded it four years before, though more progressive and revolutionary in several of its ideas, one of its clauses being ‘‘that slavery is a sin against God and a crime against man, which no human enactment nor usage can make right, and that Christianity, humanity and patriotism, alike demand its abolition.’’ Another clause was to the effect that the Fugitive Slave law of 1850, being repugnant to the principles of Christianity and the principles of the common law, had no binding force upon the American people. The republican party of 1856 was merely an enlargement or extension of the old free soil organization of the preceding eight years. It was modiﬁed, it is true, by many of the events of the time, but its foundation was laid upon precisely the same principles that had been enunciated during the previous twelve years. It was emphatically a Northern party, extending only here and there by some straggling outposts over the slave boundary. It was so far anti-slavery as to resent the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and oppose the introduction of slavery into new territory. As events progressed, the forces combatting on either side of the great question of the day became more concentrated and determined, and more inspired by a single purpose, until the one idea of anti-slavery became distinctly developed and ﬁrmly ﬁxed in the Northern mind.

26. History of American abolitionism

The Republican Convention assembled at Philadelphia, June 18, 1856, when John C. Fremont and Wm. L. Dayton were nominated for President and Vice President of the United States, and in the following November received 1,341,264 votes. The election for 1869 has only recently terminated in the elevation to the head of the Federal Government of Abraham Lincoln and Hannibal Hamlin, by a purely antislavery vote of 1,865,840. The events which preceded it are too fresh to require repetition; but, for the ﬁrst time in the history of our confederacy, we look upon the spectacle of a sectional party, deﬁant, unyielding and uncompromising, whose principles aim a blow directly at the annihilation of one of the institutions of the South, in the full ﬂush of victory, singing poeans of glory over its success, with a Union dissolving around it, while another portion of the country is agitated to its very center in preparations for self-protection against the usurpations which, from press and pulpit, and ﬂoor of Congress, have been so boldly threatened. Whether as abolition, liberty, free-soil or republican, the party has always shown the cloven hoof, and the best efforts of its more considerate friends have never been able to cover the deformity. Into the masses it has instilled the most unrelenting hatred to slavery, until all other ideas, feelings and passions have, for the time, been swallowed up in this one overwhelming sentiment. It has dissolved the Union, though formed and cemented in the blood of our fathers, rather than it should tolerate an institution which is older than the Union. It has shed the blood of innocent white men while engaged in the discharge of their sworn duty, and made widows and orphans rather than return an escaped servant to his master and obey the Constitution of the country. Such is the spirit which controls this party, by whatever name it may be known. Its leaders, claiming to stand by principle, hug to their bosom the most damning political heresies. Pretending to obey God and reverence the Bible, some of them are the most unblushing inﬁdels, who boldly proclaim that the Sacred Word is not, worth the paper upon which it is printed, unless it denounce slavery and applaud abolitionism of every iniquity. Some of them aspire to be the followers of Jesus, but convert their sacred desks into political rostrums, from which are fulminated the falsest denunciations that a diseased mind can conjure into existence. Claiming to be teachers of religion and peace, they prove the authenticity of their holy commission by exhorting to civil war, making collections for Sharpe’s riﬂes, and playing the role of spiritual demagogues among the falling ruins of the republic. The year 1841 was marked by another attempt at insurrection. On the 22d of July, during a hot night, several negroes were overheard conversing in their quarters, on a plantation, near New Orleans, respecting an insurrection in which they intended to join. An investigation was made the next day, and resulted in tracing out a widely-extended organization among the slaves of the neighborhood, having a general rising in view. This early discovery of the plot of course prevented its consummation, and the execution and punishment of the instigators soon quelled every design of an outbreak. In 1845 we ﬁnd Cassius M. Clay mobbed in Lexington, Ky., and his paper, the True American, stopped, the presses, type, &c., being packed up and forwarded to Cincinnati, for advocating the incendiary doctrines of the abolitionists, and thereby producing an excitement among the slaves, and arousing apprehensions in the community lest they should rise in rebellion against the whites. We have already brought our chronological history down to the year 1845, when Texas was admitted as a State. It was during the progress of annexation that the

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government of Mexico served a formal notice on the United States that annexation would be viewed in the light of a declaration of war. This notice, however, was of little avail, and before the close of the year 1845, Congress had consummated the act. The war broke out in April, 1846, the second year of Mr. Polk’s administration, and on the 11th of May the President issued his proclamation to that effect. A large portion of the western domain of Texas, as now described, was disputed territory, occupied by Mexicans and under Mexican rule at the time of and after annexation. General Taylor was ordered to march from Corpus Christi, and take up his position on the Rio Grande, opposition Matamoras, thus traversing the dispute territory from its eastern to its western border. The Mexican army, on the opposite side of the river, immediately commenced hostilities, and soon after followed the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma. How the war was continued and terminated are matters of general history. Peace was at last dictated to Mexico on the 30th of May, 1848, and resulted in a surrender by her of a large belt of her northern territories, extending from the Rio Grande to the Paciﬁc, including California, though at that time its immense wealth and great importance were not fully appreciated. In Congress and among the people of the North the war was not popular. It was said to be a scheme for the acquirement of more slave territory, and this fact of itself excited contention throughout the land. On the 12th of August, 1846, a bill being under consideration in the Committee of the Whole, making further provision for the expenses attending the intercourse between the United States and Mexico, Mr. David Wilmot, of Pennsylvania, moved the following amendment:— ‘‘Provided, that as an express and fundamental condition to the acquisition of territory from the republic of Mexico, by the United States, by virtue of any treaty which may be negotiated between them, and to the use by the Executive of the moneys herein appropriated, neither slavery nor involuntary servitude shall ever exist in any part of said territory, except for crime, whereof the party shall ﬁrst be duly convicted.’’ This amendment was adopted by a vote of yeas 77, nays 58. The bill was not voted on in the Senate, that body adjourning sine die before it reached that stage. On the 8th of February, the Three Million Bill being under consideration, a similar amendment was offered in the House, and on the 15th was adopted by a vote of 115 yeas and 106 nays. The Senate having passed a similar bill, which came before the House on the 3d of March, 1847, Mr. Wilmot moved to amend the same by adding his proviso thereto; but it was rejected by a vote of yeas 97, nays 102. The Senate bill, without the amendment of Mr. Wilmot, then became a law. This celebrated proviso has been offered, by different senators and representatives, to various bills since. Its popular use, in fact, since that time, constitutes a great chapter in the political history of the country. For a long time it has rung in the ears of the public, and it will never cease until the question of slavery ceases to be a political question in the organization of new Territories and new States. In 1848, Connecticut, which had never passed a law completely abolishing slavery, and which then contained some eight or ten slaves, through her Legislature enacted its total abolition forever, compelling the masters of the few slaves existing to support them for life. The escape of slaves from the South has been one of the principal practical effects of abolition ever since the idea assumed shape, in 1830. Men and women have been found, North and South, who, either from

26. History of American abolitionism

philanthropic motives or under the pecuniary inducements of abolition societies, have aided in their escape. Among these, New England ‘‘schoolmarms’’ and schoolmasters have played an active part, and several were from time to time arrested. One Delia Webster suffered for such an interference with other people’s affairs by an incarceration in the penitentiary at Lexington, Ky., in 1845, for two years. Another, Rev. Charles Torrey, for similar offences, was sentenced to six years in the Maryland penitentiary, but died before the expiration of the sentence. Many other instances of a similar nature might be cited; but these are enough to indicate the extent to which fanaticism carried its followers. The year 1848 was characterized by the usual venom which the anti-slavery societies industriously endeavored to distil into the community. Fred Douglass, Edmund Quincy, Francis Jackson, Abby Kelly, Garrison, Phillips, Pillsbury, Lucy Stone, Theodore Parker, and a retinue of negro orators, escaped slaves and others, regularly held their meetings and indulged in their customary rhodomontades. At the New England Convention, which assembled during this year, a series of one hundred conventions for the purposes of agitating the question of dissolution of the Union was commenced in Massachusetts, and funds were raised for the purpose. Some of these meetings were broken up by indignant mobs, but they were mainly allowed to go on, and accumulated disciples. We have before given a table of the number of slaves in the United States in 1790. It was then 697,696. The following is a similar estimate for the year 1850, as determined by the seventh census: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

New Jersey Delaware Maryland Virginia North Carolina South Carolina Georgia Florida Alabama Mississippi Louisiana Texas Arkansas Tennessee Kentucky Missouri District of Columbia Utah Total

222 2,990 90,368 472,528 .288,548 384,984 386,682 39,309 342,892 .309,878 244,809 58,161 47,100 239,460 210,981 87,422 3,687 26 3,204,347

Adding to this sum thirty percent, a fair estimate of the increase for the last ten years, and we have in 1860, 3,965,651 slaves in the United States, or four millions in round numbers. There were in the United States 347,525 persons owning slaves. Of this number two owned 1,000 each; both resided in South Carolina. Nine only

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owned between 500 and 1,000, of whom two resided in Georgia, four in Louisiana, one in Mississippi. Fifty-six owned from 300 to 500, of whom one resided in Maryland, one in Virginia, three in North Carolina, one in Tennessee, one in Florida, four in Georgia, six in Louisiana, eight in Mississippi, twenty-nine in South Carolina, one hundred and eighty-seven owned from 200 to 300, of whom South Carolina had sixty-nine, Louisiana thirty-six, Georgia twenty-two, Mississippi eighteen, Alabama sixteen, North Carolina twelve, ﬁve other States fourteen, and four States none. Fourteen hundred and seventy-nine owned from 100 to 200. All the slaveholding States, except Florida and Missouri, are represented in this class, Southern Carolina having one-fourth of the whole; 29,733 person owned from ten to twenty slaves each. South Carolina, from this statement, owns more slaves in proportion to her population than any other State in the South. A few general considerations, and we conclude our narrative. After tracing the course of events recorded in the foregoing pages, the questions naturally arise— What has been the result? what have the abolitionists gained? The answers may be brieﬂy summed up as follows: 1. They have put an end to the benevolent schemes of emancipation which originated among the real philanthropists of the South, and were calculated, in a proper time and manner, beneﬁcent to all concerned, to produce the desired result. In their wild and fanatical attempts they have counteracted the very object at which they have aimed. Instead of ameliorating the condition of the slaves, they have only aroused the district of the master, and led to restrictions which did not before exist. The truth is, the lost of the people of the South is not more implicated in that of the slaves than is the lot of the slaves in the people of the South. In their mutual relations, they must survive or perish together. In the language of another, ‘‘The worst foes of the black race are those who have intermeddled in their behalf. By nature, the most affectionate and loyal of all races beneath the sun, they are also the most helpless: and no calamity can befall them greater than the loss of that protection they enjoy under this patriarchal system. Indeed, the experiment has been tried of precipitating them upon a freedom which they know not how to enjoy; and the dismal results are before the world in statistics that may well excite astonishment. With the fairest portions of the earth in their possession, and with the advantage of a long discipline as the cultivators of the soil, their constitutional indolence has converted the most beautiful islands of the sea into howling wastes. It is not too much to say, that if the South should, at this moment, surrender every slave, the wisdom of the entire world, united in solemn council, could not solve the question of their disposal. Freedom would be their doom. Every Southern master knows this truth and feels its power.’’ 2. Touch the negro, and you touch cotton—the mainspring that keeps the machinery of the world in motion. In teaching slaves to entertain wild and dangerous notions of liberty, the abolitionists have thus jeopardized the commerce of the country and the manufacturing interests of the civilized world. They have likewise destroyed conﬁdence. Northern institution are no longer ﬁlled with the young men and women of the South, but ﬁnd rivals springing up in every State south of Mason and Dixon’s line. Northern commerce can no longer depend upon the rich placer of wealth it has hitherto found in Southern patronage. Northern men can no longer travel in the South without being regarded as objects of suspicion and confounded with the abolitionists of their section. In short, all the kind relations that have ever existed between the North and the South have been interrupted, and a barrier erected, which, socially, commercially and politically, has separated the heretofore united interests of the two sections, and which nothing but a revolution in public sentiment, a higher sense of the moral obligations due our neighbor, a religious training, which will graft upon our nature a truer conscience and inculcate a purer charity, and ﬁnally a recognition of abstract right and justice can ever remove.

26. History of American abolitionism 3. They have held out a Canadian Utopia, where they have taught the slaves in their ignorance to believe they can enjoy a life of ease and luxury, and having cut them off from a race of kind masters and separated them from comfortable homes, left the deluded beings incapable of self-support upon an uncongenial soil, to live in a state of bestiality and misery, and die cursing the abolitionists as the authors of their wretchedness. 4. They have led a portion of the people of the North, as well as of the South, to examine the question in all its aspects, and to plant themselves upon the broad principle that that form of government which recognizes the institution of slavery in the United States, is the best, the condition of the two races, white and black being considered, for the development, progress and happiness of each. In other words, to regard servitude as a blessing to the negro, and under proper and philanthropic restrictions, necessary to their preservation and the prosperity of the country. 5. Step by step they have built up a party upon an issue which has led to a dissolution of the Union. They have scattered the seeds of abolitionism until a majority of the voters of the free States have become animated by a ﬁxed purpose not only to prevent the further growth of the slave power, but to beard the lion in his den.

The power of the North has been consolidated, and for the ﬁrst time in the history of the country it is wielded as a sectional weapon against the interests of the South. The government is now in the hands of men elected by Northern votes, who regard slavery as a curse and a crime, and they will have the means necessary to accomplish their purpose. The utterances that have heretofore come from the rostrum or from irresponsible associations of individuals now come from the throne. ‘‘Clad with the sanctities of ofﬁce, with the anointing oil poured upon the monarch’s head, the decree has gone forth that the institution of Southern slavery shall be constrained within assigned limits. Though Nature and Providence should send forth its branches like the banyan tree to take root in congenial soil, here is a power superior to both, that says it shall wither and die within its own charmed circle.’’ If this be not believed, let the following selections from the speeches of the leaders of the Republic party be the proof:— Hon. Charles Sumner, United States Senator from Mass.:— ‘‘This slave oligarchy will soon cease to exist as a political combination. Its ﬁnal doom may be postponed, but it is certain. Languishing, it may live yet longer, but it will surely die. Yes, fellow citizens, surely it will die—when disappointed in its purposes—driven back within the States, and constrained within these limits, it can no longer rule the Republic as a plantation of slaves at home; con no longer menace Territories with its ﬁve- headed device to compel labor without wages; can no longer fasten upon the constitution an interpretation which makes merchandise of men, and gives a disgraceful immunity to the brokers of human ﬂesh, and the butchers of human hears; and when it can no longer grind ﬂesh and blood, groans an sighs, the tears of mothers and the cries of children into the cement of a barbarous political power! Surely then, in its retreat, smarting under the indignation of an aroused people, and the concurring judgment of the civilized world it must die;—it may be, as a poisoned rat dies, of rage in its hole. (Enthusiastic applause.) Meanwhile all good omens are ours. The work cannot stop. Quickened by the triumph, now at hand,—with a Republic President in power, State after State, quoting the condition of a territory, and spurning slavery, will be welcomed into our plural unit, and joining hands together, will become a belt of ﬁre about the slave States, in which slavery must die.’’

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Hon. John Wentworth, Editor of the Chicago Democrat, and Mayor of Chicago:— ‘‘We might as well make up our minds to ﬁght the battle now, as at any other time. It will have to be fought, and the longer the evil day is put off, the more bloody will be the contest when it comes. If we do not place slavery in the process of extinction now, by hemming it in, where it is, and not suffering it to expand, it will extinguish us, and our liberties. ‘‘If the Union be preserved, and if the Federal government be administered for a few years by Republican Presidents, a scheme may be devised, and carried out, which will result in the peaceful, honorable and equitable EMANCIPATION of ALL the SLAVES. ‘‘The States must be made ALL FREE, and if a Republican government is entrusted with the duty of making them FREE, the work will be done without bloodshed, without revolution, without disastrous loss of property. The work will be out of time and patience, but it MUST BE DONE!’’ Hon. Wm. II Seward, Secretary of State (his Rochester speech of Oct. 25, 1858): ‘‘Our country is a theatre which exhibits, in full operation, two radically different political systems—the one resting on the basis of servile or slave labor, the other on the basis of voluntary labor of freemen. ******* ‘‘The two systems are at once perceived to be incongruous. But never have permanently existed together in one country, and they never can. * * *These antagonistic systems are continually coming in closer contact, and collins ensues. ‘‘Shall I tell you what the collision means? It is an irreprehensible conﬂict between opposing and enduring forces, and it means that the United States must, and will, sooner or later, become entirely a slaveholding nation, or entirely a free labor nation. Either the cotton and rice ﬁelds of South Carolina, and the sugar plantations of Louisiana, will ultimately be tiled by free labor, and Charleston and New Orleans become marts for legitimate merchandise alone, or else their ﬁelds and wheat ﬁelds of Massachusetts and New York must again be surrendered by their farmers to the slave culture and to the production of slaves and Boston and New York become once more markets for trade in the bodies and souls of men.’’ At a later period, in the Senate of the United States, the same Senator uttered the following language:— ‘‘A free Republican government like this, notwithstanding all its constitutional checks, cannot long resist and counteract the progress of society. ‘‘Free labor has at last apprehended its rights and its destiny, and is organizing itself to assume the government of the Republic. It will henceforth meet you boldly and resolutely here (Washington); it will meet you everywhere, in the Territories and out of them, wherever you may go to extend slavery. It has driven you back in California and in Kansas, it will invade you soon in Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, Missouri, and Texas. It will meet you in Arizona, in Central America, and even in Cuba. ********** ‘‘You may, indeed, get a start under or near the tropics, and seem safe for a time, but it will be only a short time. Even there you will found States only for free labor to maintain and occupy. The interest of the whole race demands the ultimate emancipation of all men. Whether that consummation shall be allowed to take effect, with needful and wise precautions against sudden change and disaster, or be hurried on by

26. History of American abolitionism

violence, is all that remains for you to decide. The white man needs this continent to labor upon. His head is clear, his arm is strong, and his necessities are ﬁxed. ********** ‘‘It is for yourselves, and not for us, to decide how long and through what further mortiﬁcations and disasters the contest shall be protracted before freedom shall enjoy her already secured triumph. ‘‘You may refuse to yield it now, and for a short period, but your refusal will only animate the friends of freedom with the courage and the resolution, and produce the union among them, which alone is necessary on their part to attain the position itself, simultaneously with the impending overthrow of the existing Federal Administration and the constitution of a new and more independent Congress.’’ Hon. Joshua Giddings, Member of Congress from Ohio:— ‘‘I look forward to the day when there shall be a servile insurrection in the South; when the black man, armed with British bayonets, and led on by British ofﬁcers, shall assert his freedom, and wage a war of extermination against his master; when the torch of the incendiary shall light up the towns and cities of the South, and blot out the last vestige of slavery. And though I may not mock at their calamity, nor laugh when their fear cometh, yet I will hail it as the dawn of a political millennium.’’ Hon. Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States:— ‘‘I believe this government cannot endure permanently, half slave, and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved; I do not expect the house to fall, but I do expect that it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing, or all the other. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest the further spread of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief, that it is in the course of ultimate extinction, or its advocates will push it forward, until it shall become alike lawful in all the States, old as well as new, North as well as South.’’ ‘‘I have always hated slavery as much as any abolitionist. I have always been an old line Whig. I have always hated it, and I always believed it in a course of ultimate extinction. If I were in Congress, and a vote should come up on a question whether slavery should be prohibited in a new territory, in spite of the Dred Scott decision I would vote that it should.’’ These are a few only of the extracts of a similar nature which may be selected from multitudes of speeches that have been delivered by the leading men of the party. The same sentiment, however, runs through them all, and abolition, in one way or another, is not less a doctrine of the Republic party of 1860 than it was of the Liberty party of 1840, to which it owes it birth. ‘‘Abolitionism is clearly its informing and actuating soul; and fanaticism is a blood-hound that never bolts its track when it has once lapped blood. The elevation of their candidate is far from being the consummation of their aims. It is only the beginning of that consummation; and if all history be not a lie, there will be coercion enough till the end of the beginning is reached, and the dreadful banquet of slaughter and ruin shall glut the appetite.’’ And now the end has come. The divided house, which Mr. Lincoln boastfully said would not fall, has fallen. The ruins of the Union are at the feet as well of those who loved and cherished it as of those who labored for its destruction. The Constitution is at length a nullity, and our ﬂag a mockery. Fanaticism, too, must have its apotheosis.

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THE SIX SECEDING STATES The Six Seceding States and date of their Separation—Organization of the Southern Congress—Names of Members—Election of President and Vice President, and Sketch of their Lives—The New Constitution—The City of Montgomery, &c, &c. On Saturday, February 9, 1861, six seceding States of the old Union organized an independent government, adopted a constitution, and elected a President and Vice President. These States passed their respective ordinances of dissolution as follows:— STATE. South Carolina Mississippi Alabama Florida Georgia Louisiana

DATE. Dec. 20, 1860 Jan. 9, 1861 Jan. 11, 1861 Jan. 11, 1861 Jan. 19, 1861 Jan. 25, 1861

YEAS. 84 61 61 208 113

NAYS. 169— 15 39 7 89 17

Only two of the seceding States—South Carolina and Georgia—were original members of the confederacy. The others came in the following order: Louisiana Mississippi Alabama Florida Texas

April 8, 1812 Dec. 10, 1817 Dec. 14, 1819 March 3, 1845 Dec. 29, 1845

The Convention which consummated this event assembled on the 4th of February, at Montgomery, Alabama. Hon. R. M. Barnwell, of South Carolina, being appointed temporary chairman, the Divine blessing was invoked by Rev. Dr. Basil Manly. We give this ﬁrst impressive prayer in the Congress of the new Confederacy below, and further add, as an illustration of the religious earnestness by which the delegates were one and all animated, that the ministers of Montgomery were invited to open the deliberations each day with invocations to the Throne of Grace: Oh, Thou God of the Universe, Thou madest all things; Thou madest man upon the earth; Thou hast endowed him with reason and capacity for government. We thank Thee that Thou hast made us at this late period of the world, and in this fair portion of the earth, and hast established a free government and a pure form of religion amongst us. We thank Thee for all the hallowed memories connected with our past history. Thou hast been the God of our fathers; oh, be Thou our God. Let it please Thee to vouchsafe Thy sacred presence to this assembly. Oh, Our Father, we appeal to Thee, the searcher of hearts, for the purity and sincerity of our motives. If we are in violation of any compact still obligatory upon us with those States from which we have separated in order to set up a new government—if we are acting in

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rebellion to and in contravention of piety towards God and good faith to our fellow man, we cannot hope for They presence and blessing. But oh, Thou heart searching God, we trust that Thou seest we are pursuing those rights which were guaranteed to us by the solemn covenants of our fathers and which were cemented by their blood. And now humbly recognise Thy hand in the Providence which has brought us together. We pray Thee to give the spirit of wisdom to Thy servants, with all necessary grace, that they may act with deliberation and purpose, and that they will wisely adopt such measures in this trying condition of our affairs as shall redound to Thy glory and the good of our country. So direct them that they may merge the just for spoil and the desire for ofﬁce into the patriotic desire for the welfare of this great people. Oh God, assist them to preserve our republican form of government and the purity of the forms of religion, without interference with the strongest form of civil government. May God in tender mercy bestow upon the deputies here assembled health and strength of body, together with calmness and soundness of mind; may they aim directly at the glory of God and the welfare of the whole people, and when the hour of trial which may supervise shall come, enable them to stand ﬁrm in the exercise of truth, with great prudence and a just regard for the sovereign rights of their constituents. Oh, God, grant that the union of these States, and all that reign rights of their constituents. Oh, God grant that the union of these States, and all that may come into this union, may endure as long as the sun and moon shall last, and until the Son of Man shall come a second time to judge the world in righteousness. Preside over this body in its organization and in the distribution of its ofﬁces. Let truth and justice, and equal rights be secured to our government. And now, Our Father in Heaven, we acknowledge Thee as Our God—do Thou rule in us, do Thou sway us, do Thou control us, and let the blessings of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit rest upon this assembly now and forever. Amen. A. R. Lamar, Esq., of Georgia, was then appointed temporary secretary, and the deputies from the several seceding States represented presented their credentials in alphabetical order, and signed their names to the roll of the Convention. The following is the list: ALABAMA R. W. Walker, R. H. Smith, J. L. M. Curry, W. P. Chiton, S. F. Hale Colon, J. McRae, John Gill Shortor, David P. Lewis, Thomas Fearn. FLORIDA James B. Owens, J. Patten Anderson, Jackson Morton, (not present)

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Voices of the African American Experience GEORGIA Robert Toombe, Howell Cobb, F.S. Bartow, M. J. Crawford, E. A. Nisbet, B. H. Hill, A. R. Wright, Thomas R.R. Cobb, A. H. Kenan, A. H. Stephens.

LOUISIANA John Perkins, Jr., A. Declonet, Charles M. Conrad, D. F. Kenner, G. E. Sparrow, Henry Marshall.

MISSISSIPPI W. P. Harris, Walter Brooke, N. S. Wilson, A. M. Clayton, W. S. Barry, J. T. Harrison.

SOUTH CAROLINA R. B. Rhett. R. W. Barnwell, L. M. Keitt, James Chesnut, Jr. C. G. Memminger, W. Porcher Miles, Thomas J. Withers, W. W. Boyce.

The following description is from a Southern paper: ‘‘On the extreme left, as the visitor enters the Hall, may be seen a list of the names of the gallant corps constituting the Palmetto regiment of South Carolina, so distinguished in the history of the Mexican War; next to that is an impressive representation of Washington delivering his inaugural address; and still farther to the left,

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a picture of South Carolina’s ever memorable statesman, John C. Calhoun; and next to that, an excellent portrait of Albert J. Pickett, ‘‘the historian of Alabama.’’ Just to the right of the President’s desk is the portrait of Dixon H. Lewis, a representative in Congress from Alabama for a number of years. Immediately over the President’s desk is the portrait of the immortal General George Washington, painted by Stuart. There are a few facts connected with the history of this portrait which are, perhaps, deserving of special mention. It was given by Mrs. Curtis to General Benjamin Smith, of North Carolina. At the sale of his estate it was purchased by Mr. Moore, who presented it to Mrs. E. E Clitherall (mother of Judge A. B. Cliterall, of Pickens), in whose possession it has been for forty years. It is one of the three original portraits of General Washington now in existence. A second one, pained by Trumbull, is in the White House at Washington, and is the identical portrait that Mrs. Madison cut out of the frame when the British attacked Washington in 1812. The third is in the possession of a gentleman in Boston, Massachusetts. Next to the portrait of Washington is that of the Old Hero, Andrew Jackson; next in order is an excellent one of Alabama’s distinguished son, Honorable W. L. Yancey; and next, a picture of the great orator and statesman, Henry Clay; and next to that, a historical representation of the swamp encampment scene of General Marion, when he invited the British ofﬁcer to partake of his scanty fare; and on the extreme right of the door, entering into the Hall, is another picture of General Washington, beautifully and artistically wrought upon canvas by some fair hand.’’ The deputies having handed in their credentials, on motion of Mr. Rhett, of South Carolina, Honorable Howell Cobb, of Georgia, was chosen President of the Convention, and Mr. J. J. Hooper, Secretary. This permanently organized, the Convention proceeded with the usual routine of business. A committee was appointed to report a plan for the Provisional Government upon the basis of the Constitution of the United States, and after remaining in secret session the greater part of the time for ﬁve days, the ‘‘Congress’’—the word ‘‘Convention’’ being entirely ignored on motion of Honorable A. H. Stephens, of Georgia—at half past ten o’clock, on the night of February 8, unanimously adopted a provisional constitution similar in the main to the constitution of the old Union. The vital points of difference are the following:—1. The importation of African negroes from any foreign country other than the slaveholding States of the Confederated States is hereby forbidden, and Congress is required to pass such laws as shall effectually prevent the same. 2. Congress shall also have power to prohibit the introduction of slaves from any State not a member of this Confederacy. The Congress shall have power—1. To lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts, and excises, for revenue necessary to pay the debts and carry on the government of the Confederacy, and all duties, imposts, and excises shall be uniform throughout the Confederacy. A slave in one State escaping to another shall be delivered up on the claim of the party to whom said slave may belong by the Executive authority of the State in which such slave may be found; and any case of any abduction or forcible rescue full compensation, including the value of slave, and all costs and expenses, shall be made to the party by the State in which such abduction or rescue shall take place. 2. The government hereby instituted shall take immediate steps for the settlement of all matters between the States forming it and their late confederates of the United States in relation to the public property and public debt at the time of their withdrawal from them,

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these States hereby declaring it to be their wish and earnest desire to adjust everything pertaining to the common property, common liabilities, and common obligations of that Union upon principles of right, justice, equity and good faith. In several other features the new constitution differs from the original. The old one commences with the words—‘‘We the people of the United States,’’ &c. The new—‘‘We the deputies of the sovereign and independent States of South Carolina,’’ &c, thus distinctly indicating their sovereign and independent character, and yet their mutual reliance. Again, the new constitution reverentially invokes ‘‘the favor of Almighty God.’’ In the old, the existence of a Supreme Being appears to have been entirely ignored. In the original, not only was the word ‘‘slave’’ omitted, but even the idea was so studiously avoided as to raise grave questions concerning the intent of the several clauses in which the ‘‘institution’’ is a subject of legislation, while in the new, the word ‘‘slaves’’ is boldly inserted, and the intention of its framers so clearly deﬁned with reference to them that there is hardly a possibility of misapprehension. Again, contrary to the expectation of the majority of the Northern people, who have persistently urged that the object of the South in establishing a separate government was to re-open the African slave trade, the most stringent measures are to be adopted for its suppression. All this was done with a unanimity which indicated the harmony of sentiment that prevailed among the people of the seceding States, and among the delegates by whom they were represented in the Southern Congress. The constitution having been adopted, the sixth day’s proceedings of the Southern Congress, on Saturday, February 9, were characterized by unusual interest, the galleries being crowded with anxious and enthusiastic spectators. During the preliminary business several model ﬂags were presented for consideration—one being from the ladies of South Carolina; and a committee was appointed to report on a ﬂag, a seal, a coat of arms and a motto for the Southern confederacy. There were likewise appointed committees on foreign affairs, on ﬁnance, on military and naval affairs, on postal affairs, on commerce and on patents. The Congress then proceeded to the election of a President and Vice President of the Southern confederacy, which resulted, by a unanimous vote, as follows:— President—Honorable Jefferson Davis, of Mississippi. Vice President—Honorable Alexander H. Stephens, of Georgia. This announcement was received with the grandest demonstrations of enthusiasm. One hundred guns were ﬁred in the city of Montgomery in honor of the event, and in the evening a serenade was given to the Vice President elect, to which he eloquently responded. Messrs. Chesnut and Keitt, of South Carolina, and Conrad, of Louisiana, likewise made appropriate speeches. A resolution was adopted in Congress appointing a committee of three Alabama deputies to make arrangements to secure the use of suitable buildings for the use of the several executive departments of the Confederacy. An ordinance was also passed, continuing in force, until repealed or altered by the Southern Confederacy, all laws of the United States in force or use on the ﬁrst of November last. The Committee on Finance were likewise instructed to report promptly a tariff for raising revenue for the support of the government. Under this law a tariff has

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been laid on all goods brought from the United States. The appointment of a committee was also authorized for the purpose of reporting a constitution for the permanent government of the Confederacy. These are some of the measures thus far adopted by the new government. The legislation has been prompt, unanimous, and adapted to the exigency of the moment, and there is little doubt that when all the necessary laws have been passed, a strong, healthy, and wealthy confederation will be in the full tide of successful experiment. The Southern Cabinet is composed of the following gentlemen:— Secretary of State Robert Toombs Secretary of Treasury C. S. Memminger Secretary of Interior Vacancy Secretary of War I. P. Walker Secretary of Navy John Perkins, Jr. Postmaster General H. T. Ebett Attorney General J. P. Benjamin Few men have led a life more ﬁlled with stirring or eventful incidents than Jefferson Davis. A native of Kentucky, born about 1806, he went in early youth with his father to Mississippi, then a Territory, and was appointed by President Monroe in 1822 to be a cadet at West Point. He graduated with the ﬁrst honors in 1828 as Brevet Second Lieutenant, and at his own request was placed in active service, being assigned to the command of General (then Colonel) Zachary Taylor, who was stationed in the West. In the frontier wars of the time young Davis distinguished himself in so marked a manner that when a new regiment of dragoons was formed he at once obtained a commission as ﬁrst lieutenant. During this time a romantic attachment sprang up between him and his prisoner, the famous chief Black Hawk, in which the latter forgot his animosity to the people of the United States in his admiration for Lieutenant Davis, and not until his death was the bond of amity severed between the two brave men. In 1835 he settled quietly down upon a cotton plantation, devoting himself to a thorough and systematic course of political and scientiﬁc education. He was married to a daughter of Gen. Taylor. In 1843 he took the stump for Polk, and in 1845, having attracted no little attention in his State by his vigor and ability, he was elected to Congress. Ten days after he made his maiden speech. Soon the Mexican war broke out, and a regiment of volunteers having been formed in Mississippi, and himself chosen Colonel, he resigned his post in Congress, and instantly repaired with his command to join the corps d’armee under General Taylor. At Monterey and Buena Vista he and his noble regiment achieved the soldiers’ highest fame. Twice by his coolness he saved the day at Buena Vista. Wherever ﬁre was hottest or danger to be encountered, there Colonel Davis and the Mississippi Riﬂes were to be found. He was badly wounded in the early part of the action, but sat his horse steadily till the day was won, and refused to delegate even a portion of his duties to his subordinate ofﬁcers. In 1848 he was appointed to ﬁll the vacancy in the Senate of the United States occasioned by the death of General Speight, and in 1850 was elected to that body almost unanimously for the term of six years. In 1851 he resigned his seat in the Senate to become the State Rights candidate for Governor, but was defeated by Governor Foote.

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In 1853 he was called to a seat in the Cabinet of President Pierce, and was Secretary of War during his administration. In 1857 he was elected United States Senator from Mississippi for the term of six years, which ofﬁce he held until his resignation on the secession of Mississippi from the Union. Personally, he is the last man who would be selected as a ‘‘ﬁre-eater.’’ he is a prim, smooth looking man, with a precise manner, a stiff, soldierly carriage and an austerity that is at ﬁrst forbidding. He has naturally, however, a genial temper, companionable qualities and a disposition that endears him to all by whom he may be surrounded. As a speaker he is clear, forcible and argumentative; his voice is clear and ﬁrm, without tremor, and he is one in every way ﬁtted for the distinguished post to which he has been called. This gentleman is known throughout the Union as one of the most prominent of Southern politicians and eloquent orators. His father, Andrew B. Stephens, was a planter of moderate means, and his mother (Margaret Grier) was a sister to the famous compiler of Grier’s almanacs. She died when he was an infant, leaving him with four brothers and one sister, of whom only one brother survives. Mr. Stephens was born in Georgia on the 11th of February, 1812. When in his fourteenth year his father died, and the homestead being sold, his share of the entire estate was about ﬁve hundred dollars. With a commendable Anglo- Saxon love of his ancestry Mr. Stephens has since repurchased the original estate, which comprised about two hundred and ﬁfty acres, and has added to it about six hundred more. Assisted by friends he entered the University of Georgia in 1828, and in 1832 graduated at the head of his class. In 1834 he commenced the study of the law, and in less than twelve months was engaged in one of the most important cases in the country. His eloquence has ever had a powerful effect upon juries, enforcing, as it does, arguments of admirable simplicity and legal weight. From 1837 to 1840 he was a member of the Georgia Legislature. In 1842 he was elected to the State Senate, and in 1843 was elected to Congress. He was a member of the whig party in its palmiest days, but since its dissolution has acted with the men of the South, and such has been the upright, steadfast and patriotic policy he had pursued, that no one in the present era of faction, selﬁshness or suspicion has whispered an accusation of selﬁsh motives or degrading intrigues against him. In the House he served prominently on the most important committees, and effected the passage of the Kansas-Nebraska bill through the House at a time when its warmest friends despaired of success. He was subsequently appointed chairman of the Committee on Territories, and was also chairman of the special committee to which was referred the Lecompton constitution. By his patriotic course of various measures, he has, from time to time, excited the ire of many of the Southern people, but he has always succeeded in coming out of the contest with ﬂying colors, and his recent elevation is a mark of the profound respect entertained for his qualities as a man and a statesman. Mr. Stephens is most distinguished as an orator, though he does not look like one who can command the attention of the House at any time or upon any topic. His health from childhood has been very feeble, being afﬂicted with four abscesses and a continued derangement of the liver, which gives him a consumptive appearance though his lungs are sound. He has never weighed over ninety-six pounds, and to see his attenuated ﬁgure bent over his desk, the shoulders contracted and the shape of his slender limbs visible through his garments, a stranger would never select

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him as the ‘‘John Randolph’’ of our time, more dreaded as an adversary and more prized as an ally in a debate than any other member of the House of Representatives. When speaking he has at ﬁrst a shrill, sharp voice, but as he warms up with his subject the clear tones and vigorous sentences roll out with a sonorousness that ﬁnds its way to every corner of the immense hall. He is witty, rhetorical and solid, and has a dash of keen satire that puts an edge upon every speech. He is a careful student, but so very careful that no trace of study is perceptible as he dashes along in a ﬂow of facts, arguments and language that to common minds is almost bewildering. Possessing hosts of warm friends who are proud of his regard, and enlightened Christian virtue and inﬂexible integrity, such is Alexander H. Stephens, the Vice President elect of the Southern confederacy. The city of Montgomery, the capital of Alabama, has assumed such a sudden importance as the capital of the Southern Confederacy and the seat of the federal operations of the new government, that we give below a brief sketch of its locality and surroundings. It is situated on the left bank of the Alabama River, 331 miles by water from Mobile, and 830 miles from Washington, D.C. It is the second city in the State in respect to trade and population, and is one of the most ﬂourishing inland towns of the Southern States, possessing great facilities for communications with the surrounding country. For steamboat navigation the Alabama River is one of the best in the Union, the largest steamers ascending to this point from Mobile. The city is also the western termination of the Montgomery and West Point Railroad. It contains several extensive iron foundries, mills, factories, large warehouses, numerous elegant stores and private residences. The cotton shipped at this place annually amounts to about one hundred thousand bales. The public records were removed from Tuscaloosa to Montgomery in November, 1847. The State House was destroyed by ﬁre in 1849, and another one was erected on the same site in 1851. The present population of the city is not far from 16,000, and it is probable that, with all its natural advantages, the fact of its present selection as the Southern capital, will soon place it in the ﬁrst rank of Southern cities. The united front and united action of the six States which have thus formed themselves into the pioneer guard, as it were, of the remaining nine, is an earnest that no one of them, in its sovereign capacity, will undertake a conﬂict with the old United States without the assent of its brethren. What they have thus far done ‘‘in Congress assembled,’’ they have done soberly and after mature consideration; and in their past action we may ﬁnd assurance that no future movements will be undertaken—especially those of a nature likely to involve them in a civil war—without equal deliberation, calmness, and a just regard for the common welfare. If there should be, it will be the fault of the aggressive policy of some of the Legislatures of the North. It will be observed that, notwithstanding Texas had already passed the ordinance of secession, as that act had not yet been endorsed by the people, at the time of the sitting of the Convention, she was not regarded as one of the new confederacy, and consequently was unrepresented. North Carolina also sent three Commissioners to deliberate with the delegates of the seceding States—namely, Messrs. D. I. Swain, J. L. Bridgers and M. W. Ransom. The entire movement bears upon its face all the marks of a well developed, well digested plan of government—a government now as independent as were the old thirteen States after the Fourth of July, 1776, and possessing what our ancestors of

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that date did not fully have—the wealth, ability and power to meet almost any contingency that may arise. Meanwhile, judging from the disposition of republicans in Congress and throughout the country, the ball thus set in motion will not stop. The States already united will undoubtedly remain so, and form the nucleus around which will gather others. The new Union will grow in strength as it grows in age. According to our recent intelligence from England and France, these two nations will rival each other in endeavoring to ﬁrst secure the favor of the new Power. With them cotton will be the successful diplomat. Ministers and agents will be appointed, postal facilities will be rearranged, a new navy will spring into existence, prosperity will begin to pour into the newly opened lap, and we shall witness at our very side the success of a people who, by the pertinacity of the selﬁsh political leaders and the political domination of the North, have been driven to measures of defence which are destined to redound to their beneﬁt, but to our cost and national shame. New York Herald, Feb. 11, 1861. Source: Originally published in the New York Herald. New York: D. Appleton & co., 1861. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A. P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

27. George Wils to Writer’s Sister, March 18, 1861 In this letter, a black man named George Wils writes to his sister to inform her of his political beliefs. He reveals he has an elitist, superior attitude as an educated black man living in the South in the days before the Civil War. Mosey Creek Academy Virginia March 18th 1861 My Dear Sister I read yours dated the 13th I had almost concluded that did not intend to write to me anymore or at least you waited very long & then when it came it was only a short note. You must write longer letters (than) you have been in the habit of doing. every one of my correspondents write longer letters than you, with the acception of one or two, So Miss Kattie has left old Woodstock perhaps never to return, to the old place where she has so often enjoyed herself and where she made one person (at least) a happy being, but it may turn out the reverse and it may be said she made him miserable instead of happy. I hope not. They certainly have my best wishes. Miss Sallie I suppose spoke in the [unclear: bigest ] terms of [unclear: milton] , and is still in love with him. I think he must be a very nice boy from what I can learn, and is worthy of the love she gives him, but I think he must beware of me or I might spoil his calculations especially if we all get to Texas to gether , which I hope we will. I am almost conﬁdent that I will be there in less than twelve months [unclear: From] this time, I want to wether [unclear: Pee] goes or not, for I am asshamed of Va. I don’t desire to call her my home I shun the very idea of submitting to Black Republican party, who desire to place the insigniﬁcant negro on an equality with us, who will submit none but those who at heart if they would but express themselves are partial to the North I fear Va has too many of them in Convention, how glad I was when I saw that Va wished to present an ordinance of secession to the convention. I thought then if they were all like him we would this moment be honored & loved by our seceding Southern Sisters, who now almost as it were despise us. I am ready at any time to join the southern army although I am not prepared to die but [unclear: this] I know Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori

28. ‘‘Fighting Rebels with Only One Hand,’’ Douglass’ Monthly [The North Star], September 1861 171

I am sorry to learn that Cousin Pet is going to leave I was in hopes that she was going to stay until I came home and in all possibility would be married. I dont think she ought to go back to Ohio such a mean tale, but I am of your opinion that she will not stay long; but then the [unclear: Dr] is so very ﬁckle. I can scarcely trust him he must certainly be in earnest this time, Nothing surprised me more then to hear of the death of Uncle [unclear: Hen, Clower] , he was the last person that I expected hear was dead but we know not the hour when we shall be called to give a ﬁnal account of ourselves, and oh! how many are unprepared to meet the doom & how the words (depart from me [illeg.] [unclear: crossed] [missing section] I think [missing section] Confederacy [missing section] What [missing section] speak to Miss Mary, he often told me he never would speak to [unclear: her] Pass the [unclear: neumurous ] [unclear: ﬂundes] over. my love to all home Folks also to Tom [unclear: Prach] tell him I am going to leave this state soon write soon to your fondly attached Brother George Source: Augusta County, Virginia, March 18, 1861. The Valley of the Shadow: Two Communities in the American Civil War, Virginia Center for Digital History, University of Virginia (http:valley.vcdh.virginia.edu).

28. ‘‘Fighting Rebels with Only One Hand,’’ Douglass’ Monthly [The North Star], September 1861 In 1861, abolitionist Frederick Douglass wrote one of many newspaper editorials criticizing the United States and its people, suggesting that the government and its people must somehow ‘‘covet the world’s ridicule’’ at the same time the nation was rapidly racing to its own demise socially and politically. ‘‘What are they thinking about, or don’t they condescend to think at all?’’ the abolitionist asked. As always, Douglass was campaigning against the longstanding acceptance and tolerance of slavery. Washington, the seat of Government, after ten thousand assurances to the contrary, is now positively in danger of falling before the rebel army. Maryland, a little while ago considered safe for the Union, is now admitted to be studded with the materials for insurrection, and which may ﬂame forth at any moment.—Every resource of the nation, whether of men or money, whether of wisdom or strength, could be well employed to avert the impending ruin. Yet most evidently the demands of the hour are not comprehended by the Cabinet or the crowd. Our Presidents, Governors, Generals and Secretaries are calling, with almost frantic vehemance, for men.—‘‘Men! men! send us men!’’ they scream, or the cause of the Union is gone, the life of a great nation is ruthlessly sacriﬁced, and the hopes of a great nation go out in darkness; and yet these very ofﬁcers, representing the people and Government, steadily and persistently refuse to receive the very class of men which have a deeper interest in the defeat and humiliation of the rebels, than all others.—Men are wanted in Missouri—wanted in Western Virginia, to hold and defend what has been already gained; they are wanted in Texas, and all along the sea coast, and though the Government has at its command a class in the country deeply interested in suppressing the insurrection, it sternly refuses to summon from among the vast multitude a single man, and degrades and insults the whole class by refusing to allow any of their number to defend with their strong arms and brave

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hearts the national cause. What a spectacle of blind, unreasoning prejudice and pusillanimity is this! The national ediﬁce is on ﬁre. Every man who can carry a bucket of water, or remove a brick, is wanted; but those who have the care of the building, having a profound respect for the feeling of the national burglars who set the building on ﬁre, are determined that the ﬂames shall only be extinguished by IndoCaucasian hands, and to have the building burnt rather than save it by means of any other. Such is the pride, the stupid prejudice and folly that rules the hour. Why does the Government reject the Negro? Is he not a man? Can he not wield a sword, ﬁre a gun, march and countermarch, and obey orders like any other? Is there the least reason to believe that a regiment of well-drilled Negroes would deport themselves less soldier-like on the battleﬁeld than the raw troops gathered up generally from the towns and cities of the State of New York? We do believe that such soldiers, if allowed to take up arms in defense of the Government, and made to feel that they are hereafter to be recognized as persons having rights, would set the highest example of order and general good behavior to their fellow soldiers, and in every way add to the national power. If persons so humble as we can be allowed to speak to the President of the United States, we should ask him if this dark and terrible hour of the nation’s extremity is a time for consulting a mere vulgar and unnatural prejudice? We should ask him if national preservation and necessity were not better guides in this emergency than either the tastes of the rebels, or the pride and prejudices of the vulgar? We would tell him that General Jackson in a slave state fought side by side with Negroes at New Orleans, and like a true man, despising meanness, he bore testimony to their bravery at the close of the war. We would tell him that colored men in Rhode Island and Connecticut performed their full share in the war of the Revolution, and that men of the same color, such as the noble Shields Green, Nathaniel Turner and Denmark Vesey stand ready to peril everything at the command of the Government. We would tell him that this is no time to ﬁght with one hand, when both are needed; that this is no time to ﬁght only with your white hand, and allow your black hand to remain tied. Whatever may be the folly and absurdity of the North, the South at least is true and wise. The Southern papers no longer indulge in the vulgar expression, ‘‘free n——rs.’’ That class of bipeds are now called ‘‘colored residents.’’ The Charleston papers say: ‘‘The colored residents of this city can challenge comparison with their class, in any city or town, in loyalty or devotion to the cause of the South. Many of them individually, and without ostentation, have been contributing liberally, and on Wednesday evening, the 7th inst., a very large meeting was held by them, and a committee appointed to provide for more efﬁcient aid. The proceedings of the meeting will appear in results hereinafter to be reported.’’ It is now pretty well established, that there are at the present moment many colored men in the Confederate army doing duty not only as cooks, servants and laborers, but as real soldiers, having muskets on their shoulders, and bullets in their pockets, ready to shoot down loyal troops, and do all that soldiers may to destroy the Federal Government and build up that of the traitors and rebels. There were such soldiers at Manassas, and they are probably there still. There is a Negro in the army as well as in the fence, and our Government is likely to ﬁnd it out before the war comes to an end. That the Negroes are numerous in the rebel army, and do for

29. Excerpt from The Gullah Proverbs of 1861, Down by the Riverside 173

that army its heaviest work, is beyond question. They have been the chief laborers upon those temporary defenses in which the rebels have been able to mow down our men. Negroes helped to build the batteries at Charleston. They relieve their gentlemanly and military masters from the stiffening drudgery of the camp, and devote them to the nimble and dexterous use of arms. Rising above vulgar prejudice, the slaveholding rebel accepts the aid of the black man as readily as that of any other. If a bad cause can do this, why should a good cause be less wisely conducted? We insist upon it, that one black regiment in such a war as this is, without being any more brave and orderly, would be worth to the Government more than two of any other; and that, while the Government continues to refuse the aid of colored men, thus alienating them from the national cause, and giving the rebels the advantage of them, it will not deserve better fortunes than it has thus far experienced.—Men in earnest don’t ﬁght with one hand, when they might ﬁght with two, and a man drowning would not refuse to be saved even by a colored hand. Source: Philip S. Foner, The Life and Writings of Frederick Douglass, Vol.III p.152. International Publishers Co. Inc.: New York, 1950. Permission of International Publishers/New York.

29. Excerpt from The Gullah Proverbs of 1861, Down by the Riverside: A South Carolina Slave Community CHARLES JOYNER The Gullah are African Americans whose distinct language and culture was developed in the Low Country regions of North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and parts of Florida. They include the coastal plain and the Sea Islands off the coasts of these states. Historically, the Gullah region once extended north to the Cape Fear area on the coast of North Carolina and south to the vicinity of Jacksonville on the coast of Florida; but by 2007, the Gullah area was conﬁned to the South Carolina (Port Royal and Hilton Head regions) and Georgia Low Country. The Gullah people are also called Geechee, especially in Georgia. When the U.S. Civil War began, the Union rushed to blockade Confederate shipping. White planters on the Sea Islands, fearing an invasion by the U.S. naval forces, abandoned their plantations and ﬂed to the mainland. When Union forces arrived on the Sea Islands in 1861, they found the Gullah people eager for their freedom, and eager as well to defend it. Many Gullahs served with distinction in the Union Army’s First South Carolina Volunteers. The Sea Islands were the ﬁrst place in the South where slaves were freed, including places such as Port Royal and Hilton Head long before the war ended, Quaker missionaries from Pennsylvania came down to start schools for the newly freed slaves. Penn Center, now a Gullah community organization on Saint Helena Island, South Carolina, began as the very ﬁrst school for freed slaves. The Gullah are known for preserving more of their African linguistic and cultural heritage than any other black community in the United States. They speak an Englishbased Creole language containing many African loanwords and signiﬁcant inﬂuences from African languages in grammar and sentence structure. The Gullah language is related to Jamaican Creole, Bahamian Dialect, and the Krio language of Sierra Leone in West Africa. Gullah storytelling, foodways, music, folk beliefs, crafts, farming and ﬁshing traditions, etc., all exhibit strong inﬂuences from African cultures.

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GULLAH PROVERBS Promisin’ talk don’ cook rice. Empty sack can’t stand upright alone. Most kill bird don’t make stew. (An almost killed bird doesn’t make stew.) Onpossible to get straight wood from crooked timber. (It’s impossible to get straight wood from crooked timber.) Every frog praise its own pond if it dry. Most hook ﬁsh don’t help dry hominy. (An almost hooked ﬁsh doesn’t improve the taste of dry hominy.) Most kill bird don’t make stew. (Almost killed birds don’t make a stew.) Chip don’t fall far from the block. One clean sheet can’ soil another. (A clean sheet cannot soil another.) It takes a thief to catch a thief. Det wan ditch you ain’ fuh jump. (Death is one ditch you cannot jump.) There are more ways to kill a dog than to choke him with butter. Put yuh bess foot fo moss. (Put your best foot foremost.) Burn child dread ﬁre. (A burned child dreads ﬁre.) Eby back is ﬁtted to de bu’den. (Every back is ﬁtted to the burden.) Er good run bettuh dan uh bad stan. ( A good run is better than a bad stand.) Heart don’t mean ever thing mouth say. (The heart doesn’t mean everything the mouth says.) Ef you hol’ you mad e would kill eby glad. (If you hold your anger, it will kill all your happiness.) Source: Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1984.

30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal, report of E. L. Pierce, to the Hon. Salmon P. Chase, U.S. Secretary of the Treasury, 1862 In 1861, the federal government decided to attack the Confederacy in the deep South with a Union ﬂeet of about 60 ships and 20,000 men. They sailed from Fortress Monroe at Hampton Roads, Virginia, on October 29, 1861. They arrived off the coast of Beaufort, South Carolina, on November 3. Fleet forces were under the command of Admiral S. F. DuPont and the Expeditionary Corps troops were under the direction of General T. W. Sherman. The attack on the Confederate Forts Walker (on Hilton Head) and Beauregard (at Bay Point on St. Phillips Island) began on the morning of November 7. By 3 P.M. that afternoon the Union ﬂeet had ﬁred nearly 3,000 shots at the two forts and the Confederate forces retreated, leaving the Beaufort area to Union forces. This battle was the beginning step Sea Island blacks would take down the long road to freedom. For many slaves in the Port Royal area, the fall of Hilton Head was the single greatest event in their lives. The Civil War changed the lives of both planters and slaves on Hilton Head Island. Gradually a plan was formulated for the education, welfare, and employment of the blacks, combining both government and missionary efforts. The Department of the South, headquartered on Hilton Head Island, became a ‘‘Department of

30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal 175

Experiments,’’ conducting what a modern historian has called a ‘‘dress rehearsal for Reconstruction’’ and is often called the ‘‘Port Royal Experiment.’’ THE NEGROES AT PORT ROYAL: Dear Sir, ‘My ﬁrst communication to you was mailed on the third day after my arrival. The same day, I mailed two letters to benevolent persons in Boston, mentioned in my previous communications to you, asking for contributions of clothing, and for a teacher or missionary to be sent, to be supported by the charity of those interested in the movement, to both of which favorable answers have been received. The same day, I commenced a tour of the largest islands, and ever since have been diligently engaged in anxious examinations of the modes of culture—the amount and proportions of the products—the labor required for them-the life and disposition of the laborers upon them—their estimated numbers—the treatment they have received from their former masters, both as to the labor required of them, the provisions and clothing allowed to them, and the discipline imposed their habits, capacities, and desires, with special reference to their being ﬁtted for useful citizenship—and generally whatever concerned the well-being, present and future, of the territory and its people. Visits have also been made to the communities collected at Hilton Head and Beaufort, and conferences held with the authorities, both naval and military, and other benevolent persons interested in the welfare of these people, and the wise and speedy reorganization of society here. No one can be impressed more than myself with the uncertainty of conclusions drawn from in experiences and reﬂections gathered in so brief a period, however industriously and wisely occupied. Nevertheless, they may be of some service to those who have not been privileged with an equal opportunity. Of the plantations visited, full notes have been taken of seventeen, with reference to number of negroes in all; of ﬁeld hands; amount of cotton and corn raised, and how much per acre; time and mode of producing and distributing manure; listing, planting, cultivating, picking and ginning cotton; labor required of each hand; allowance of food and clothing; the capacities of the laborers; their wishes and feelings, both as to themselves and their masters. Many of the above points could be determined by other sources, such as persons at the North familiar with the region, and publications. The inquiries were, however, made with the double purpose of acquiring the information and testing the capacity of the persons inquired of. Some of the leading results of the examination will now be submitted. An estimate of the number of plantations open to cultivation, and of the persons upon the territory protected by the forces of the United States, if only approximate to the truth, may prove convenient in providing a proper system of administration. The following islands are thus protected, and the estimated number of plantations upon each is … about two hundred in all. The populous island of North Edisto, lying in the direction of Charleston is still visited by the rebels. REPORT OF THE GOVERNMENT AGENT A part near Botany Bay Island is commanded by the guns of one of our war vessels, under which a colony of one thousand negroes sought protection, where they

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have been temporarily subsisted from its stores. The number has within a few days been stated to have increased to 2300. Among these, great destitution is said to prevail. Even to this number, as the negroes acquire conﬁdence in us, large additions are likely every week to be made. The whole island can be safely farmed as soon as troops can be spared for the purpose of occupation. But not counting the plantations of this island, the number on Port Royal, Ladies’, St. Helena, Hilton Head, and the smaller islands, may be estimated at 200 plantations. In visiting the plantations, I endeavored to ascertain with substantial accuracy the number of persons upon them, without, however, expecting to determine the precise number. On that of Thomas Aston Cofﬁn, at Cofﬁn Point, St. Helena, there were 260, the largest found on any one visited. There were 130 on that of Dr. J. W. Jenkins, 120 on that of the Eustis estate, and the others range from 80 to 38, making an average of 81 to a plantation. These, however, may be ranked among the best peopled plantations, and forty to each may be considered a fair average. From these estimates, a population of 8000 negroes on the islands, now safely protected by our forces, results. Of the 600 at the camp at Hilton Head, about one-half should be counted with the aforesaid plantations whence they have come. Of the 600 at Beaufort, one.-third should also be reckoned with the plantations. The other fraction in each case should be added to the 8000 in computing the population now thrown on our protection. The negroes on Ladies’ and St. Helena Islands have quite generally remained on their respective plantations, or if absent, but temporarily, visiting wives or relatives. The dispersion on Port Royal and Hilton Head Islands has been far greater, the people of the former going to Beaufort in considerable numbers, and of the latter to the camp at Hilton Head. Counting the negroes who have gone to Hilton Head and Beaufort from places now protected by our forces as still attached to the plantations, and to that extent not swelling the 8000 on plantations, but adding thereto the usual negro population of Beaufort, as also the negroes who have ﬂed to Beaufort and Hilton Head from places not yet occupied by our forces, and adding also the colony at North Edisto, and we must now have thrown upon our hands, for whose present and future we must provide, from 10,000 to 12,000 persons—probably nearer the latter than the former number. This number is rapidly increasing. This week, forty-eight escaped from a single plantation near Grahamville, on the main land, held by the rebels, led by the driver, and after four days of trial and peril, hidden by day and threading the waters with their boats by night, evading the rebel pickets, joyfully entered our camp at Hilton Head. The accessions at Edisto are in larger number, and according to the most reasonable estimates, it would only require small advances by our troops, not involving a general engagement or even loss of life, to double the number which would be brought within our lines. A fact derived from the Census of 1860 may serve to illustrate the responsibility now devolving on the Government. This County of Beaufort had a population of slaves in proportion of 82 13 of the whole, a proportion only exceeded by seven other counties in the United States, viz.: one in South Carolina, that of Georgetown; three in Mississippi, those of Bolivar, Washington and Issequena; and three in Louisiana, those of Madison, Tensas and Concordia. An impression prevails that the negroes here have been less cared for than in most other rebel districts. If this be so, and a beneﬁcent reform shall be achieved here, the experiment may anywhere else be hopefully attempted. The former white

30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal 177

population, so far as can be ascertained, are rebels, with one or two exceptions. In January, 1861, a meeting of the planters on St. Helena Island was held, of which Thomas Aston Cofﬁn was chairman. A vote was passed, stating its exposed condition, and offering their slaves to the Governor of South Carolina, to aid in building earth mounds, and calling on him for guns to place upon them. A copy of the vote, probably in his own handwriting, and signed by Mr. Cofﬁn, was found in his house. It is worthy of note that the negroes now within our lines are there by the invitation of no one; but they were on the soil when our army began its occupation, and could not have been excluded, except by violent transportation. A small proportion have come in from the main land, evading the pickets of the enemy and our own,—something easily done in an extensive country, with whose woods and creeks they are familiar. The only exportable crop of this region is the long staple Sea Island cotton, raised with more difﬁculty than the coarser kind, and bringing a higher price. The agents of the Treasury Department expect to gather some 2,500,00.0 pounds of ginned cotton the present year, nearly all of which had been picked and stored before the arrival of our forces. Considerable quantities have not been picked at all, but the crop for this season was unusually good. Potatoes and corn are raised only for consumption on the plantations,—corn being raised at the rate of only twenty-ﬁve bushels per acre. Such features in plantation life as will throw light on the social questions now anxiously weighed deserve notice. In this region, the master, if a man of wealth, is more likely to have his main residence at Beaufort, sometimes having none on the plantation, but having one for the driver, who is always a negro. He may, however, have one, and an expensive one, too, as in the case of Dr. Jenkins, at St. Helena, and yet pass most of his time at Beaufort, or at the North. The plantation in such cases is left almost wholly under the charge of an overseer. In some cases, there is not even a house for an overseer, the plantation being superintended by the driver, and being visited by the overseer living on another plantation belonging to the same owner. The houses for the overseers are of an undesirable character. Orchards of orange or ﬁg trees are usually planted near them. The ﬁeld hands are generally quartered at some distance eighty or one hundred rods from the overseer’s or master’s house, and are ranged in a row, sometimes in two rows, fronting each other. They are sixteen feet by twelve, each appropriated to a family, and in some cases divided with a partition. They numbered, on the plantations visited, from ten to twenty, and on the Cofﬁn plantation, they are double, numbering twenty-three double houses, intended for forty-six families. The yards seemed to swarm with children, the negroes coupling at an early age. Except on Sundays, these people do not take their meals at a family table, but each one takes his hominy, bread, or potatoes, sitting on the ﬂoor or a bench, and at his own time. They say their masters never allowed them any regular time for meals. Whoever, under our new system, is charged with their superintendence, should see that they attend more to the cleanliness of their persons and houses, and that, as in families of white people, they take their meals together at a table—habits to which they will be more disposed when they are provided with another change of clothing, and when better food is furnished and a proper hour assigned for meals. Upon each plantation visited by me, familiar conversations were had with several laborers, more or less, as time permitted—sometimes inquiries made of them, as they

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collected in groups, as to what they desired us to do with and for them, with advice as to the course of sobriety and industry which it was for their interest to pursue under the new and strange circumstances in which they were now placed. Inquiries as to plantation economy, the culture of crops, the implements still remaining, the number of persons in all, and of ﬁeld hands, and the rations issued, were made of the drivers, as they are called, answering as nearly as the two different systems of labor will permit to foremen on farms in the free States. There is one on each plantation—on the largest one visited, two. They still remained on each visited, and their names were noted. The business of the driver was to superintend the ﬁeldhands generally, and see that their tasks were performed fully and properly. He controlled them, subject to the master or overseer. He dealt out the rations. Another ofﬁce belonged to him. He was required by the master or overseer, whenever he saw ﬁt, to inﬂict corporal punishment upon the laborers; nor was he relieved from this ofﬁce when the subject of discipline was his wife or children. In the absence of the master or overseer, he succeeded to much of their authority. As indicating his position of consequence, he was privileged with four suits of clothing a year, while only two were allowed to the laborers under him. It is evident, from some of the duties assigned to him, that he must have been a person of considerable judgment and knowledge of plantation economy, not differing essentially from that required of the foreman of a farm in the free States. He may be presumed to have known, in many cases, quite as much about the matters with which he was charged as the owner of the plantation, who often passed but a fractional part of his time upon it. The driver, notwithstanding the dispersion of other laborers, quite generally remains on the plantation, as already stated. He still holds the keys of the granary, dealing out the rations of food, and with the same sense of responsibility as before. In one case, I found him in a controversy with a laborer to whom he was refusing his peck of corn, because of absence with his wife on another plantation when the corn was gathered, -it being gathered since the arrival of our army. The laborer protested warmly that he had helped to plant and hoe the corn, and was only absent as charged because of sickness. The driver appealed to me, as the only white man near, and learning from other laborers that the laborer was sick at the time of gathering, I advised the driver to give him his peck of corn, which he did accordingly. The fact is noted as indicating the present relation of the driver to the plantation, where he still retains something of his former authority. This authority is, however, very essentially diminished. The main reason is, as he will assure you, that he has now no white man to back him. Other reasons may, however, concur. A class of laborers are generally disposed to be jealous of one of their own number promoted to be over them, and accordingly some negroes, evidently moved by this feeling, will tell you that the drivers ought now to work as ﬁeld hands, and some ﬁeld hands be drivers in their place. The driver has also been required to report delinquencies to the master or overseer, and upon their order to inﬂict corporal punishment. The laborers will, in some cases, say that he has been harder than he need to have been, while he will say that he did only what he was forced to do. The complainants who have suffered under the lash may be pardoned for not being sufﬁciently charitable to him who has unwillingly inﬂicted it, while, on the other hand, he has been placed in a dangerous position, where a hard nature, or self-interest, or dislike for the victim, might have tempted him to be more cruel than his position required. The truth, in proportions impossible for us in many cases to ﬁx, may lie

30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal 179

with both parties. I am, on the whole, inclined to believe that the past position of the driver and his valuable knowledge, both of the plantations and the laborers, when properly advised and controlled, may be made available in securing the productiveness of the plantations and the good of the laborers. It should be added that, in all cases, the drivers were found very ready to answer inquiries and communicate all information, and seemed desirous that the work of the season should be commenced. There are also on the plantations other laborers, more intelligent than the average, such as the carpenter, the plowman, the religious leader, who may be called a preacher, a watchman or a helper,—the two latter being recognized ofﬁcers in the churches of these people, and the helpers being aids to the watchman. These persons, having recognized positions among their fellows, either by virtue of superior knowledge or devotion, when properly approached by us, may be expected to have a beneﬁcial inﬂuence on the more ignorant, and help to create that public opinion in favor of good conduct which, among the humblest as among the highest, is most useful. I saw many of very low intellectual development, but hardly any too low to be reached by civilizing inﬂuences, either coming directly from us or immediately through their brethren. And while I saw some who were sadly degraded, I met also others who were as ﬁne specimens of human nature as one can ever expect to ﬁnd. Beside attendance on churches on Sundays, there are evening prayer-meetings on the plantations as often as once or twice a week, occupied with praying, singing, and exhortations. In some cases, the leader can read a hymn, having picked up his knowledge clandestinely, either from other negroes or from white children. Of the adults, about one-half, at least, are members of churches, generally the Baptist, although other denominations have communicants among them. In the Baptist Church on St. Helena Island, which I visited on the 22d January, there were a few pews for the proportionally small number of white attendants, and the much larger space devoted to benches for colored people. On one plantation there is a negro chapel, well adapted for the purpose, built by the proprietor, the late Mrs. Eustis, whose memory is cherished by the negroes and some of whose sons are now loyal citizens of Massachusetts. I have heard among the Negroes scarcely any profane swearing—not more than twice—a striking contrast with my experience among soldiers in the army. It seemed a part of my duty to attend some of their religious meetings, and learn further about these people what could be derived from such a source. Their exhortations to personal piety were fervent, and, though their language was many times confused, at least to my ear, occasionally an important instruction or a felicitous expression could be recognized. In one case, a preacher of their own, commenting on the text, ‘‘ Blessed are the meek,’’ exhorted his brethren not to be ‘‘stout-minded.’’ On one plantation on Ladies’ Island, where some thirty negroes were gathered in the evening, I read passages of Scripture, and pressed on them their practical duties at the present time with reference to the good of themselves, their children, and their people. The passages read were the 1st and 23d Psalms; the 61st chapter of Isaiah, verses 1–4; the Beatitudes in the 5th chapter of Matthew; the 14th chapter of John’s Gospel, and the 5th chapter of the Epistle of James. In substance, I told them that their masters had rebelled against the Government, and we had come to put down the rebellion; that we had now met them, and wanted to see what was best to do for them; that Mr. Lincoln, the President or Great Man at Washington, had the

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whole matter in charge, and was thinking what he could do for them; that the great. trouble about doing anything for them was that their masters had always told us, and had made many people believe, that they were lazy, and would not work unless whipped to it; that Mr. Lincoln had sent us down here to see if it was so; that what they did was reported to him, or to men who would tell him; that where I came from all were free, both white and black; that we did not sell children or separate man and wife, but all had to work; that if they were to be free, they would have to work, and would be shut up or deprived of privileges if they did not; that this was a critical hour with them, and if they did not behave well now and respect our agents and appear willing to work, Mr. Lincoln would give up trying to do anything for them, and they must give up all hope for anything better, and their children and grand-children a hundred years hence would be worse off than they had been. I told them they must stick to their plantations and not run about and get scattered, and assured them that what their masters had told them of our intentions to carry them off to Cuba and sell them was a lie, and their masters knew it to be so, and we wanted them to stay on the plantations and raise cotton, and if they behaved well, they should have wages—small, perhaps, at ﬁrst; that they should have better food, and not have their wives and children sold off; that their children should be taught to read and write, for which they might be willing to pay something; that by-and-by they would be as well off as the white people, and we would stand by them against their masters ever coming back to take them. The importance of exerting a good inﬂuence on each other, particularly on the younger. men, who were rather careless and roving, was urged, as all would suffer in good repute from the bad deeds of a few. At Hilton Head, where I spoke to a meeting of two hundred, and there were facts calling for the counsel, the women were urged to keep away from the bad white men, who would ruin them. Remarks of a like character were made familiarly on the plantations to such groups as gathered about. At the Hilton Head meeting, a good-looking man, who had escaped from the southern part of Barnwell District, rose and said, with much feeling, that he and many others should do all they could by good conduct to prove what their masters said against them to be false, and to make Mr. Lincoln think better things of them. After the meeting closed, he desired to know if Mr. Lincoln was coming down here to see them, and he wanted me to give Mr. Lincoln his compliments, with his name, assuring the President that he would do all he could for him. The message was a little amusing, but it testiﬁed to the earnestness of the simple-hearted man. He had known Dr. Brisbane, who had been compelled some years since to leave the South because of his sympathy for slaves. The name of Mr. Lincoln was used in addressing them, as more likely to impress them than the abstract idea of government. It is important to add that in no case have I attempted to excite them by insurrectionary appeals against their former masters, feeling that such a course might increase the trouble of organizing them into a peaceful and improving system, under a just and healthful temporary discipline; and besides that, it is a dangerous experiment to attempt the improvement of a class of men by appealing to their coarser nature. The better course toward making them our faithful allies, and therefore the constant enemies of the rebels, seemed to be to place before them the good things to be done for them and their children, and sometimes reading passages of Scripture appropriate to their lot, without, however, note or comment, never heard before by them, or heard only when wrested from their just interpretation; such, for instance,

30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal 181

as the last chapter of St. James’s Epistle, and the Glad Tidings of Isaiah: ‘‘I have come to preach deliverance to the captive.’’ Thus treated and thus educated, they may be hoped to become useful coadjutors, and the unconquerable foes of the fugitive rebels. There are some vices charged upon these people which deserve examination. Notwithstanding their religious professions, in some cases more emotional than practical, the marriage relation, or what answers for it, is not, in many instances, held very sacred by them. The men, it is said, sometimes leave one wife and take another,—something likely to happen in any society where it is permitted or not forbidden by a stern public opinion, and far more likely to happen under laws which do not recognize marriage, and dissolve what answers for it by forced separations, dictated by the mere pecuniary interest of others. The women, it is said, are easily persuaded by white men,—a facility readily accounted for by the power of the master over them, whose solicitation was equivalent to a command, and against which the husband or father was powerless to protect, and increased also by the degraded condition in which they have been placed, where they have been apt to regard what ought to be a disgrace as a compliment, when they were approached by a paramour of superior condition and race. Yet often the dishonor is felt, and the woman, on whose several children her master’s features are impressed, and through whose veins his blood ﬂows, has sadly confessed it with an instinctive blush. The grounds of this charge, so far as they may exist, will be removed, as much as in communities of our own race, by a system which shall recognize and enforce the marriage relation among them, protect them against the solicitations of white men as much as law can, still more by putting them in relations were they will be inspired with selfrespect and a consciousness of their rights, and taught by a pure and plainspoken Christianity. In relation to the veracity of these people, so far as my relations with them have extended, they have appeared, as a class, to intend to tell the truth. Their manner, as much as among white men, bore instinctive evidence of this intention. Their answers to inquiries relative to the management of the plantations have a general concurrence. They make no universal charges of cruelty against their masters. They will say, in some cases, that their own was a very kind one, but another one in that neighborhood was cruel. On St. Helena Island they spoke kindly of ‘‘the good William Fripp,’’ as they called him, and of Dr. Clarence Fripp; but they all denounced the cruelty of Alvira Fripp, recounting his inhuman treatment of both men and women. Another concurrenee is worthy of note. On the plantations visited, it appeared from the statements of the laborers themselves, that there were, on an average, about 133 pounds of cotton produced to the acre, and ﬁve acres of cotton and corn cultivated to a hand, the culture of potatoes not being noted. An article of the American Agriculturist, published in Turner’s Cotton Manual, pp. 132, 133, relative to the culture of Sea Island Cotton, on the plantation of John H. Townsend, states that the land is cultivated in the proportion of 7–12th cotton, 3–12ths corn, and 2–12ths potatoes—in all, less than six acres to a hand—and the average yield of cotton per acre is 135 pounds. I did not take the statistics of the culture of potatoes, but about ﬁve acres are planted with them on the smaller plantations, and twenty, or even thirty, on the larger; and the average amount of land to each hand, planted with potatoes, should be added to the ﬁve acres of cotton and corn, and thus results not differing substantially are reached in both cases. Thus the standard publications

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attest the veracity and accuracy of these laborers. Again, there can be no more delicate and responsible position, involving honesty and skill, than that of pilot. For this purpose, these people are every day employed to aid our military and naval operations in navigating these sinuous channels. They were used in the recent reconnoisance in the direction of Savannah; and the success of the affair at Port Royal Ferry depended on the ﬁdelity of a pilot, William, without the aid of whom, or of one like him, it could not have been undertaken. Further information on this point may be obtained of the proper authorities here. These services are not, it is true, in all respects, illustrative of the quality of veracity, but they involve kindred virtues not likely to exist without it. It is proper, however, to state that expressions are sometimes heard from persons who have not considered these people thoughtfully, to the effect that their word is not to be trusted, and these persons, nevertheless, do trust them, and act upon their statements. There may, however, be some color for such expressions. These laborers, like all ignorant people, have an ill-regulated reason, too much under the control of the imagination. Therefore, where they report the number of soldiers, or relate facts where there is room for conjecture, they are likely to be extravagant, and you must scrutinize their reports. Still, except among the thoroughly dishonest,-no more numerous among them than in other races—there will be found a colorable basis for their statements, enough to show their honest intention to speak truly. It is true also that you will ﬁnd them too willing to express feelings which will please you. This is most natural. All races, as well as all animals, have their appropriate means of self-defense, and where the power to use physical force to defend one’s self is taken away, the weaker animal, or man, or race, resorts to cunning and duplicity. Whatever habits of this kind may appear in these people are directly traceable to the well-known features of their past condition, without involving any essential proneness to deception in the race, further than may be ascribed to human nature. Upon this point, special inquiries have been made of the Superintendent at Hilton Head, who is brought in direct daily association with them, and whose testimony, truthful as he is, is worth far more than that of those who have had less nice opportunities of observation, and Mr. Lee certiﬁes to the results here presented. Upon the question of the disposition of these people to work, there are different reports, varied somewhat by the impression an idle or an industrious laborer, brought into immediate relation with the witness, may have made on the mind. In conversations with them, they uniformly answered to assurances that if free they must work, ‘‘Yes, massa, we must work to live; that’s the law’’; and expressing an anxiety that the work of the plantations was not going on. At Hilton Head, they are ready to do for Mr. Lee, the judicious Superintendent, whatever is desired. Hard words and epithets are, however, of no use in managing them, and other parties for whose service they are specially detailed, who do not understand or treat them properly, ﬁnd some trouble in making their labor available, as might naturally be expected. In collecting cotton, it is sometimes, as I am told, difﬁcult to get them together, when wanted for work. There may be something in this, particularly among the young men. I have observed them a good deal; and though they often do not work to much advantage, a dozen doing sometimes what one or two stout and well-trained Northern laborers would do, and though less must always he expected of persons native to this soil than those bred in Northern latitudes, and under more bracing air, I have not been at all impressed with their general indolence.

30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal 183

As servants, oarsmen, and carpenters, I have seen them working faithfully and with a will. There are some peculiar circumstances in their condition, which no one who assumes to sit in judgment upon them must overlook. They are now, for the ﬁrst time, freed from the restraint of a master, and like children whose guardian or teacher is absent for the day, they may quite naturally enjoy an interval of idleness. No system of labor for them, outside of the camps, has been begun, and they have had nothing to do except to bale the cotton when bagging was furnished, and we all know that men partially employed are, if anything, less disposed to do the little assigned them than they are to perform the full measure which belongs to them in regular life, the virtue of the latter case being supported by habit. At the camps, they are away from their accustomed places of labor, and have not been so promptly paid as could be desired, and are exposed to the same circumstances which often dispose soldiers to make as little exertion as possible. In the general chaos which prevails, and before the inspirations of labor have been set before them by proper superintendents and teachers who understand their disposition, and show by their conduct an interest in their welfare, no humane or reasonable man would subject them to austere criticism, or make the race responsible for the delinquencies of an idle person, who happened to be brought particularly under his own observation. Not thus would we have ourselves or our own race judged; and the judgment which we would not have meted to us, let us not measure to others. Upon the best examination of these people, and a comparison of the evidence of trustworthy persons, I believe that when properly organized, and with proper motives set before them, they will, as freemen, be as industrious as any race of men are likely to be in this climate. The notions of the sacredness of property as held by these people have sometimes been the subject of discussion here. It is reported they have taken things left in their masters’ houses. It was wise to prevent this, and even where it had been done to compel a restoration, at least of expensive articles, lest they should be injured by speedily acquiring, without purchase, articles above their condition. But a moment’s reﬂection will show that it was the most natural thing for them to do. They had been occupants of the estates; had had these things more or less in charge, and when the former owners had left, it was easy for them to regard their title to the abandoned property as better than that of strangers. Still, it is not true that they have, except as to very simple articles, as soap or dishes, generally availed themselves of such property. It is also stated that in camps where they have been destitute of clothing, they have stolen from each other, but the Superintendents are of opinion that they would not have done this if already well provided. Besides, those familiar with large bodies collected together, like soldiers in camp life, also know how often these charges of mutual pilfering are made among them, often with great injustice. It should be added, to complete the statement, that the agents who have been intrusted with the collection of cotton have reposed conﬁdence in the trustworthiness of the laborers, committing property to their charge—a conﬁdence not found to have been misplaced. To what extent these laborers desire to be free, and to serve us still further in putting down the rebellion, has been a subject of examination The desire to be free has been strongly expressed, particularly among the more intelligent and adventurous. Every day, almost, adds a fresh tale of escapes, both solitary and in numbers, conducted with a courage, a forecast, and a skill, worthy of heroes. But there are other apparent features in their disposition which it would be untruthful to conceal. On the plantations, I often found a disposition to evade the

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inquiry whether they wished to be free or slaves; and though a preference for freedom was expressed, it was rarely in the passionate phrases which would come from an Italian peasant. The secluded and monotonous life of a plantation, with strict discipline and ignorance enforced by law and custom, is not favorable to the development of the richer sentiments, though even there they ﬁnd at least a stunted growth, irrepressible as they are. The inquiry was often answered in this way: ‘‘The white man do what he pleases with us; we are yours now, massa.’’ One, if I understood his broken words rightly, said that he did not care about being free, if he only had a good master. Others said they would like to be free, but they wanted a white man for a ‘‘protector.’’ All of proper age, when inquired of, expressed a desire to have their children taught to read and write, and to learn themselves. On this point, they showed more earnestness than on any other. When asked if they were willing to ﬁght, in case we needed them, to keep their masters from coming back, they would seem to shrink from that, saying that ‘‘black men have been kept down so like dogs that they would run before white men.’’ At the close of the ﬁrst week’s observation, I almost concluded that on the plantation there was but little earnest desire for freedom, and scarcely any willingness for its sake to encounter white men. But as showing the importance of not attempting to reach general conclusions too hastily, another class of facts came to my notice the second week. I met then some more intelligent, who spoke with profound earnestness of their desire to be free and how they had longed to see this day. Other facts, connected with the military and naval operations, were noted. At the recent reconnoisanee toward Pulaski, pilots of this class stood well under the ﬁre, and were not reluctant to the service. When a district of Ladies’ Island was left exposed, they voluntarily took such guns as they could procure, and stood sentries. Also at North Edisto, is where the colony is collected under the protection of our gunboats, they armed themselves and drove back the rebel cavalry. An ofﬁcer here high in command reported to me some of these facts, which had been ofﬁcially communicated to him. The suggestion may be pertinent that the persons in question are divisible into two classes. Those who, by their occupation, have been accustomed to independent labor, and schooled in some sort of self-reliance, are more developed in this direction; while others, who have been bound to the routine of plantation life, and kept more strictly under surveillance, are but little awakened. But even among these last there has been, under the quickening inspiration of present events, a rapid development, indicating that the same feeling is only latent. There is another consideration which must not be omitted. Many of these people have still but little conﬁdence in us, anxiously looking to see what is to be our disposition of them, It is a mistake to suppose that, separated from the world, never having read a Northern book or newspaper relative to them, or talked with a Northern man expressing the sentiments prevalent in his region, they are universally and with entire conﬁdence welcoming us as their deliverers. Here, as everywhere else, where our army has met them, they have been assured by their masters that we were going to carry them off to Cuba. There is probably not a rebel master, from the Potomac to the Gulf, who has not repeatedly made this assurance to his slaves. No matter what his religious vows may have been, no matter what his professed honor as a gentleman; he has not shrunk from the reiteration of this falsehood. Never was there a people, as all who know them will testify, more attached to familiar places than they. Be their home a cabin, and not even that cabin their own, they still cling

30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal 185

to it. The reiteration could not fail to have had some effect on a point on which they were so sensitive. Often it must have been met with unbelief or great suspicion of its truth. It was also balanced by the consideration that their masters would remove them into the interior and perhaps to a remote region, and separate their families, about as bad as being taken to Cuba, and they felt more inclined to remain on the plantations, and take their chances with us. They have told me that they reasoned in this way. But in many cases they ﬂed at the approach of our army. Then one or two bolder returning, the rest were reassured and came back. Recently, the laborers at Parry Island, seeing some schooners approaching suspiciously, commenced gathering their little effects rapidly together, and were about to run, when they were quieted by some of our teachers coming, in whom they had conﬁdence. In some cases, their distrust has been increased by the bad conduct of some irresponsible white men, of which, for the honor of human nature, it is not best to speak more particularly. On the whole, their conﬁdence in us has been greatly increased by the treatment they have received, which, in spite of many individual cases of injury less likely to occur under the stringent orders recently issued from the naval and military authorities, has been generally kind and humane. But the distrust which to a greater or less extent may have existed on our arrival, renders necessary, if we would keep them faithful allies, and not informers to the enemy, the immediate adoption of a system which shall be a pledge of our protection and of our permanent interest in their welfare. The manner of the laborers toward us has been kind and deferential, doing for us such good ofﬁces as were in their power, as guides, pilots, or in more personal service, inviting us on the plantations to lunch of hominy and milk, or potatoes, touching the hat in courtesy, and answering politely such questions as were addressed to them. If there have been exceptions to this rule, it was in the case of those whose bearing did not entitle them to the civility. Passing from general phases of character or present disposition, the leading facts in relation to the plantations and the mode of rendering them useful and determining what is best to be done, come next in order. The laborers on St. Helena and Ladies’ Islands very generally remain on their respective plantations. This fact, arising partially from local attachment and partially because they can thus secure their allowance of corn, is important, as it will facilitate their reorganization. Some are absent, temporarily visiting a wife, or relative, on another plantation, and returning periodically for their rations. The disposition to roam, so far as it exists, mainly belongs to the younger people. On Port Royal and Hilton Head Islands, there is a much greater dispersion, due in part to their having been the scene of more active military movements, and in part to the taking in greater measure on these islands of the means of subsistence from the plantations. When the work recommences, however, there is not likely to be any indisposition to return to them. The statistics with regard to the number of laborers, ﬁeld hands, acres planted to cotton and corn, are not presented as accurate statements, but only as reasonable approximations, which may be of service. The highest number of people on any plantation visited was on Cofﬁn’s, where there are 260. Those on the plantation of Dr. Jenkins number 130; on that of the Eustis estate, 120; and the others, from 80 to 38. The average number on each is 81. The ﬁeld hands range generally from one-third to one-half of the number, the rest being house servants, old persons, and children. About ﬁve acres of cotton and corn are planted to a hand; and to potatoes, about ﬁve acres in all were devoted on the

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smaller plantations, and from twenty to thirty on the larger. The number of pounds in a bale of ginned cotton ranges from 300 to 400—the average number being not far from 345 pounds per bale. The average yield per acre on ﬁfteen plantations was about 133 pounds. The material for compost is gathered in the periods of most leisure—often in July and August, after the cultivation of the cotton plant is ended, and before the picking has commenced. Various materials are used, but quite generally mud and the coarse marsh grass, which abounds on the creeks near the plantations, are employed. The manure is carted upon the land in January and February, and left in heaps, two or three cartloads on each task, to be spread at the time of listing. The land, by prevailing custom, lies fallow a year. The cotton and corn are planted in elevated rows or beds. The next step is the listing, done with the hoe, and making the bed where the alleys were at the previous raising of the crop, and the alleys being made where the beds were before. In this process, half the old bed is hauled into the alley on the one side, and the other half into the alley on the other. This work is done mainly in February, being commenced sometimes the last of January. Workers live in a barracks that is 105 feet square, and contains twenty-one or twenty-two beds or rows. Each laborer is required to list a task and a half; or if the land is moist and heavy, a task and ﬁve or seven beds, say one-fourth or three-eighths of an acre. The planting of cotton commences about the 20th or last of March, and of corn about the same time or earlier. It is continued through April, and by some planters it is not begun till April. The seeds are deposited in the beds, a foot or a foot and a half apart on light land, and two feet apart on heavy land, and ﬁve or ten seeds left in a place. After the plant is growing, the stalks are thinned so as to leave together two on high land and one on low or rich land. The hoeing of the early cotton begins about the time that the planting of the late has ended. The plant is cultivated with the hoe and plow during May, June and July, keeping the weeds down and thinning the stalks. The picking commences the last of August. The cotton being properly dried in the sun, is then stored in houses, ready to be ginned. The ginning, or cleaning the ﬁbre from the seed, is done either by gins operated by steam, or by the well-known footgins—the latter turning out about 30 pounds of ginned cotton per day, and worked by one person, assisted by another, who picks out the specked and yellow cotton. The steam-engine carries one or more gins, each turning out 300 pounds per day, and requiring eight or ten hands to tend the engine and gins, more or less, according to the number of the gins. The footgins are still more used than the gins operated by steam,-the latter being used mainly on the largest plantations, on which both kinds are sometimes employed. I have preserved notes of the kind and number of gins used on the plantations visited, but it is unnecessary to give them here. Both kinds can be run entirely by the laborers, and after this year, the ginning should be done entirely here—among other reasons, to avoid transportation of the seed, which makes nearly three fourths of the weight of the unginned cotton, and to preserve in better condition the seed required for planting. The allowance of clothing to the ﬁeld hands in this district has been two suits per year, one for summer and another for winter. That of food has been mainly vegetable—a peck of corn a week to each hand, with meat only in June, when the work is hardest, and at Christmas. No meat was allowed in June, on some plantations, while on a few, more liberal, it was dealt out occasionally, once a fortnight, or once a month. On a few, molasses was given at intervals. Children, varying with their ages, were allowed from two to

30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal 187

six quarts of corn per week. The diet is more exclusively vegetable here than almost anywhere in the rebellious regions, and in this respect should be changed. It should be added, that there are a large quantity of oysters available for food in proper seasons. Besides the above rations, the laborers were allowed each to cultivate a small patch of ground, about a quarter of an acre, for themselves, when their work for their master was done. On this, corn and potatoes, chieﬂy the former, were planted. The corn was partly eaten by themselves, thus supplying in part the deﬁciency in rations; but it was, to a great extent, fed to a pig, or chickens, each hand being allowed to keep a pig and chickens or ducks, but not geese or turkeys. With the proceeds of the pig and chickens, generally sold to the masters, and at pretty low rates, extra clothing, coffee, sugar, and that necessary of life with these people, as they think, tobacco, were bought. In the report thus far, such facts in the condition of the territory now occupied by the forces of the United States have been noted as seemed to throw light on what could be done to reorganize the laborers, prepare them to become sober and self-supporting citizens, and secure the successful culture of a cotton-crop, now so necessary to be contributed to the markets of the world. It will appear from them that these people are naturally religious and simple-hearted— attached to the places where they have lived, still adhering to them both from a feeling of local attachment and self-interest in securing the means of subsistence; that they have the knowledge and experience requisite to do all the labor, from the preparation of the ground for planting until the cotton is baled, ready to be exported; that they, or the great mass of them, are disposed to labor, with proper inducements thereto; that they lean upon white men, and desire their protection, and could, therefore, under a wise system, be easily brought under subordination; that they are susceptible to the higher considerations, as duty, and the love of offspring, and are not in any way inherently vicious, their defects coming from their peculiar condition in the past or present, and not from constitutional proneness to evil beyond what may be attributed to human nature; that they have among them natural chiefs, either by virtue of religious leadership or superior intelligence, who, being ﬁrst addressed, may exert a healthful inﬂuence on the rest. In a word, that, in spite of their condition, reputed to be worse here than in many other parts of the rebellious region, there are such features in their life and character, that the opportunity is now offered to us to make of them, partially in this generation, and fully in the next, a happy, industrious, law-abiding, free and Christian people, if we have but the courage and patience to accept it. If this be the better view of them and their possibilities, I will say that I have come to it after anxious study of all peculiar circumstances in their lot and character, and after anxious conference with reﬂecting minds here, who are prosecuting like inquiries, not overlooking what, to a casual spectator, might appear otherwise, and granting what is likely enough, that there are those among them whose characters, by reason of bad nature or treatment, are set, and not admitting of much improvement. And I will submit further, that, in common fairness and common charity, when, by the order of Providence, an individual or a race is committed to our care, the better view is entitled to be ﬁrst practically applied. If this one shall be accepted and crowned with success, history will have the glad privilege of recording that this wicked and unprovoked rebellion was not without compensations most welcome to our race. What, then, should be the true system of administration here? It has been proposed to lease the plantations and the people upon them. To this plan there are two objections—each conclusive. In the

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ﬁrst place, the leading object of the parties bidding for leases would be to obtain a large immediate revenue—perhaps to make a fortune in a year or two. The solicitations of doubtful men, offering the highest price, would impose on the leasing power a stern duty of refusal, to which it ought not unnecessarily to be subjected. Far better a system which shall not invite such men to harass the leasing power, or excite expectations of a speedy fortune, to be derived from the labor of this people. Secondly: No man, not even the best of men, charged with the duties which ought to belong to the guardians of these people, should be put in a position where there would be such a conﬂict between his humanity and his self-interest— his desire, on the one hand, to beneﬁt the laborer, and, on the other, the too often stronger desire to reap a large revenue—perhaps to restore broken fortunes in a year or two. Such a system is beset with many of the worst vices of the slave system, with one advantage in favor of the latter, that it is for the interest of the planter to look to permanent results. Let the history of British East India, and of all communities where a superior race has attempted to build up speedy fortunes on the labor of an inferior race occupying another region, be remembered, and no just man will listen to the proposition of leasing, fraught as it is with such dangerous consequences. Personal conﬁdence forbids me to report the language of intense indignation which has been expressed against it here by some occupying high places of command, as also by others who have come here for the special purpose of promoting the welfare of these laborers. Perhaps it might yield to the treasury a larger immediate revenue, but it would be sure to spoil the country and its people in the end. The Government should be satisﬁed if the products of the territory may be made sufﬁcient for a year or two to pay the expenses of administration and superintendence, and the inauguration of a beneﬁcent system which will settle a great social question, ensure the sympathies of foreign nations, now wielded against us, and advance the civilization of the age. The better course would be to appoint superintendents for each large plantation, and one for two or three smaller combined, compensated with a good salary, say $1,000 per year, selected with reference to peculiar qualiﬁcations, and as carefully as one would choose a guardian for his children, clothed with an adequate power to enforce a paternal discipline, to require a proper amount of labor, cleanliness, sobriety, and better habits of life, and generally to promote the moral and intellectual culture of the wards, with such other inducements, if there be any, placed before the superintendent as shall inspire him to constant efforts to prepare them for useful and worthy citizenship. To quicken and ensure the ﬁdelity of the superintendents, there should be a director-general or governor, who shall visit the plantations, and see that they are discharging these duties, and, if necessary, he should be aided by others in the duty of visitation. This ofﬁcer should be invested with liberal powers over all persons within his jurisdiction, so as to protect the blacks from each other and from white men, being required in most important cases to confer with the military authorities in punishing offences. His proposed duties indicate that he should be a man of the best ability and character: better if he have already, by virtue of public services, a hold on the public conﬁdence. Such an arrangement is submitted as preferable for the present to any cumbersome territorial government. The laborers themselves, no longer slaves of their former masters, or of the Government, but as yet in large numbers unprepared for the full privileges of citizens, are to be treated with sole reference to such

30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal 189

preparation. No effort is to be spared to work upon their better nature and the motives which come from it—the love of wages, of offspring, and family, the desire of happiness, and the obligations of religion. And when these fail,-and fail they will, in some cases, we must not hesitate to resort, not to the lash, for as from the department of war so also from the department of labor, it must be banished, but to the milder and more effective punishments—of deprivation of privileges, isolation from family and society, the workhouse, or even the prison. The laborers are to be assured at the outset that parental and conjugal relations among them are to be protected and enforced; that children, and all others desiring, are to be taught; that they will receive wages; and that a certain just measure of work, with reference to the ability to perform it, if not willingly rendered, is to be required of all. The work, so far as the case admits, shall be assigned in proper tasks, the standard being what a healthy person of average capacity can do, for which a deﬁnite sum is to be paid. The remark may perhaps be pertinent, that, whatever may have been the case with women or partially disabled persons, my observations, not yet sufﬁcient to decide the point, have not impressed me with the conviction that healthy persons, if they had been provided with an adequate amount of food, and that animal in due proportion, could be said to have been overworked heretofore on these islands, the main trouble having been that they have not been so provided, and have not had the motives which smooth labor. Notwithstanding the frequent and severe chastisements which have been employed here in exacting labor, they have failed, and naturally enough, of their intended effects. Human beings are made up of so much more of spirit than of muscle, that compulsory labor, enforced by physical pain, will not exceed or equal, in the long run, voluntary labor with just inspirations; and the same law in less degree may be seen in the difference between the value of a whipped and jaded beast, and one well disciplined and kindly treated. What should be the standard of wages where none have heretofore been paid, is less easy to determine. It should be graduated with reference to the wants of the laborer and the ability of the employer or Government; and this ability being determined by the value of the products of the labor, and the most that should be expected being, that for a year or two the system should not be a burden on the Treasury. Taking into consideration the cost of food and clothing, medical attendance and extras, supposing that the laborer would require rations of pork or beef, meal, coffee, sugar, molasses and tobacco, and that he would work 300 days in the year, he should receive about forty cents a day in order to enable him to lay up $30 a year; and each healthy woman could do about equally well. Three hundred days in a year is, perhaps, too high an estimate of working days, when we consider the chances of sickness and days when, by reason of storms and other causes, there would be no work. It is assumed that the laborer is not to pay rent for the small house tenanted by him. This sum, when the average number of acres cultivated by a hand, and the average yield per acre are considered with reference to market prices, or when the expense of each laborer to his former master, the interest on his assumed value and on the value of the land worked by him, these being the elements of what it has cost the master before making a proﬁt, are computed, the Government could afford to pay, leaving an ample margin to meet the cost of the necessary implements, as well as of superintendence and administration. The ﬁgures on which this estimate is based are at the service of the Department if desired. It must also be borne in mind that the plantations will in the end be carried on more scientiﬁcally

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and cheaply than before, the plough taking very much the place of the hoe, and other implements being introduced to facilitate industry and increase the productive power of the soil. It being important to preserve all former habits which are not objectionable, the laborer should have his patch of ground on which to raise corn or vegetables for consumption or sale. As a part of the plan proposed, missionaries will be needed to address the religious element of a race so emotional in their nature, exhorting to all practical virtues, and inspiring the laborers with a religious zeal for faithful labor, the good nurture of their children, and for clean and healthful habits. The benevolence of the Free States, now being directed hither, will gladly provide these. The Government should, however, provide some teachers specially devoted to teaching reading, writing and arithmetic, say some twenty-ﬁve, for the territory now occupied by our forces, and private benevolence might even be relied on for these. The plan proposed is, of course, not presented as an ultimate result: far from it. It contemplates a paternal discipline for the time being, intended for present use only, with the prospect of better things in the future. As fast as the laborers show themselves ﬁtted for all the privileges of citizens, they should be dismissed from the system and allowed to follow any employment they please, and where they please. They should have the power to acquire the fee simple of land, either with the proceeds of their labor or as a reward of special merit; and it would be well to quicken their zeal for good behavior by proper recognitions. I shall not follow these suggestions, as to the future, further, contenting myself with indicating what is best to be done at once with a class of fellow-beings now thrown on our protection, entitled to be recognized as freemen, but for whose new condition the former occupants of the territory have diligently labored to unﬁt them. But whatever is thought best to be done, should be done at once. A system ought to have been commenced with the opening of the year. Beside that, demoralization increases with delay, The months of January and February are the months for preparing the ground by manuring and listing, and the months of March and April are for planting. A1ready, important time has passed, and in a very few weeks will be too late to prepare for a crop, and too late to assi useful work to the laborers for a year to come. I imrplore the immediate intervention of your Department to avert calamities which must ensue from a further postponement. There is another precaution most necessary to be take As much as possible, persons enlisted in the army and navy should be kept separate from these people. The association produces an unhealthy excitement in the latter, and there other injurious results to both parties which it is unnecessay to particularize. In relation to this matter, I had an interview with the Flag-Ofﬁcer, Com. Dupont, which resulted an order that ‘‘no boats from any of the ships of the squadron can be permitted to land anywhere but at Bay Point at Hilton Head, without a pass from the Fleet Captain,’’ a requiring the commanding ofﬁcers of the vessels to give special attention to all intercourse between the men under their command and the various plantations in their vicinity. Whatever can be accomplished to that end by this humane and gallant ofﬁcer, who superadd to skill and courage in profession the liberal views of a statesman, will not be undone. The suggestion should also be made that, when employment is given to this people, some means should be take to enable them to obtain suitable goods at fair rates, and precautions taken to prevent the introduction of ardent spirit among them. A loyal citizen of Massachusetts, Mr. Frederick A. Eustis has recently arrived here. He is the devisee in a considerable amount under the will of the late Mrs.

30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal 191

Eustis, who own the large estate on Ladies’ Island, and also another at Poctaligo, the latter not yet in possession of our forces. The executors are rebels, and reside at Charleston. Mr. Eustis has as yet received no funds by reason of the devise. The are two other loyal devisees and some other devisees reside in rebellious districts, and the latter are understood to ha received dividends. Mr. Eustis is a gentleman of human and liberal views, and, accepting the present conditio of things, desires that the people on these plantations should be distinguished from their brethren on others, but equally admitted to their better fortunes. The circumstances of this case, though of a personal character, may furnish a useful precedent. With great pleasure and conﬁdence, I recommend that this loyal citizen be placed in charge of the plantation on Ladies’ Island, which he is willing to accept—the questions of property and rights under the will being reserved for subsequent determination. A brief statement in relation to the laborers collected at the camps at Hilton Head and Beaufort may be desirable. At both places, they are under the charge of the Quartermaster’s Department. At Hilton Head, Mr. Barnard K. Lee, Jr., of Boston, is the Superintendent, assisted by Mr. J. D. McMath of Alleghany City, Penn., both civilians. The appointment of Mr. Lee is derived from Captain R. Saxton, Chief Quartermaster of the Expeditionary Corps, a humane ofﬁcer, who is deeply interested in this matter. The number at this camp are about 600, the registered number under Mr. Lee being 472, of which 137 are on the pay-roll. Of these 472, 279 are fugitives from the main land, or other points, still held by the rebels; 77 are from Hilton Head Island; 62 from the adjacent island of Pinckney; 38 from St. Helena; 8 from Port Royal; 7 from Spring, and one from Daufuskie. Of the 472, the much larger number, it will be seen, have sought refuge from the places now held by rebels; while the greater proportion of the remainder came in at an early period, before they considered themselves safe elsewhere. Since the above ﬁgures were given, forty-eight more, all from one plantation, and under the lead of the driver, came in together from the main land. Mr. Lee was appointed November 10th last, with instructions to assure the laborers that they would be paid a reasonable sum for their services, not yet ﬁxed. They were contented with the assurance, and a quantity of blankets and clothing captured of the rebels was issued to them without charge. About December 1st, an order was given that carpenters should be paid $8 per month, and other laborers $5 per month. Women and children were fed without charge, the women obtaining washing and receiving the pay, in some cases in considerable sums, not, however, heretofore, very available, as there was no clothing for women for sale here. It will be seen that, under the order, laborers, particularly those with families, have been paid with sufﬁcient liberality. There were 63 laborers on the pay-roll paid to them for the preceding month. On January 1st, there were for the preceding month 127 on the payroll, entitled to $468.59. On February 1st, there were for the preceding month 137 on the pay-roll, entitled to something more than for the month of January; making in all due them not far from $1000. This delay of payment, due, it is stated, to a deﬁciency of small currency, has made the laborers uneasy, and affected the disposition to work. On January 18th, a formal order was issued by General Sherman, regulating the rate of wages, varying from $12 to $8 per month for mechanics, and from $8 to $4 for other laborers. Under it, each laborer is to have, in addition, a ration of food. But from the monthly pay are to be deducted rations for his family, if here, and clothing both for himself and family. Commodious barracks have been

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erected for these people, and a guard protects their quarters. I have been greatly impressed by the kindness and good sense of Mr. Lee and his assistant, in their discipline of these people. The lash, let us give thanks, is banished at last. No coarse words or profanity are used toward them. There has been less than a case of discipline a week, and the delinquent, if a male, is sometimes made to stand on a barrel, or, if a woman, is put in a dark room, and such discipline has proved successful. The only exception, if any, is in the case of one woman, and the difﬁculty there was conjugal jealousy, she protesting that she was compelled by her master, against her will, to live with the man. There is scarcely any profanity among them, more than onehalf of the adults being members of churches. Their meetings are held twice or three times on Sundays, also on the evenings of Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. They are conducted with fervent devotion by themselves alone or in presence of a white clergyman, when the services of one are procurable. They close with what is called ‘‘a glory shout,’’ one joining hands with another, together in couples singing a verse and beating time with the foot. A fastidious religionist might object to this exercise; but being in accordance with usage, and innocent enough in itself, it is not open to exception. As an evidence of the effects of the new system inspiring self-reliance, it should be noted that the other evening they called a meeting of their own accord, and voted, the motion being regularly made and put, that it was now but just that they should provide the candles for their meetings, hitherto provided by the Government. A collection was taken at a subsequent meeting, and $2.48 was the result. The incident may be trivial, but it justiﬁes a pleasing inference. No school, it is to be regretted, has yet been started, except one on Sundays, but the call for reading books is daily made by the laborers. The suggestion of Mr. Lee, in which I most heartily concur, should not be omitted—that with the commencement of the work on the plantations, the laborers should be distributed upon them, having regard to the family relations and the places whence they come. Of the number and condition of the laborers at Beaufort, less accurate information was attainable, and fewer statistics than could be desired. They have not, till within a few days, had a General Superintendent, but have been under the charge of persons detailed for the purpose from the army. I saw one whose manner and language toward them was, to say the least, not elevating. A new Quartermaster of the post has recently commenced his duties, and a better order of things is expected. He has appointed as Superintendent Mr. Wm. Harding, a citizen of Daufuskie Island. An enrollment has commenced, but is not yet ﬁnished. There are supposed to be about six hundred at Beaufort. The number has been larger, but some have already returned to the plantations in our possession from which they came. At this point, the Rev. Solomon Peck, of Roxbury, Mass., has done great good in preaching to them and protecting them from the depredations of white men. He has established a school for the children, in which are sixty pupils, ranging in age from six to ﬁfteen years. They are rapidly learning their letters and simple reading. The teachers are of the same race with the taught, of ages respectively of twenty, thirty, and ﬁfty years. The name of one is John Milton. A visit to the school leaves a remarkable impression. One sees there those of pure African blood, and others ranging through the lighter shades, and among them brunettes of the fairest features. I taught several of the children their letters for an hour or two, and during the recess heard the three teachers, at their own request, recite their spelling-lessons of words of one syllable, and read two chapters of Matthew. It

30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal 193

seemed to be a morning well spent. Nor have the efforts of Dr. Peek been conﬁned to this point. He has preached at Cat, Cane and Ladies’ Island, anticipating all other white clergymen, and on Sunday, February 2d, at the Baptist Church on St. Helena, to a large congregation, where his ministrations have been attended with excellent effects. On my visits to St. Helena, I found that no white clergyman had been there since our military occupation began, that the laborers were waiting for one, and there was a demoralization at some points which timely words might arrest. I may be permitted to state, that it was at my own suggestion that he made the appointment on this island. I cannot forbear to give a moment’s testimony to the nobility of character displayed by this venerable man. Of mild and genial temperament, equally earnest and sensible, enjoying the fruits of culture, and yet not dissuaded by them from the humblest toil, having reached an age when most others would have declined the duty, and left it to be discharged by younger men; of narrow means, and yet in the main defraying his own expenses, this man of apostolic faith and life, to whose labors both hemispheres bear witness, left his home to guide and comfort this poor and shepherdless ﬂock; and to him belongs, and ever will belong, the distinguished honor of being the ﬁrst minister of Christ to enter the ﬁeld which our arms had opened. The Rev. Mansﬁeld French, whose mission was authenticated and approved by the Government, prompted by benevolent purposes of his own, and in conference with others in the city of New York, has been here two weeks, during which time he has been industriously occupied in examining the state of the islands and their population, in conferring with the authorities, and laying the foundation of beneﬁcent appliances with reference to their moral, educational, and material wants. These, having received the sanction of ofﬁcers in command, he now returns to commend to the public, and the Government will derive important information from his report. Beside other things, he proposes, with the approval of the authorities here, to secure authority to introduce women of suitable experience and ability, who shall give industrial instruction to those of their own sex among these people, and who, visiting from dwelling to dwelling, shall strive to improve their household life, and give such counsels as women can best communicate to women. All civilizing inﬂuences like these should be welcomed here, and it cannot be doubted that many noble hearts among the women of the land will volunteer for the service. There are some material wants of this territory requiring immediate attention. The means of subsistence have been pretty well preserved on the plantations on St. Helena; so also on that part of Ladies’ adjacent to St. Helena. But on Port Royal Island, and that part of Ladies’ near to it, destitution has commenced, and will, unless provision is made, become very great. Large amounts of corn for forage, in quantities from ﬁfty to four or ﬁve hundred bushels from a plantation, have been taken to Beaufort. On scarcely any within this district is there enough to last beyond April, whereas it is needed till August. On others, it will last only two or three weeks, and on some it is entirely exhausted. It is stated that the forage was taken because no adequate supply was at hand, and requisitions for it were not seasonably answered. The further taking of the corn in this way has now been forbidden; but the Government must be prepared to meet the exigency which it has itself created. It should be remembered that this is not a grain-exporting region, corn being produced in moderate crops only for consumption. Similar destitution will take place on other islands, from the same cause, unless provision is made. The

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horses, mules and oxen, in large numbers, have been taken to Beaufort and Hilton Head as means of transportation. It is presumed that they, or most of them, are no longer needed for that purpose, and that they will be returned to those who shall have charge of the plantations. Cattle to the number of a hundred, and in some cases less, have been taken from a plantation and slaughtered, to furnish fresh beef for the army. Often cattle have been killed by irresponsible foraging parties, acting without competent authority. There can be no doubt that the army and navy have been in great want of the variation of the rations of salt beef or pork; but it also deserves much consideration, if the plantations are to be permanently worked, how much of a draught they can sustain. The garden seeds have been pretty well used up, and I inclose a desirable list furnished me by a gentleman whose experience enables him to designate those adapted to the soil, and useful too for army supplies. The general cultivation of the islands also requires the sending of a quantity of ploughs and hoes. It did not seem a part of my duty to look specially after matters which had been safely entrusted to others; but it is pleasing, from such observation as was casually made, to testify that Lieutenant-Colonel William H. Reynolds, who was charged with the preservation of the cotton and other conﬁscated property, notwithstanding many difﬁculties in his way, has fulﬁlled his duties with singular ﬁdelity and success. Since the writing of this report was commenced, some action has been taken which will largely increase the numbers of persons thrown on the protection of the Government. Today, February 10th, the 47th Regiment of New York Volunteers has been ordered to take military occupation of North Edisto Island, which is stated to have had formerly a population of 5000 or 6000, and a large number of plantations, a movement which involves great additional responsibility. Agents for the collection of cotton are to accompany it. Herewith is communicated a copy of an order by General Sherman, dated February 6th, 1862, relative to the disposition of the plantations and of their occupants. It is an evidence of the deep interest which the Commanding General takes in this subject, and of his conviction that the exigency requires prompt and immediate action from the Government. I leave for Washington, to add any oral explanations which may be desired, expecting to return at once, and, with the permission of the Department, to organize the laborers on some one plantation, and superintend them during the planting season, and upon its close, business engagements require that I should be relieved of this appointment. I am, with great respect, Your friend and servant, Edward L. Pierce The Committee on Teachers and on Finance would call the attention of the friends of the Commission to the importance of additional subscription to its funds. There are at Port Royal and other places, many thousands of colored persons, lately slaves, who are now under the protection of the U.S. Government. They are a welldisposed people, ready to work, and eager to learn. With a moderate amount of well-directed, systematic labor, they would very soon be able to raise crops more than sufﬁcient for their own support. But they need aid and guidance in their ﬁrst steps towards the condition of self-supporting, independent laborers. It is the object of the Commission to give them this aid, by sending out, as agents, intelligent and benevolent persons, who shall instruct and care for them. These agents are called teachers, but their teaching will by no means be conﬁned to intellectual instruction. It will include all the more important and fundamental lessons of civilization, voluntary industry, self-reliance, frugality, forethought, honesty and truthfulness, cleanliness

31. The Emancipation Proclamation, 1863 195

and order. With these will be combined intellectual, moral and religious instruction. The plan is approved by the U.S. Government, and Mr. Edward L. Pierce, the Special Agent of the Treasury Department, is authorized to accept the services of the agents of this Commission, and to provide for them transportation, quarters and subsistence. Their salaries are paid by the Commission. More than one hundred and ﬁfty applications have been received by the Committee on Teachers, and thirty-ﬁve able and efﬁcient persons have been selected. Twenty-nine of these sailed for Port Royal in the Atlantic, on the 3d instant. Three were already actively employed at that place, and the others are to follow by the next steamer. Some of these are volunteers, who gratuitously devote their time and labor to this cause. Others receive a monthly salary from the Commission. The funds in the treasury, derived from voluntary and almost unsolicited contributions, are sufﬁcient to support those now in service for two or three months. But the Commission is as yet only on the threshold of its undertaking. It is stated by Mr. Pierce that at least one hundred and ﬁfty teachers could be advantageously employed in the vicinity of Port Royal alone. Source: Boston: R. F. Wallcut, 1862.

31. The Emancipation Proclamation, 1863 President Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation on January 1, 1863, as the nation approached its third year of bloody civil war. The proclamation declared ‘‘that all persons held as slaves’’ within the rebellious states ‘‘are, and henceforward shall be free.’’ Despite this expansive wording, the Emancipation Proclamation was limited in many ways. It applied only to states that had seceded from the Union, leaving slavery untouched in the loyal border states. It also expressly exempted parts of the Confederacy that had already come under Northern control. Most important, the freedom it promised depended upon Union military victory. Although the Emancipation Proclamation did not immediately free a single slave, it fundamentally transformed the character of the war. After January 1, 1863, every advance of federal troops expanded the domain of freedom. Moreover, the Proclamation announced the acceptance of black men into the Union Army and Navy, enabling the liberated to become liberators. By the end of the war, almost 200,000 black soldiers and sailors had fought for the Union and freedom. Whereas on the 22d day of September in the year of our Lord 1862 a Proclamation was issued by the President of the United States containing among other things the following to wit: That on the ﬁrst day of January in the year of our Lord 1863 all persons held as slaves within any State, or designated parts of States, the people whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be then thenceforth and forever free, and the Executive Government of the United States, including the military and naval authority thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of such persons, and will do no act or acts to repress such persons, or any of them in any effort they may make for their actual freedom. That the Executive will on the ﬁrst day of January, aforesaid by proclamation, designate the States and parts of States, if any in which the people therein respectively shall then be in rebellion against the United States, and the fact that any

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State or the people thereof shall on that day be in good faith represented in Congress of the United States by members, chosen thereto at elections wherein a majority of the qualiﬁed voters of such State shall have participated, shall in the absence of strong countervailing testimony be deemed conclusive evidence, that such State and the people thereof are not then in rebellion against the United States. Now Therefore, I ABRAHAM LINCOLN, President of the United States, by virtue of the power in me invested as commander in chief of the army and navy in time of actual armed rebellion against the authority and government of the United States, and as a ﬁt and necessary war measure for suppressing said rebellion, do on this ﬁrst day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty three, and in accordance with my purpose so to do publicly proclaimed for the full period of one hundred days from the day of the ﬁrst above mentioned order, and designate as the States and parts of States, wherein the people thereof respectively are this day in rebellion against the United States the following to wit, Arkansas, Texas, Louisiana, except the parishes of St. Bernard, Plaquemines, Jefferson, St. John, St. Charles, St. James, Ascension, Assumption, Terre Bonne, Lafourche, St. Mary, St. Martin and Orleans including the City of New Orleans, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia, as West Virginia and also the counties of Berkeley, Accomac, Northampton, Elizabeth City, York, Princess, Ann and Norfolk, including the cities of Norfolk and Portsmouth, and which excepted parts are for the present left precisely as if this proclamation were not issued. And by virtue of the power, and for the purpose afore said, I do order and declare, that all persons held as slaves, within said designated States and parts of States, are and henceforward shall be free, and that the executive Government of the United States, including the military and naval authorities thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of said persons. And I hereby enjoin upon the people so declared to be free, to abstain from all violence unless in necessary selfdefense, and I recommend to them that in all cases when allowed, they labor faithfully for reasonable wages. And I further declare and make known, that such persons of suitable condition will be received into the armed service of the United States to garrison forts, positions, stations, and other places, and to man vessels of all sorts in said service. And upon this sincerely believed to be an act of justice warranted by the Constitution upon military necessity. I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind, and the gracious favor of Almighty God. In Witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, and caused the Seal of the United States to be afﬁxed. Done at the City of Washington, this ﬁrst day of January in the year of our Lord, one thousand eight hundred and sixty three, and of the independence of the United States of America the eighty-seventh. By President Abraham Lincoln William H. Seward, Secretary of State Source: U.S. National Archives & Records Administration.

32. William Tell Barnitz to the Pennsylvania Daily Telegraph, March 27, 1863 Patriot William Tell Barnitz praises the Union and the defeat of the Copperheads. He presents a perspective of the Civil War that includes a prediction of the inevitable defeat of the Confederacy and the presence of contraband slaves within the

32. William Tell Barnitz to the Pennsylvania Daily Telegraph, March 27, 1863 197

Union camps. He commends the ex-slaves for their interest in education and expresses his support for African American troops. NEWBERN, N.C. March 27, 1863 Like the tocsin peal of victory the news of the resurrection of Northern patriotism broke upon us a few days ago; and oh! the enthusiasm that burst out in every camp! Every face beamed with gladness, every heart was lightened of its depairing burden. No victory however great and splendid, even to the taking of Richmond, could have occasioned such universal joy and mutual good feeling among the patriotic soldiers. Here and there, to be sure, some sneaking leech, who foisted himself upon the Government, in order to have the opportunity of breeding discontent among the men, the effect of which would redound to the disadvantage of the Government, or, as in a multitude of cases, to insure a living, which the party at home could no longer vouchsafe, would skulk along with hang-dog look and sullen mien, discovering his vicious heart and traitorous feeling; but, generally, there was joy— open, beaming joy—and from ten thousand hearts went up a thankful prayer for the awaking of the patriots so long dormant, or who had been regarding our life struggles with a morbid indifference, though they saw the fabric of our Union shaking on its foundation and almost ready to totter to ruins. Since Beauregard’s proclamation, exhorting his hosts to call all Union men Abolitionists, his allies in the North, seeing that thus they could deceive the masses and array them against the Government, spreading discontent and sowing disaffection broadcast, took up the cry, and every true patriot—every one who favored the vigorous prosecution of the war, the conﬁscation of rebel property, or the subjugation of the rebels, the only possible means of crushing the rebellion—was trumpeted forth as an Abolitionist and execrated as an enemy of liberty. Indeed so utterly blinded were many of their followers—so utterly and hellishly belied, betrayed and deceived—that they would have seen our armies annihilated, and rejoiced, and would have thrown themselves in the way for that arch-traitor, Jeff Davis, to ride over in his triumphal entry to our Capital. But, thank God, the ﬁlm has fallen from their eyes in good time, the bubble of treachery and deceit has burst, and clearer, brighter skies glow around us; and was it not wonderful that men of substance, self-deluded, tarried so long upon the mine that threatened every day to explode and engulf them and their all in an abyss so deep that all the energies of posterity for ten centuries could not resurrect them! We do not realize the terrors and calamities that anarchy spreads when a nation falls under her rule; neither can we appreciate the struggles and difﬁculties attendant upon the organization of new institutions, else these hell hounds who have been plotting the destruction of our temple of liberty, cemented by the blood of our fathers and reared at so great a cost of life and agony, would now be hanging on every tree, objects for the execration and loathing of patriots all over the civilized world. Let the ﬁres of liberty, rekindled, be kept steadily burning; let that patriotic association, the Union League, be established in every city, town and township throughout the North, gathering together men of every name and party, where sentiments fresh from the fountains of truth and loyalty may be interchanged, and where, like Marius, true men may pledge themselves upon the altars to freedom, and swear to live or die for their country. Then may the traitor demons plot, and howl, and lie, and hiss, as they see their hopes of agrarianism, dissolution and anarchy scattered to the winds; the army of the Union increased, inspirited, jubilant will march on from

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victory to victory, crush the last stronghold of rebellion and show to the world that a republic has with in itself a self-sustaining power—that princes were not born to rule, and nations only to obey. Last night our pickets were again driven in; our brave boys dashed off after the rebs, but in asmuch as we have heard no ﬁring, we presume they have vamosed as usual. There are about 8,000 contrabands here, working on the railroad, cutting wood, and raising a regiment of volunteers. Philanthropists from the North have opened schools for the instruction of the youth, and the avidity and ease with which they study and learn, is truly surprising; how their eyes glitter with every new discovery, with what satisfaction they enter the school room, how attentive, as if they feared something beautiful would escape their notice; it humbles one to see the efforts these youth put forth to attain knowledege, and it is a grand omen for the amelioration of the race. As soldiers they evince the same traits, attentive, active, quick to learn, ambitious, and, above all, courageous; and I will guarantee when put in the ﬁeld, they will surprise even the cowardly copperheads, whose superiors they are, in everything constituting manliness, worthiness and honor! The Union is safe! The rebellion will be crushed in six months, and these unchained people, ﬁerce under the stings of recent goads, will dash down before the nabobs, who have kept them in eternal bondage, ignorance and degredation, for their own gratiﬁcation, to administer to their own selﬁsh wants. What a fearful retribution will be visited upon these traitors, who, like satan, dissatisﬁed with prosperity, with a government the most benignant ever known, with civil immunities and privileges, unknown to other nations, and with an enslaved race to produce the necessaries of life, to jump at their bidding, to fan them while they slept, and tremble when they woke—who thus favored, thus pampered, attempted at one fell blow to dash down their government, and establish one exclusive as China, proscriptive as Spain, with nigger heads and hearts for foundation, pillar, and dome. Our regiment, the 158th, is in high, good spirits and health, though deploring the abscence of our gallant Colonel D. B. M’Kibbin, who on the night of our search for the rebs, near White Oak river, while riding through the forest, broke the ﬁbula of his right ankle, his horse having gotten his foot into a port hole and fallen upon him. Adieu. WM. Tell Barnitz Source: The Valley of the Shadow: Two Communities in the American Civil War, Virginia Center for Digital History, University of Virginia (http:valley.vcdh.virginia.edu).

33. Sojourner Truth, The Libyan Sibyl, April 1863 HARRIET BEECHER STOWE During slavery, one of the names that emerged and was much talked about by readers of abolitionist newspapers was Sojourner Truth. She was frequently asked to speak before abolitionist groups that were formed and met throughout the country during slavery. At one such meeting, author Harriet Beecher Stowe met the woman Sojourner Truth, many of whom called Sibyl. This is Stowe’s account of her encounter with Sojourner Truth.

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Many years ago, the few readers of radical Abolitionist papers must often have seen the singular name of Sojourner Truth, announced as a frequent speaker at Anti-Slavery meetings, and as travelling on a sort of self-appointed agency through the country. I had myself often remarked the name, but never met the individual. On one occasion, when our house was ﬁlled with company, several eminent clergymen being our guests, notice was brought up to me that Sojourner Truth was below, and requested an interview. Knowing nothing of her but her singular name, I went down, prepared to make the interview short, as the pressure of many other engagements demanded. When I went into the room, a tall, spare form arose to meet me. She was evidently a full-blooded African, and though now aged and worn with many hardships, still gave the impression of a physical development which in early youth must have been as ﬁne a specimen of the torrid zone as Cumberworth’s celebrated statuette of the Negro Woman at the Fountain. Indeed, she so strongly reminded me of that ﬁgure, that, when I recall the events of her life, as she narrated them to me, I imagine her as a living, breathing impersonation of that work of art. I do not recollect ever to have been conversant with any one who had more of that silent and subtle power which we call personal presence than this woman. In the modern Spiritualistic phraseology, she would be described as having a strong sphere. Her tall form, as she rose up before me, is still vivid to my mind. She was dressed in some stout, grayish stuff, neat and clean, though dusty from travel. On her head, she wore a bright Madras handkerchief, arranged as a turban, after the manner of her race. She seemed perfectly self-possessed and at her ease,—in fact, there was almost an unconscious superiority, not unmixed with a solemn twinkle of humor, in the odd, composed manner in which she looked down on me. Her whole air had at times a gloom sort of drollery which impressed one strangely. ‘‘So this is YOU,’’ she said. ‘‘Yes,’’ I answered. ‘‘Well, honey, de Lord bless ye! I jes’ thought I’d like to come an’ have a look at ye. You’s heerd o’ me, I reckon?’’ she added. ‘‘Yes, I think I have. You go about lecturing, do you not?’’ ‘‘Yes, honey, that’s what I do. The Lord has made me a sign unto this nation, an’ I go round a’testifyin’, an’ showin’ on ‘em their sins agin my people.’’ So saying, she took a seat, and, stooping over and crossing her arms on her knees, she looked down on the ﬂoor, and appeared to fall into a sort of reverie. Her great gloomy eyes and her dark face seemed to work with some undercurrent of feeling; she sighed deeply, and occasionally broke out,— ‘‘O Lord! O Lord! Oh, the tears, an’ the groans, an’ the moans! O Lord!’’ I should have said that she was accompanied by a little grandson of ten years,— the fattest, jolliest woolly-headed little specimen of Africa that one can imagine. He was grinning and showing his glistening white teeth in a state of perpetual merriment, and at this moment broke out into an audible giggle, which disturbed the reverie into which his relative was falling. She looked at him with an indulgent sadness, and then at me. ‘‘Laws, Ma’am, HE don’t know nothin’ about it—HE don’t. Why, I’ve seen them poor critters, beat an’ ‘bused an’ hunted, brought in all torn,—ears hangin’ all in rags, where the dogs been a’bitin’of ‘em!’’

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This set off our little African Puck into another giggle, in which he seemed perfectly convulsed. She surveyed him soberly, without the slightest irritation. ‘‘Well, you may bless the Lord you CAN laugh; but I tell you, ‘t wa’n’t no laughin’ matter.’’ By this time I thought her manner so original that it might be worth while to call down my friends; and she seemed perfectly well pleased with the idea. An audience was what she wanted,—it mattered not whether high or low, learned or ignorant. She had things to say, and was ready to say them at all times, and to any one. I called down Dr. Beecher, Professor Allen, and two or three other clergymen, who, together with my husband and family, made a roomful. No princess could have received a drawing-room with more composed dignity than Sojourner her audience. She stood among them, calm and erect, as one of her own native palm-trees waving alone in the desert. I presented one after another to her, and at last said,— ‘‘Sojourner, this is Dr. Beecher. He is a very celebrated preacher.’’ ‘‘IS he?’’ she said, offering her hand in a condescending manner, and looking down on his white head. ‘‘Ye dear lamb, I’m glad to see ye! De Lord bless ye! I loves preachers. I’m a kind o’ preacher myself.’’ ‘‘You are?’’ said Dr. Beecher. ‘‘Do you preach from the Bible?’’ ‘‘No, honey, can’t preach from de Bible,—can’t read a letter.’’ ‘‘Why, Sojourner, what do you preach from, then?’’ Her answer was given with a solemn power of voice, peculiar to herself, that hushed every one in the room. ‘‘When I preaches, I has jest one text to preach from, an’ I always preaches from this one. MY text is, ‘WHEN I FOUND JESUS.’ ’’ ‘‘Well, you couldn’t have a better one,’’ said one of the ministers. She paid no attention to him, but stood and seemed swelling with her own thoughts, and then began this narration:— ‘‘Well, now, I’ll jest have to go back, an’ tell ye all about it. Ye see, we was all brought over from Africa, father an’ mother an’ I, an’ a lot more of us; an’ we was sold up an’ down, an’ hither an’ yon; an’ I can ‘member, when I was a little thing, not bigger than this ‘ere,’’ pointing to her grandson, ‘‘how my ole mammy would sit out o’ doors in the evenin’, an’ look up at the stars an’ groan. She’d groan an’ groan, an’ says I to her,—‘‘‘Mammy, what makes you groan so?’ ‘‘an’ she’d say,— ‘‘‘Matter enough, chile! I’m groanin’ to think o’ my poor children: they don’t know where I be, an’ I don’t know where they be; they looks up at the stars, an’ I looks up at the stars, but I can’t tell where they be. ‘‘‘Now,’ she said, ‘chile, when you’re grown up, you may be sold away from your mother an’ all your ole friends, an’ have great troubles come on ye; an’ when you has these troubles come on ye, ye jes’ go to God, an’ He’ll help ye.’ ‘‘An’ says I to her,— ‘‘‘Who is God, anyhow, mammy?’ ‘‘An’ says she,— ‘‘‘Why, chile, you jes’ look up DAR! It’s Him that made all DEM!’’ ‘‘Well, I didn’t mind much ‘bout God in them days. I grew up pretty lively an’ strong, an’ could row a boat, or ride a horse, or work round, an’ do ‘most anything.

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‘‘At last I got sold away to a real hard massa an’ missis. Oh, I tell you, they WAS hard! ‘Peared like I couldn’t please ‘em, nohow. An’ then I thought o’ what my old mammy told me about God; an’ I thought I’d got into trouble, sure enough, an’ I wanted to ﬁnd God, an’ I heerd some one tell a story about a man that met God on a threshin’-ﬂoor, an’ I thought, ‘Well an’ good, I’ll have a threshin’-ﬂoor, too.’ So I went down in the lot, an’ I threshed down a place real hard, an’ I used to go down there every day, an’ pray an’ cry with all my might, a-prayin’ to the Lord to make my massa an’ missis better, but it didn’t seem to do no good; an’ so says I, one day,— ‘‘‘O God, I been a-askin’ ye, an’ askin’ ye, an’ askin’ ye, for all this long time, to make my massa an’ missis better, an’ you don’t do it, an’ what CAN be the reason? Why, maybe you CAN’T. Well, I shouldn’t wonder ef you couldn’t. Well, now, I tell you, I’ll make a bargain with you. Ef you’ll help me to git away from my massa an’ missis, I’ll agree to be good; but ef you don’t help me, I really don’t think I can be. Now,’ says I, ‘I want to git away; but the trouble’s jest here: ef I try to git away in the night, I can’t see; an’ ef I try to git away in the daytime, they’ll see me, an’ be after me.’ ‘‘Then the Lord said to me, ‘Git up two or three hours afore daylight, an’ start off.’ ‘‘An’ says I, ‘Thank ‘ee, Lord! That’s a good thought.’ ‘‘So up I got, about three o’clock in the mornin’, an’ I started an’ travelled pretty fast, till, when the sun rose, I was clear away from our place an’ our folks, an’ out o’ sight. An’ then I begun to think I didn’t know nothin’ where to go. So I kneeled down, and says I,— ‘‘‘Well, Lord, you’ve started me out, an’ now please to show me where to go.’ ‘‘Then the Lord made a house appear to me, an’ He said to me that I was to walk on till I saw that house, an’ then go in an’ ask the people to take me. An’ I travelled all day, an’ didn’t come to the house till late at night; but when I saw it, sure enough, I went in, an’ I told the folks that the Lord sent me; an’ they was Quakers, an’ real kind they was to me. They jes’ took me in, an’ did for me as kind as ef I’d been one of ‘em; an’ after they’d giv me supper, they took me into a room where there was a great, tall, white bed; an’ they told me to sleep there. Well, honey, I was kind o’ skeered when they left me alone with that great white bed; ‘cause I never had been in a bed in my life. It never came into my mind they could mean me to sleep in it. An’ so I jes’ camped down under it, on the ﬂoor, an’ then I slep’ pretty well. In the mornin’, when they came in, they asked me ef I hadn’t been asleep; an’ I said, ‘Yes, I never slep’ better.’ An’ they said, ‘Why, you haven’t been in the bed!’ An’ says I, ‘Laws, you didn’t think o’ such a thing as my sleepin’ in dat ‘ar’ BED, did you? I never heerd o’ such a thing in my life.’ ‘‘Well, ye see, honey, I stayed an’ lived with ‘em. An’ now jes’ look here: instead o’ keepin’ my promise an’ bein’ good, as I told the Lord I would, jest as soon as everything got a’goin’ easy, I FORGOT ALL ABOUT GOD. ‘‘Pretty well don’t need no help; an’ I gin up prayin.’ I lived there two or three years, an’ then the slaves in New York were all set free, an’ ole massa came to our home to make a visit, an’ he asked me ef I didn’t want to go back an’ see the folks on the ole place. An’ I told him I did. So he said, ef I’d jes’ git into the wagon with him, he’d carry me over. Well, jest as I was goin’ out to git into the wagon, I MET GOD! an’ says I, ‘O God, I didn’t know as you was so great!’ An’ I turned right

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round an’ come into the house, an’ set down in my room; for ‘t was God all around me. I could feel it burnin’, burnin’, burnin’ all around me, an’ goin’ through me; an’ I saw I was so wicked, it seemed as ef it would burn me up. An’ I said, ‘O somebody, somebody, stand between God an’ me! for it burns me!’ Then, honey, when I said so, I felt as it were somethin’ like an amberill [umbrella] that came between me an’ the light, an’ I felt it was SOMEBODY,—somebody that stood between me an’ God; an’ it felt cool, like a shade; an’ says I, ‘Who’s this that stands between me an’ God? Is it old Cato?’ He was a pious old preacher; but then I seemed to see Cato in the light, an’ he was all polluted an’ vile, like me; an’ I said, ‘Is it old Sally?’ an’ then I saw her, an’ she seemed jes’ so. An’ then says I, ‘WHO is this?’ An’ then, honey, for a while it was like the sun shinin’ in a pail o’ water, when it moves up an’ down; for I begun to feel ‘t was somebody that loved me; an’ I tried to know him. An’ I said, ‘I know you! I know you! I know you!’—an’ then I said, ‘I don’t know you! I don’t know you! I don’t know you!’ An’ when I said, ‘I know you, I know you,’ the light came; an’ when I said, ‘I don’t know you, I don’t know you,’ it went, jes’ like the sun in a pail o’ water. An’ ﬁnally somethin’ spoke out in me an’ said, ‘THIS IS JESUS!’ An’ I spoke out with all my might, an’ says I, ‘THIS IS JESUS! Glory be to God!’ An’ then the whole world grew bright, an’ the trees they waved an’ waved in glory, an’ every little bit o’ stone on the ground shone like glass; an’ I shouted an’ said, ‘Praise, praise, praise to the Lord!’ An’ I begun to feel such a love in my soul as I never felt before,—love to all creatures. An’ then, all of sudden, it stopped, an’ I said, ‘Dar’s de white folks, that have abused you an’ beat you an’ abused your people,—think o’ them!’ But then there came another rush of love through my soul, an’ I cried out loud,—‘Lord, Lord, I can love EVEN DE WHITE FOLKS!’ ‘‘Honey, I jes’ walked round an’ round in a dream. Jesus loved me! I knowed it,— I felt it. Jesus was my Jesus. Jesus would love me always. I didn’t dare tell nobody; ‘t was a great secret. Everything had been got away from me that I ever had; an’ I thought that ef I let white folks know about this, maybe they’d get HIM away,—so I said, ‘I’ll keep this close. I won’t let any one know.’ ’’ ‘‘But, Sojourner, had you never been told about Jesus Christ?’’ ‘‘No, honey. I hadn’t heerd no preachin’,—been to no meetin’. Nobody hadn’t told me. I’d kind o’ heerd of Jesus, but thought he was like Gineral Lafayette, or some o’ them. But one night there was a Methodist meetin’ somewhere in our parts, an’ I went; an’ they got up an’ begun for to tell der ‘speriences; an’ de fust one begun to speak. I started, ‘cause he told about Jesus. ‘Why,’ says I to myself, ‘dat man’s found him, too!’ An’ another got up an’ spoke, an I said, ‘He’s found him, too!’ An’ ﬁnally I said, ‘Why, they all know him!’ I was so happy! An’ then they sung this hymn’’: (Here Sojourner sang, in a strange, cracked voice, but evidently with all her soul and might, mispronouncing the English, but seeming to derive as much elevation and comfort from bad English as from good):— ‘There is a holy city, A world of light above, Above the stairs and regions, Built by the God of Love. ‘‘An Everlasting temple, And saints arrayed in white

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There serve their great Redeemer And dwell with him in light. ‘‘The meanest child of glory Outshines the radiant sun; But who can speak the splendor Of Jesus on his throne? ‘‘Is this the man of sorrows Who stood at Pilate’s bar, Condemned by haughty Herod And by his men of war? ‘‘He seems a mighty conqueror, Who spoiled the powers below, And ransomed many captives From everlasting woe. ‘‘The hosts of saints around him Proclaim his work of grace, The patriarchs and prophets, And all the godly race, ‘‘Who speak of ﬁery trials And tortures on their way; They came from tribulation To everlasting day. ‘‘And what shall be my journey, How long I’ll stay below, Or what shall be my trials, Are not for me to know. ‘‘In every day of trouble I’ll raise my thoughts on high, I’ll think of that bright temple And crowns above the sky.’’ Source: The Atlantic Monthly, Vol. XI: 473–481, April, 1863. Courtesy of The University of Virginia Library.

34. The Negro in the Regular Army OSWALD GARRISON VILLARD When the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment stormed Fort Wagner on July 18, 1863, it established for all time the fact that the colored soldier would ﬁght and ﬁght well. This had already been demonstrated in Louisiana by colored regiments under

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the command of General Godfrey Weitzel in the attack upon Port Hudson on May 27 of the same year. On that occasion regiments composed for the greater part of raw recruits—plantation hands with centuries of servitude under the lash behind them—stormed trenches and dashed upon cold steel in the hands of their former masters and oppressors. After that there was no more talk in the portion of the country of the ‘‘natural cowardice’’ of the negro. But the heroic qualities of regiment Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, his social prominence and that of his ofﬁcers, and the comparative nearness of their battleﬁeld to the North, attracted greater and more lasting attention to the daring and bravery of their exploit, until it ﬁnally became ﬁxed in many minds as the ﬁrst real baptism of ﬁre of colored American soldiers. After Wagner the recruiting of colored regiments, originally opposed by both North and South, went on apace, particularly under the Federal government, which organized no less than one hundred and ﬁfty-four, designated as ‘‘United States Colored Troops.’’ Colonel Shaw’s raising of a colored regiment aroused quite as much comment in the North because of the race prejudice it deﬁed, as because of the novelty of the new organization. General Weitzel tendered his resignation the instant General B. F. Butler assigned black soldiers to his brigade, and was with difﬁculty induced to serve on. His change of mind was a wise one, and not only because these colored soldiers covered him with glory at Port Hudson. It was his good fortune to be the central ﬁgure in one of the dramatic incidents of a war that must ever rank among the most thrilling and tragic the world has seen. The black cavalrymen who rode into Richmond, the ﬁrst of the Northern troops to enter the Southern capital, went in waving their sabres and crying to the negroes on the sidewalks, ‘‘We have come to set you free!’’ They were from the division of Godfrey Weitzel, and American history has no more stirring moment. In the South, notwithstanding the raising in 1861 of a colored Confederate regiment by Governor Moore of Louisiana (a magniﬁcent body of educated colored men which afterwards became the First Louisiana National Guards of General Weitzel’s brigade and the ﬁrst colored regiment in the Federal Army), the feeling against negro troops was insurmountable until the last days of the struggle. Then no straw could be overlooked. When, in December, 1863, Major-General Patrick R. Cleburne, who commanded a division of Hardee’s Corps of the Confederate Army of the Tennessee, sent in a paper in which the employment of the slaves as soldiers of the South was vigorously advocated, Jefferson Davis indorsed it with the statement, ‘‘I deem it inexpedient at this time to give publicity to this paper, and request that it be suppressed.’’ General Cleburne urged that ‘‘freedom within a reasonable time’’ be granted to every slave remaining true to the Confederacy, and was moved to this action by the valor of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, saying, ‘‘If they [the negroes] can be made to face and ﬁght bravely against their former masters, how much more probable is it that with the allurement of a higher reward, and led by those masters, they would submit to discipline and face dangers?’’ With the ending of the civil war the regular army of the United States was reorganized upon a peace footing by an act of Congress dated July 28, 1866. In just recognition of the bravery of the colored volunteers six regiments, the Ninth and Tenth Cavalry and the Thirty-eighth, Thirty-ninth, Fortieth, and Forth-ﬁrst Infantry, were designated as colored regiments. When the army was again reduced in 1869, the Thirty-eighth and Forty-ﬁrst became the Twenty-fourth Infantry, and the

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Thirty-ninth and Fortieth became the Twenty-ﬁfth. This left four colored regiments in the regular army as it was constituted from 1870 until 1901. There has never been a colored artillery organization in the regular service. Source: The Atlantic Monthly 91: 721–729, 1903.

35. Our alma mater: Notes on an address delivered at Concert Hall on the occasion of the Twelfth Annual Commencement of the Institute for Colored Youth, May 10th, 1864 ALUMNI ASSOCIATION Octavius V. Catto, alumnus of the Institute for Colored Youth, delivered an address to 1864 graduates of the Institute in Philadelphia that focused on the training of teachers to educate and provide inspiration for the new-freed slaves from the southern United States. On Wednesday and Thursday last occurred the Twelfth Annual Commencement exercises of the Institute for Colored Youth. The former student of these days was occupied with the public examination of classes at the Institute Buildings, 716 and 718 Lombard Street. Among the audience we noticed Rt. Rev. Alonzo Potter, Rev. Dr. William Mann, and other eminent persons. The rooms were crowded throughout the entire day. Classes were examined in Greek, Latin, Mathematics, and the higher English studies, and they generally acquitted themselves creditably. Rev. Dr. Mann created considerable interest in the Greek classes by closely questioning them, and by reciting an ode of Anacreon. These classes were led over the Greek Testament, extracts from Homer, Lucian, and Anacreon. The Latin classes showed familiarity with the Latin of Virgil, Cicero, Sallust, and Horace. The Greek and Latin scanning and parsing were well spoken of by competent judges. The classes in mathematics generally did well. The English analysis and mental arithmetic were excellent; so was the spherical trigonometry. The ‘‘Bible Lesson’’ was superb. Much interest was manifested in the distribution of prizes. A fund, yielding about one hundred dollars annually, was some years ago, given to the corporation from an unknown source for this purpose. Mr. M. C. Cope, Secretary of the Corporation, distributed the prizes as follows: To Thomas H. Boling and Harriet C. Johnson, each $15, for excellence in mathematics; to John Wesley Cromwell and Mary V. Brown, each $15, for superiority in Greek and Latin; to James L. Smallwood and Elizabeth Handy, each $10, the prize for diligence and good conduct and to Theophilus J. Minton and Margaret A. Masten, each $5, an honorary prize. On Thursday morning the anniversary of the Alumni Association was held in Sansom Street Hall, which was comfortably ﬁlled. Mr. B. H. Brewster and other prominent citizens were present. The ﬁrst address, delivered by John H. Smith, a graduate of the Institute, was on a ‘‘Model Statesman.’’ It was very intelligently discussed and well received. An obituary notice of Mary E. Ayers, written by M. F. Minton, was read next by Caroline R. Le Count, all alumni of the Institute. The composition itself was very creditable, and the reading of it excellent. Then came a political address on the ‘‘Aspect of the Times,’’ by John Q. Allen, also a graduate of the Institute. The eloquent young gentleman handled the subject well, and was frequently interrupted by applause.

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The Alumni Oration was delivered by E. D. Bassett, the principal of the Institute. His subject was the ‘‘Elements of Permanent Governments and Societies,’’ which was discussed at some length, in an able manner. For nearly one hour and a half the undivided attention of the audience was given to this argumentative, humorous, and philosophic oration. The orator said that neither form, territory, population, commerce, wealth, physical well-being, military nor intellectual greatness, either separately or collectively, was sufﬁcient to constitute permanent governments. He brought prominently before the audience examples from history, classic and modern, to establish his position: that while all the aforesaid characteristics of wellordered society were essential, yet there must be added virtue, liberty, and a high moral and religious development. In the evening occurred the rhetorical and elocutionary exercises of the undergraduates. At an early hour Concert hall was crowded to its utmost capacity. About onethird of the audience were respectable white fellow-citizens. On the platform sat the managers, teachers, alumni, and a portion of the pupils. The orations and essays were, as a whole, highly commendable. One of the young ladies read an essay on John Bright, which was greatly applauded. A little fellow, of about fourteen summers, bearing the suggestive name of Toussaint L’Ouverture Martin, kindled a ﬂame of excitement and applause by reciting a poem of his own composing. There were other meritorious productions, but the interest of the evening centred in an address by Mr. O. V. Catto, who graduated at the Institute in 1858. The scope of the address was to give a history of the Institution, which he did very ably and satisfactorily, indeed. From this address, it appeared that the Institution was incorporated by the Legislature of Pennsylvania in 1842. The members of the Corporation are exclusively members of the Society of Friends. The object aimed at is to afford gratuitously to colored youth, of both sexes, a good High School education, that they may be qualiﬁed to act as teachers among their own people, or in other useful capacities. Thirtysix have pursued the full course of study. These are, generally, in useful callings. The average daily attendance at the Institution is about 100. The teachers, six in number, are all colored. The amount of the fund is now $80,000 and upwards, which has been entirely given by members of the Society of friends, one of whom gave $13,000, another $10,000, &c. The detail of facts was very ingeniously woven together, and the address itself possessed more than ordinary literary merit. At the conclusion of the exercises the principal, Mr. E. D. Bassett, presented the diploma to the successful candidates, as follows: James M. Baxter, Jr., Thomas H. Boling, John Wesley Cromwell, James L. Smallwood, Mary V. Brown, Elizabeth Handy, Harriet C. Johnson, Margaret A. Masten, and M. Gertrude Ofﬁt. Philadelphia, May 20, 1864. Mr. Octavius V. Catto. Sir: The Association of Alumni of the Institute for Colored Youth, regarding the address delivered by you on the occasion of the Twelfth Annual Commencement of the Institute as a document which, not less on account of its literary merits than for the information it contains, is entitled to wide-spread circulation, have instructed the undersigned to request a copy for publication. Very respectfully, yours, Jacob C. White,

36. Excerpt reprinted from ‘‘A Colored Man’s Reminiscences of James Madison’’

C. A Jennings Philadelphia, May 22, 1864 Miss C.A. Jennings The address to which your polite note refers, was not written with a view to publication; but with the hope, that in a printed form, one, at least, of the interest of our Alma Mater may be promoted, a copy is placed at your disposal. Accept assurances of my deep interest in the Association you so wisely cherish, and believe me, Yours, truly, Octavius V. Catto. Source: Philadelphia: C. Sherman, Son & Co., printers, 1864. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A. P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

36. Excerpt reprinted from ‘‘A Colored Man’s Reminiscences of James Madison’’ Paul Jennings was employed by the U.S. Department of the Interior in 1865. Born a slave on the estate of President James Madison in Montpelier, Virginia, in 1799, his father was thought to have been Benjamin Jennings, an English trader in Montpelier; his mother, a slave of Madison’s and the granddaughter of a native American from the same region. The younger Jennings was a ‘‘body servant’’ of Madison’s. When Madison died, Jennings was owned by Daniel Webster. On January 10, 1865, it was recorded in a book found in the possession of another black man among some books, coins and autographs belonging to Edward M. Thomas, another black man who had been a messenger in the House of Representatives in Washington. It contained an autograph of Daniel Webster with these words: ‘‘I have paid $120 for the freedom of Paul Jennings; he agrees to work out the same at $8 per month, to be furnished with board, clothes, washing.…’’ When Mr. Madison was chosen President, we came … and moved into the White House; the east room was not ﬁnished, and Pennsylvania Avenue was not paved, but was always in an awful condition from either mud or dust. The city was a dreary place. Mr. Robert Smith was then Secretary of State, but as he and Mr. Madison could not agree, he was removed, and Colonel Monroe appointed to his place. Dr. Eustis was Secretary of War—rather a rough, blustering man; Mr. Gallatin, a tip-top man, was Secretary of the Treasury; and Mr. Hamilton, of South Carolina, a pleasant gentleman, who thought Mr. Madison could do nothing wrong, and who always concurred in every thing he said, was Secretary of the Navy. Before the war of 1812 was declared, there were frequent consultations at the White House as to the expediency of doing it. Colonel Monroe was always ﬁerce for it, so were Messrs. Lowndes, Giles, Poydrass, and Pope—all Southerners; all his Secretaries were likewise in favor of it. Soon after war was declared, Mr. Madison made his regular summer visit to his farm in Virginia. We had not been there long before an express reached us one evening, informing Mr. M. of Gen. Hull’s surrender. He was astounded at the news, and started back to Washington the next morning. After the war had been going on for a couple of years, the people of Washington began to be alarmed for the safety of the city, as the British held Chesapeake Bay

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with a powerful ﬂeet and army. Every thing seemed to be left to General Armstrong, then Secretary of war, who ridiculed the idea that there was any danger. But, in August, 1814, the enemy had got so near, there could be no doubt of their intentions. Great alarm existed, and some feeble preparations for defense were made. Com. Barney’s ﬂotilla was stripped of men, who were placed in battery, at Bladensburg, where they fought splendidly. A large part of his men were tall, strapping negroes, mixed with white sailors and marines. Mr. Madison reviewed them just before the ﬁght, and asked Com. Barney if his ‘‘negroes would not run on the approach of the British?’’ ‘‘No sir,’’ said Barney, ‘‘they don’t know how to run; they will die by their guns ﬁrst.’’ They fought till a large part of them were killed or wounded; and Barney himself wounded and taken prisoner. One or two of these negroes are still living here. Well, on the 24th of August, sure enough, the British reached Bladensburg, and the ﬁght began between 11 and 12. Even that very morning General Armstrong assured Mrs. Madison there was no danger. The President, with General Armstrong, General Winder, Colonel Monroe, Richard Rush, Mr. Graham, Tench Ringgold, and Mr. Duvall, rode out on horseback to Bladensburg to see how things looked. Mrs. Madison ordered dinner to be ready at 3, as usual; I set the table myself, and brought up the ale, cider, and wine, and placed them in the coolers, as all the Cabinet and several military gentlemen and strangers were expected. While waiting, at just about 3, as Sukey, the house-servant was lolling out of a chamber window, James Smith, a free colored man who had accompanied Mr. Madison to Bladensburg, gallopped up to the house, waving his hat, and cried out, ‘‘Clear out, clear out! General Armstrong has ordered a retreat!’’ All then was confusion. Mrs. Madison ordered her carriage, and passing through the dining-room, caught up what silver she could crowd into her old-fashioned reticule, and then jumped into the chariot with her servant girl Sukey, and Daniel Carroll, who took charge of them; Jo. Bolin drove them over to Georgetown Heights; the British were expected in a few minutes. Mr. Cutts, her brother- in-law, sent me to a stable on 14th street, for his carriage. People were running in every direction. John Freeman (the colored butler) drove off in the coachee with his wife, child, and servant; also a feather bed lashed on behind the coachee, which was all the furniture saved, except part of the silver and the portrait of Washington (of which I will tell you by-and-by). I will here mention that although the British were expected every minute, they did not arrive for some hours; in the mean time, a rabble, taking advantage of the confusion, ran all over the White House, and stole lots of silver and whatever they could lay their hands on. About sundown I walked over to the Georgetown ferry, and found the President and all hands (the gentlemen named before, who acted as a sort of body-guard for him) waiting for the boat. It soon returned, and we all crossed over, and passed up the road about a mile; they then left us servants to wander about. In a short time several wagons from Bladensburg, drawn by Barney’s artillery horses, passed up the road, having crossed the Long Bridge before it was set on ﬁre. As we were cutting up some planks a white wagoner ordered us away, and told his boy Tommy to reach out his gun, and he would shoot us. I told him ‘‘he had better have used it at Bladensburg.’’ Just then we came up with Mr. Madison and his friends, who had been wandering about for some hours, consulting what to do. I walked on to a Methodist minister’s, and in the evening, while he was at prayer, I heard a tremendous explosion, and, rushing out, saw that the public buildings, navy yard, and ropewalks were on ﬁre.

36. Excerpt reprinted from ‘‘A Colored Man’s Reminiscences of James Madison’’

Mrs. Madison slept that night at Mrs. Love’s, two or three miles over the river. After leaving that place she called in at a house, and went up stairs. The lady of the house learning who she was, became furious, and went to the stairs and screamed out, ‘‘Miss Madison! if that’s you, come down and go out! Your husband has got mine out ﬁghting, and d_ you, you shan’t stay in my house; so get out!’’ Mrs. Madison complied, and went to Mrs. Minor’s, a few miles further, where she stayed a day or two, and then returned to Washington, where she found Mr. Madison at her brother-in-law’s, Richard Cutts, on F street. All the facts about Mrs. M. I learned from her servant Sukey. We moved into the house of Colonel John B. Taylor [Tayloe], corner of 18th street and New York Avenue, where we lived till the news of peace arrived. In two or three weeks after we returned, Congress met in extra session, at Blodgett’s old shell of a house on 7th street (where the General Post-ofﬁce now stands). It was three stories high, and had been used for a theatre, a tavern, and an Irish boarding house, but both Houses of Congress managed to get along in it very well, notwithstanding it had to accommodate the Patent-ofﬁce, City and General Post-ofﬁce, committee-rooms, and what was left of the Congressional Library, at the same time. Things are very different now. The next summer, Mr. John Law, a large property-holder about the Capitol, fearing it would not be rebuilt, got up a subscription and built a large brick building (now called the Old Capitol, where the secesh prisoners are conﬁned), and offered it to Congress for their use, till the Capitol could be rebuilt. This coaxed them back, though strong efforts were made to remove the seat of government north; but the southern members kept it here. It has often been stated in print, that when Mrs. Madison escaped from the White House, she cut out from the frame the large portrait of Washington (now in one of the parlors there), and carried it off. This is totally false. She had no time for doing it. It would have required a ladder to get it down. All she carried off was the silver in her reticule, as the British were thought to be but a few squares off, and were expected every moment. John Suse [Jean-Pierre Sioussat] ( a Frenchman, then door-keeper, and still living) and Magraw, the President’s gardener, took it down and sent it off on a wagon, with some large silver urns and such other valuables as could be hastily got hold of. When the British did arrive, they ate up the very dinner, and drank the wines, &c., that I had prepared for the President’s party. When the news of peace arrived, we were crazy with joy. Miss Sally Coles, a cousin of Mrs. Madison, and afterwards wife of Andrew Stevenson, since minister to England, came to the head of the stairs, crying out, ‘‘Peace! peace!’’ and told John Freeman (the butler) to serve out wine liberally to the servants and others. I played the President’s March on the violin, John Suse and some others were drunk for two days, and such another joyful time was never seen in Washington. Mr. Madison and all his Cabinet were as pleased as any, but did not show their joy in this manner. After he retired from the presidency, he amused himself chieﬂy on his farm. At the election for members of the Virginia Legislature, in 1829 or ‘30, just after General Jackson’s accession, he voted for James Barbour, who had been a strong Adams man. He also presided, I think, over the Convention for amending the Constitution, in 1832. After the news of peace, and of General Jackson’s victory at New Orleans, which reached here about the same time, there were great illuminations. We moved into

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the Seven Buildings, corner of 19th street and Pennsylvania Avenue, and while there, General Jackson came on with his wife, to whom numerous dinner-parties and levees were given. Mr. Madison also held levees every Wednesday evening, at which wine, punch, coffee, and ice-cream were liberally served, unlike the present custom. While Mr. Jefferson was President, he and Mr. Madison (then his Secretary of State) were extremely intimate; in fact, two brothers could not have been more so. Mr. Jefferson always stopped over night at Mr. Madison’s, in going and returning from Washington. I have heard Mr. Madison say, that when he went to school, he cut his own wood for exercise. He often did it also when at his farm in Virginia. He was very neat, but never extravagant, in his clothes. He always dressed wholly in black—coat, breeches, and silk stockings, with buckles in his shoes and breeches. He never had but one suit at a time. He had some poor relatives that he had to help, and wished to set them an example of economy in the matter of dress. He was very fond of horses, and an excellent judge of them, and no jockey ever cheated him. He never had less than seven horses in his Washington stables while President. He often told the story, that one day riding home from court with old Tom Barbour (father of Governor Barbour), they met a colored man, who took off his hat. Mr. M. raised his, to the surprise of old Tom; to whom Mr. M. replied, ‘‘I never allow a negro to excel me in politeness.’’ Though a similar story is told of General Washington, I have often heard this, as above, from Mr. Madison’s own lips. Source: This excerpt is reprinted from ‘‘A Colored Man’s Reminiscences of James Madison,’’ White House History (Collection Set 1), 2004, p. 51–55. White House History is a semi-annual journal published by the White House Historical Association, www.whitehousehistory.org.

37. What the Black Man Wants: a speech delivered by Frederick Douglass at the Annual Meeting of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society in Boston, April 1865 In the spring of 1865, abolitionist Frederick Douglass attended an annual meeting of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery society in Boston. He arrived as an observer and listener, he said, hoping to avoid confrontations over the differing opinions over slavery and a fear that his words would be misconstrued, or would disturb the proceedings of these meetings. Therefore, his appearance was a rare one. [In staying away, I] have thus been deprived of that educating inﬂuence, which I am always free to confess is of the highest order, descending from this platform. I have felt, since I have lived out West [of Boston, in Rochester, NY], that in going there I parted from a great deal that was valuable; and I feel, every time I come to these meetings, that I have lost a great deal by making my home west of Boston, west of Massachusetts; for, if anywhere in the country there is to be found the highest sense of justice, or the truest demands for my race, I look for it in the East, I look for it here. The ablest discussions of the whole question of our rights occur here, and to be deprived of the privilege of listening to those discussions is a great deprivation. I do not know, from what has been said, that there is any difference of opinion as to the duty of abolitionists, at the present moment. How can we get up any

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difference at this point, or any point, where we are so united, so agreed? I went especially, however, with that word of Mr. Phillips, which is the criticism of Gen. Banks and Gen. Banks’ policy. Gen. Banks instituted a labor policy in Louisiana that was discriminatory of blacks, claiming that it was to help prepare them to better handle freedom. Wendell Phillips countered by saying, ‘‘If there is anything patent in the whole history of our thirty years’ struggle, it is that the Negro no more needs to be prepared for liberty than the white man.’’ I hold that that policy is our chief danger at the present moment; that it practically enslaves the Negro, and makes the Proclamation [the Emancipation Proclamation] of 1863 a mockery and delusion. What is freedom? It is the right to choose one’s own employment. Certainly it means that, if it means anything; and when any individual or combination of individuals undertakes to decide for any man when he shall work, where he shall work, at what he shall work, and for what he shall work, he or they practically reduce him to slavery. [Applause.] He is a slave. That I understand Gen. Banks to do—to determine for the so-called freedman, when, and where, and at what, and for how much he shall work, when he shall be punished, and by whom punished. It is absolute slavery. It defeats the beneﬁcent intention of the Government, if it has beneﬁcent intentions, in regards to the freedom of our people. I have had but one idea for the last three years to present to the American people, and the phraseology in which I clothe it is the old abolition phraseology. I am for the ‘‘immediate, unconditional, and universal’’ enfranchisement of the black man, in every State in the Union. [Loud applause.] Without this, his liberty is a mockery; without this, you might as well almost retain the old name of slavery for his condition; for in fact, if he is not the slave of the individual master, he is the slave of society, and holds his liberty as a privilege, not as a right. He is at the mercy of the mob, and has no means of protecting himself. It may be objected, however, that this pressing of the Negro’s right to suffrage is premature. Let us have slavery abolished, it may be said, let us have labor organized, and then, in the natural course of events, the right of suffrage will be extended to the Negro. I do not agree with this. The constitution of the human mind is such, that if it once disregards the conviction forced upon it by a revelation of truth, it requires the exercise of a higher power to produce the same conviction afterwards. The American people are now in tears. The Shenandoah has run blood—the best blood of the North. All around Richmond, the blood of New England and of the North has been shed—of your sons, your brothers and your fathers. We all feel, in the existence of this Rebellion, that judgments terrible, wide-spread, far-reaching, overwhelming, are abroad in the land; and we feel, in view of these judgments, just now, a disposition to learn righteousness. This is the hour. Our streets are in mourning, tears are falling at every ﬁreside, and under the chastisement of this Rebellion we have almost come up to the point of conceding this great, this all-important right of suffrage. I fear that if we fail to do it now, if abolitionists fail to press it now, we may not see, for centuries to come, the same disposition that exists at this moment. [Applause.] Hence, I say, now is the time to press this right. It may be asked, ‘‘Why do you want it? Some men have got along very well without it. Women have not this right.’’ Shall we justify one wrong by another? This is

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the sufﬁcient answer. Shall we at this moment justify the deprivation of the Negro of the right to vote, because some one else is deprived of that privilege? I hold that women, as well as men, have the right to vote … [applause] … and my heart and voice go with the movement to extend suffrage to woman; but that question rests upon another basis than which our right rests. We may be asked, I say, why we want it. I will tell you why we want it. We want it because it is our right, ﬁrst of all. No class of men can, without insulting their own nature, be content with any deprivation of their rights. We want it again, as a means for educating our race. Men are so constituted that they derive their conviction of their own possibilities largely by the estimate formed of them by others. If nothing is expected of a people, that people will ﬁnd it difﬁcult to contradict that expectation. By depriving us of suffrage, you afﬁrm our incapacity to form an intelligent judgment respecting public men and public measures; you declare before the world that we are unﬁt to exercise the elective franchise, and by this means lead us to undervalue ourselves, to put a low estimate upon ourselves, and to feel that we have no possibilities like other men. Again, I want the elective franchise, for one, as a colored man, because ours is a peculiar government, based upon a peculiar idea, and that idea is universal suffrage. If I were in a monarchial government, or an autocratic or aristocratic government, where the few bore rule and the many were subject, there would be no special stigma resting upon me, because I did not exercise the elective franchise. It would do me no great violence. Mingling with the mass I should partake of the strength of the mass; I should be supported by the mass, and I should have the same incentives to endeavor with the mass of my fellow-men; it would be no particular burden, no particular deprivation; but here where universal suffrage is the rule, where that is the fundamental idea of the Government, to rule us out is to make us an exception, to brand us with the stigma of inferiority, and to invite to our heads the missiles of those about us; therefore, I want the franchise for the black man. There are, however, other reasons, not derived from any consideration merely of our rights, but arising out of the conditions of the South, and of the country—considerations which have already been referred to by Mr. Phillips—considerations which must arrest the attention of statesmen. I believe that when the tall heads of this Rebellion shall have been swept down, as they will be swept down, when the Davises and Toombses and Stephenses, and others who are leading this Rebellion shall have been blotted out, there will be this rank undergrowth of treason, to which reference has been made, growing up there, and interfering with, and thwarting the quiet operation of the Federal Government in those states. You will se those traitors, handing down, from sire to son, the same malignant spirit which they have manifested and which they are now exhibiting, with malicious hearts, broad blades, and bloody hands in the ﬁeld, against our sons and brothers. That spirit will still remain; and whoever sees the Federal Government extended over those Southern States will see that Government in a strange land, and not only in a strange land, but in an enemy’s land. A post-master of the United States in the South will ﬁnd himself surrounded by a hostile spirit; a collector in a Southern port will ﬁnd himself surrounded by a hostile spirit; a United States marshall or United States judge will be surrounded there by a hostile element. That enmity will not die out in a year, will not die out in an age. The Federal Government will be looked upon in those States precisely as the Governments of Austria and France are looked upon in Italy at the present moment. They will endeavor to circumvent, they will endeavor to destroy,

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the peaceful operation of this Government. Now, where will you ﬁnd the strength to counterbalance this spirit, if you do not ﬁnd it in the Negroes of the South? They are your friends, and have always been your friends. They were your friends even when the Government did not regard them as such. They comprehended the genius of this war before you did. It is a signiﬁcant fact, it is a marvellous fact, it seems almost to imply a direct interposition of Providence, that this war, which began in the interest of slavery on both sides, bids fair to end in the interest of liberty on both sides. [Applause.] It was begun, I say, in the interest of slavery on both sides. The South was ﬁghting to take slavery out of the Union, and the North was ﬁghting to keep it in the Union; the South ﬁghting to get it beyond the limits of the United States Constitution, and the North ﬁghting to retain it within those limits; the South ﬁghting for new guarantees, and the North ﬁghting for the old guarantees;—both despising the Negro, both insulting the Negro. Yet, the Negro, apparently endowed with wisdom from on high, saw more clearly the end from the beginning than we did. When Seward said the status of no man in the country would be changed by the war, the Negro did not believe him. [Applause.] When our generals sent their underlings in shoulder-straps to hunt the ﬂying Negro back from our lines into the jaws of slavery, from which he had escaped, the Negroes thought that a mistake had been made, and that the intentions of the Government had not been rightly understood by our ofﬁcers in shoulder-straps, and they continued to come into our lines, threading their way through bogs and fens, over briers and thorns, fording streams, swimming rivers, bringing us tidings as to the safe path to march, and pointing out the dangers that threatened us. They are our only friends in the South, and we should be true to them in this their trial hour, and see to it that they have the elective franchise. I know that we are inferior to you in some things—virtually inferior. We walk about you like dwarfs among giants. Our heads are scarcely seen above the great sea of humanity. The Germans are superior to us; the Irish are superior to us; the Yankees are superior to us [Laughter]; they can do what we cannot, that is, what we have not hitherto been allowed to do. But while I make this admission, I utterly deny, that we are originally, or naturally, or practically, or in any way, or in any important sense, inferior to anybody on this globe. [Loud applause.] This charge of inferiority is an old dodge. It has been made available for oppression on many occasions. It is only about six centuries since the blue-eyed and fairhaired Anglo-Saxons were considered inferior by the haughty Normans, who once trampled upon them. If you read the history of the Norman Conquest, you will ﬁnd that this proud Anglo-Saxon was once looked upon as of coarser clay than his Norman master, and might be found in the highways and byways of Old England laboring with a brass collar on his neck, and the name of his master marked upon it. You were down then! [Laughter and applause.] You are up now. I am glad you are up, and I want you to be glad to help us up also. [Applause.] The story of our inferiority is an old dodge, as I have said; for wherever men oppress their fellows, wherever they enslave them, they will endeavor to ﬁnd the

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needed apology for such enslavement and oppression in the character of the people oppressed and enslaved. When we wanted, a few years ago, a slice of Mexico, it was hinted that the Mexicans were an inferior race, that the old Castilian blood had become so weak that it would scarcely run down hill, and that Mexico needed the long, strong and beneﬁcent arm of the Anglo-Saxon care extended over it. We said that it was necessary to its salvation, and a part of the ‘‘manifest destiny’’ of this Republic, to extend our arm over that dilapidated government. So, too, when Russia wanted to take possession of a part of the Ottoman Empire, the Turks were an ‘‘inferior race.’’ So, too, when England wants to set the heel of her power more ﬁrmly in the quivering heart of old Ireland, the Celts are an ‘‘inferior race.’’ So, too, the Negro, when he is to be robbed of any right which is justly his, is an ‘‘inferior man.’’ It is said that we are ignorant; I admit it. But if we know enough to be hung, we know enough to vote. If the Negro knows enough to pay taxes to support the government, he knows enough to vote; taxation and representation should go together. If he knows enough to shoulder a musket and ﬁght for the ﬂag, ﬁght for the government, he knows enough to vote. If he knows as much when he is sober as an Irishman knows when drunk, he knows enough to vote, on good American principles. [Laughter and applause.] But I was saying that you needed a counterpoise in the persons of the slaves to the enmity that would exist at the South after the Rebellion is put down. I hold that the American people are bound, not only in self-defense, to extend this right to the freedmen of the South, but they are bound by their love of country, and by all their regard for the future safety of those Southern States, to do this—to do it as a measure essential to the preservation of peace there. But I will not dwell upon this. I put it to the American sense of honor. The honor of a nation is an important thing. It is said in the Scriptures, ‘‘What doth it proﬁt a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?’’ It may be said, also, What doth it proﬁt a nation if it gain the whole world, but lose its honor? I hold that the American government has taken upon itself a solemn obligation of honor, to see that this war—let it be long or short, let it cost much or let it cost little—that this war shall not cease until every freedman at the South has the right to vote. [Applause.] It has bound itself to it. What have you asked the black men of the South, the black men of the whole country to do? Why, you have asked them to incure the enmity of their masters, in order to befriend you and to befriend this Government. You have asked us to call down, not only upon ourselves, but upon our children’s children, the deadly hate of the entire Southern people. You have called upon us to turn our backs upon our masters, to abandon their cause and espouse yours; to turn against the South and in favor of the North; to shoot down the Confederacy and uphold the ﬂag—the American ﬂag. You have called upon us to expose ourselves to all the subtle machinations of their malignity for all time. And now, what do you propose to do when you come to make peace? To reward your enemies, and trample in the dust your friends? Do you intend to sacriﬁce the very men who have come to the rescue of your banner in the South, and incurred the lasting displeasure of their masters thereby? Do you intend to sacriﬁce them and reward your enemies? Do you mean to give your enemies the right to vote, and take it away from your friends? Is that wise policy? Is that honorable? Could American honor withstand such a blow? I do not believe you will do it. I think you will see to it that we have the right to vote. There is something too mean in looking upon the Negro, when you are in trouble, as a citizen, and when you are free from trouble, as an alien. When this nation was in trouble, in its

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early struggles, it looked upon the Negro as a citizen. In 1776 he was a citizen. At the time of the formation of the Consitution the Negro had the right to vote in eleven States out of the old thirteen. In your trouble you have made us citizens. In 1812 Gen. Jackson addressed us as citizens—‘‘fellow-citizens.’’ He wanted us to ﬁght. We were citizens then! And now, when you come to frame a conscription bill, the Negro is a citizen again. He has been a citizen just three times in the history of this government, and it has always been in time of trouble. In time of trouble we are citizens. Shall we be citizens in war, and aliens in peace? Would that be just? I ask my friends who are apologizing for not insisting upon this right, where can the black man look, in this country, for the assertion of his right, if he may not look to the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society? Where under the whole heavens can he look for sympathy, in asserting this right, if he may not look to this platform? Have you lifted us up to a certain height to see that we are men, and then are any disposed to leave us there, without seeing that we are put in possession of all our rights? We look naturally to this platform for the assertion of all our rights, and for this one especially. I understand the anti-slavery societies of this country to be based on two principles,—ﬁrst, the freedom of the blacks of this country; and, second, the elevation of them. Let me not be misunderstood here. I am not asking for sympathy at the hands of abolitionists, sympathy at the hands of any. I think the American people are disposed often to be generous rather than just. I look over this country at the present time, and I see Educational Societies, Sanitary Commissions, Freedmen’s Associations, and the like,—all very good: but in regard to the colored people there is always more that is benevolent, I perceive, than just, manifested towards us. What I ask for the Negro is not benevolence, not pity, not sympathy, but simply justice. [Applause.] The American people have always been anxious to know what they shall do with us. Gen. Banks was distressed with solicitude as to what he should do with the Negro. Everybody has asked the question, and they learned to ask it early of the abolitionists, ‘‘What shall we do with the Negro?’’ I have had but one answer from the beginning. Do nothing with us! Your doing with us has already played the mischief with us. Do nothing with us! If the apples will not remain on the tree of their own strength, if they are wormeaten at the core, if they are early ripe and disposed to fall, let them fall! I am not for tying or fastening them on the tree in any way, except by nature’s plan, and if they will not stay there, let them fall. And if the Negro cannot stand on his own legs, let him fall also. All I ask is, give him a chance to stand on his own legs! Let him alone! If you see him on his way to school, let him alone, don’t disturb him! If you see him going to the dinner table at a hotel, let him go! If you see him going to the ballot-box, let him alone, don’t disturb him! [Applause.] If you see him going into a work-shop, just let him alone,—your interference is doing him a positive injury. Gen. Banks’ ‘‘preparation’’ is of a piece with this attempt to prop up the Negro. Let him fall if he cannot stand alone! If the Negro cannot live by the line of eternal justice, so beautifully pictured to you in the illustration used by Mr. Phillips, the fault will not be yours, it will be his who made the Negro, and established that line for his government. [Applause.] Let him live or die by that. If you will only untie his hands, and give him a chance, I think he will live. He will work as readily for himself as the white man. A

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great many delusions have been swept away by this war. One was, that the Negro would not work; he has proved his ability to work. Another was, that the Negro would not ﬁght; that he possessed only the most sheepish attributes of humanity; was a perfect lamb, or an ‘‘Uncle Tom;’’ disposed to take off his coat whenever required, fold his hands, and be whipped by anybody who wanted to whip him. But the war has proved that there is a great deal of human nature in the Negro, and that ‘‘he will ﬁght,’’ as Mr. Quincy, our President, said, in earlier days than these, ‘‘when there is reasonable probability of his whipping anybody.’’ [Laughter and applause.] Source: Philip S. Foner, The Life and Writings of Frederick Douglass, Vol. IV: p.157–165. International Publishers Co. Inc.: New York, 1950. Permission of International Publishers/New York.

38. 14th Amendment, 1866 The 14th Amendment creates a broad deﬁnition of citizenship in the United States. It requires the states to provide equal protection under the laws to all persons (not only to citizens) within their boundaries. The signiﬁcance of the Fourteenth Amendment was exempliﬁed when the U.S. Supreme Court later interpreted it to prohibit racial segregation in public schools and other facilities in Brown v. Board of Education. Section 1. All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws. Section 2. Representatives shall be apportioned among the several States according to their respective numbers, counting the whole number of persons in each State, excluding Indians not taxed. But when the right to vote at any election for the choice of electors for President and Vice President of the United States, Representatives in Congress, the Executive and Judicial ofﬁcers of a State, or the members of the Legislature thereof, is denied to any of the male inhabitants of such State, being twenty-one years of age, and citizens of the United States, or in any way abridged, except for participation in rebellion, or other crime, the basis of representation therein shall be reduced in the proportion which the number of such male citizens shall bear to the whole number of male citizens twenty-one years of age in such State. Section 3. No person shall be a Senator or Representative in Congress, or elector of President and Vice President, or hold any ofﬁce, civil or military, under the United States, or under any State, who, having previously taken an oath, as a member of Congress, or as an ofﬁcer of the United States, or as a member of any State legislature, or as an executive or judicial ofﬁcer of any State, to support the Constitution of the United States, shall have engaged in insurrection or rebellion against the same, or given aid or comfort to the enemies thereof. But Congress may by a vote of two-thirds of each House, remove such disability. Section 4. The validity of the public debt of the United States, authorized by law, including debts incurred for payment of pensions and bounties for services in suppressing insurrection or rebellion, shall not be questioned. But neither the

39. Letter from Amelia [Unknown family name] to brother Eddie, December 11, 1869 217

United States nor any State shall assume or pay any debt or obligation incurred in aid of insurrection or rebellion against the United States, or any claim for the loss or emancipation of any slave; but all such debts, obligations and claims shall be held illegal and void. Section 5. The Congress shall have power to enforce, by appropriate legislation, the provisions of this article. Source: Primary Documents in American History, Library of Congress.

39. Letter from Amelia [Unknown family name] to brother Eddie, December 11, 1869 This letter was written during the Reconstruction era by a young school teacher named Amelia, who writes to her brother Eddie, telling him about her African American students in Virginia. Staunton [Va.] Dec 11. /69 Dear Brother Eddie I am sorry to know you have been so sick and suffered so much. However I hope you are better now and able to read this letter. Do not wonder if I put in many things wrong as the girls seem to be possessed with a talking mania to-night. We have been so quiet before that it makes more difference with me than I thought possible. I have my scholars all to myself now and like it ﬁrst rate. I have not whipped any yet and dont think I shall as Amelia has given me permission to send all unruly ones to her to deal with. They are going to have compositions next Wednesday. Some of them have never written any before and I expect they will be funny enough. I will send you in this; a specimen of some poetry one of my young boys tried to write. The other day an Indian visited our school. He was seven feet high and just as straight and erect as could be. He was eighty years old. His hair was white as snow as stood up all over his head. He had a fur cap bag slung across his shoulder. We did not know who he was and felt rather frightened when we saw him walking in. He introduced himself as the father of some of our best scholars. He is a kind of doctor among the colored people. He was formerly a slave from Florida: but travelled with his master nearly all over the Union. He is very entertaining telling hunting stories as well as stories of the war. I wished you could go with me some day to the cabin they live in out by the great ﬁre place ﬁlled with blazing logs and hear him tell stories. One of his boys is very smart only nine years old and reading nicely in the fourth reader. I am quite proud of my scholars I can tell you, they are getting on so well. The night school is just as amusing as ever, and I cannot help laughing. The colored people here are going to have an exhibition next week. They have got it all up themselves. They are going to have some tableaux, too. I expect it will be as good as going to the minstrel and better too as that is all sham and this will be the real article. I have picked out three pieces for some of my boys to speak and that is all I have had to do with it. I wrote a letter to Roland to-day and am going to try and write him oftener in the future as I shall have more time now. Mr Cristy wote me a nice long letter the other day telling me all about Albert’s conversion. They must be very glad and I hope he will make a true earnest christian. Here is the poetry James Tynell had in his composition. The ‘‘title’’ of the composition was this,

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where he got it from I am sure I do not know, ‘‘Who ought to have the credit Columbus or Washington? Columbus for settling discovering it or Washington for settling it.’’ He took the side of Columbus, I copied the whole thing and will bring it home with me, it is a great curiousity. Here is the poetry I will write it on the top of the ﬁrst page. Try and get well and write me a nice long letter, Love to all From Amelia. ‘‘When ﬂoating me the mile deep Not a tree was to be seen And when the men all grumble It would make any mans heart humble But just think of this great carnage That was on that long voyage Who was that great man? C. Columbus Columbus Beat that if you can, you [unclear] Source: The Valley of the Shadow: Two Communities in the American Civil War, Virginia Center for Digital History, University of Virginia (http:valley.vcdh.virginia.edu).

40. First Annual Address to the Law Graduates of Allen University, class 1884, given by D. Augustus Straker, June 12, 1884 In this address to law graduates in Columbia, South Carolina, Professor Straker, Dean of the Law Department, inspired his audience with his precise references to their historical past and culture. He advised these new law graduates to maintain character in their professional lives and to rely on ancient rhetorical devices for effective expression in the courtrooms. Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen, and young gentlemen, graduates: At the closing moments of your departure from the law department of Allen University, your Alma Mater, in which you have pursued and completed a course of legal study, entitling you to the usual degree of Bachelor of Laws, and by subsequent examination before the Supreme Court of the State, admitting you to practice in all the courts of the State, it is my duty to present you with a few words of parting advice. Before doing so, let us take a retrospect upon mutual labors. In October, 1882, the Law Department of Allen University was opened, I was chosen by the trustees Dean and Law Professor in this department. This meant more than I conceived. It did not have its usual meaning, that is a teacher of some legal branch of knowledge, to which I must devote my attention and give instruction, but it meant, by force of circumstances, I should be required to teach all the legal topics prescribed by the curriculum of the university, which are, in a great degree, identical with those prescribed by the 23d rule of the Supreme Court of our State. I was not wanting in difﬁdence of my ability to perform so herculean a task in which was

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involved so grave responsibilities. My duty was to educate in the law, colored youth, of a race declared to be inferior in capacity with all others. If I failed I certiﬁed to both your and my incapacity. My responsibility then was, the maintenance of an entire race’s ﬁtness and capacity. I consoled myself in the belief that I had a heart and will determined enough to commence the work, putting my trust in God, the Father of us all, and believing that he had made of one blood all nations upon the face of the earth. I concluded that he had made them all of like susceptibilities, to glorify him in the comprehension of his handiwork, and the laws of the same. Thus I began my labors. You young gentlemen entered the law school. You did not enter as those of the Caucasian race usually do, with the prestige of a wealthy parentage, a pocket full of gold, and the equal facilities belonging of right, to a common brotherhood in man. At the threshold of the temple, wherein you were to drink deep and full from the fountain of legal knowledge, running from time immemorial in the streamlets of tradition, custom and usage, until, beginning with the Jewish Theocracy to the Justinian age, the conﬂuence was commenced with the fathers of English Common Law, Coke, Littleton, and Sir William Blackstone, and the mighty stream, began to ﬂow down the course of civilization, puriﬁed by Christianity. You were met by the common inquisitor of social life, so frequent at the door of the commencement of the pursuit of knowledge by every young man and woman. He inquired of you, ‘‘are you laden with the passport to this world’s honors—money? Have you an ancestry of boasted Anglo-Saxon renown, which for more than ten hundred years have made easy the pathway of eminence and fame to that race of people?’’ To these questions you replied, ‘‘none.’’ But, continuing, you were further asked: ‘‘Have you a heart full of the desire for knowledge and wisdom—a soul inspired with the truth of the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man, despite a long suffering and oppression of your race? Do you believe in your equal capacity under equal facilities and opportunities with all other men?’’ To which you eagerly replied: ‘‘Aye, and forever aye.’’ Then in clarion voice you were bade enter and be strong, and in the face of poverty and innumerable obstacles you commenced your labors. In the autumn you beheld the sere and yellow leaf falling and decomposing, and testifying, if not to total annihilation, to decay and change, typifying man’s mortality. Yet you did not falter, though in some cases, after more than twelve hours of manual as well as mental labor in the engagement of a livelihood you would appear at your recitations and lectures with faces lined with marks of toil and fatigue; but with a cheerful eye, a determination and a will, gladening the heart of your professor and teaching him and yourself how to learn ‘‘to labor and to wait.’’ In the spring time joyous nature clad in ﬂoral garb with her hill tops carpeted with green, and her valleys resonant with the music of the rippling brooks, gave new life to your studies which strengthened and made you strong. As the summer, the joyous summer of your life of study advanced and ripened into the fruition of your labors on the 24th day of April, your alma mater welcomed her sons to her bounty and conferred upon you your degrees, and on the 27th of May last you entered upon the stage of a lawyer’s life, to play your part in the arena of struggle for fame and name and wealth, and I trust, usefulness, by virtue of your diploma and the certiﬁcate of your efﬁciency in examination before the Supreme Court of the State. In this arena of lawyer’s life there are several stages. Below is the multitude of pettifoggers struggling for ﬁlthy lucre only and degrading the profession of law from the height of its great eminence and glory into the mire of selﬁshness, lying and trickery. The next

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stage is where you will ﬁnd a goodly crowd devoted simply to money-making, and utter strangers to the upbuilding of their fellow man. I bid you tarry not in these paths, but strive for the upper-story in your profession—remembering in the language attributed to Daniel Webster, when asked by a despondent young lawyer how he should rise to greatness in his profession amidst the struggles of the pettifogger below, and the competition just above, replied to him, ‘‘young man, there is room enough up stairs.’’ An experience of not more than ten years as a lawyer myself, gives me but little ability to teach you the ways to great height, but such as I have observed I offer you. First, in order to achieve great eminence in your profession you must fully realize and comprehend the width and the depth and the height of law; you must fully comprehend the extent of the word itself. Not only does law mean a rule of action prescribed by a superior to an inferior which he is bound to obey, as found in constitutions, in statutes and in the ordinances of every civilized government, but it is also co-extensive with every known branch of learning. Ascend the heights of science— it is there; traverse the mutifarious avenues of art—it is there too. Go among the poets and philosophers, converse with the healing art—it is there. Investigate the pyramids of Egypt and translate the hieroglyphics of her sons—it is there. Go down into the bowels of the earth and seek for wealth in minerals, or try to prove that every stratum, as shown in geology, is truly the antitype of its prototype, the history of the creation recorded in the ﬁrst book of Genesis. Enter the halls of legislatures, construe their statutes at the former and there you will ﬁnd the consummation drawn from history as of necessity. A lawyer has no bounds to the requisite acquirement of knowledge. Beginning with the true source of human law—human necessity—you must continue to erect a superstructure upon the foundation of wisdom, as found revealed in the Bible. You may then adorn the ediﬁce as it should be with the lights of poetry, science, art, established upon the foundation of morality and religion. The lawyer that barely knows the statutes of his State or country is like unto the man who is placed in charge of a locomotive, but has only a superﬁcial knowledge of its several parts, their names and their purposes. He is never safe when danger or emergency arises. He is all right so long as the engine runs smoothly, but should some contesting force appear he soon ﬁnds how ignorant he is of that general knowledge of the machinery, its origin and the laws governing its application. In such a condition he wishes he had engaged in some calling of which he was thoroughly the master. You must not only be equipped in general knowledge, but you must be strong of nerve and full of energy. In courts of justice you will encounter some judges who will in some instances endeavor to hold the scales of justice so high as not to be able to see the object weighed in the balance. In such instances you need nerve. You must never cease argument and proof until you have made him bring down his scales before his eyes, or close them shut against any prejudice towards your client. Be never guilty of contempt of court, nor be wanting in courage to show proper contempt for a contemptuous court, nevertheless be not highminded. Let your humility and good conduct secure the favor of bench and bar. Be of good character—character is that which we really are. When we labor to gain reputation we are not even taking the ﬁrst step towards the acquisition of character. In reputation you gain favor by something which pleases your neighbor apart frequently from the virtue of the acts. A wisely trained character never stops to ask what will society think of me if I do this thing or leave it undone. It tests the quality

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of an action by ascertaining whether it is just when judged by the laws of eternal right. Cultivate the good will of all men—politeness is a branch of good character, and remember that your juries come from the county of which county frequently you are. For while I would have you brave and courageous in battle for the right, be not puffed up so as to secure the ill will of men, for it is better to be a ‘‘living dog than a dead lion,’’ said the prophet. Have due respect for the patience of juries and remember that they are men having feelings to enjoy pleasure and to suffer pain. Do not let it be ever said of you as it is reported in a late number of the Central Law Journal of a young lawyer in his maiden speech. It says ‘‘he was ﬂorid rhetorical, scattering and windy. For four weary hours he talked at the Court until every body felt like lynching him; when he got through his opponent arose and said ‘‘your Honor’’ I will follow the example of my friend and submit the case without argument.’’ This position frequently arises when the young lawyer disregards plain Saxon in his speech and seeks to illumine his argument with rhetorical ﬂashes, so dazzling as to totally obscure the sight of his point and drive away judgement therefrom. Emulate in your profession, those who as lawyers have handed down to us examples at the forum worthy of emulation. As citizens and sons of South Carolina, you will ﬁnd among her annals lawyers, judges and jurists who have ennobled the profession by their unparalleled ability. I cite you to o’Neil, McDufﬁe, Parker, Hunt, and Legare; but it was not only in the ﬁeld of legal contest that they strove and conquered, but they were in the full sense of the term patriots, an attribute indispensable to the immortal honor and glory of a truly great man. It was more than legal ability which enabled lord Mansﬁeld, in his decision in the celebrated Somerset case brought before him under writ of Habeas Corpus, to try the right of an American master to withdraw his alleged slave from the shores of England to say ‘‘that the instant a slave landed in England he became a freeman, as the air of England is too pure for a slave to breathe in.’’ If you would combine that noble virtue, patriotism, with an efﬁciency in law and thus live for the good you can do, I would point you to a standard the highest achieved in English or American lines aye, the highest the world has ever seen. I point you to an American statesman and lawyer in whose patriotism this continent saw the noblest virtue, the greatest daring for good, the sublimest achievements for love of country and the unparalleled philanthropy of any human age. I point you to Charles Sumner, the American Socrates, Cicero and Demosthenes combined. He whose life as a lawyer was chieﬂy devoted to the enfranchisement, amelioration and elevation of a race of people oppressed for ages by a cruel bondage. The basis of all his actions at the forum, in the halls of legislation, on the rostrum, everywhere, was equality, which is true equity, the principles of which you have already listened to this evening from one of your number. He denounced all laws in which the equality of all men was not the primal reason. Never more conspicuously was this virtue seen in Charles Sumner than in his celebrated defense in the United States Senate in 1874 against the unjust annexation of the Black Republic of Havti to the United States. His keen eye and ﬁerce legal acumen quickly saw the political assassin’s hand at the throat of the young Republic, and with the eloquence of a Demosthenes, the legal knowledge of a Grotius, Vattel, or Puffendorf he exclaimed. ‘‘Foremost among admitted principles of international law is the axiom that all nations are equal without distinction of population, size or power. Nor does international law know any distinction of color. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, is the plan of law for all nations as for all men.’’

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Thus did he plead for the Black Republic, showing his love and his sympathy, not only for the American negro, but for him and for all men wherever found upon the face of the globe where the strong seek to oppress the weak. He would have done the same for the China-man or the Indian. His law extended to humanity at large, and was found, not in text books, but in the wants of man. Another good and great lawyer, whose knowledge of law shone forth in principles and not mere abstract theories, was Wendell Phillips. He knew no constitutions, laws, customs, traditions, nor usages which did not recognize the equality of rights for all men. Amidst the persecutions of a cruel slaveocracy which threatened his life, he bore onwards and upwards the banner of freedom for all men, and demanded from the American slave-holder the unconditional surrender of the constitutional and natural right of liberty to the slave. He was but a young lawyer when he commenced battle against slavery and for human rights. I point you to these men as the noblest and purest embodiment of what the lawyer should be. They have died and are no more with us, but their works and their lives are the brightest example for you. You are the legitimate fruit of the tree planted by them. Then, young gentlemen graduates, ‘‘Let all thou aim’st at be thy country, thy God’s and truth.’’ In this struggle you will ﬁnd conﬂict, false friends, a want of appreciation of your labors by the prejudiced and narrow-minded, nevertheless continue to battle for the right, and learn ‘‘to labor and to wait,’’ a lesson no less a virtue because most willingly taught by those for whom you labor most. ‘‘Lives of great men remind us We can make our lives sublime, And departing leave behind us Footsteps on the sands of time.’’ ‘‘Footprints that perchance another Sailing o’er life’s troubled main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother Seeing, shall take heart again.’’ You will encounter, as I have, and others of my profession and your profession, among our own race, prejudice, hostility and cold cheer, so that you will often feel like abandoning the law and seeking ﬁelds of labor more lucrative and congenial. But remember that money perishes with the life that made it, and fortune changes with the changes of time, but good works, built upon the pedestal of truth, will be more enduring than brass or marble. Prejudice once existed, to a great extent, among the white brethren of your profession, owing, as it is said, chieﬂy to our ignorance. As we grow by education and in knowledge the legal maxim, cessante ratione cessat lex applies. This is my experience among my white brethren in this city and elsewhere I have been. I have only asked for and demanded my privilege and my clients’ rights. Industry must form a chief feature—seek. ‘‘He who seeks shall ﬁnd, and to him that knocks the door shall be opened.’’ Now that you are about to commence active practice, let me beseech you to be industrious. Action is the soul of life; sympathy is its lever in action. Is there any citizen in this audience who purposes to chill the energy of these young men by refraining to give them their patronage, because they are afraid that they cannot obtain justice through a colored lawyer,

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thus aiding the very wrong you complain against? If so, let him stand and show his cowardly face, and then be banished as a traitor to his race. I trust there is none. ‘‘His be the praise who, looking down on scorn, consults his own clear heart, and nobly dares to be, not to be thought, an honest man.’’ It is the boast of the legal profession that it is equally capable of doing work in the elevation of humanity, with any other known calling. It is woven into the fabric of every civilization. Progress must be your watchword; the universe your ﬁeld. The doctrines taught in Blackstone and Kent will not fully teach you human nature nor human wants. You must read the works of great authors in order to broaden your ideas and enrich your thoughts. Read Dante for depth of conception; Milton for sublimity of idea; Macaulay for force of expression, Charles Dickens and Shakespeare for knowledge of the inner human nature and the Bible for wisdom and understanding.’’ ‘‘Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way— Put to act that each to-morrow Finds us farther than to-day.’’ Agitate! Agitate! Agitate is the surest course for securing right and conquering wrong. But I must warn you, if success attend your labors in any department of intellectual life—be not vain of your learning. Learning or knowledge is only excellent when it is useful to others. Let it be said of you, ‘‘His learning savors not the school-like gloss that most consists in echoing words and terms, and soonest wins a man an empty name.’’ Be it said of you, too, as a lawyer in your works of humanity, your love of justice, your conduct in struggling for the honor of your alma mater. Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, remember that of the profession you have chosen the great ecclesiastic Hooker has said: ‘‘Her seat is in the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world; all things in heaven and earth do her homage—the very least as feeling her care, the greatest as not exempt from her power, both angels and men and creatures of what condition soever, through each in different sort and manner; yet all with uniform consent, admiring her as the mother of their peace and joy.’’ Noble profession! Is it any wonder that of one of the most learned of its votaries, Sir William Blackstone, it is said that in his public line of life he approved himself an able, upright, impartial judge? That he was ever an active and judicious promoter of whatever he thought useful or advantageous to the public in general, or to any particular society or neighborhood he was connected with? That he was a believer in the great truths of Christianity from a thorough investigation of its evidence? Attached to the Church of England from conviction of its excellence, his principles were those of its genuine members—enlarged and tolerant. His religion was pure and unaffected, and his attendance upon its public duties regular, and those always performed with seriousness and devotion. His earliest wish was that he should die: ‘‘Untainted by the guilty bribe, Uncursed admidst the harpy tribe—

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No orphan’s cry to wound my ear— My honor and my conscience clear. Thus may I calmly meet my end, Thus to the grave in peace descend.’’ And so did Sir William Blackstone live and die, and so likewise, young gentlemen, may your lives be and terminate; for, remember, young gentlemen, the term of life is short. To spend that shortness basely, ‘twere too long. Though life did ride upon a dial’s point—still ending at the arrival of an hour. And as you go forth into the world in the pursuit of your profession, I bid you farewell and God speed. Source: At Bethel A.M.E. Church, Columbia, S.C. Atlanta, Georgia: Jas. P. Harrison & Co., printers and publishers, 1885. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A. P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

41. Emigration to Liberia, Report of the Standing committee on emigration of the Board of directors of the American colonization society, unanimously adopted, Washington D.C.: January 20, 1885 The American Colonization Society (ACS) movement began sometime in the nineteenth century. From the start, colonization of free blacks in Africa was an issue that divided both whites and blacks. Some blacks supported immigration because they thought that black Americans would never receive justice in the United States. Others believed African Americans should remain in the United States to ﬁght against slavery and for full legal rights as American citizens. Some whites saw colonization as a way of ridding the nation of blacks, while others believed black Americans would be happier in Africa or elsewhere, where they could live free of racial discrimination. Still others believed black American colonists could play a central role in Christianizing and civilizing Africa. The ACS was formed in 1817 to send free African Americans to Africa as an alternative to emancipation in the United States. In 1822, the society established a colony on the west coast of Africa, and in 1847 it became the independent nation of Liberia. By 1867, the society had sent more than 13,000 immigrants to Liberia. The society was attacked by abolitionists, who tried to discredit colonization as a slaveholder’s scheme. And, after the Civil War, when many blacks wanted to go to Liberia, ﬁnancial support for colonization had waned. This is a report from the Standing Committee on Emigration of the Board of Directors of the American Colonization Society, unanimously adopted January 20, 1885. The times are changed! Wondrous events combine to turn the world’s thought at this moment to the ‘‘Dark Continent.’’ The Congo is drawing to itself the activities of nations as never before since the pyramids were built. As a spider builds his web, beginning with a single thread here and there, attaching the ends to various objects, so does a power in mankind’s history weave the texture of human vicissitude. It is a marvelous chapter in this human story which has been written in America. Slaves torn from home and kindred were forced into this country by cruel European greed. From these slaves, then, the most miserable, have sprung nearly seven millions of the colored race, long held here in bondage, but at

41. Emigration to Liberia, Report of the Standing Committee

the same time brought into contact with Christian civilization, ﬁnally emancipated, enfranchised, and beginning to be educated. This is one thread. About seventy years ago a few philanthropists, with far-seeing vision, organized for the purpose of creating a home on the Western coast of Africa for such of these people as could and would return to the Fatherland. The Republic of Liberia has been the result. There is now a focus of light from which the rays may spread across the whole breadth of that long darkness. This is another thread. England, the same Power that so long winked at ‘‘the middle passage’’ while the forefathers were dragged across the seas and bound in chains in her colonies here, is to-day hovering on the northwestern borders of the infant nation, having within two years past torn from its grasp a large territory, and, if all signs do not fail, is preparing to repeat the act on the southeast borders. Here is a strip of country ready for occupation, and inviting immigrants to come and possess the virgin soil, with all the richness of its productions. This is another thread. Social and political equality, however fair in name and theory, is difﬁcult in practice as between races so distinct as African and Caucasian. Twenty years of trial here has been sufﬁcient to convince large numbers of the colored people who at ﬁrst spurned the idea of going to Africa that their proper home is there, and there the ﬁtting ﬁeld for working out their destiny. This is another thread. And so the loom of Providence weaves on! Amazing threads they all are, but the pattern is from an Omnipotent hand! Here stands the old Colonization Society alive to-day, while many thought it dead, and as yet about the only ear to listen at the telephone call and gather up the cry which comes from all parts of the land where these African people dwell; and the cry is louder and more intense and multitudinous month by month. Consider the appeals which roll in upon the Society almost every day in proof of the singular truth. The last month illustrates what has been going on for some time past, but now apparently there more earnestly than ever: December 1st, 1884, Landsford, S. C., one of them writes: Tell us how to get to Liberia—to Africa; our people are sick and tired of this country, and want to go home; 500 men and women of whom I am the teacher are ready to go at once. December 8th, 1884, Denison, Texas, another writes: I wrote you about seven years ago, and received a few papers. The mass of our people are poorer than they were eight years ago. We want now to go to Africa. What is the latest news? Can you tell us all about it? What can you do for sending us? How and when can we get there, and what are the conditions? All early answer will confer a favor ‘‘on a great crowd of us.’’ We do not give the exact language, but the substance. December 12th, 1884, from the same place, another writes: A great many of us are making preparations to go to Liberia, and we want direct information in regard to the whole affair. He asks these questions: 1st. How many families must we collect before we can be sent? 2d. Can we go on shipboard at Galveston? 3d. Do we send any money, and to whom? The same day, Darlington, S. C., J. P. Brockenton, pastor of Macedonia Baptist Church, of more than 1,000 members, 48 years old, with wife and children, writes, applying for passage to Liberia. From his own accounts he must be an important man. He is President of the South Carolina State Baptist Convention, Moderator of

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the District Association, Trustee of the free School Board of Darlington County, and Life Director of the Home Mission Society. He wants to go to Africa, he says— 1st. Because I want to continue my good work for the Master. 2d. Because I think my Christian inﬂuence is more needed there than here. 3d. Because the harvest in Africa is great, but the laborers are few. 4th. Because my children are trained teachers or mechanics, and as such can assist in building up our Fatherland. 5th. Because my condition as a man will be better established and my work as a minister better appreciated. Pretty sound and sensible reasons. He says he is poor, and if the Society can aid him he will he thankful. December 21st, 1884, Waco, Texas, a correspondent, who is a superintendent, writes: We have organized a Bureau of Home and Foreign Missions in our Baptist State Convention. (The Baptists appear to be plentiful.) They are collecting money to send two messengers to Liberia to obtain information. He is now making up a colony to leave for Liberia in 1886. It will be from 1,500 to 2,000 strong. If they can get sufﬁcient information from the American Colonization Society they will not send the two messengers. He says we may see what they are doing in the South to get to the Fatherland. He wants all kinds of information about the matter. He says they are raising about $500 per month; that it costs the Society $100 per head to take them out and support them for six months. ‘‘I mean business. If we come to you 2,000 strong, can’t you make it less than that? Help us all you can, and let me know at once how many can go in one ship at a time.’’ December 24th, 1884, one writes again from Denison, Texas: There are 62 already in our company. What are your lowest terms? We have 35 farmers, 4 school-teachers, 1 cabinet-maker, 6 ministers, 4 hotel and steamboat cooks, 2 brick-makers, 4 blacksmiths, 4 carpenters, 2 well-diggers, and a good many laborers. Please don’t get impatient at our asking questions, for we want to be all right when we get to the ship. December 27th, 1884, Homer, Louisiana, another writes, saying he seeks a home for a poor black man; he wants to know all about Liberia; he wants to get where he can be free; says he is not free here by a long ways. What will it take to put me and my wife over? December 31st, 1884, from Darlington, S. C., again from our friend Brockenton, who now signs himself Secretary of the Club. He acknowledges receipt of books, papers, &c. Says he can’t be ready to go till October; that a colony will go with him. He gives quite a description of the personnel of his colony; says they expect to be organized into a church before sailing. He predicts great good from this company. They are in all 43 persons, with more to be added. The same day, from Lynchburg, S. C., a bright man writes of the progress the colored people are making there and elsewhere in the South for emigration. He says there is the greatest unrest among them ever known. Large numbers are going to the West, but the best portion are preparing to make their way to Liberia. The Clarendon Club wants information, and he writes at their request. He says they will plant large crops of cotton, so as to raise money in the fall. He is Secretary of the Clarendon and Williamsburg Clubs. He is without means to travel as he wishes, to stimulate the people; and in view of this, wants circulars and documents from us to spread ABROAD.

41. Emigration to Liberia, Report of the Standing Committee

The same day, from Waco, Texas, another writes that the people of his county wish to send him to Liberia to bring back a report of the land. He wants to know if he can go. He says the condition of his people is deplorable; that he learns that a whole county of them are going to Kansas; that hundreds are coming from North Carolina to Arkansas—out of the pan, into the ﬁre. What do horses and cows cost in Liberia? Could you send over my piano? My house is worth $1,000; I was offered $600 for it. He wants to sell and get away; says himself and wife are at our service if we can make any use of them. January 1st, 1885, Chambersburg, Pa., a colored woman writes: We are now really preparing to leave this country. She has lost a former letter, and wants to hear again; says there are eight of them ready to go in May. ‘‘Will they be crowded out?’’ ‘‘We have been a long time getting ready, but the Spirit says, Go! and we must abide God’s will.’’ Several other families wish to go, especially one that comes from Alabama, where times are hard for colored people. January 3d, 1885, Kansas City, Mo., a prudent man writes: Would I be safe to start for Liberia with $100 and ﬁve children? A great many people here would be glad to go, but they have no information. I am a kalsominer by trade. Would I be of any use when I get there? The same day, from Denison, Texas, a sharp man writes, asking for full information about emigration to Liberia. He and several others wish to go there. He says they ‘‘are very well equipped, with wealth and literature enough to get there and straighten up and straighten out. Write soon, and let us know.’’ January 7th, 1885, Forestville, N. C., another writes that he is making preparation to go to Liberia. He sees so many colored people awaking to the project of going, because of their oppressions in this country. ‘‘We want to reach Africa, the home of the free. Is there any chance for me?’’ Such is the burden of the cry from all quarters of the land. What does it mean? Our Society has absolutely done nothing to awaken this intense longing for Africa among the colored people. No means have been employed by us to stir up so deep and general a feeling, unless our circulars and documents for the spread of information may have contributed to it; otherwise, not a whisper from us has been heard. The cry is spontaneous. One of the correspondents above cited seems to have expressed the secret—‘‘The Spirit says, Go!’’ What other conclusion can we reach? God’s hand is in it, weaving the web of His Providence for Africa. But we would not just now encourage a wholesale exodus. The vast preparation must no doubt be gradual, as all great things are. In the ancient exodus from Africa the people were held for forty years in the wilderness prior to their possession of the Promised Land. The ﬁrst emigrants to Liberia were sent by this Society in 1820, and we have not failed to send some each year since. The last company of forty-seven was sent last October—in all nearly 16,000 persons, exclusive of 5,722 recaptured Africans—at the cost of $3,000,000—the muniﬁcent gift of American Christian philanthropy. At the present time there are on the soil of Liberia about 25,000 souls, comprising the American immigrants and their children, with the recaptured Africans who have settled there, and one million of the native population, enjoying the advantages of the Republic and amenable to its laws, while remoter tribes are pressing down towards the infant Republic as to a centre of brighter hope. There is a coast-line of 500 miles—extending indeﬁnitely inland. This was recently diminished 40 miles by the arbitrary power of England; and about the same extent is coming

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into dispute on the southeast. It is believed that Liberia could now absorb and assimilate 10,000 persons, especially immigrants from the mother Republic versed in the customs, manners, and laws of a Republican Christian Government. If this population could be transferred to Liberia in the next two years it would probably settle the boundary question now in dispute, besides being of incalculable advantage in many other ways. They would hardly be missed among us out of a colored population rapidly multiplying, and which by natural increase has nearly doubled during the last score of years, but immense good might ﬂow through them to Liberia and the whole continent. That many are waking up to this idea, and are ready to leave this country for the land of their forefathers, is evinced, as we have seen, from the constantly-increasing applications for aid to this end. These come in upon us from all quarters and through all channels—through the correspondence of private individuals, members and ofﬁcers of churches, clubs, and various organizations, and even through Government Departments and through the Christian agencies of our great commercial cities. The one fact we would emphasize is this: The only hope of lifting Africa up to continental equality and prominence lies not merely in National diplomacy and the jealousy of States, nor in the greed of misers, nor in the craft of unprincipled traders and sharpers who pour out upon the soil, which their touch pollutes, all the vices and wrongs and refuse of modern civilization, but it is mainly in the Christian colony, which is in some sense a Christian mission among stranger tribes of men. This is the voice of history—certainly of modern history. America was redeemed at last by the Christian pilgrims of Europe, who imbued its growing life with the spirit of Christian civilization, and stamped upon its institutions the impress of morality and of Christian faith. Such a power as this is alone adequate to build another Republic like our own from the Atlantic to the Indian Oceans. It is a marvelous fact that now, simultaneously with the opening of that Continent, such a general desire among our colored people to go to it should spring up so intensely. What a wonderful thread this is in the stupendous web of Providence! And into our hands the grand mission of opening Africa to the splendid realizations of the future is in a very special sense committed, since we are the only Nation on the face of the earth outside of Africa herself that has the ﬁtting material in our colored population; and all signs point to our duty in this respect. The times are ripe for a powerful onward movement in this direction. The two thrilling reports rendered by the Committee on Emigration—one of a year ago and one of the year preceding—were as a bugle blast, calling mankind to action. No form of words could be more eloquent or piercing than the language of those reports. They state the case to the American people with all the cogency of logic, the ﬁre of poetry, and the pathos almost of inspiration. They have been widely circulated; and this seed, so scattered, may yield—Heaven grant it—a rich and plentiful harvest. But at the opening of another year in the history of this Society we stand confronted with one great necessity, one speciﬁc work, which ought to be immediately taken up and accomplished; this is, to put 10,000 of our choicest colored population into Liberia as soon as it is found to be practicable. It will cost a million dollars! What are our resources—what our means of doing it? The abundance of our own country, the thousands and millions of money in the hands of prosperous capitalists

42. The Future of the Colored Race, May 1886

and churchmen, and the everplethoric Treasury of the Government itself. But how shall we open these mighty coffers? What key can unlock our way to the hoarded treasure? We have tried commissioned agents, but the effort has been practically a failure. What, then, is left us? 1. Personal appeals to well-known rich philanthropists. 2. Concise, comprehensive, pointed, speciﬁc appeals through the religious and secular press of the country. 3. The same kind of appeal to the Christian clergy, and through them to the entire membership of the churches. 4. An earnest, temperate, emphatic appeal to Congress and the Government.

They have loaned a million dollars to the New Orleans Exposition. Great as that is or ought to be, is it any more; on the welfare of mankind than it would be for the same sum to secure the future of the daughter Republic, and through her the Christian civilization of the entire Continent? This would indeed be a glorious consummation! Everything calls for it—everything incites to it. A million dollars in two years for the redemption of that vast territory with its hundred and ﬁfty or two hundred millions of people—what a splendid golden thread would this be in the mighty loom of Providence; in this Divine pattern of human destiny; this august design of the Inﬁnite Reason; this lofty work of the hands of the Eternal! B. SUNDERLAND, CHARLES C. NOTT, JAMES SAUL, Committee. Washington, D. C., January 20th, 1885. Source: Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, African American Pamphlet Collection.

42. The Future of the Colored Race, May 1886 FREDERICK DOUGLASS In this essay, abolitionist Frederick Douglass discusses the assimilation of the Africans into the American society. It is quite impossible, at this early date, to say with any decided emphasis what the future of the colored people will be. Speculations of that kind, thus far, have only reﬂected the mental bias and education of the many who have essayed to solve the problem. We all know what the negro has been as a slave. In this relation we have his experience of two hundred and ﬁfty years before us, and can easily know the character and qualities he has developed and exhibited during this long and severe ordeal. In his new relation to his environments, we see him only in the twilight of twenty years of semi-freedom; for he has scarcely been free long enough to outgrow the marks of the lash on his back and the fetters on his limbs. He stands before us, today, physically, a maimed and mutilated man. His mother was lashed to agony before the birth of her babe, and the bitter anguish of the mother is seen in the countenance of her offspring. Slavery has twisted his limbs, shattered his feet, deformed his body and distorted his features. He remains black, but no longer comely. Sleeping on the dirt ﬂoor of the slave cabin in infancy, cold on one side and warm on the other, a forced circulation of blood on the one side and chilled

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and retarded circulation on the other, it has come to pass that he has not the vertical bearing of a perfect man. His lack of symmetry, caused by no fault of his own, creates a resistance to his progress which cannot well be overestimated, and should be taken into account, when measuring his speed in the new race of life upon which he has now entered. As I have often said before, we should not measure the negro from the heights which the white race has attained, but from the depths from which he has come. You will not ﬁnd Burke, Grattan, Curran and O’Connell among the oppressed and famished poor of the famine-stricken districts of Ireland. Such men come of comfortable antecedents and sound parents. Laying aside all prejudice in favor of or against race, looking at the negro as politically and socially related to the American people generally, and measuring the forces arrayed against him, I do not see how he can survive and ﬂourish in this country as a distinct and separate race, nor do I see how he can be removed from the country either by annihilation or expatriation. Sometimes I have feared that, in some wild paroxysm of rage, the white race, forgetful of the claims of humanity and the precepts of the Christian religion, will proceed to slaughter the negro in wholesale, as some of that race have attempted to slaughter Chinamen, and as it has been done in detail in some districts of the Southern States. The grounds of this fear, however, have in some measure decreased, since the negro has largely disappeared from the arena of Southern politics, and has betaken himself to industrial pursuits and the acquisition of wealth and education, though even here, if over-prosperous, he is likely to excite a dangerous antagonism; for the white people do not easily tolerate the presence among them of a race more prosperous than themselves. The negro as a poor ignorant creature does not contradict the race pride of the white race. He is more a source of amusement to that race than an object of resentment. Malignant resistance is augmented as he approaches the plane occupied by the white race, and yet I think that that resistance will gradually yield to the pressure of wealth, education, and high character. My strongest conviction as to the future of the negro therefore is, that he will not be expatriated nor annihilated, nor will he forever remain a separate and distinct race from the people around him, but that he will be absorbed, assimilated, and will only appear ﬁnally, as the Phoenicians now appear on the shores of the Shannon, in the features of a blended race. I cannot give at length my reasons for this conclusion, and perhaps the reader may think that the wish is father to the thought, and may in his wrath denounce my conclusion as utterly impossible. To such I would say, tarry a little, and look at the facts. Two hundred years ago there were two distinct and separate streams of human life running through this country. They stood at opposite extremes of ethnological classiﬁcation: all black on the one side, all white on the other. Now, between these two extremes, an intermediate race has arisen, which is neither white nor black, neither Caucasian nor Ethiopian, and this intermediate race is constantly increasing. I know it is said that marital alliance between these races is unnatural, abhorrent and impossible; but exclamations of this kind only shake the air. They prove nothing against a stubborn fact like that which confronts us daily and which is open to the observation of all. If this blending of the two races were impossible we should not have at least one-fourth of our colored population composed of persons of mixed blood, ranging all the way from a dark-brown color to the point where there is no visible admixture. Besides, it is obvious to

42. The Future of the Colored Race, May 1886

common sense that there is no need of the passage of laws, or the adoption of other devices, to prevent what is in itself impossible. Of course this result will not be reached by any hurried or forced processes. It will not arise out of any theory of the wisdom of such blending of the two races. If it comes at all, it will come without shock or noise or violence of any kind, and only in the fullness of time, and it will be so adjusted to surrounding conditions as hardly to be observed. I would not be understood as advocating intermarriage between the two races. I am not a propagandist, but a prophet. I do not say that what I say should come to pass, but what I think is likely to come to pass, and what is inevitable. While I would not be understood as advocating the desirability of such a result, I would not be understood as deprecating it. Races and varieties of the human family appear and disappear, but humanity remains and will remain forever. The American people will one day be truer to this idea than now, and will say with Scotia’s inspired son: ‘‘A man’s a man for a’ that.’’ When that day shall come, they will not pervert and sin against the verity of language as they now do by calling a man of mixed blood, a negro; they will tell the truth. It is only prejudice against the negro which calls every one, however nearly connected with the white race, and however remotely connected with the negro race, a negro. The motive is not a desire to elevate the negro, but to humiliate and degrade those of mixed blood; not a desire to bring the negro up, but to cast the mulatto and the quadroon down by forcing him below an arbitrary and hated color line. Men of mixed blood in this country apply the name ‘‘negro’’ to themselves, not because it is a correct ethnological description, but to seem especially devoted to the black side of their parentage. Hence in some cases they are more noisily opposed to the conclusion to which I have come, than either the white or the honestly black race. The opposition to amalgamation, of which we hear so much on the part of colored people, is for most part the merest affectation, and, will never form an impassable barrier to the union of the two varieties. Source: Editor James Russell Lowell. North American Review, 142. Boston, MA: May 1886. CopyC 1999, by the Rector and Visitors of the University of Virginia. Courtesy of The University right of Virginia Library.

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Voices of the African American Experience

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Voices of the African American Experience VOLUME 2 Edited by Lionel C. Bascom

GREENWOOD PRESS Westport, Connecticut ¥ London

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Voices of the African American experience / edited by Lionel C. Bascom. 3 v. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-313-34347-6 (set) — ISBN 978-0-313-34349-0 (vol. 1) — ISBN 978-0-313-34351-3 (vol. 2) — ISBN 978-0-313-34353-7 (vol. 3) 1. African Americans—History—Sources. I. Bascom, Lionel C. E184. 6. V65 2009 2008056155 9730 .0496073—dc22 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available. Copyright C 2009 by Lionel C. Bascom All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, by any process or technique, without the express written consent of the publisher. Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2008056155 ISBN: 978-0-313-34347-6 978-0-313-34349-0 978-0-313-34351-3 978-0-313-34353-7

(set) (vol 1) (vol 2) (vol 3)

First published in 2009 Greenwood Press, 88 Post Road West, Westport, CT 06881 An imprint of Greenwood Publishing Group, Inc. www.greenwood.com Printed in the United States of America

The paper used in this book complies with the Permanent Paper Standard issued by the National Information Standards Organization (Z39.48-1984). 10 9 8 7

6 5 4 3

2 1

Every reasonable effort has been made to trace the owners of copyright materials in this book, but in some instances this has proven impossible. The author and publisher will be glad to receive information leading to more complete acknowledgments in subsequent printings of the book and in the meantime extend their apologies for any omissions.

Contents Preface Introduction Chronology

xiii xvii xxi VOLUME 1

1. A Narrative Of the Uncommon Sufferings, And Surprizing Delieverance Of Briton Hammon, A Negro Man,—Servant to General Winslow, Of Marshﬁeld, in New-England; Who returned to Boston, after having been absent almost Thirteen Years. Containing An Account of the many Hardships he underwent from the Time he left his Master’s House, in the Year 1747, to the Time of his Return to Boston.—How he was Cast away in the Capes of Florida;—the horrid Cruelty and inhuman Barbarity of the Indians in murdering the whole Ship’s Crew;—the Manner of his being carry’d by them into Captivity. Also, An Account of his being Conﬁned Four Years and Seven Months in a close Dungeon,—And the remarkable Manner in which he met with his good old Master in London; who returned to New-England, a Passenger, in the same Ship, by Briton Hammon, 1760 2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life of James Albert Ukawsaw Gronniosaw, an African Prince, written by himself, 1774 3. Notes on the State of Virginia, by Thomas Jefferson, 1782 4. An Address to the Negroes in the State of New-York, by Jupiter Hammon, 1787 5. The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, 1789 6. The Fugitive Slave Act, U.S. Congress, 1793 7. Printed Letter, by Anthony New, 1794 8. A Narrative of the Life and Adventures of Venture: A Native of Africa, but Resident above Sixty Years in the United States of America, Related by Himself, 1798 9. The Confessions of Nat Turner, the Leader of the Late Insurrection in Southampton, Virginia, 1832 10. John Quincy Adams diary 41, 5 December 1836–4 January 1837, 29 July 1840–31 December 1841

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vi Contents

11. Illinois State Legislator Abraham Lincoln Opposes Slavery, March 3, 1837 12. The Church and Prejudice, by Frederick Douglass, November 4, 1841 13. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave, Written by Himself, 1845 14. Farewell to the British People: An Address Delivered in London, England, March 30, 1847, by Frederick Douglass 15. Narrative of the life and adventures of Henry Bibb, an American slave, written by himself, 1849 16. Excerpted from ‘‘Uncle Tom’s Story of His Life’’ an Autobiography of the Rev. Josiah Henson (Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe’s ‘‘Uncle Tom’’), from 1789 to 1876 17. The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro, by Frederick Douglass, July 5, 1852 18. Choice Thoughts and Utterances of Wise Colored People 19. Essay on Slavery Conditions, by Francis Henderson, 1856 20. Supreme Court of the United States in Dred Scott v. John F. Sanford, March 6, 1857 21. Speech by Abraham Lincoln on the Dred Scott Decision and Slavery, June 26, 1857 22. Our Nig; or, Sketches from the Life of a Free Black, in a Two-Story White House, North, by Harriet E. Wilson, 1859 23. Letters on American Slavery from Victor Hugo, de Tocqueville, Emile de Girardin, Carnot, Passy, Mazzini, Humboldt, O. Lafayette—&c, 1860 24. Correspondence between Lydia Maria Child and Gov. Wise and Mrs. Mason, of Virginia, 1860 25. The Constitution of the United States: Is It Pro-Slavery or Anti-Slavery?, by Frederick Douglass, March 26, 1860 26. History of American abolitionism: its four great epochs, embracing narratives of the ordinance of 1787, compromise of 1820, annexation of Texas, Mexican war, Wilmot proviso, negro insurrections, abolition riots, slave rescues, compromise of 1850, Kansas bill of 1854, John Brown insurrection, 1859, valuable statistics, &c., &c., &c., together with a history of the southern confederacy, by F.G. De Fontaine, 1861 27. George Wils to Writer’s Sister, March 18, 1861 28. ‘‘Fighting Rebels with Only One Hand,’’ Douglass’ Monthly [The North Star], September 1861 29. Excerpt from The Gullah Proverbs of 1861, Down by the Riverside: A South Carolina Slave Community, by Charles Joyner 30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal, report of E. L. Pierce, to the Hon. Salmon P. Chase, U.S. Secretary of the Treasury, 1862 31. The Emancipation Proclamation, 1863 32. William Tell Barnitz to the Pennsylvania Daily Telegraph, March 27, 1863

58 59 61 62 62

65 66 71 74 75 76 84

87 100 117

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Contents vii

33. Sojourner Truth, The Libyan Sibyl, by Harriet Beecher Stowe, April 1863 34. The Negro in the Regular Army, by Oswald Garrison Villard 35. Our alma mater: Notes on an address delivered at Concert Hall on the occasion of the Twelfth Annual Commencement of the Institute for Colored Youth, by Alumni Association, May 10, 1864 36. Excerpt reprinted from ‘‘A Colored Man’s Reminiscences of James Madison’’ 37. What the Black Man Wants: a speech delivered by Frederick Douglass at the Annual Meeting of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society in Boston, April 1865 38. 14th Amendment, 1866 39. Letter from Amelia [Unknown family name] to brother Eddie, December 11, 1869 40. First Annual Address to the Law Graduates of Allen University, class 1884, given by D. Augustus Straker, June 12, 1884 41. Emigration to Liberia, Report of the Standing committee on emigration of the Board of directors of the American colonization society, unanimously adopted, Washington D.C.: January 20, 1885 42. The Future of the Colored Race, by Frederick Douglass, May 1886

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VOLUME 2 43. Common Sense in Common Schooling: a sermon by Alex. Crummell, Rector of St. Luke’s Church, Washington, D.C., September 13, 1886 44. The Wonderful Eventful Life of Rev. Thomas James, by himself, 1887 45. A memorial souvenir of Rev. J. Wofford White, Pastor of Wesley M.E. Church, Charleston, S.C., who fell asleep, January 7th, 1890, aged 33 years, by George C. Rowe Clinton, 1890 46. What the Southern Negro is Doing for Himself, by Samuel J. Barrows, June 1891 47. In memoriam: Sarah Partridge Spofford: born November 10, 1823, departed May 11, 1892, Substance of address by Rev. R. R. Shippen at the funeral service, May 13, 1892 48. A Noble Life: Memorial Souvenir of Rev. Jos. C. Price, D.D, by George C. Rowe Clinton, 1894 49. Light beyond the Darkness, by Frances E.W. Harper, 189-(?) 50. Excerpted from Afro-American encyclopedia, or, the thoughts, doings, and sayings of the race: embracing addresses, lectures, biographical sketches, sermons, poems, names of universities, colleges, seminaries, newspapers, books, and a history of the denominations, giving the numerical strength of each. In fact, it teaches every subject of interest to the colored people, as dicussed by more than one hundred of their

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51. 52. 53. 54. 55.

56. 57. 58. 59. 60.

61. 62.

63. 64. 65. 66.

67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72.

wisest and best men and women, compiled and arranged by James T. Haley, 1895 Sermon preached by Rev. G. V. Clark, at Second Congregational Church, Memphis, Tenn., Sunday morning June 16, 1895 The Atlanta Compromise, by Booker T. Washington, 1895 The higher education of the colored people of the South, remarks of Hugh M. Browne, of Washington D.C., 1896 Supreme Court of the United States in Plessy vs. Ferguson 163 U.S. 537, 1896 Address of Booker T. Washington, delivered at the alumni dinner of Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts, after receiving the honorary degree of ‘‘Master of Arts,’’ June 24, 1896 How shall the colored youth of the South be educated?, by A. D. Mayo, 1897 ‘‘Lift Every Voice and Sing,’’ or, ‘‘The Negro National Anthem,’’ by James Weldon Johnson and John R. Johnson Commentary on The Progress of Colored Women, by Mary Church Terrell, by Richard T. Greener, 1898 A Century of Negro Migration, by Carter G. Woodson An address by Booker T. Washington, prin., Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Tuskegee, Alabama: delivered under the auspices of the Armstrong Association, Lincoln Day exercises, at the Madison Square Garden Concert Hall, New York, N.Y., February 12, 1898 The Progress of Colored Women, by Mary Church Terrell, 1898 The Literary souvenir, by Miss Rosena C. Palmer, Miss Lizzie L. Nelson, Miss Lizzie B. Williams … [et al.], Volume 1, 1898 A Negro Schoolmaster in the New South, by W. E. Burghardt DuBois, 1899 A prayer: words by B. G. Brawley, music by Arthur Hilton Ryder, 1899 The Hardwick Bill: an interview in the Atlanta Constitution, by Booker T. Washington, 1900 Nineteenth annual report of the principal of the Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Tuskegee, Alabama, for the year ending May 31, 1900, submitted by Booker T. Washington Paths of Hope for the Negro: Practical Suggestions of a Southerner, by Jerome Dowd, 1900 The Freedmen’s Bureau, by W. E. Burghardt DuBois, March 1901 The Free Colored People of North Carolina, by Charles Waddell Chesnutt, 1902 Of the Training of Black Men, by W. E. B. DuBois, September 1902 The Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U.S.A., An address to the American Negro, 1907 The Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U.S.A., An address to the American Negro, on ‘‘Separate but Equal’’ doctrines, 1907

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73. The Flat Hunters: a Musical Satire on Moving Day, by Junie McCree, 1914 74. The Negro Genius, by Benjamin Brawley, May 1915 75. Excerpt from the Marcus Garvey and Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA) Papers, 1919 76. A Century of Negro Migration, Chapter 10, by Carter Godwin Woodson 77. The Soul of White Folks, by W. E. B. DuBois, 1920 78. Declaration of Rights of the Negro Peoples of the World, 1920 79. The Eruption of Tulsa, by Walter White, June 29, 1921 80. The Autobiography of Marcus Garvey, 1923 81. Harlem, by Alain Locke, March 1925 82. Enter the New Negro, by Alain Locke, March 1925 83. African Fundamentalism, by Marcus Garvey, 1925 84. A Piece of Saw, by Theodore Ledyard Browne, May 1929 85. The South Speaks, by John Henry Hammond, Jr., April 26, 1933 86. The Pullman Porters Win, by Edward Berman, August 21, 1935 87. Deadhead: A Pullman Porter Steps Out of Character, by Jessie Carter, August 1935 88. September Ghost Town–Almost: The Depression Hits a Negro Town, by Isabel M. Thompson and Louise T. Clarke, September 1935 89. Harlem: Dark Weather-Vane, by Alain Locke, August 1936 90. Twenty-one Negro Spirituals, Americana No. 3, Recorded by So. Carolina Project Workers, Efﬁngham, South Carolina, 1937 91. Amateur Night in Harlem, ‘‘That’s Why Darkies Were Born,’’ by Dorothy West, 1938 92. Temple of Grace, by Dorothy West, 1938

374 375 377 379 385 395 399 401 409 412 419 421 426 430 433 436 438 447 454 457

VOLUME 3 93. Game Songs and Rhymes, interview with Mrs. Laura M, by Dorothy West, October 1938 94. Afternoon in a Pushcart Peddler’s Colony, by Frank Byrd, December 1938 95. Matt Henson, North Pole explorer retires, by Theodore Poston, 1938–1939 96. Midlothian, Illinois: A Folklore in the Making, by Alfred O. Phillipp, 1939 97. Cocktail Party: Personal Experience, Harlem Hostess, by Dorothy West, 1939 98. Down in the West Indies, by Ellis Williams, January 1939 99. Laundry Workers, by Vivian Morris, March 1939 100. Worker’s Alliance, by Vivian Morris, May 1939 101. ‘‘Early in the Morning,’’ sung by Hollis (Fat Head) Washington, May 23–25, 1939 102. ‘‘Got a Woman on the Bayou,’’ sung by Ross (Po’ Chance) Williams, Field Holler, May 23–25, 1939

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103. ‘‘If She Don’t Come on de Big Boat,’’ sung by W.D. (Alabama) Stewart, Field Holler, May 23–25, 1939 104. Jim Cole, Negro Packinghouse Worker, by Betty Burke, July 1939 105. Negro Life on a Farm, Mary Johnson, by Mrs. Ina B. Hawkes, October 27, 1939 106. Coonjine in Manhattan, by Garnett Laidlaw Eskew, 1939 107. Harlem Parties, by Al Thayer, as told to Frank Byrd, 1939–1940 108. Excerpt from Twelve Million Black Voices, by Richard Wright, 1941 109. The Woman at the Well, by James Baldwin, 1941 110. In a Harlem Cabaret, by O’Neill Carrington, 1942 111. Rendezvous with Life: An Interview with Countee Cullen, by James Baldwin, 1942 112. Executive Order 9981, issued by President Harry S. Truman on July 26, 1948 113. Taking Jim Crow out of uniform: A. Philip Randolph and the desegregation of the U.S. military—Special Report: The Integrated Military—50 Years, by Karin Chenoweth 114. Ralph Bunche Biography, From Nobel Lectures, Peace 1950 115. Nobel Peace Prize Winner Ralph Bunche, Acceptance Speech, 1950 116. FBI Investigation of Malcolm X, 1925–1964 117. Supreme Court of the United States in Brown vs. Board of Education, 1954 118. Negro as an American, by Lyndon B. Johnson, Robert C. Weaver, Joseph P. Lyford, and John Cogley, 1963 119. President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Address Before a Joint Session of the Congress, November 27, 1963 120. Excerpts from 78 Stat. 241, The Civil Rights Act of 1964 121. ‘‘The Ballot or the Bullet,’’ delivered by Malcolm X in Cleveland, April 3, 1964 122. President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Radio and Television Remarks Upon Signing the Civil Rights Bill, July 2, 1964 123. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 124. The Equal Employment Opportunity Act, 1965 125. Statement on the Articles of Impeachment, by Barbara Charline Jordan, July 25, 1974 126. 1976 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, by Barbara Charline Jordan, July 12, 1976 127. Q & A with Singer Alberta Hunter, by talk show host Dick Cavett, 1978 128. 1984 Democratic National Convention Address, by Jesse Jackson, July 18, 1984 129. 1988 Democratic National Convention Address, by Jesse Jackson, July 19, 1988 130. Dorothy Gilliam interview, 1992 131. Oral History of Bassist Chuck Rainey, by Will Lee, 1992 132. Minister Louis Farrakhan Challenges Black Men—remarks made during the Million Man March, October 17, 1995

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133. The Oral History of Ruth Spaulding Boyd, interviewed by Serena Rhodie, 1996 134. The Oral History of Nathaniel B. White, interviewed by Robb Carroll, 1996 135. From ‘‘Diana Ross,’’ by Jill Hamilton from Rolling Stone, November 13, 1997 136. Interview with Dr. William Anderson, June 16, 1998 137. The Temptations Interview, by Billboard Magazine, July 22, 2000 138. 2000 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, by Congressman Harold Ford, Jr., August 15, 2000 139. Excerpts from ‘‘Al Foster: Drummer, Gentleman, Scholar,’’ Modern Drummer Magazine, April 2003 140. Excerpts from ‘‘Steve Smith: Confessions of an Ethnic Drummer,’’ by Bill Milkowski, Modern Drummer Magazine, May 2003 141. 2004 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, by Barack Obama, July 27, 2004 142. 2004 Democratic National Convention Address, by Reverend Al Sharpton, July 28, 2004 143. Cindy Birdsong: Supreme Replacement, by Jim Bagley, March 16, 2007 144. A More Perfect Union Speech, Barack Obama, March 18, 2008 145. Barack Obama’s Election Day Speech, November 4, 2008 Selected Bibliography Index

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VOLUME 2 43. Common Sense in Common Schooling: a sermon by Alex. Crummell, Rector of St. Luke’s Church, Washington, D.C., September 13, 1886 As pastor of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in Washington, D.C., from 1879 to 1898, Alex Crummell gives a critique of the trends in African American educational facilities during this time. His belief is that the educators need to educate their students in practical trades and industrial arts. He also criticizes U.S. trade unions for their exclusion of blacks. That the soul should be without knowledge is not good.—Prov. 9:12 To-morrow morning we shall witness the reopening of the public schools and the beginning of another year’s school session. As the training and instruction of our children is a matter of very great interest and importance, I am glad of the opportunity to say a few words upon the whole subject of Common-School education. I need not pause to explain the special signiﬁcance of the text. It is so plain and apparent that even the youngest can readily take it in, and you, who are their elders, have years ago become familiar with its point and power. It has had during the last few years a special and peculiar inﬂuence upon us as a people. Rarely in the history of man has any people, ‘‘sitting in the region and shadow of death’’—a people almost literally enveloped in darkness—rarely, I say, has any such people risen up from their Egyptian darkness with such a craving for light as the black race in this country. It has been almost the repetition of the Homeric incident:— Dispel this gloom—the light of heaven restore— Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more. Almost universal ignorance was the mental condition of the race of the previous to emancipation. Out of millions of people, not more than 30,000 were allowed an acquaintance with letters. To-day, hundreds of schools are in existence, and over a million of our children are receiving the elements of common-school education. The point of interest in this grand fact is that this intellectual receptivity was no tardy and reluctant faculty. Albeit an ignorant people, yet we did not need either to be goaded or even stimulated to intellectual desire. There was no need of any compulsory laws to force our children into the schools. No; the mental appetite of the Negro was like the resurrection of nature in the spring-time of the far northern

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regions. To-day, universal congelation and death prevail. To-morrow, the icy bands of winter are broken and there is a sudden upheaval of dead, stolid rivers. The living waters rush from their silent beds and sweep away formidable barriers, and spread abroad over wide and extensive plains. This craving of the appetite for letters and knowledge knows no abatement. Everywhere throughout the nation there still abides this singular and burning aptitude of the black race for schools and learning. I am proud of this vast and ardent desire of the race; for the brain of man is the very ﬁrst instrument of human achievement. Given, a cultivated and elastic brain, and you have the possibility of a man, and, with other qualiﬁcations and conditions, the probability of almost a demi-god. Take away the trained and cultivated intellect, and you get the likelihood of an animal, and, possibly, of a reptile. But while I rejoice in the wide spread of lettered acquaintance among us, I cannot close my eyes to a great evil which has been similtaneous with the increase of our knowledge. This evil is becoming so alarming that I feel it a duty to call the attention of both parents and children to it. The evil itself I call Disproportion! It is that which we mean when we have an excess of somewhat that is pleasing, with a loss of what is convenient and substantial. We are all apt then to say that it is ‘‘too much of a good thing.’’ The like one-sidedness discovers itself among us in our common-school education. Too many of our parents are ruining their children by this error. They crave an excess of one kind of education, and at the same time neglect important elements of another and quite as important a kind. This sad fact suggests as a theme for consideration to-day ‘‘Common Sense in Common Schooling.’’ The subject presents itself in the two topics, i.e., the excess and the defect in the training of our youth. (1.) Education as a system in our day divides itself into two sections, which are called, respectively, the higher and the lower. The former pertains to classical learning, i.e., Latin and Greek, Science, and Art, in which latter are included music, drawing, and painting. It is with regard to the higher education that I feel called upon to express my fears and to give my counsel. I fear we are overdoing this matter of higher learning. Everywhere I go throughout the country I discover two or three very disagreeable and unhealthy facts. I see, ﬁrst of all, (a) the vain ambition of very many mothers to over-educate their daughters, and to give them training and culture unﬁtted for their position in society and unadapted to their prospects in life. I see, likewise, too many men, forgetful of the occupations they held in society, anxious to shoot their sons suddenly, regardless of ﬁtness, into literary characters and into professional life. This is the ﬁrst evil. (b) Next to this I have observed an ambition among the youth of both sexes for aesthetical culture; an inordinate desire for the ornamental and elegant in educational to the neglect of the solid and practical. And (c), thirdly, to a very large extent school children are educated in letters to a neglect of household industry. Scores of both boys and girls go to school. That is their life business and nothing else; but their parents neglect their training in housework, and so they live in the streets, and during the ﬁrst twelve or fourteen years of their life are given to play and pleasure. And (d), lastly, our boys and girls almost universally grow up without trades, looking forward, if they do look forward, many of them, to being servants and waiters; and many more I am afraid, expecting to get a living by chance and hap-hazard.

43. Common Sense in Common Schooling

Doubtless some of you will say that the colored people are not the only people at fault in these respects; that the American people, in general, are running wild about the higher culture—are neglecting trades and mechanism, and are leaving the more practical and laborious duties of life to foreigners. Grant that this is the case; but it only serves to strengthen the allegation I make that we, in common with American people, are running into an excessive ambition for the higher culture to the neglect of industrial arts and duties. I go into families. I ask parents what they are preparing their children for, and the answer I frequently receive is: ‘‘Oh, I am going to send my son to college to make him a lawyer, or the daughter is to go to the East or to Europe to be made an accomplished lady.’’ Not long ago I met an old acquaintance, and, while talking about the future of her children, I inquired: ‘‘What are you going to do with—I will call him ‘tom?’’ Tom is a little fellow about fourteen years old; by no means a genius; more anxious about tops and taffy and cigarettes than about his books; never likely, so far as I can see, to set the Potomac on ﬁre. Her answer was that his father purposed sending him to college to make him a lawyer. On another occasion I was talking to a minister of the Gospel about his daughters, and he was anxious to send his two girls to Belgium to be educated for society! Not long ago an acquaintance of mine told me that his sons should never do the work he was doing. He was going to educate one to be a doctor, another to be a lawyer, and the third he hoped to make a minister. I must give him the credit that when I pointed out the danger of ruining his sons by this over-education, and that this sudden rise from a humble condition might turn them into lazy and proﬂigate spendthrifts, he listened to me, and I am glad to say he took my advice. He is now giving them his own trade, and I think they are likely to become quiet and industrious young men. Let me not be misunderstood. I am not only not opposed to the higher culture, but I am exceedingly anxious for it. We must have a class of trained and superior men and women. We must have cultured, reﬁned society. To live on a dead level of inferiority, or to be satisﬁed with the plane of uniform mediocrity, would be death to us as a people. Moreover we need, and in our blood, the great molders and fashioners of thought among us. To delegate the thinking of the race to any other people would be to introduce intellectual stagnation in the race; and when thought declines then a people are sure to fall and fade away. These, then, are the most sufﬁcient reasons for a large introduction among us of the highest training and culture. But this is no reason or excuse for disproportion or extravagance. Culture is a great need; but the greater, wider need of the race is industry and practicality. We need especially multitudinous artizans, and productive toil, and the grand realizations of labor, or otherwise we can never get respect or power in the land. And this leads me next to the other topic, viz, the employments and occupations of industrial life. Here we encounter one of the most formidable difﬁculties of our civil life in this country. The state of things in this regard is an outrage upon humanity! And I protest, with all my might, against the mandate of the ‘‘Trades’ Unions,’’ which declare ‘‘You black people must be content with servant life!’’ I say that this race of ours should demand the right to enter every avenue of enterprise and activity white men enter. They should cry out, too, against our exclusion from any of the trades and businesses of life. But with all this remember that no people

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can all, or even many of them, become lawyers, doctors, ministers, teachers, scholars! No people can get their living and build themselves up by reﬁned style and glittering fashion or indulgence in belle-lettres. No people can live off of ﬂowers, nor gain strength and robustness by devotion to art. And it is just this false and artiﬁcial tendency which is ruining colored society almost everywhere in the United States. It is especially so in the large cities. The youth want to go to school until they are nineteen or twenty years of age. Meanwhile, the book-idea so predominates that duty and industry are thrown into the shade. Mothers and fathers work hard to sustain their children. After awhile the children look with contempt upon their unlettered, hard-handed parents, and regard them as only born for use and slavish toil. Is this an exaggeration? Have you not seen some of those ﬁne young ladies, whose mothers sweat and toil for them in the wash-tub or cook in the kitchen, boasting that they can’t hem a pocket handkerchief or cook a potato? Have not you seen some of these grand gentlemen who forget the humble parents who begot them, forget the humble employments of those parents, turn up their noses at the ordinary occupations of the poor race they belong to, and then begin the fantastic airs of millionaires, while they don’t own ground enough to bury themselves in? You say, perchance, ‘‘Such girls and boys are ‘sillies,’ ’’ and that their brainless folly is no reason why the higher education should not be given in all the schools. It is just here I beg to differ with you. I maintain that parents should exercise discrimination in this matter. They have no right to waste time and expense upon incapable girls and boys. They have no right to raise up a whole regiment of pretentious and lazy fools to plague society and to ruin themselves. They have no right to send out into the world a lot of young men and women with heads crammed with Latin, Greek, and literature; with no heart to labor; with hands of baby softness; interested only in idleness, and given to proﬂigacy and ruinous pleasure. And just this, in numerous cases, is the result of this ambitious system of education in this land. We are turning out annually from the public schools a host of ﬁne scholars, but not a few of them lazy, inﬂated, senseless, sensual! Whole shoals of girls hating labor, slattern in habits and at the same time bespangled with frippery, devoted to dress, and the easy prey of proﬂigate men! And lots of young men utterly indifferent to the fortunes of their families and the interests of their girls, but scores of them throughly unprincipled and proﬂigate! They live for to-day, but the life they live is for sensual delight, and the culture they have gained is spent in skillful devices to administer to the lusts of the ﬂesh. This I am constrained to say is the result of the higher education in well nigh half of the colored youth who graduate from high schools and colleges, and it is ruinous to our people. You ask me the remedy for this great evil. MY answer is by avoidance of the excess which I have pointed out and the adoption of the ordinary common-school education. Shun disproportion. Hold on to the higher education, but use it only in ﬁt and exceptional cases. If you have a son or a daughter burning with the desire for learning, give that child every possible opportunity. But you see the condition I present, viz, that it burns with intellectual desire. But how often is this the case? The difﬁculty in the matter is that parents themselves are to blame for the miscarriage of their children’s

43. Common Sense in Common Schooling

education. Everybody now a days is crazy about education. Fathers and mothers are anxious that their children should shine. However ordinary a boy or girl may be the parents want them to be scholars. The boy may be a numbskull, the girl a noodle. The fond parent thinks the child a prodigy; stimulates its ambition, gives it indulgence, saves it from labor, keeps it at school almost to its majority and then, at last, it ﬁnds out that the child has no special talent, dislikes labor, is eager for pleasure, dress, and display, is selﬁsh and cruel to its parents, unable to earn its own living, and expects father and mother to drudge for its support and vanity. I am sure that you all know numerous cases of such failure and ruin. And it all comes from a neglect of a few plain common-sense rules which belong naturally to the subject of education. Let me brieﬂy set before you some of these rules: First of all, secure for your children an acquaintance with reading writing, arithmetic, and geography. When well grounded in these studies, which is ordinarily at 12 or 13, then ascertain whether your children are ﬁtted for the higher branches. If you yourself are educated, form your own judgement; if not, get the advice of a wellqualiﬁed friend, or the opinion of your minister, or take counsel of the child’s schoolmaster. If convinced that the child gives promise of superiority, keep it at school, give it the best opportunities, and labor hard to make your child a thorough scholar. (2) On the other hand, if you ﬁnd your child has but ordinary capacity, take it from school and put it at an early day to work. If you don’t you will not only waste time but you are likely to raise up a miserable dolt or a lazy dandy. Such a child, brought up to fruitless inactivity, dawdling for years over unappreciated culture, will, likely as not never want to work for his living, may turn out a gambler or a thief, and in the end may disgrace your name or break your heart. Don’t keep your children too long at school; don’t think too much about the book and so little about labor. Remember that the end of all true education is to learn to do duty in life and to secure an honorable support and sustenance. And here (3) let me press upon you the importance of training your children in industrial habits at home during the period of their school life. Going to school should never prevent a girl from learning to sew, to cook, to sweep, bed-making, and scrubbing the ﬂoor; nor a boy from using a hammer, cleaning the yard, bringing in coal, doing errands, working hard to help his mother, or to assist his father. Home work, moreover, is the natural antidote to the mental strain, and oftentimes the physical decline which, in these days, comes from the excess of study, which is the abnormal feature of the present school system. From labor health, from health contentment ﬂows. If you begin your child’s school life by the separation of books and learning from manual labor, then you begin his education with poison as the very ﬁrst portion of his intelligent life! He had better a deal be ignorant and industrious than lettered and slothful, and, perchance, a beggar! Laziness and learning are as incongruous as a ‘‘jewel in a swine’s snout,’’ and few things are so demoralizing to the young. Witness the large numbers of lettered youth and young men, fresh from schools, academies, and colleges, who ﬁll the jails and prisons of the country, and then think of the large and more skillful numbers outside who ought, in justice, to be companying with those within. Nothing is more contemptible than the crowds of these danda-

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dandaical ‘‘clothes-bags,’’ for they deserve no better title, one sees in our large cities, who have, indeed, the varnish of the schools and literature, but who lack common sense, full of vanity and pretense, poisoned with lust and whisky, and, while too proud and too lazy to work, get their living by vice and gambling. This abuse of learning, however, is not conﬁned to men. Alas! that it must be acknowledged, we have all over the land scores of cultured young woman in whose eyes labor is a disgrace and degradation, who live lives of lazy cunning or deception, and plunge determinedly into lust and harlotry. And the poor old fathers and mothers who toiled so painfully for their schooling, and hoped such great things for their daughters, have been cast down to misery and despair, or else have died broken-hearted over their daughters shame and ruin. And in every such case how sad the reﬂection: ‘‘O, that I had been wise with my child! O, that I had scouted her false notions about style and elegance! O, that I had been more anxious to make her industrious and virtuous! Then all this anguish and distress would never have fallen upon me!’’ Such cases of folly have their lessons for all of us who are parents. May Almighty God make us both wise in our generation, and prudent and discreet with our children. The words I have spoken this day have sprung from two or three deep convictions which I am sure are thoroughly scriptural and true, and which, I think, may rightly close this discourse: 1. The ﬁrst of these is that children are neither toys nor playthings, such as are embroidery and jewels and trinkets. They are moral spiritual beings, endowed with conscience and crowned with the principle of immoratality. You may toy and play with your trinkets, but you are accountable to God for the soul, the life, the character, and the conduct of your child. Hence duty and responsibility are the two paramount considerations which are to be allied with the entire training of your children, whether at home or in their school life. 2. Children are trusts for the good and health of society and the commonwealth. The law don’t allow you to poison the air with ﬁlth and garbage, and for the simple reason that as a householder you are a trustee for your fellow-creatures. But in regards of your children you are, in a far higher sense, a trustee for your fellow-creatures around you. What right have you to send forth from your threshold a senseless fool, full of learning it may be, but with no sense, no idea of responsibility for anybody, impudent to old people, a rowdy in God’s Church, a rioter, a gambler, a rake? Ought not the culture you have toiled to give him serve to make him modest, a mild-mannered man, a stay to his humble toilsome parents, a useful man in society, a thrifty and productive citizen in the community? And was it not your duty, all his life long, to strive to realize such a large and high-souled being as the fruit of your family life and training? Or, if perchance it is a girl, what right have you to send forth into the world a lazy, impertinent creature, bedecked and bejeweled indeed; full perchance, of letters and accomplishments, but with no womanly shame; brazen with boldness; lazy as a sloth, and, yet, proud, pretentious, crazy for ruinous delights; swept away by animal desires; alien from domestic duties, and devoted to pleasure? Go to, now. Is this the fruit of your vineyard? When God and man, too, look that it should bring forth grapes, will you only thrust upon us such wild grapes?

44. The Wonderful Eventful Life of Rev. Thomas James, by himself, 1887 239

You have no such right! You are a trustee for society, and you should take a pride in rearing up ornaments for society—‘‘Sons,’’ as the psalmist describes them, ‘‘who may grow up as the young plants;’’ ‘‘daughters, as the polished corners of the temple.’’ Just such, I am proud to say, as I see in many of your own families is this church, whose children are intelligent, scholarly, and, at the same time, virtuous, modest, obedient, and industrious. God’s holy name be praised for such children, such parents, such godly families! May God, for Jesus’ sake, multiply them a hundred fold in all our communities! 3. Join to this, thirdly, the most solemn of all considerations, i.e., that your children are the servants of the most high God. All souls are says the Almighty. God made them and sent them into the world. He it is who places living souls in the family, in human society, in the nation, in the church, for His own honor and glory. Not for mere pastime, for triﬂing, or for pleasure are human beings put amid the relations of life. We are all God’s property—our children and ourselves—for God’s service and His praise. Beloved, accept this grand prerogative of your human existence; train your children for godly uses in this world; train their minds by proper schooling; their bodies by industry; their immortal souls by teaching, catechising, and family devotion, so that they may glorify God in their bodies and their spirits; and then God will give you family order and success in this world; your children honor and blessing by the Holy Ghost, and everlasting light shall be the inheritance of your seed, and your seeds’ seed from generation to generation on earth, and glory, honor, and peace, at the last, in the Kingdom of Heaven above! Source: Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A. P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

44. The Wonderful Eventful Life of Rev. Thomas James, by himself, 1887 This is an excerpt from an autobiography by Rev. Thomas James, a minister in the African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church, who writes about his life from slavery to the ministry to the anti-slavery movement in New York and Massachusetts. The narrative is an account of how he ran a camp for free and refugee African Americans in Kentucky during the Civil War. The story of my life is a simple one, perhaps hardly worth the telling. I have written it in answer to many and oft repeated requests on the part of my friends for a relation of its incidents, and to them I dedicate this little volume. The Author Rochester, [N.Y.] Feb. 15, 1886. I was born a slave at Canajoharie, this state, in the year 1804. I was the third of four children, and we were all the property of Asa Kimball, who, when I was in the eighth year of my age, sold my mother, brother and elder sister to purchasers from Smith-town, a village not far distant from Amsterdam in the same part of the state. My mother refused to go, and ran into the garret to seek a hiding place. She was pursued, caught, tied hand and foot and delivered to her new owner. I caught my last sight of my mother

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as they rode off with her. My elder brother and sister were taken away at the same time. I never saw either my mother or sister again. Long years afterwards my brother and I were reunited, and he died in this city a little over a year ago. From him I learned that my mother died about the year 1846, in the place to which she had been taken. My brother also informed me that he and his sister were separated soon after their transfer to a Smithport master, and he never heard of her subsequent fate. Of my father I never had any personal knowledge, and, indeed, never heard anything. My youngest sister, the other member of the family, died when I was yet a youth. While I was still in the seventeenth year of my age, Master Kimball was killed in a runaway accident; and at the administrator’s sale I was sold with the rest of the property, my new master being Cromwell Bartlett, of the same neighborhood. As I remember, my ﬁrst master was a well-to-do but rough farmer, a skeptic in religious matters, but of better heart than address; for he treated me well. He owned several farms, and my work was that of a farm hand. My new master had owned me but a few months when he sold me, or rather traded me, to George H. Hess, a wealthy farmer of the vicinity of Fort Plain. I was bartered in exchange for a yoke of steers, a colt and some additional property, the nature and amount of which I have now forgotten. I remained with Master Hess from March until June of the same year, when I ran away. My master had worked me hard, and at last undertook to whip me. This led me to seek escape farm slavery. I arose in the night, and taking the newly staked line of the Erie canal for my route, traveled along it westward until, about a week later, I reached the village of Lockport. No one had stopped me in my ﬂight. Men were at work digging the new canal at many points, but they never troubled themselves even to question me. I slept in barns at night and begged food at farmers’ houses along my route. At Lockport a colored man showed me the way to the Canadian border. I crossed the Niagara at Youngstown on the ferry-boat, and was free! Once on free soil, I began to look about for work, and found it at a point called Deep Cut on the Welland Canal, which they were then digging. I found the laborers a rough lot, and soon had a mind to leave them. After three months had passed, I supposed it safe to return to the American side, and acting on the idea I recrossed the river. A farmer named Rich, residing near Youngstown, engaged me as a wood chopper. In the spring I made my way to Rochesterville and found a home with Lawyer Talbert. The chores about his place were left to me, and I performed the same service for Orlando Hastings. I was then nineteen years of age. As a slave I had never been inside of a school or a church, and I knew nothing of letters or religion. The wish to learn awoke in me almost from the moment I set foot in the place, and I soon obtained an excellent chance to carry the wish into effect. After the opening of the Erie canal, I obtained work in the warehouse of the Hudson and Erie line, and found a home with its manager, Mr. Pliny Allen Wheeler. I was taught to read by Mr. Freeman, who had opened a Sunday-school of his own for colored youths, on West Main street, or Buffalo street, as it was then called. But my self-education advanced fastest in the warehouse during the long winter and spring months, when the canal was closed and my only work consisted of chores about the place and at my employer’s residence. The clerks helped me whenever I needed help in my studies. Soon I had learning enough to be placed in charge of the freight business of the warehouse, with full direction over the lading of boats. I became a member of the African Methodist Episcopal Society in 1823, when the church was on Ely street, and my studies took the direction of preparation for the ministry. In 1828

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I taught a school for colored children on Favor street, and I began holding meetings at the same time. In the following year I ﬁrst formally commenced preaching, and in 1830 I bought as a site for a religious ediﬁce the lot now occupied by Zion’s church. In the meantime the Ely street society had ceased to exist, its death having been hastened by internal quarrels and by dishonesty among its trustees. On the lot already mentioned I built a small church ediﬁce, which was afterwards displaced by a larger one, the latter ﬁnally giving way to the present structure on the same site. I was ordained as a minister in May, 1833, by Bishop Rush. I had been called Tom as a Slave, and they called me Jim at the warehouse. I put both together when I reached manhood, and was ordained as Rev. Thomas James. Two years before the last mentioned event in my life, Judge Sampson, vice-president of the local branch of the African Colonization Society of that day, turned over to me a batch of anti-slavery literature sent him by Arthur Tappan. It was these documents that turned my thoughts into a channel which they never quitted until the colored man became the equal of the white in the eye of the law, if not in the sight of his neighbor of another race. In the early summer of 1833 we held the ﬁrst of a series of anti-slavery meetings in the court house. The leading promoters of that meeting were William Bloss, Dr. Reid—whose widow, now in the 86th year of her age, still lives in Rochester—and Dr. W. Smith. There was a great crowd in attendance on the ﬁrst night, but its leading motive was curiosity, and it listened without interfering with the proceedings. The second night we were plied with questions, and on the third they drowned with their noise the voices of the speakers and ﬁnally turned out the lights. Not to be baulked of his purpose, Mr. Bloss, who was not a man to be cowed by opposition, engaged the session room of the Third Presbyterian church; but even there we were forced to lock the doors before we could hold our abolition meeting in peace. There we organized our anti-slavery society, and when the journals of the day refused to publish our constitution and by laws, we bought a press for a paper of our own and appointed the three leaders already named to conduct it. It was printed fort-nightly and was called The Rights of Man. I was sent out to make a tour of the country in its interest, obtaining subscriptions for the paper and lecturing against slavery. At LeRoy I was mobbed, my meeting was broken up, and I was saved from worse treatment only by the active efforts of Mr. Henry Brewster, who secreted me in his own house. At the village I next visited, Warsaw, I was aided by Seth M. Gates and others, and I was also well received at Perry. At Pike, however, I was arrested and subjected to a mock trial, with the object of scaring me into ﬂight from the place. At Palmyra I found no hall or church in which I could speak. Indeed the place was then a mere hamlet and could boast of but half a dozen dwellings. My tour embraced nearly every village in this and adjourning counties, and the treatment given me varied with the kind of people I happened to ﬁnd in the budding settlements of the time. In the same fall I attended the ﬁrst AntiSlavery State Convention at Utica. In 1835 I left Rochester to form a colored church at Syracuse. Of course I joined anti-slavery work to the labor which fell upon me as a pastor. In the city last named the opponents of the movement laid a trap for me, by proposing a public discussion of the leading questions at issue. I was a little afraid of my ability to cope with them alone, and therefore, quietly wrote to Gerrett Smith, Beriah Green and Alvin Stewart for help. When the public discussion took place, and these practiced speakers met and answered the arguments of our opponents, the representatives of the

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latter—the leading editor and the foremost lawyer of the place—left the church in disgust, pleading that they had a good case, but did not expect to face men so well able to handle any question as the friends of mine I had invited. After their retreat from the hall, the two champions of slavery stirred up the salt boilers to mob us, but we adjourned before night, and when the crowd arrived at the ediﬁce they found only prayer meeting of the church people in progress, and slunk away ashamed. I was stationed nearly three years at Syracuse, and was then transferred to Ithaca, where a little colored religious society already existed. I bought a site for a church ediﬁce for them, and saw it built during the two years of my stay in the village. Thence I was sent to Sag Harbor, Long Island, and, ﬁnally to New Bedford, Massachusetts. It was at New Bedford that I ﬁrst saw Fred. Douglass. He was then, so to speak, right out of slavery, but had already begun to talk in public, though not before white people. He had been given authority to act as an exhorter by the church before my coming, and I some time afterwards licensed him to preach. He was then a member of my church. On one occasion, after I had addressed a white audience on the slavery question, I called upon Fred. Douglass, whom I saw among the auditors, to relate his story. He did so and in a year from that time he was in the lecture ﬁeld with Parker Pillsbury and other leading abolitionist orators. Not long afterwards a letter was received from him by his fellow church members, in which he said that he had cut loose from the church; he had found that the American Church was the bulwark of American slavery. We did not take the letter to mean that Mr. Douglas had repudiated the Christian religion at the same time that he bade good-by to the churches. It was soon after this that great excitement arose in New Bedford over the action of Rev. Mr. Jackson, a Baptist minister, who had just returned from a Baltimore clerical convention, which sent a petition to the Maryland Legislature in favor of the passage of a law compelling free Negroes to leave the state, under the plea that the free colored men mingling with the slaves incited the latter to insurrection. Rev. Mr. Jackson was a vice-president of that convention and a party to its action. Printed accounts of the proceedings were sent to me, and at a meeting called to express dissent from the course taken by the minister named and his brethren, I introduced a resolution, of which the following is a copy: ‘‘Resolved, That the great body of the American clergy, with all their pretensions to sanctity, stand convicted by their deadly hostility to the Anti-Slavery movement, and their support of the slave system, as a brotherhood of thieves, and should branded as such by all honest Christians.’’ The tone and tenor of this resolution now carry an air of extravagant injustice, but there was at that time only too much truth in the charge it contains. The resolution was tabled, but it was at the same time decided to publish it, and to invite the ministers of the town to appear at an adjourned meeting and defend their course, if they could. Nearly thirty ministers of New Bedford and vicinity appeared at the next meeting, and with one voice denounced the obnoxious resolution and its author. The result was that a strong prejudice was excited against me, a prejudice that was increased by an event which took place soon afterwards—the whole due to the fact that the respectable and wealthy classes, as well as the lower orders, at the time regarded abolitionists with equal aversion and contempt. The conscience of the North had not yet been fairly awakened to the monstrous wrong of human bondage.

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On my journey homeward from a visit to New York City, I met Mr. Henry Ludlam, his wife, two children and a slave girl, from Richmond, Va., all bound for New Bedford to spend the summer with Captain Bunbar, father-in-law of the head of this party of visitors. I said that I met them, but the meeting consisted only in this, that they and I were on board the same train, but not in the same car. I was in the ‘‘Jim Crow’’ car, as colored persons were not permitted to enter the others with white people, and the slave girl was sent to the same car by the same rule. I talked with her, and, as I was in duty bound to do, asked her to come to my church during the stay of the family in New Bedford. After some weeks had passed and she did not come, I took with me a colored teacher and another friend to call on her and learn, if we could, why she did not attend the services. Her master or owner met us at the door and gave us this answer: ‘‘Lucy is my slave, and slaves don’t receive calls.’’ In short, he refused to let us enter the house, whereat we took advice from friends, and applied to Judge Crapo for a writ of habeas corpus. The judge sent us about our business with the advice not to annoy Mr. Ludlam, who was entitled to hospitable treatment as a visitor and guest. Instead of taking this advice, we journeyed to Boston, and were given by Judge Wilds the writ his judicial brother in New Bedford had denied us. We had Sheriff Pratt and the writ with us when we made our next call on the slave girl’s master. The latter at ﬁrst refused even the sheriff leave to see the girl, and ﬁnally proposed to give bail for her appearance before the judge. The sheriff turned to me inquiringly when this proposal was made, and I answered: ‘‘Mr. Sheriff, you were directed to take the person of the girl Lucy, and I call upon you to do your duty.’’ Thus we got possession of the girl, but not before her owner had obtained leave for a few minutes’ private conversation with her. In this talk, as we afterwards learned, he frightened Lucy by telling her that our purpose was an evil one, and obtained her promise to display a handkerchief from the room in which she would be conﬁned as a signal for the rescue he promised her. We took the girl to a chamber on the upper ﬂoor of the residence of the Rev. Joel Knight, and the evening we prepared to lie down before the door. Lucy displayed the handkerchief as she had promised, and, when we questioned her about it, answered: ‘‘Master told me to do it; he is coming to take me home.’’ At this we quietly called together twenty men from the colored district of the place, and they took seats in the church close at hand, ready for any emergency. At one o’ clock in the morning Ludlam appeared on the scene, with a backing of a dozen men, carrying a ladder, to effect a rescue. The sheriff hailed them, but they gave no answer, whereat our party of colored men sallied forth, and the rescuers ﬂed in all directions. The entire town was now agog over the affair. So many took sides against us, and such threats were made, that the sheriff was forced to call to his aid the local police, and, thus escorted, the girl was placed aboard the cars for Boston. The other party, to the number of 150 men, chartered a train by another route, with the design of overpowering the sheriff’s posse in the streets of Boston; but so large a force of ofﬁcers was called out by the sheriff that the slaveholder’s friends gave up the idea of carrying out their design. Lucy was brought before Judge Wilds, who postponed the hearing until the following Saturday, and meanwhile invited us privately to bring the girl to his home in the course of the day, as he wanted to talk with her. This we did, and the judge told Lucy what her rights were; that by the laws of Massachusetts she was free—her case was not covered by the fugitive slave law—and that if she wanted her freedom she should have it. If, however, she chose to return to her master she could do so; ‘‘but,’’ added

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the judge, ‘‘after what has happened, he will probably sell you on your return with the family to a slave state.’’ She asked for her freedom, and received it the next day, when the case was heard in open court. The Sunday night following word was received at the colored church where we were holding services that our enemies were trying to kidnap the girl. That broke up the meeting; the colored people rallied, and the attempt failed. Lucy’s master was forced to return to his slave home without his human chattel. The girl afterwards married, had children, and, I believed, live happily among the people of her own color at the North. One of the earliest cases in which I became interested as a laborer in the antislavery cause was that of the Emstead captives. The slaver Emstead was a Spanish vessel which left the African coast in 1836 with a cargo of captive blacks. When four days out the captives rose, and, coming on deck, threw overboard all but two of the ofﬁcers and crew. The two they saved to navigate the vessel; but instead of taking the vessel back to the coast they had just left, as they were directed by the blacks, the two sailors attempted to make the American main, and the vessel ﬁnally drifted ashore near Point Judith, on Long Island Sound. The Spanish Minister demanded the surrender of the blacks to his government. They were taken off the ship and sent to Connecticut for trial. Arthur Tappan and Richard Johnson interested themselves in the captives, and succeeded in postponing their trial for two and a half years. Two young men were meanwhile engaged to instruct the captives, and when their trial at last came they were able to give evidence which set them free. They testiﬁed that they had been enticed on board of the slaver in small parties for the ostensible purpose of trade, and had then been thrown into the hold and chained. There were nearly one hundred of the captives, and on their release we tried hard, but vainly, to persuade them to stay in this country. I escorted them on shipboard when they were about to sail from New York for their native land. After a stay of two years at New Bedford I took charge of a colored church in Boston, and left that to give nearly all my time of lectures and addresses on the anti-slavery issue. It was during this period that I took an active interest in the case of Anthony Burns, a runaway slave, who reached Boston as a stowaway in 1852. His former master learned that Burns had found a home in Boston, and made two futile attempts, with the aid of government ofﬁcials, to recapture him. They made a third trial of it with such precautions as they thought would surely command success. A posse of twenty ﬁve United States Deputy Marshals was collected in Richmond, Washington, Philadelphia and New York, and secretly sent to Boston. They lined the street in the vicinity of the shop in which Burns was employed. Several of them followed him when he emerged from the door, and at the corner of Hanover and Cambridge streets they surrounded, captured and ironed him, telling the crowd which was fast collecting that he was accused of breaking into a jewelry store. The marshals succeeded in getting their prisoner into the court-house before the true state of the case became known to the crowd. A call was at once issued for a meeting of our Anti-Slavery Vigilance Committee, and word was sent to Theodore Parker, Wendell Phillips, and other noted leaders, to attend and give advice as to the wisest course to take under the circumstances. It was at ﬁrst proposed to buy or ransom Burns, and representatives of the committee accordingly offered $1,300 for him. But the marshals would not take it. They said they would let Boston people see the law—the fugitive slave law—could be executed in spite of their opposition. Two

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companies of marines from the navy yard were called out to support the marshals. But the people gathered from all quarters; they came in swarms from points as far as Lowell, and it was determined at all hazards to prevent the return of the fugitive to slavery. A beam sixty feet long was procured, and at nine o’clock that night was used as a battering-ram against the court house doors. An incident which happened just before this attempt to force an entrance into the court-house added fuel to the ﬁerce ﬁre of excitement. One of the court attendants who found himself outside the building tried to re-enter it, but received a deadly slash from a sword in the hands of a guard, who mistook the character of the man. The victim of this ghastly mistake ran but a few rods before he fell, bleeding and lifeless. The doors gave way at the ﬁrst thrust of the beam, and we entered to ﬁnd ourselves in the midst of the two armed companies already mentioned. We gave the soldiers warning that they would get but one ﬁre before all would be over with them, and at this threat they gave up trying actively to interfere with us. But although it had proved easy to break into the court house, it was not so easy to get at the prisoner. The marshals had him with them in an underground cell. The passage to it was narrow, the doors were strong, and we could for the moment do nothing. We ﬁnally hit upon a plan to bring the marshals to reason by threatening to starve them out. When they found that not even a glass of water could be sent in to them they began to talk of terms, offering to take the $1,300 we had in the ﬁrst instance proposed to give them for their prisoner. We declined the proposition, but now offered them $300 for their trouble. This they consented to take, with the provision that they should be allowed to convey the prisoner unmolested to Richmond, Va., and then return him quietly to Boston, in order that they might be able to say they had succeeded in taking their man out of the state. We made them give a bond in the sum of $10,000 that they would abide by the agreement, and use Burns well while they had him in their hands. It was all done, as people say, according to contract. Benjamin F. Butler said to me at the time—he was then the Democratic collector of the port—‘‘James,’’ these were his characteristic words, ‘‘I had rather see the court house, niggers and all, blown up to the seventh heaven than see a slave taken out of the city of Boston.’’ When Burns was taken to the wharf guarded by a large force of marshals and from ﬁfteen to twenty companies of militia, every store along the streets traversed was hung with crape. At one point a black cofﬁn suspended from a wire level with the third story windows was drawn back and forth. Boston was in mourning over the disgrace of even in appearance surrendering as a slave a human being who had once set foot on its soil. Another case in which I was equally interested was that of the fugitive slaves, William and Ellen Craft. The latter, who had hardly a tinge of African blood in her veins, and who could not in color be distinguished from a white person, was housekeeper for a rich southern planter, and the former, who was quite black, was her husband. In August, 1851, the master and his family departed for a watering place, leaving Ellen in charge of the mansion during their absence, and putting money enough in her hands for the temporary needs of the household. Soon after the departure of the family, Ellen put on men’s clothing, and with husband set out on foot at night for the North and freedom! In the morning they stopped at a public house, Ellen representing herself as a planter’s son, with a servant—her husband—to attend her. She carried her arm in a sling, and told the clerk she could not use it when he asked her to register their names. In this manner they made their way north, and

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ﬁnally to Boston. Their master at last obtained trace of them, and one day arrived at Boston to recover his human property. He called upon the judge of the proper court for the necessary order, but the judge, pleading pressure of business, directed the applicant to call again later in the day. In the interval the judge notiﬁed the abolitionists, and they held a meeting the same evening to decide what to do in the case. They came to the conclusion that as the writ or process issued in conformity with the fugitive slave law was civil, and not criminal, there would be no means of serving it upon the fugitives if the latter kept within the domicile and locked the doors. The Crafts acted upon this advice, and were secretly supplied with food by their abolitionist friends during their conﬁnement within doors. The master was thus prevented from recovering possession of them, but he remained in the city and lingered about the neighborhood in which the fugitives were self-conﬁned until the Boston boys annoyed and pestered him to such a degree that he was forced to ask police protection. He obtained it only on a promise to leave the city, but broke his word and was again persecuted by the boys so persistently that he was forced to leave Boston. The fugitives were not again molested, for they quietly removed to Montreal as soon as their prosecutor was fairly out of the way. Still another case in which I was concerned was that of a runaway slave girl who was seized in Boston and taken to the court house, where a hearing was obtained for her by the opponents of the fugitive slave law. Our counsel had little hope of gaining anything but time by the proceeding, and arranged a signal by which we who were gathered outside the court room—for the proceedings took place with closed doors—might understand that the case had gone against us. When the decision was given the lawyer started for the door in feigned disgust, and it was partially opened for his exit he gave the signal by raising his hand. Instantly a huge colored man named Clark thrust an iron bar between the door and its frame, so that it could not be closed, and we rushed in, to the terror of the court attendants. We took the girl from their hands, and, placing her in a closed carriage, drove her to Roxbury. Three other carriages were driven from the court house in other directions at the same moment, in order to bafﬂe any attempt at pursuit. The crowd of colored people collected in front of the court house on the occasion included a large number of women, each of them armed with a quarter of a pound of Cayenne pepper to throw into the eyes of the ofﬁcers should the latter come to blows with their friends. The girl was kept in her hiding place a fortnight, and then as the excitement had abated, safely sent to Canada. In relating the rescue of the slave girl Lucy, I mentioned the fact that we colored people were in those days obliged to ride in a second class or ‘‘Jim Crow’’ car, even in New England. The same separation was enforced on steamboats and stagecoaches, colored people being compelled to ride on the outside of the latter. It was hard to make headway against the rules of the railroad and steamship companies, because they would only sell us half-fare tickets, and on these we could not demand seats with white people I ﬁnally procured two ﬁrst class or full fare tickets by having a white man buy them for me. A colored friend and myself quietly took seats in the corner of the regular passenger coach. The brakemen did not see us until just before the time for the train to start. Then one of them, approaching us, said: ‘‘You have made a mistake.’’ ‘‘No,’’ was our answer, as we held up the tickets But the man persisted, ‘‘You can’t ride in here; you know that.’’ My answer was: ‘‘You advertise a fare of nine shillings from New Bedford to Boston, and I have this ticket as a receipt that

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I have paid the money.’’ He reiterated: ‘‘You can’t ride here, and I want you to go out.’’ ‘‘No,’’ was my answer, ‘‘I have bought and paid for this ticket and have the same right here as other people.’’ The ticket agent was called in, and tried to persuade us to leave the car. ‘‘Our rules,’’ he said, ‘‘forbid your occupation of seats in this car. We want no trouble, and you had better go out peaceably.’’ ‘‘We want none,’’ answered I, ‘‘and shall make none, but we propose to stay where we are.’’ They sent in trainmen, baggageman, and hackmen; we resisted passively, and three seats to which we clung as they were dragging us along were torn up before they got us out. I obtained a warrant from Judge Crapo, and had them arrested at once. The hearing took place the same day, and on the following morning the judge handed down a long written opinion. He ruled that custom was law, and by custom colored people were not allowed to ride in the company of white people. Furthermore railway corporations had the right to make their own regulations on such a subject, and consequently we had no cause of action, I paid the costs and gave notice of appeal to the Supreme Court. When the case was heard at Boston the court decided that the word ‘‘color,’’ as applied to persons, was unknown to the laws of the commonwealth of Massachusetts, and that the youngest colored child had the same rights as the richest white citizen. No company chartered as a common carrier had a right to enact regulations above the laws of the state. The decision of Judge Crapo was reversed, and I was given $300 damages besides. That broke up the practice of consigning colored railway passengers to ‘‘Jim Crow’’ cars. I had somewhat similar experience on the steamer plying between New Bedford and Nantucket. They would sell only blue or second-class tickets to colored persons, who were thus prevented from entering the cabin with white people. When I asked for a full fare ticket it was refused me, but they offered to sell me a blue one. This I would not take, and I went on board without a ticket. I visited the cabin and other parts of the boat forbidden to colored passengers, but no trouble occurred until the ticket gatherer made his rounds. I told the man that I had no ticket, but would pay the regular fare, not half fare. The captain began by taking the hat from my head and locking it up in his ofﬁce. Next, he told me that I could pay half fare or be put off the boat at her next landing place. He was in such haste to carry out his threat, that he retarded the steamer’s headway in sight of a port at which she was not to stop, had a boat lowered over the side and ordered me to enter it. I refused and he swore. ‘‘You have men enough to put me ashore if you choose,’’ said I, ‘‘but I want the right of redress.’’ At this he ordered the boat raised, and the steamer proceeded to her destination with me still on board. When we came within sight of Nantucket he sent a servant to me with my hat, but I refused to take it. I went ashore with a handkerchief tied about my head. It was well advertised before evening that I would at my lecture—I was already booked to speak there that night—tell the story of my treatment on the boat. When the bells were calling people to the lecture hall, the captain’s clerk came to me with the message that that ofﬁcer wanted to see me; but I sent back word that I would say all I had to say to him at the lecture. After the lecture three ladies presented me a new hat, in accepting which I remarked that Captain Nottﬁnney was welcome to wear my old one, left in his hands. I went back on the same boat without a ticket, for they still refused to sell me a full fare one; but no one asked for my ticket, and no one said a word to me, although I went where I pleased on the boat.

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While stationed at Boston I made the acquaintance of Rev. Mr. Phileo and his wife, the latter being that Prudence Crandall who was sent to a Connecticut jail for teaching a school for colored children at Canterbury Green. As I remember, a special session of the legislature was called by the governor for the express purpose of passing a law to cover such cases, and under the law thus enacted she was sent to jail. She was engaged at the time to the young preacher. He married her in jail, and when she was his wife, claimed and obtained her release. The social persecution to which she had been subjected before her imprisonment was renewed on her release, and she and her husband left the place, never to return to it. I returned to Rochester in 1856, and took charge of the colored church in this city. In 1862 I received an appointment from the American Missionary Society to labor among the colored people of Tennessee and Louisiana, but I never reached either of these states. I left Rochester with my daughter, and reported at St. Louis, where I received orders to proceed to Louisville, Kentucky. On the train, between St. Louis and Louisville, a party of forty Missouri rufﬁans entered the car at an intermediate station, and threatened to throw me and my daughter off the train. They robbed me of my watch. The conductor undertook to protect us, but, ﬁnding it out of his power, brought a number of Government ofﬁcers and passengers from the next car to our assistance. At Louisville the government took me out of the hands of the Missionary Society to take charge of freed and refugee blacks, to visit the prisons of that commonwealth, and to set free all colored persons found conﬁned without charge of crime. I served ﬁrst under the orders of General Burbage, and then under those of his successor, General Palmer. The homeless colored people, for whom I was to care, were gathered in a camp covering ten acres of ground on the outskirts of the city. They were housed in light buildings, and supplied with rations from the commissary stores. Nearly all the persons in the camp were women and children, for the colored men were sworn into the United States service as soldiers as fast as they came in. My ﬁrst duty, after arranging the affairs of the camp, was to visit the slave pens, of which there were ﬁve in the city. The largest, known as Garrison’s, was located on Market Street, and to that I made my ﬁrst visit. When I entered it, and was about to make a thorough inspection of it, Garrison stopped me with the insolent remark, ‘‘I guess no nigger will go over me in this pen.’’ I showed him my orders, whereupon he asked time to consult the mayor. He started for the entrance, but was stopped by the guard I had stationed there. I told him he would not leave the pen until I had gone through every part of it. ‘‘So,’’ said I, ‘‘throw open your doors, or I will put you under arrest.’’ I found hidden away in that pen 260 colored persons, part of them in irons. I took them all to my camp, and they were free. I next called at Otterman’s pen on Second Street, from which also I took a large number of slaves. A third large pen was named Clark’s, and there were two smaller ones besides. I liberated the slaves in all of them. One morning it was reported to me that a slave trader had nine colored men locked in a room in the National hotel. A waiter from the hotel brought the information at daybreak. I took a squad of soldiers with me to the place, and demanded the surrender of the blacks. The clerk said there were none in the house. Their owners had gone off with ‘‘the boys’’ at daybreak. I answered that I could take no man’s word in such a case, but must see for myself. When I was about to begin the search, a colored man secretly gave me the number of the room the men were in. The room was locked, and the porter refused

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to give up the keys. A threat to place him under arrest brought him to reason, and I found the colored men inside, as I had anticipated. One of them, an old man, who sat with his face between his hands, said as I entered: ‘‘So’thin’ tole me last night that so’ thin’ was a goin’ to happen to me.’’ That very day I mustered the nine men into the service of the government, and that made them free men. So much anger was excited by these proceedings, that the mayor and common council of Louisville visited General Burbage at his headquarters, and warned him that if I was not sent away within forty-eight hours my life would pay the forfeit. The General sternly answered them: ‘‘If James is killed, I will hold responsible for the act every man who ﬁlls an ofﬁce under your city government. I will hang them all higher than Haman was hung, and I have 15,000 troops behind me to carry out the order. Your only salvation lies in protecting this colored man’s life.’’ During my ﬁrst year and a half at Louisville, a guard was stationed at the door of my room every night, as a necessary precaution in view of the threats of violence of which I was the object. One night I received a suggestive hint of the treatment the rebel sympathizers had in store for me should I chance to fall into their hands. A party of them approached the house where I was lodged protected by a guard. The soldiers, who were new recruits, ran off in afright. I found escape by the street cut off, and as I ran for the rear alley I discovered that avenue also guarded by a squad of my enemies. As a last resort I jumped a side fence, and stole along until out of sight and hearing of the enemy. Making my way to the house of a colored man named White, I exchanged my uniform for an old suit of his, and then, sallying forth, mingled with the rebel party, to learn, if possible, the nature of their intentions. Not ﬁnding me, and not having noticed my escape, they concluded that they must have been misinformed as to my lodging place for that night. Leaving the locality they proceeded to the house of another friend of mine, named Bridle, whose home was on Tenth street. After vainly searching every room in Bridle’s house, they dispersed with the threat that if they got me I should hang to the nearest lamp-post. For a long time after I was placed in charge of the camp, I was forced to forbid the display of lights in any of the buildings at night, for fear of drawing the ﬁre of rebel bushwhackers. All the fugitives in the camp made their beds on the ﬂoor, to escape danger from riﬂe balls ﬁred through the thin siding of the frame structures. I established a Sunday and a day school in my camp and held religious services twice a week as well as on Sundays. I was ordered by General Palmer to marry every colored woman that came into camp to a soldier unless she objected to such a proceeding. The ceremony was a mere form to secure the freedom of the female colored refugees; for Congress had passed a law giving freedom to the wives and children of all colored soldiers and sailors in the service of the government. The Emancipation Proclamation, applying as it did only to states in rebellion, failed to meet the case of slaves in Kentucky, and we were obliged to resort to this ruse to escape the necessity of giving up to their masters many of the runaway slave women and children who ﬂocked to our camp. I had a contest of this kind with a slave trader known as Bill Hurd. He demanded the surrender of a colored woman in my camp who claimed her freedom on the plea that her husband had enlisted in the federal army. She wished to go to Cincinnati, and General Palmer, giving me a railway pass for her, cautioned me to see her on board the cars for the North before I left her. At the levee I saw Hurd and a

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policeman, and suspecting that they intended a rescue, I left the girl with the guard at the river and returned to the general for a detail of one or more men. During my absence Hurd claimed the woman from the guard and the latter brought all the parties to the provost marshal’s headquarters, although I had directed him to report to General Palmer with the woman in case of trouble; for I feared that the provost marshal’s sympathies were on the slave owner’s side. I met Hurd, the policeman and the woman at the corner of Sixth and Green streets and halted them. Hurd said the provost marshal had decided that she was his property. I answered—what I had just learned—that the provost marshal was not at his headquarters and that his subordinate had no authority to decide such a case. I said further that I had orders to take the party before General Palmer and proposed to do it. They saw it was not prudent to resist, as I had a guard to enforce the order. When the parties were heard before the general, Hurd said the girl had obtained her freedom and a pass by false pretenses. She was his property; he had paid $500 for her; she was single when he bought her and she had not married since. Therefore she could claim no rights under the law giving freedom to the wives of colored soldiers. The general answered that the charge of false pretenses was a criminal one and the woman would be held for trial upon it. ‘‘But,’’ said Hurd, ‘‘she is my property and I want her.’’ ‘‘No,’’ answered the general, ‘‘we keep our own prisoners.’’ The general said to me privately, after Hurd was gone: ‘‘The woman has a husband in our service and I know it; but never mind that. We’ll beat these rebels at their own game.’’ Hurd hung about headquarters two or three days until General Palmer said ﬁnally: ‘‘I have no time to try this case; take it before the provost marshal.’’ The latter, who had been given the hint, delayed action for several days more, and then turned over the case to General Dodge. After another delay, which still further tortured the slave trader, General Dodge said to me one day: ‘‘James, bring Mary to my headquarters, supply her with rations, have a guard ready, and call Hurd as a witness.’’ When the slave trader had made his statement to the same effect as before, General Dodge delivered judgment in the following words: ‘‘Hurd, you are an honest man. It is a clear case. All I have to do, Mary, is to sentence you to keep away from this department during the remainder of the present war. James, take her across the river and see her on board the cars.’’ ‘‘But, general,’’ whined Hurd, ‘‘that won’t do. I shall lose her services if you sent her north.’’ ‘‘You have nothing to do with it; you are only a witness in this case,’’ answered the general. I carried out the order strictly, to remain with Mary until the cars started; and under the protection of a ﬁle of guards, she was soon placed on the train en route for Cincinnati. Among the slaves I rescued and brought to the refugee camp was a girl named Laura, who had been locked up by her mistress in a cellar and left to remain there two days and as many nights without food or drink. Two refugee slave women were seen by their master making toward my camp, and calling upon a policeman he had then seized and taken them to the house of his brother-in-law on Washington street. When the facts were reported to me, I took a squad of guards to the house and rescued them. As I came out of the house with the slave women, their master asked me: ‘‘What are you going to do with them?’’ I answered that they would probably take care of themselves. He protested that he had always used the runaway women well, and appealing to one of them, asked: ‘‘Have I not, Angelina?’’ I directed the woman to answer the question, saying that she had as good a right to speak as he

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had, and that I would protect her in that right. She then said: ‘‘He tied my dress over my head Sunday and whipped me for refusing to carry victuals to the bushwhackers and guerillas in the woods.’’ I brought the women to camp, and soon afterwards sent them north to ﬁnd homes. I sent one girl rescued by me under somewhat similar circumstances as far as this city to ﬁnd a home with Colonel Klinck’s family. Up to that time in my career I had never received serious injury at any man’s hands. I was several times reviled and hustled by mobs in my ﬁrst tour of the district about the city of Rochester, and once when I was lecturing in New Hampshire a reckless, half-drunken fellow in the lobby ﬁred a pistol at me, the ball shattering the plaster a few feet from my head. But, as I said, I had never received serious injury. Now, however, I received a blow, the effects of which I shall carry to my grave. General Palmer sent me to the shop of a blacksmith who was suspected of bushwhacking, with an order requiring the latter to report at headquarters. The rebel, who was a powerful man, raised a short iron bar as I entered and aimed a savage blow at my head. By an instinctive movement I saved my life, but the blow fell on my neck and shoulders, and I was for a long time afterwards disabled by the injury. My right hand remains partially paralyzed and almost wholly useless to this day. Many a sad scene I witnessed at my camp of colored refugees in Louisville. There was the mother bereaved of her children, who had been sold and sent farther South lest they should escape in the general rush for the federal lines and freedom; children, orphaned in fact if not in name, for separation from parents among the colored people in those days left no hope of reunion this side the grave; wives forever parted from their husbands, and husbands who might never hope to catch again the brightening eye and the welcoming smile of the help-mates whose hearts God and nature had joined to theirs. Such recollections come fresh to me when with trembling voice I sing the old familiar song of anti-slavery days: Oh deep was the anguish of the slave mother’s heart When called from her darling forever to part; So grieved that lone mother, that broken-hearted mother In sorrow and woe. The child was borne off to a far-distant clime While the mother was left in anguish to pine; But reason departed, and she sank broken-hearted In sorrow and woe. I remained at Louisville a little over three years, staying for some months after the war closed in charge of the colored camp, the hospital, dispensary and government stores. In 1865 the colored people of Kentucky were called upon for the ﬁrst time to celebrate the Fourth of July. I spoke to General Palmer about it, and he, approving the idea, issued a proclamation for the purpose. There was but a single voice raised against it, and that, strange as it may seem, was the voice of a colored Baptist preacher named Adams. But the slave holders had always pursued the policy of buying over to their interest a few unworthy colored ministers who took an active part in the peaceful political revolution which placed the local government of the District of Columbia in loyal hands. In 1878 I was appointed by Bishop Wayman a missionary preacher for the colored churches of Ohio. While engaged in this

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missionary work I was driven out of Darke county by a terrorizing band of rufﬁans, who called themselves regulators, and many of whom were from the Kentucky side of the river. A number of leading white citizens were treated in like manner by the same band. In 1880, when the exodus from the South began, I labored under the direction of the Topeka Relief Association in behalf of the homeless throngs of colored people who ﬂocked into Kansas. In the following year this relief was discontinued, and we organized in southern Kansas an agricultural and industrial institute, of which I became general agent. The institute of which Elizabeth L. Comstock was an active advocate, is still in existence, and has done a noble work in the education of people of color. My last charge was the pastorate of the African Methodist Episcopal Church at Lockport. Between three and four years ago both my eyes became affected by cataracts, and I now grope my way in almost complete blindness. My home is again in the city of Rochester, where I began my life work. In 1829 I married in this city a free colored girl, and by her had four children, two of whom are now married and living at the West. My ﬁrst wife died in 1841. Sixteen years ago I married again. My wife was a slave, freed by Sherman at the capture of Atlanta and sent north with other colored refugees. I ﬁrst met her in the State of Pennsylvania. She is the companion of my old age. Two children—my daughter, who is in the ﬁfteenth year of her age, and my son, who is verging on his twelfth year, are the comfort and joy of our household. With them I sing the old ‘‘Liberty Minstrel’’ songs, which carry me back to the days when the conscience of the North was ﬁrst awakened to the iniquities of slavery. Blessed be God that I have lived to see the liberation and the enfranchisement of the people of my color and blood! You ask me what change for the better has taken place in the condition of the colored people of this locality in my day. I answer that the Anti-Slavery agitation developed an active and generous sympathy for the free colored man of the North, as well as for his brother in bondage. We felt the good effect of that sympathy and the aid and encouragement which accompanied it. But now that the end of the Anti-Slavery agitation has been fully accomplished, our white friends are inclined to leave us to our own resources, overlooking the fact that social prejudices still close the trades against our youth, and that we are again as isolated as in the days before the wrongs of our race touched the heart of the American people. After breathing for so considerable a period an atmosphere surcharged with sympathy for our race, we feel the more keenly the current of neglect which seems to have chilled against us even the enlightened and religious classes of the communities among which we live, but of which we cannot call ourselves a part. Oh! deep was the anguish of the slave mother’s heart, When called from her darling for ever to part; So grieved that lone mother, that heart-broken mother, In sorrow and woe. The lash of the master her deep sorrows mock, While the child of her bosom is sold on the block; Yet loud shrieked that mother, poor heart-broken mother, In sorrow and woe. The babe in return, for its fond mother cries, While the sound of their wailings together arise; They shriek for each other; the child and the mother,

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In sorrow and woe. The harsh auctioneer, to sympathy cold, Tears the babe from its mother and sells it for gold, While the infant and mother loud shriek for each other, In sorrow and woe. At last came the parting of mother and child— Her brain reeled with madness—that mother was wild; Then the lash could not smother the shrieks of that mother Of sorrow and woe. The child was borne off to a far distant clime, While the mother was left in anguish to pine; But reason departed, and she sank broken-hearted, In sorrow and woe. That poor mourning mother, of reason bereft, Soon ended her sorrows and sank cold in death: Thus died that slave mother, poor heart-broken mother, In sorrow and woe. Oh! list ye kind mothers to the cries of the slave, The parents and children implore you to save; Go! rescue the mothers, the sisters and brothers, From sorrow and woe. (Scene in the nether world-purporting to be a conversation between the ghost of a Southern slaveholding clergyman and the devil!) At dead of night, when others sleep, Near Hell I took my station; And from that dungeon, dark and deep, o’erheard this conversation: ‘‘Hail, Prince of Darkness, ever hail, Adored by each infernal, I come among your gang to wail, And taste of death eternal.’’ ‘‘Where are you from?’’ the ﬁend demands, ‘‘What makes you look so frantic? Are you from Carolina’s strand, Just west of the Atlantic? ‘‘Are you that man of blood and birth, Devoid of human feeling— The wretch I saw, when last on earth, In human cattle dealing? ‘‘Whose soul with blood and rapine stain’d, With deeds of crime to dark it; Who drove God’s image, starved and chained, To sell like beasts in market? ‘‘Who tore the infant from the breast, That you might sell its mother?

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Whose craving mind could never rest Till you had sold a brother? ‘‘Who gave the sacrament to those Whose chains and handcuffs rattle? Whose backs soon after felt the blows, More heavy than thy cattle? ‘‘I’m from the South,’’ the ghost replies, ‘‘And I was there a teacher; Saw men in chains, with laughing eyes: I was a Southern Preacher! ‘‘In tasseled pulpit, gay and ﬁne, I strove to please the tyrants, To prove that slavery is divine, And what the Scripture warrants. ‘‘And when I saw the horrid sight Of slaves by torture dying, And told their masters all was right, I knew that I was lying. ‘‘I knew all this, and who can doubt I felt a sad misgiving But still, I knew if I spoke out That I should lose my living. ‘‘They made me fat—they paid me well— To preach down abolition. I slept—I died—I woke in Hell— How altered my condition! ‘‘I now am in a sea of ﬁre, Whose fury ever rages; I am a slave, and can’t get free Through everlasting ages. ‘‘Yes! when the sun and moon shall fade, And ﬁre the rocks dissever, I must sink down beneath the shade, And feel God’s wrath forever.’’ Our Ghost stood trembling all the while— He saw the scene transpiring; With soul aghast and visage sad, All hope was now retiring. The demon cried, on vengeance bent, ‘‘I say, in haste, retire! And you shall have a Negro sent To attend and punch the ﬁre.’’ Louisville, Kentucky, July 8th, 1865. Rev. Thomas James, now of the Military Police of this Department, is hereby continued in charge of the HOME FOR THE COLORED REFUGEES, in the city of Louisville. His authority to manage the same, subject to the following and such

45. A memorial souvenir of Rev. J. Wofford White, Pastor of Wesley M.E. Church

other rules as may hereafter be prescribed, is to be regarded as only subordinate Headquarters of the Department. 1. Said Thomas James will have charge of the Home and of all the property and furniture therein, and of all the property which may be committed to his care by freed men and women. 2. He will receive into the House only such persons as need temporary assistance; will give all such whatever advice or assistance in ﬁnding homes and employment that may be in his power. He will superintend contracts they may make for employment or service, and encourage all to industry and good conduct. 3. No guards or other persons will be allowed to enter said house without his permission. 4. Said James is authorized and directed to establish a Sabbath and Day School in connection with said house, and to make and enforce proper rules for the government of said schools. 5. He will make such rules for the government of the house and the conduct of the inmates as he may deem proper with reference to police, and will read his rules every Sabbath day once to the occupants of the house. 6. Said Thomas James will keep a record of the number of men women and children received into the house each day, No. Sick, No. Deaths, No. discharged and No. remaining over, and such other facts as will give a correct view of his operations.

John M. Palmer, Maj. General Commanding. Source: Rochester, N.Y. 1887. Third edition, Rochester, N.Y.: Post-Express Printing Company, 1887. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

45. A memorial souvenir of Rev. J. Wofford White, Pastor of Wesley M.E. Church, Charleston, S.C., who fell asleep, January 7th, 1890, aged 33 years, 1890 GEORGE C. ROWE CLINTON George C. Rowe Clinton, an African American minister in Charleston, South Carolina, writes two poems in memory of J. Wofford White, pastor of Wesley M.E. Church in Charleston in 1890. GOD’S MESSENGER How beauteous, how grand, on the crest of the mountain, Are the feet of the messenger, servant of God; The King’s representative, bringing good tidings, Of peace and full pardon, to publish abroad. How gentle his accents, how winsome and tender He tells all that wonderful story of love; Of love so amazing,—magniﬁcent wonder— Transcending our knowledge, and pointing above. So he led forth the ﬂock which to him God had given, Forth into the nourishing pastures of green;

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On the right of the beautiful mountain of Zion, To the bright living waters, the life-giving stream. He led them with care in the path of the righteous, In ways whither conﬂict and discord must cease; Where, walking in love, in the footprints of Jesus, They enter His kingdom through pathways of peace. And ofttimes he entered the Valley of Shadows With those whom he loved, to give counsel and cheer;— To show that in darkness existeth no shadow, That ev’n in the valley, King Jesus is near. Yes, near, and His presence dispelleth the darkness, His radiance in glory outrivals the sun; When they who trust Him droop in physical weakness, He gives strength to complete the full course well-begun. These lessons which often he taught to another, Were welcomed from others when the closing hours came; With the courage of faith he greeted each brother, And welcomed each message they brought in His Name. The messenger came at the dawn of the morning: ‘‘The Master hath need of thee, come, come away!’’ Like a tired little child, his eyes gently closing, He slept, to awake in the bright realms of day. ‘tis ﬁnished! The battle of life now is ended; A victor he stands on the gloriﬁed shore! ‘tis ﬁnished! The victory for which he contended Is won; and he reigneth with Christ evermore! We greet thee, dear Brother! Watch, watch, we are coming! Though here on the nether shore longer we wait! But watch Brother White, we shall meet in the morning, With triumph we’ll enter the Beautiful Gate! How beauteous, how grand, on the crest of the mountain His feet, who God’s message hath published abroad; And, bright as the morning, the crown now adorning, The brow of our Brother in the palace of God! January 7th, 1890. Source: Charleston, S. C.: Walker, Evans & Cogswell Co., Printers, 1890. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A. P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

46. What the Southern Negro is Doing for Himself, June 1891 SAMUEL J. BARROWS In this statement, Atlantic Monthly contributor Samuel J. Barrows summarized the progress of the African American in American society. He pointed out that there were new leaders in this community to whom many young scholars could look for inspiration. In addition, he illustrated that the black man had a community of

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support, which had provided opportunities for business, education, and collaboration of creative expression. For twenty-six years the Negro has had his freedom, and now the question is, What use has he made of it? I have just returned from an extended trip through the South, arranged and made solely for the purpose of getting an answer to the question, What is the colored man doing for himself? I have traveled through Virginia, the Carolinas, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, returning through Tennessee, the District of Columbia, and Maryland. In the course of this journey, covering 3500 miles, I have visited schools, colleges, and industrial institutions in most of the large centres of the South, from Baltimore to New Orleans. I have gone through the Black Belt, inspected the agricultural districts, visited farms and cabins, and have seen every phase of Negro life, from the destitution of the one-room cabin to the homes of the comfortable and prosperous, and every degree of social standing, from the convicts in the chain gang in the New Orleans Parish prison and the Birmingham mines to ministers, lawyers, doctors, and bankers on the top round of the social ladder. As a result of this observation and experience, I have some interesting evidence as to what the Negro is doing for himself. Under slavery the Negro was mainly a plantation laborer. Freedom found him where slavery left him. While there has been some transmigration to the South and North, the shifting of population since the war has not been great. The Negro and his descendants remain pretty much in the places where they lived when the war closed. Three courses were open to him as a free man: ﬁrst, to rent his own labor; secondly, to rent and work the land of his former master; thirdly, to buy and work a farm for himself. All these courses have in turn been accepted. As a simple farm laborer the Negro has small opportunity to accumulate. His wages do not average over ﬁfty or sixty cents a day. Two tendencies are observable in the agricultural districts of the South: one is the exceptional aggregation of immense farms under white ownership, worked by Negro laborers; the other is the segmentation of the old plantations into small farms let out to Negro tenants. In Georgia, for example, one white farmer owns 20,000 acres of land, and employs a vast number of Negroes. But in the districts I have visited the breaking up of the old plantations into small farms has been the more common process. All through the Black Belt and the adjacent country, plantations have been cut up and rented to Negroes in ‘‘one-mule farms’’ of from twenty-ﬁve to thirty acres each. Other things being equal, the step from the position of a man who simply lets out his own labor to the position of one who hires a ﬁeld for its exercise is a step in advance. It furnishes conditions which stimulate intelligence, self-interest, and power of self-help; it is the roadway towards earning a farm and a home. Great numbers of Negroes have taken this initiative. But the transition is not easily made. Farms are not to be had for the asking. The Negro was not a capitalist. He was without credit, and his capacity for managing his own affairs was distrusted. He has had to contend, and is still contending, with an onerous system of commercial oppression which keeps him down. This is the mortgage system, or the lien on the crop, which prevails very extensively in the Black Belt. The colored man who hires twenty-ﬁve or thirty acres of land pays at the lowest one bale of cotton, worth about $50; or sometimes he pays as much as two or two and a half bales, equivalent to $100 or $125 rent. When we know that land can be bought at from ﬁve to seven dollars an acre, we see that the rent in some cases equals half the value of the farm. If the Negro raised all his own corn, meat, and vegetables, he would still be able to make progress, but he is dependent for clothes and much of

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his provisions upon the storekeeper. As he cannot buy with ready money, he mortgages his crop, paying twenty and twenty-ﬁve per cent, and in exceptional cases one hundred per cent, interest on the amount of his bill. It matters not that he does not begin to draw his goods for three months after the contract is made; he pays interest just the same on the whole amount from the beginning. Add to this that the Negro is charged in the ﬁrst instance three or four prices for what he buys, and it can easily be seen that when the crop is all gathered little or nothing of it belongs to him. ‘‘I go to Pennsylvania,’’ said a colored farmer, ‘‘and can buy sugar for six and a half cents a pound, but in North Carolina it is eleven cents. The merchant is making a vast proﬁt.’’ The colored race has emerged from civil bondage. The next step will be to come out of a bondage which is ﬁnancial. To know, therefore, what the colored man is doing for himself we must know the conditions from which he has to rise. These are hard enough, but not beyond the capacity of the Negro to break through them, as is shown in thousands of instances. Thus in Virginia and Kentucky and Tennessee the condition of things is much better than further south, and the colored man, in spite of these obstacles, is rapidly becoming a farmowner and householder. ‘‘In North Carolina,’’ said Bishop Moore, ‘‘our people are buying land wherever they can get it.’’ Land ranges from ten to ﬁfteen dollars an acre, in some places running as low as eight dollars. The bishop himself has a little farm of thirty-three acres, near Salisbury, that cost thirty-four dollars an acre. ‘‘I am so anxious to see my race improve,’’ he said, ‘‘that I should like to have a great deal more done, but in view of the small wages we get for labor we are doing pretty well.’’ In Tennessee, experts assured me that the colored people are buying land throughout the country, and the mortgage system does not prevail extensively. As we go south and enter the Black Belt, the conditions vary with the fertility of the soil, the intelligence of the people, and the degree of education. A great difference is sometimes apparent in different counties in the same State. Thus in Lee County, Georgia, the people are largely laborers, working for wages. But in Marion County ﬁfty per cent of the people own homes, and some of them have large plantations. In Sumter and Terrell counties, they likewise live mostly on farms. In the latter county, I was told that in a small city of 10,000 nearly all the colored people own their homes, and live in cabins or houses varying in size from one room to eight. The same difference is seen in Alabama. In Russell County the blacks are much behind those of Pike County, where there are better schools and more freedom from the mortgage system. In Bullock County, much government land has been preempted by the Negroes. In one section of that county the colored people are prosperous, one man of exceptional thrift owning 300 acres, twelve good mules, and four horses, and raising his own meat and potatoes. In Coffee County, the people are just beginning to rent their homes. In Elmore County, many have farms of ﬁfty acres. In Macon County, not much land is owned. In Barbour County, land is mainly rented, but there are many who have stock. In the southern part of Randolph County, about half of the blacks own their land. In one township of Lee County, nearly all the colored people own their homes. At Notasulga, about half the people have farms ranging from twenty-ﬁve to one hundred and ﬁfty acres. Here I learned of one prosperous woman farmer, who raises three or four bales of cotton, as well as potatoes, chickens, and cows. In the vicinity of Birmingham, farms are owned ranging from ﬁfty to two hundred acres. The home-buying that is going on in the agricultural districts is going on also in the cities. In Montgomery, street after street is owned by colored people. In

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Chattanooga, one third of the colored people own their homes. Suburban lots range in cost from $350 to $400. A cottage costs in the neighborhood of $600 to $650. In Birmingham, colored people pay $10 or $12 a month rent. A number of householders have gardens with two or three acres of land. Some were fortunate enough to purchase land before the prices went up, and have proﬁted by the rise. The Negro is also venturing as a tradesman. In all the large cities, and even in the smaller towns, in the South, he is hanging out his sign. Two young men have engaged in the grocery business at Tuskegee, Alabama. Their credit is good at the bank, and I was told that they were doing more for their race by their industry and thrift than could be done by any amount of talk. The colored grocers in Birmingham are sharing the prosperity of this thriving city. Near a little place which I visited in the Black Belt, a colored school-teacher, who got his education with hand and brain at Tuskegee, had bought for $225 a lot of land, and established a grocery store. At Tuscaloosa, the livery stable man who drove me owns several horses and carriages, and is doing well. Thus, in whatever direction one goes, he can ﬁnd Negroes who are rising by force of education and of character. The inﬂuence of such schools as Hampton, Atlanta, and Tuskegee is felt all through the South in the stimulus given to industrial occupations. Tuskegee has turned out a number of printers, who have made themselves independent, and get patronage from both white and colored customers. One has a printing ofﬁce in Montgomery. Another has opened an ofﬁce in Texas. The growth of journalism and the gradual reduction of illiteracy among the colored people will make a way for many printers. In all the mechanical trades, colored men are ﬁnding places as blacksmiths, wheelwrights, masons, bricklayers, carpenters, tinsmiths, harnessmakers, shoemakers, and machinists. In Washington, colored brickmakers are earning from four to ﬁve dollars a day. Hod-carriers receive $1.50. A boy trained in the industrial department of Atlanta University has built a schoolhouse in Alabama on contract. This boy can earn $2.50 a day with his hands and tools, and is besides a college graduate. In slavery times there was no stimulus to Negro inventiveness. Before the war, an application made at the United States Patent Ofﬁce for a patent for a Negro inventor was denied, on the ground that he was a slave. With industrial education and diversiﬁed mechanical pursuits, the Negro brain is becoming adaptive and creative. The records of the United States Patent Ofﬁce make no distinction between white and colored inventors. It is impossible to furnish statistics, therefore, showing how much the colored man has done in this direction. The chief of the issue division surmises that there may be between ﬁve and ten thousand colored patentees, but this estimate has no reliable basis, being derived simply from the casual reports of attorneys in paying their fees. A colored assistant examiner in the Patent Ofﬁce department has, however, placed at my service a list of some ﬁfty patents taken out by colored people, which show the scope of their inventive genius. In the list of things represented are an improved gridiron, a locomotive smokestack, a cornstalk harvester, a shield for infantry and artillery, a ﬁre extinguisher, a dough kneader, a cotton cultivator, life-preserving apparatus, a furniture caster, a biscuit cutter, a rotary engine, a printing press, a ﬁle holder, a window ventilator for railroad cars, an automatic switch for railroads, and a telephone transmitter. The electric inventions are said to have a good deal of merit, and have been assigned to a prominent company. In Birmingham, a colored inventor is making money out of his patent. With the purchase of homes and the accumulation of property, the colored people are gradually changing their condition of living. It is seen at its worst in the miserable

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one-room cabins of the country districts, and in the alley population of such cities as Washington and Baltimore. In the Black Belt, the typical home is a rude log cabin, without windows, and with one door and a stick chimney. The door is usually kept open during the day, in fair weather, to admit light, which at night is furnished by a pine knot. Into such cabins a whole family is frequently crowded. In Alabama, I heard of twenty-ﬁve persons living in three rooms. The genial climate permits a good deal of outdoor living, and the babies need no sand yards to be made for their beneﬁt. The mother sets them out on the ground, and lets them roll. Bad as the one-room cabin is, it is not so bad as the tenement house in the slums of the great cities. The Negro, too, can rival the Chinaman in practicing economy. Sixty cents a week, spent in pork, meal, and syrup, will keep him well alive. At Athens, Georgia, a colored man testiﬁed in court that ‘‘a man can live mighty good on thirty-ﬁve cents a week.’’ The social evolution of the Negro can be seen even by the casual observer. A house with a window, even if closed with a shutter, is an improvement over one which has only a door, and a double-room house is an improvement over one with a single room. The inﬂuence of new ambition is seen later in the growth of the cabin into a two-story house, and at the dinner table in a more varied bill of fare. At Pensacola, where the wages received for loading vessels are unusually good, the laborer is prosperous, and a colored censor said, deprecatingly: ‘‘The live ‘most too high as far as eating is concerned; some of them eat as ﬁne food as millionaires.’’ A Methodist bishop told me that in Montgomery $24,000 was spent annually on excursions. The Negro is surely learning how to earn his dollar, but he has not learned how to spend it. He is buying his experience dear. The patent-medicine vender and the sewing-machine peddler draw no distinctions in regard to color, and the black often insists on spending his money as foolishly as his white brother. In one little country cabin stood a wooden clock worth about $1.25, for which a woman had paid $10, giving new sarcasm to the proverb that ‘‘time is money.’’ Yet the Negro’s knowledge of what a dollar will buy is growing. New social ambitions are manifest even in the humblest cabins. The illustrated newspaper furnishes decoration for the walls. The old people can admire the pictures, and the younger ones can read the text. The cheap chromo follows, until by and by the evolution of taste produces a house such as one I visited in Washington, in which three beautiful copies of celebrated Madonnas were hanging on the walls. In the cities social development is going on more rapidly, though here we also ﬁnd greater social degradation. With all their destitution, the people in the country cabins are not tempted by the liquor saloons. The social progress of the Negro is well illustrated by two historic cities,—the federal capital at Washington and the former capital of the Confederacy at Montgomery. The casual traveler, who sees the alley districts and the settlements around the railroads, forms no better idea of the social development of the Negro than he does of Northern whites, if he conﬁnes his inspection to similar localities. In Montgomery, under the guidance of Dr. Dorsette, a colored physician and a respected citizen, I had an opportunity to see the homes of the colored people at their best. In some of the streets, the whites occupy one side, and the blacks the other. Occasionally the colors alternate, like the squares on a checkerboard. It is not easy externally to tell one from the other. The interiors of these homes, especially of the younger and more progressive people, are comfortably and tastefully furnished. The rooms are as high as those of their white neighbors, well carpeted and papered, while the

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piano or the cabinet organ suggests loftier musical tastes than that of the plantation banjo. While in most respects the movement or development of the white and colored races runs on parallel lines, in music they seem to be going in opposite directions. Though I traveled all through the South, in urban, suburban, and agricultural districts, from Baltimore to New Orleans, the only banjo I heard was played in Atlanta by a white man. Returning to Boston, one of the ﬁrst sights which met my eyes was that of a fashionable young lady carrying the instrument the Negro is discarding. I was twice serenaded at Tuskegee, once by a brass band, once by a string band, and I slept well after both performances. In New Orleans, I was astounded at the strange phenomenon of a colored hand-organ grinder. Whether this represents a state of musical development or degeneracy, as compared with the banjo, I will not undertake, in the present state of Northern fascination, to decide. It is estimated that there are from 250 to 300 pianos and cabinet organs in the homes of colored people in Montgomery. The pride of the colored people in buying these homes and furnishing them is a healthful form of domestic ambition, requiring sacriﬁce and resolute concentration of purpose. A ﬁne house on a corner lot was shown me which had been bought with the savings of a hackman. Even in the poorer districts it is interesting to note the ambition to improve. ‘‘I have seen these houses grow,’’ said the doctor. ‘‘There is one in which lives an old woman. She began with one room, then built on another; then ﬁnished off one, and now has just ﬁnished off the other. It has taken her some time, but she has done it.’’ Immediately after the war I lived at the national capital. Thousands of destitute blacks from Virginia and further south had settled in the barracks around the city. They owned little more than the clothes on their backs, and most of these had been given to them. The change in these districts is remarkable. Large numbers of people live in their own homes. There is not much squalor outside of the alley population. Even the poorest houses have some comforts and show some endeavor to improve. A similar story may be told of Baltimore. Standards among the negroes are becoming as varied as among the whites. In some districts I was informed that a colored man had very little standing with his own people unless he had a trade or profession. It is inevitable, too, that cliques and afﬁliations should be formed, with the advantage and disadvantage which come from such social differentiation. Two aristocracies are appearing in the colored race,—the aristocracy of culture and the aristocracy of wealth. Fortunately, at present, in the younger generation culture and prosperity are moving together. The colored man’s standard of wealth is relatively much smaller than that of the white man. There are no Negro millionaires that I know of; but there is growing up a class of men with fortunes ranging from $15,000 to $100,000. This accumulation has been going on in recent years with increasing rapidity. The colored people in North Carolina are said to have amassed more in the last ﬁve years than they did in the twenty years preceding. In most of the States, there are no data from which the amount of taxes paid by the Negroes can be separated from that paid by the whites, or the valuation of their property ascertained. It is one good result of the Fourteenth Amendment that no distinction is made in law between property owned by whites and that owned by blacks. Georgia is the only State in which the comptroller is able to furnish the ﬁgures for 1890. The amount of taxes paid by the whites in that State was

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$1,599,977.75; by the colored people, $48,795.13. The property of whites was assessed at a valuation of $404,287,311; the property of blacks, at a valuation of $12,332,003. The Census Bureau at Washington has the material for making these comparisons in the different States, and as the question is now one of sociology, and not of politics, it is to be hoped that the ﬁgures which illustrate the progress of the Negro may be published. The total valuation of Negro property in the South has been given as $150,000,000 or $200,000,000. There are those who maintain that the colored man does not receive full credit for what he is paying. In North Carolina, a daily Democratic paper claimed, about two months ago, that the colored people are paying about three times the tax they are credited with by actual statistics. There are conspicuous cases of individual prosperity in nearly all the large centres and in the agricultural districts. Thus, in Montgomery, Alabama, a colored barber, originally a slave, has accumulated property amounting to $75,000 or $100,000. An ex-slave in Mississippi has bought one of the plantations that formerly belonged to Jefferson Davis. The colored people of Maryland are said to possess property to the amount of $9,000,000. In Baltimore, there are several colored men worth $15,000 each, three or four worth from $40,000 to $60,000, and the estate of a Negro recently deceased was appraised at $100,000. In Washington, also, colored men have proﬁted by the rise of real estate, and a few are possessed of ample fortunes. These instances might be greatly multiplied from my notes. The subject of Negro education is vast and absorbing. Among its varied aspects two are of special and correlative interest: ﬁrst, What is education doing for the Negro; secondly, What is the Negro doing for education? In this paper I can refer only to the latter topic. But these questions cannot be absolutely separated. No man ‘‘receives an education’’ who does not get a good deal of it himself. The student is not so much inert material; he reacts on the forces which impress him. The Negroes are showing their awakened and eager interest in education by the zeal with which they are embracing their opportunities. Everywhere I found in colleges, normal institutes, and district schools fresh, live interest. In some sections, the eagerness of the colored people for knowledge amounts to an absolute thirst. In Alabama, the state superintendent of education, a former Confederate major, assured me that the colored people in that state are more interested in education than the whites are. Nothing shows better this zeal for education than the sacriﬁces made to secure it. President Bumstead, of Atlanta University, asks, ‘‘Where in the history of the world have so large a mass of equally poor and unlettered people done so much to help themselves in educational work?’’ This challenge will long remain unanswered. The students of Atlanta University pay thirty-four per cent of the expenses of that institution. A letter from the treasurer of Harvard College informs me that about the same proportion of its expenses is paid from tuition fees. If we compare the wealth represented by the students of Harvard with that represented by the colored students of Atlanta, we shall ﬁnd how large a sacriﬁce the latter are making in order to do so much. It must be remembered, also, that at Harvard tuition fees and other expenses are mostly paid by parents and guardians; at Atlanta they are paid by the students themselves, and to a large degree by personal labor. President Bumstead calculates that for every million dollars contributed by the North at least a half million is contributed by the colored people for educational purposes. Though it is difﬁcult to get the material for such large and general totals, it is easy to furnish a vast number of facts illustrating the truth that in the very process of getting his education the Negro

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is learning the lesson of self-help. Among the denominational colleges, the Livingston Institute at Salisbury, North Carolina, is a good illustration of this capacity for self-help. It receives no state aid. The colored people of the Zion Methodist Episcopal church give $8000 towards the support of this school. The students give towards their own support not less than $6000 more. The president, Dr. Price, one of the ablest colored orators of the South, is a conspicuous example of what the colored man can do for himself. Another remarkable illustration is furnished by the Tuskegee Normal School. This institution was started in 1881 by a Hampton graduate, Mr. Booker T. Washington, on a state appropriation of $2000. It has grown from 30 pupils to 450, with 31 teachers. During the last year 200 applicants had to be turned away for want of room. Fourteen hundred acres of land and fourteen school buildings form a part of the equipment. While friends of education, North and South, have generously helped its growth, the success of the school is due largely to the executive ability of Mr. Washington and his ofﬁcers. General Armstrong says, ‘‘I think it is the noblest and grandest work of any colored man in the land.’’ All the teachers are colored. Of the fourteen school buildings, eight have been erected, in whole or in part, by the students. The school is broadly unsectarian. It is teaching the colored people the dignity of labor and how to get out of debt. It is an agricultural and industrial school combined. Its stimulating and renovating inﬂuence is felt all through the Black Belt. One of the most important results of the excellent work done by Hampton, Atlanta, and Tuskegee is seen in the radiating inﬂuence they exert through the country in stimulating primary education. In most of the communities of the lower Southern States, the money derived from local taxation is not sufﬁcient to keep the school more than three months in the year, and the pay of teachers is poor. The interest of these communities is so quickened by a good teacher that the people raise money to extend the school time and supplement the pay of the teacher. A few examples taken from many will illustrate. In one district in Alabama, the school time was thus extended by private subscription from three months to seven. In Coffee County, the teacher’s salary was increased from ten to twenty-ﬁve dollars a month. In many cases the raising of this extra sum means a good deal of self-denial. As the State makes no appropriation for school-houses, most of the schools in the Black Belt are held in churches, which gives rise to sectarian jealousy and disturbance. To overcome these difﬁculties and build school-houses, additional sacriﬁce is required. In a district of Butler County, Alabama, the children formed a ‘‘one cent society.’’ They brought to the teacher a penny a day. About thirty dollars was raised to buy land, and the school-teacher, a colored girl, helped to clear it and burn the brush. In one township, where the school fund is sufﬁcient for seven or nine months, the teachers are paid thirty-ﬁve dollars a month. In Lee County, the people ‘‘supplement’’ for an assistant teacher. One district school which I visited, eighteen miles from Tuskegee, taught by a graduate of its institute, well illustrated the advantage of industrial education. Having learned the carpenter’s trade at the normal school, he was able, with the help of his pupils, to build a ﬁne new school-house. The girls often do better than the men. One, who teaches about twenty-ﬁve miles from Tuskegee, has now a good two-story school building with four rooms. She has two assistant teachers, who live with her in the building. She has revolutionized that section of the country. A Hampton student whom I met once applied for a school in his district, as he wished to learn to read and write. He was told that there was not a sufﬁcient number of children. Then he offered

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to give a school building, if the town would furnish a teacher. With the aid of his father he carried out the plan, and established a good school. Samuel Smiles might easily make a library of books on Self-Help out of thousands of individual examples furnished by the colored people. The interest in education is seen also in the self-denial and sacriﬁce which parents make to keep their children at school. This sacriﬁce falls chieﬂy on the mothers. A student told me that two thirds of the younger scholars at Tuskegee were sent by their mothers. Very often the mother is a widow. She may get twenty dollars a month, or eight, or only four, for her labor. Out of this small sum she sends to college and clothes her boy or girl. ‘‘I know mothers,’’ said a student, ‘‘who get three dollars a month, and out of that pay one dollar for the rent, and yet send their children to school.’’ To do this they will wash all day and half the night. Said a colored clergyman in Chattanooga: ‘‘Sometimes, when I go about and see how hard many of these mothers work, I feel almost inclined to say, ‘You ought to keep your child at home;’ but they hold on with wonderful persistence. Two girls graduated from Atlanta University. Their mother had been washing several years to keep them in school. She came up to see them graduate. She was one of the happiest mothers I ever saw.’’ At Selma University, some of the students walk from ten to ﬁfteen miles a day in going to and from the university. There is one education which the children get; there is another which they give to their parents. The inﬂuence of the normal school reacts on the home life. The boys and girls at Hampton and Tuskegee are taught to keep house. They are not satisﬁed to live in the old way, when they go home. ‘‘I have seen,’’ says Professor Washington, ‘‘the inﬂuence of the daughter so potent, when she got home, that the father has torn down the old house, and built another and better one.’’ The result of higher education is seen in the rise of a professional class. I remember the time when a colored doctor was a curiosity even in Washington; but colored physicians, lawyers, journalists, college professors, dentists, educated clergymen, and teachers are now to be found in all the large cities of the South. In Montgomery, Dr. Dorsette has built up a thriving practice. He has erected a three-story brick building, on the lower ﬂoor of which are two stores, one of them a large and wellequipped drug store. A hall above is used for the accommodation of colored societies. In Birmingham, there are two practicing physicians, one dentist, and one lawyer. At Selma, the practicing physician is a graduate of the university. There is also a pharmacist, owning his drug store, who studied at Howard University. There are six colored lawyers and seven colored physicians in Baltimore. The professional men command the conﬁdence and support of their own people. Journalism is growing slowly. There are now about ﬁfty-ﬁve well established Negro newspapers and journals. Thirty-seven are in the Southern States; seven are monthlies and two are semi-monthlies. The aggregate weekly circulation of all is about 805,000 copies. There are other ephemeral journals, not included in this list. The largest circulation, 15,000, is claimed for the Indianapolis Freeman. The colored people are determined to have their churches, and they subscribe, in proportion to their means, large sums to sustain them. Last year the Zion Methodist Episcopal church in North Carolina raised $84,000 to support its religious institutions. This amount represents but one State and but one denomination. The churches built reﬂect fairly the social standard of the people. In the comparatively new city of Birmingham, there are seven comfortable colored churches, ranging in cost from $2000 to $15,000. In Washington, two churches cost nearly $30,000 each,

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and the money has been raised almost exclusively by the colored people. In Baltimore, there are forty-four colored churches, holding a large amount of property. The old-time preacher still ﬁlls the pulpit in many communities, and the old slaves are loath to give up the hysteric emotionalism of revival preaching. The younger and progressive Negroes are breaking away from it, and demanding preachers whose intelligence and education secure respect. They are giving up, too, the old slave melodies. Modern Protestant hymnology is substituted. The universities and theological schools are meeting the demand for better preachers. The colored people are also ambitious to pay their preachers as much as the whites pay theirs. In Montgomery, one colored preacher has a salary of $1200 a year with a parsonage. In another city in Alabama, $1800 is paid. The standard of morality is rising, also. There is more respect for property now that the Negro is learning what mine and thine mean. An eminent judge of Louisiana assured me that intoxication among the colored people is the principal cause of crime, but that crime does not exist to the same extent that it formerly did. Marriage, he said, had changed largely the condition of their society. The Negroes are seeking to make this a matter of importance, so that their rights of property may be respected. The temperance movement makes headway. In Methodist conferences in North Carolina, and possibly elsewhere, no one is admitted to the ministry who uses liquor or tobacco. The colored people do more towards taking care of their unfortunate classes than is generally realized. With all the destitution that exists, there is almost no mendicancy. When one considers how much is done in the North for hospitals, homes, and institutions of every sort, and how little in the South, it is apparent that aid must come from some other quarter. The colored orphan asylum established by Mrs. Steele in Chattanooga is, I am told, the only Protestant colored orphan asylum south of Washington. What, then, becomes of orphan children? They are adopted. I have met such children in many homes, and their love and respect for their foster parents refute the charge that the Negro is incapable of gratitude. Thus the colored people have instinctively and of necessity adopted the placing-out system for orphans, which, other things being equal, is the best disposition that can be made of them. In other respects the colored people have developed a laudable disposition to take care of their own poor. In addition to the Odd Fellows, Masons, and Knights of Pythias, benevolent and fraternal organizations are multiplying. The city churches are feeling a new impulse to such work. Brotherhoods, Good Samaritan societies, and mutual beneﬁt organizations are established. Members of these organizations are allowed a regular stipend when sick. In New Orleans, the colored people have started a widows’ home, and have collected enough money to buy a piece of ground and to put up a respectable building. In Montgomery, I visited the Hale Inﬁrmary, founded by the late Joseph Hale and his wife, leading colored citizens. It is a large two-story building, especially designed by the son-in-law of the founder for hospital purposes. Such gifts and such organizations show that there is a disposition among the colored people to adopt the practices of a higher order of society. It is charged that the Negro imitates the vices of the white; it is often overlooked that he also imitates his virtues. A good illustration of practical Christianity was given by the Young Men’s Christian Association at Tuskegee, in building, last year, a little house for an old colored woman. A colored teacher paid the cost of the lumber, and the young men gave the labor. They are planning more work of this kind. One interesting case of Negro generosity shows the reverses of fortune which followed emancipation. An ex-slave in Louisiana bought a farm, paid for it, and became

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prosperous. Not long after his old master came to him in a state of destitution. The Negro took him in, kept him for a week, and gave him a suit of clothes on his departure. Under slavery the Negroes were not organized, except in churches. The organic spirit must have time for growth. Cooperation has made no great headway. In various States and counties the Farmers’ Alliance is attracting attention, many of the Negroes hoping to ﬁnd relief through it from the bondage of the mortgage system. Small stock companies for various purposes exist in a number of cities. A little has been done in the way of building associations. There is one at Atlanta, with branches and local boards elsewhere; others at Tuskegee, Montgomery, Selma, Baltimore, and Washington. In Baltimore there are three or four such associations, but the German organizations, managed by white people, have had much more of their patronage. A daily paper of Charlotte, North Carolina, in speaking of the loan associations there, said that the colored shareholders were outstripping the white. It was noticeable that they paid more promptly. A penny savings bank, chartered under state law, was organized at Chattanooga about ten months ago. It has already one thousand depositors, the amounts ranging from two cents to one thousand dollars. The white as well as the colored children are being educated to save by this bank. In Birmingham, a similar institution was opened last October, and has about three thousand depositors. A school savings bank or postal savings bank system, as recommended by the Mohonk Negro conference, would be of great beneﬁt to the colored people. A full report of what the colored man is doing for himself within the old slave States can be given only when the census reports are elaborated, or when such a thorough record of his progress is made in every State as Dr. Jeffrey A. Brackett has made for the State of Maryland. All that has been attempted in this article is to give such indications and evidence as can readily be obtained by one who travels through the South, on this mission, with his eyes and ears open. To sum up, then, the facts which show what the Negro is doing for himself, it is clear that the new generation of Afric-Americans is animated by a progressive spirit. They are raising and following their own leaders. They are rapidly copying the organic, industrial, and administrative features of white society. They have discovered that industrial redemption is not to be found in legislative and political measures. In spite of oppressive usury and extortion, the colored man is buying farms, building homes, accumulating property, establishing himself in trade, learning the mechanic arts, devising inventions, and entering the professions. Education he sees to be the pathway to prosperity, and is making immense sacriﬁces to secure it. He is passing into the higher stages of social evolution. In religion the ‘‘old-timer’’ is giving way to the educated preacher. Religion is becoming more ethical. The colored people are doing much to take care of their own unfortunate classes. The cooperative spirit is slowly spreading through trades unions, building associations, and benevolent guilds. In no way is the colored man doing more for himself than by silently and steadily developing a sense of self-respect, new capacity for self-support, and a pride in his race, which more than anything else secure for him the respect and fraternal feeling of his white neighbors. Samuel J. Barrows. Source: Boston: The Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 67, pp. 805–815, June, 1891. Copyright C 1999, by the Rector and Visitors of the University of Virginia. Courtesy of The University of Virginia Library.

47. In memoriam: Sarah Partridge Spofford

47. In memoriam: Sarah Partridge Spofford: born November 10, 1823, departed May 11, 1892, Substance of address by Rev. R. R. Shippen at the funeral service, May 13, 1892 The following eulogy and poetry memorialized Sarah Partridge Spofford, the wife of Ainsworth Rand Spofford, the Librarian of Congress, and Daniel A. P. Murray’s patron. Murray was a staff member of the Library of Congress in 1871 and an authority on African-American materials at the Library. He was also a proliﬁc author. The Blessed Memory Of Sarah Partridge Spofford abides in the hearts of her relatives and friends. Single-hearted and self-reliant from childhood, she was a rare example of a reﬁned and amiable nature, combined with marked independence of character. Her perceptions were intuitively keen, her sense of justice unerring, her loyalty to duty and to friendship never failing. To a most delicate and sensitive physical organization she united an intellectual strength, a power of will, and a persistent endurance, which were the admiration of all who knew her. Although long a martyr to bodily inﬁrmity in some form, suffering during the ﬁrst half of her life from distressing head-aches, and for the latter half from a bronchial malady which proved incurable, she bore all with a patience, a courage, and a constancy which kept her always cheerful and uncomplaining. Her useful and devoted life was dedicated to good of others—always forgetful of herself, ever thoughtful of her family and friends. Her last days were not darkened by long or painful illness. Only eight days after she took to her bed, her pure spirit was released. The death-angel came swiftly, and spared her that which she most dreaded—a slow, lingering, suffering decline. She was conscious and cheerful until half and hour before the close, when she appeared to fall into a deep sleep, broken only by the difﬁcult breathing which betokened the rapid progress of pneumonia. To those who mourn the loss of one of the purest souls which the earth held, her life of fortitude and resignation remains a precious example. In the words of one of the best of women, who knew and loved her—‘‘She was so wise, so true, so good, so noble, we shall always think of her as one of the saints—the most precious of the saints.’’ To her who never, in word or thought, praised herself, it may matter little what tribute of gratitude or praise her memory wins from others. But to those who knew the sweetness and the strength of her nature, and the virtues that shone in her daily life, no words can adequately express the love and admiration which her gentle character inspired. On a beautiful afternoon in May a simple memorial service was held at her late residence, which was wholly ﬁlled by her friends, sincere mourners at her departure from the world. Robed in white and garlanded with pure and fragrant ﬂowers brought by loving hands, she seemed to lie in a tranquil and pleasant sleep. As the procession moved to the suburban cemetery of Rock Creek, she was borne to rest amid arching trees in the green foliage of spring, while a ﬂood of sunlight poured its gentle beams on the white marble tomb. After selections from Scripture: ‘‘In addition to these words of Holy Writ for our instruction and consolation, let me read to you these lines by Mrs. Stowe: Still, still with Thee, O God,when morning breaketh, When the bird waketh,and the shadows ﬂee;

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Fairer than morning, lovelier than the daylight, Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee. ******** When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber, Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer; Sweet the repose beneath thy wings o’ershading, But sweeter still to wake and ﬁnd Thee there. So shall it be at last in that bright morning, When the soul waketh, and life’s shadows ﬂee; Oh, in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning, Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee. ‘‘Also these words of Whittier: God giveth quietness at last! The common way once more is passed From pleading tears and lingerings fond, To fuller life and love beyond. Fold the rapt soul in your embrace, Dear ones familiar with the place! While to the gentle greetings there We answer here with murmured prayer. What to shut eyes hath God revealed? What hear the ears that death has sealed? What undreamed beauty passing show Requites the loss of all we know? O, silent land to which we move! Enough if there alone be love. And mortal need can ne’er outgrow What it is waiting to bestow! O, pure soul! from that far off shore Float some sweet song the waters o’er; Our faith conﬁrm, our fears dispel, With the dear voice we loved so well! ‘‘Sweetly our dear friend seems to sleep. After life’s weariness she is at rest and in peace. So God giveth to his beloved sleep. She has exchanged the limitations of time and sense for the fuller freedom and larger life beyond. We linger amid the shadows of mortality and walk in the dark valley. Not for her, but for ourselves we need to pray. ‘‘We would not indulge in vain eulogy. She herself would forbid it. The best words at the preacher’s command would indeed seem inadequate to the thought of those who knew and loved her. Not for her sake, but for our own, it is well to take to heart the lesson of her life. In the relations of home, of church, and of society she was loyal, sweet, and true. Borne up by a devout religious faith, to it she bore her full testimony and witnessed a good confession.

47. In memoriam: Sarah Partridge Spofford

‘‘I always love to think of the sweet ﬂowers we lay upon the casket as speaking not only of our mortality—fading as the ﬂower, here to-day and gone to-morrow— but repeating for us Jesus’ lesson of the lily; of the Heavenly Father’s unfailing love and care, and reminding us that He who from the ice and desolation of the winter time brings the fresh spring bloom, can from the seeming death of the grave bring the souls of his children into new life in His nearer presence, in a home of larger love, and a garden of unfading ﬂowers. ‘‘The event that brings us hither draws all hearts tenderly together. Opinions that separate are superﬁcial. The deep experiences of life and death bring us face to face with the great spiritual qualities that summon profoundest faith. Would that our faith in Jesus might give us the faith of Jesus in the immortal hope and the goodness of God. Besides his words of duty and brotherhood, these are the two primal and grand faiths of His gospel: that in the House of many Mansions the world beyond is real and sure, and we are in the keeping of a good Father who doeth all things well, our best Friend forever. ‘‘Not by multitude of deeds, but by high quality of life, we best serve God and man. In brief ministry Jesus manifested the divine quality of character that is transforming the world. With ﬁdelity and sweetness our dear friend completed her work and ﬁnished her course. As tenderly we say farewell, let it be with devout gratitude for memories unspeakably fragrant and precious.’’ Dr. E. M. Gallaudet read, with deep feeling, this selection from the ‘‘Elegiac Stanzas’’ of Wordsworth: O, for a dirge! But why complain? Ask rather a triumphal strain When virtue’s race is run; A garland of immortal boughs To bind around the Christian’s brows, Whose glorious work is done. We pay a high and holy debt; No tears of passionate regret Shall stain this votive lay; Ill-worthy, brothers, were the grief That ﬂings itself on wild relief, When Saints have passed away. Was ever Spirit that could bend So graciously?-that could descend, Another’s need to suit, So promptly from her lofty throne? In works of love, in these alone, How restless, how minute! Then hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things; Her quiet is secure; No thorns can pierce her tender feet, Whose life was, like the violet, sweet, As climbing jasmine, pure. Thou takest not away, O Death!

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Thou strik’st—and absence perisheth, Indifference is no more; The future brightens on our sight; For on the past hath fallen a light That tempts us to adore. Source: Washington, D.C.: s.n., 1892. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

48. A Noble Life: Memorial Souvenir of Rev. Jos. C. Price, D.D, 1894 GEORGE C. ROWE CLINTON George C. Rowe Clinton, an African American minister, wrote this speech in the form of a poem for Joseph C. Price, deceased president of Livingstone College in Salisbury, North Carolina. A star arose at close of night: ‘tis dark before the dawn; A brilliant star, a righteous light, Foretoken of the morn— The day when the oppressor’s hand Should palsied be throughout the land. A man of inﬂuence and power, Who laid himself with grace, Upon the altar of his God, An offering for his race. E’er prodigal of strength and thought, And from his race withholding nought. He cried: ‘‘If I’d a thousand tongues, And each a thunderbolt; I’d turn them on in mighty power, Like an electric volt; I’d send them forth with lightning pace— To help and elevate my race! With purpose ﬁrm he lived his creed, And toiled with might and main, Each day more clearly saw the need— Despising worldly gain— He counted not his life too dear To spend in raising mortals here. The manly form now prostrate lies; The ﬂashing eye is dim; The hand oft raised for principle, Touched by the monster grim,

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Is laid upon the quiet breast, The life-work ﬁnished—entered rest. The tongue of ﬁre is silent now; The loving heart is still; The mind surcharged with burning thought, Yet loyal to God’s will— Has ceased to plan for mortals here, Is active in another sphere. A sense of loss our hearts shall feel: Hushed is the sweet voice now; While we shall miss his thrilling words. To God we humbly bow; And thank Him for the sacriﬁce So freely made by Joseph Price. His task on earth was ﬁnished soon; Life’s battle nobly won. He rests from labor ere the noon, His life race fully run. He watches still the conﬂict here, And perfect love has cast out fear. He is not dead; but gone to join The host from care set free! He is not dead; his spirit lives Where joys immortal be! Where noble souls are victors crowned; Where perfect love at last is found. Now gloriﬁed amid the host, Whose names in honor stand; Phillips and Garnet, Garrison, And all that noble band— Lincoln and Sumner—heroes brave, Who sought to free and help the slave. Yes, there within the pearly gates, They wait for you and me; Those men who planned that from the curse Our people might be free; Rejoicing in the broadening day When shadows dark should ﬂee away. Our hero was a patriot true, A messenger of truth: Whose words of faith and hope rang out Inspiring age and youth. His life will inspiration give— Through coming time his inﬂuence live! Rest in peace, beloved brother, Holy inﬂuence will not cease;

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Memory of the just is blessed— Rest in peace, then, rest in peace! —G.C.R. Source: Charleston, S.C.: s.n., 1894. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A. P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

49. Light beyond the Darkness, 189-(?) FRANCES E. W. HARPER As a freed African American woman from Baltimore, Frances E.W. Harper expressed belief in racial cooperation and harmony through her poetry. She refuted the call for black revenge against white society. From the peaceful heights of a higher life I heard your maddening cry of strife; It quivered with anguish, wrath and pain, Like a demon struggling with his chain. A chain of evil, heavy and strong, Rusted with ages of fearful wrong. Encrusted with blood and burning tears. The chain I had worn and dragged for years. It clasped my limbs, but it bound your heart. And formed of your life a fearful part; You sowed the wind, but could not control The tempest wild of a guilty soul. You saw me stand with my broken chain Forged in the furnace of ﬁery pain. You saw my children around me stand Lovingly clasping my unbound hand. But you remembered my blood and tears ‘mid the weary wasting ﬂight of years. You thought of the rice swamps, lone and dank, When my heart in hopless anguish sank. You thought of your ﬁelds with harvest white, Where I toiled in pain from morn till night; You thought of the days you bought and sold The children I loved, for paltry gold. You thought of our shrieks that rent the airOur moans of anguish and deep despair; With chattering teeth and paling face, You thought of your nation’s deep disgrace. You wove from your fears a fearful fate To spring from your seeds of scorn and hate;

49. Light beyond the Darkness, 189-(?) 273

You imagined the saddest, wildest thing, That time, with revenges ﬁerce, could bring The cry you thought from a Voodoo breast Was the echo of your soul’s unrest; When thoughts too sad for fruitless tears Loomed like the ghosts of avenging years. Oh prophet of evil, could not your voice In our new hopes and freedom rejoice? ‘mid the light which streams around our way Was there naught to see but an evil day? Nothing but vengeance, wrath and hate, And the serpent coils of an evil fateA fate that shall crush and drag you down; A doom that shall press like an iron crown? A fate that shall crisp and curl your hair And darken your faces now so fair, And send through your veins like a poisoned ﬂood The hated stream of the Negro’s blood? A fate to madden the heart and brain You’ve peopled with phantoms of dread and pain, And fancies wild of your daughter’s shriek With Congo kisses upon her cheek? Beyond the mist of your gloomy fears, I see the promise of brighter years. Through the dark I see their golden hem And my heart gives out its glad amen. The banner of Christ was your sacred trust, But you trailed that banner in the dust, And mockingly told us amid our pain The hand of your God had forged our chain. We stumbled and groped through the dreary night Till our ﬁngers touched God’s robe of light; And we knew He heard, from his lofty throne, Our saddest cries and faintest moan. The cross you have covered with sin and shame We’ll bear aloft in Christ’s holy name. Oh, never again may its folds be furled While sorrow and sin enshroud our world! God, to whose ﬁngers thrills each heart beat, Has not sent us to walk with aimless feet, To cover and crouch, with bated breath From margins of life to shores of death. Higher and better than hate for hate, Like the scorpion fangs that desolate, Is the hope of a brighter, fairer morn And a peace and a love that shall yet be born;

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When the Negro shall hold an honored place, The friend and helper of every race; His mission to build and not destroy. And gladden the world with love and joy. Source: Chicago: Donohue and Henneberry, 189-?. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

50. Excerpted from Afro-American encyclopedia, or, the thoughts, doings, and sayings of the race: embracing addresses, lectures, biographical sketches, sermons, poems, names of universities, colleges, seminaries, newspapers, books, and a history of the denominations, giving the numerical strength of each. In fact, it teaches every subject of interest to the colored people, as discussed by more than one hundred of their wisest and best men and women, 1895 COMPILED AND ARRANGED BY JAMES T. HALEY This is a proﬁle of Bishop Henry Turner, a leader of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, one of the most inﬂuential African American religious organizations. Bishop Henry M. Turner of the A.M.E. Church, who has stood for many years as one of the foremost representatives of the negro race in this country, has attracted attention of late by his advocacy of the return of the black man to his native land. His published views on this subject have been extensively discussed, and because of the bishop’s prominence and his reputation as a student of the Afro-American problem, have had great weight attached to them. The bishop is himself an interesting personality. He was born in Newberry, S. C., in 1834. His parents were free, but while a boy he was ‘‘bound out’’ to a slave owner and worked side by side with slaves in the ﬁelds until his ﬁfteenth year. Then, tiring of the hard labor and ill treatment, and with restless longings for something higher than the farm hand’s fate, he ran away from his master and entered the service of a ﬁrm of attorneys in Abberville, S. C., where John C. Calhoun once practiced law. His employers, attracted by his aptitude, especially in spelling, taught him the elementary English branches, and in the intervals of his duties as ofﬁce boy he read law, often pouring over his books late at night, when his ‘‘bosses’’ had gone home. At twenty years of age young Turner became a liscensed minister of the M. E. Church, South. After a few years of itinerant service, during which his fame as an eloquent preacher spread through the surrounding country, he determined to go to Africa as a missionary. About the same time he transferred his allegiance to the A. M. E. Church, and entered Trinity College, in Baltimore, where he studied for four years, completing the courses in divinity, Latin, Greek and Hebrew. Source: Nashville, Tenn.: Haley & Florida, 1895. Documenting the American South, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 2000. Electronic edition available at: http://docsouth.unc.edu/ church/haley/haley.html.

51. Sermon preached by Rev. G. V. Clark 275

51. Sermon preached by Rev. G. V. Clark, at Second Congregational Church, Memphis, Tenn., Sunday morning June 16, 1895 Rev. Clark, pastor of the Second Congregational Church in Memphis, Tennessee, in the late 1890s, delivered a stirring reminder to his congregation that God’s plan, not man’s, was the most important rule in their lives. By illustrating ambition for the Lord’s work, Clark argued, African Americans could overcome the inherent discrimination of post—Civil War America. This notion by Clark was very much in line with the position of Booker T. Washington. Clark’s church, founded in 1868, is was one of the most famous African American churches in the South; its afﬁliation with LeMoyne-Owen College made Clark quite inﬂuential with black students during the turn of the century. There is a noble ambition in every successful individual or race. Some one has said, ‘‘I am charged with ambition. The charge is true and I glory in its truth. Let that ambition be a noble one and who shall blame it.’’ Rev. G. V. Clark ‘‘I set before you an open door, and no man can shut it.’’—Rev. iii. 8. The application of the truth in the text was to the church in Philadelphia, in Asia Minor. Then to all the Christian world. The door opened is emblematic of the opportunities presented to the church. In other words, it was a setting before the church her mission—henceforward the church would not be so handicapped as before. Oppositions, such as had proved an obstacle before, would cease; unbelief would not be so stubborn and unreasonable; the gospel and its messengers would have easier access to the world, Jews and Gentiles. We notice, too, that the opening is by Christ, the great head of the church. Behind the church is his authority. None can, therefore, resist successfully her authority, nor question with propriety her right to teach truth. The principles to be promulgated are two, namely: Love to God supremely, and to our neighbors as ourselves. The latter command, however, seems to be regarded by men and races after they have reached the zenith of power, as antiquated and abrogated. It is neither antiquated nor abrogated, I boldly declare. The declaration of all the world to the contrary, rich or poor, high or low, of whatever race, country or nationality, do not alter the fact. Putting this truth in a little different form, Christ said, ‘‘They that are strong ought to bear the inﬁrmities of the weak.’’ This the Lord means his church shall do, and if she does not do this, for this is a cardinal principle of practical Christianity, then I think he will set aside the church in her present form, purifying her, and bring her forth clad in new, cleaner garments. It is a burning shame that herein her robes are verily stained with guilt. This idea of helpfulness to the weaker is not to be understood as of limited application, but of universal force. A principle binding alike on church and state. It is intended to be placed as a foundation stone for governmental, as well as ecclesiastical righteousness and equity. Moreover, the divine blessing invariably attends the efforts of that people who make it the rule of their lives, and the theme of their discussion, and the object of their every endeavor to do unto others just as they wish to be done by. Christ calls this the fulﬁllment of the royal law. Creeds, nationality,

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learning, sciences, philosophy, splendidly equipped armies and navies, with power to successfully resist the invasions of all foes, by wading in their blood, all sink into insigniﬁcance when compared with this great and all important principle. All else is worthless in the sight of God when this is wanting. The open door, or opportunities, presented the church of Christ, in the text, carries with it great responsibilities. There is no work necessary to the highest development of the race, or the purity and happiness of mankind that is not here offered through the church, a mission, higher in degree and broader in extent than was ever committed to mortals before. The length, breadth, height and magnitude of this trust hath not yet been fully comprehended, I fear, by even the wisest and best of men. This is due, in part, to inherited prejudices infused into the Christian life, and part, also, from environment. If once the church gets a clear understanding and a just conception of her high calling, much, if not all, that now obstructs her entrance into that ‘‘open door’’ will vanish as mist before the rising sun. To this end I join the poet who said: ‘‘To her my tears shall fall, To her my prayers ascend, To her my cares and toils be given, Till toils and cares shall end.’’ In this commission the church is to know no race distinction nor condition, but to preach Christ to both Jew and Gentile, bond and free, African and Caucasian, rich and poor, ignorant and learned, all, as equally under necessity to repent and believe in order to receive salvation. To preach is not sufﬁcient, as practice speaks much louder than words. Sectarianism, the caste spirit and the like are blots on the escutcheon of Christians, by whomsoever practiced. It must be renounced and denounced, else the grand opportunity offered by the ‘‘open door’’ will be closed and barred eternally. It was not until Peter had his house-top vision, and the church held her ﬁrst council at Jerusalem, did the meanness and exclusiveness of caste and race antagonism appear to these primitive saints. This was an excrescence produced and made to develop on the body of Christ’s bride, the church, by the blind hate and racial exclusiveness among the ﬁrst followers of Christ. As in those days, this evil, with others, hindered the church and caused the rejection of many churches by the Lord, so will it continue to do to races and religions who refuse to practice this spirit as required by Christ, the author of our religion. Thus I have given you some thoughts on the primary application of this Scripture teaching. I desire now to call attention to a secondary consideration in this connection. There is a warning which comes to us, of this most enlightened age of the world’s history, in the rise of four of the greatest nations known to the world, namely: the Greeks, Romans, Hebrews and Anglo-Saxons. Let us consider each in the order mentioned. I assume to begin with that God had a mission of a far-reaching purpose in bringing each of these races into historical notice. That mission I believe was to glorify and serve God. I can conceive no divine purpose in raising up a nation which does not have for its object the purest, most perfect obedience and service of which that people is capable. We know the Greeks were once the foremost race of antiquity, successful alike on the ﬁeld of battle and in the sphere of arts and letters. Their skill as sculptors stands unsurpassed by any race of past ages. They left to the world monuments of their genius and high achievements, showing their

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exquisiteness of touch and delicacy of taste. The literary quality of their writings and public addresses show a very advanced stage of scholarship. Their poetry will never cease to be the wonder, and claim the admiration of the literary world. Their philosophers are acknowledged by the great men of this age, who are esteemed as learned, as master minds. To say all this is but to proclaim the Greeks a highly intellectual, artistic people. This is but the verdict of many centuries. It would be but partial praise to say all I have in their behalf and fail to say that they were great educators. When carried as captives from their native land as prisoners of war it was a most common thing for them to be brought as tutors in royal palaces, and among the nobility. This was a result of an eagerness always to learn something new. In war they were aggressive, heroic and skillful. Their language as a vehicle of communication is most admirable in lucidity and laconicalness. In all of this you readily see what the Greeks gave the world showing their mental possibilities. But there is one more thing to mention which shows the spirit of a great race. It is that they were possessed of love of personal liberty. No encroachment upon this sacred ground was ever allowed to the state by them. Their idea of government was that the state existed for the individual and not the individual for good of the state. Having said so much, all of which is true, one may ask why they were not retained and perpetuated. Great warriors, artists, scholars and lovers of individual liberty in a race, are not the chief element to qualify a race or individual for permanence of existence before God. They were lacking in the ﬁrst and chief essential. God is seeking an ideal people. The Greeks were not that people. Had they religion? The answer is yes. The Apostle Paul declared they were too religious. Gods were more easily found among Athenians than men. Their religion, like all paganism, proved more degrading than elevating. The relation between Jehovah and man was served by the nation rejecting him for carnal things called gods. More still, the relation between man and man was predominated by a debasing, sensual gratiﬁcation which destroyed all their noble aspirations. Having reached, therefore, the summit of their glory in material and intellectual achievements, and declining more and more rapidly, at the same time, in morality and spiritual discernment, God wrote on the walls of the nation’s hall of revelry, ‘‘Thou art weighed in the balances and found wanting.’’ Thus their doom came. They achieved greatness in everything but one, and that was true godliness. No nation can be truly great without it. The door that was once opened to them ﬁnally closed and that forever. The Romans we next notice before the ‘‘open door’’ of opportunities. Through many vicissitudes this great race passed from a mere clannish state on up into a monarchy, and the world’s ﬁrst great republic. From ﬁrst to last, however, they were doomed to utter extinction because, mainly, they fell short of the divine ideal of greatness. The Romans possessed, notwithstanding, many noble traits or qualities necessary to produce greatness. They surpassed the Greeks in some respects while they fell behind them in some others. While the former exalted culture, the latter put stress upon unity and order. By diplomacy they succeeded in forming helpful alliances such as afforded them great advantages in times of war. Under her splendidly equipped armies, on sea and land, she became the mistress of the world. The Greeks with all their greatness became subject to Rome. The zenith of her glory was reached about the transition period from a republic to a monarchy. From that time, owing to her vanity and vices, she steadily declined. Before, however, her downfall came she was allowed to contribute something substantial to the world’s progress. I mention such as her arts, sculpture, massive architecture, royal highways, a

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magniﬁcently organized government, matchless orators and statesmen, and a language both exquisite and expressive. By means of these the world is in advance of what it was prior to the rise of the Romans into power and supremacy over the world. For hundreds of years she wielded the scepter. And, mark you, I believe under the controlling hand of God, great blessings to mankind have resulted from the contributions of this race. Their greatness none can dispute. But for one needful indispensable virtue, which Rome lacked, she might to-day still be in the ascendency among nations. This falling short was that they failed to have, as a nation, the religion requiring supreme love to God, and love for ‘‘our neighbors as ourselves.’’ On every other achievement without love as the chief element, was written, ‘‘weighed and found wanting.’’ This is the central thought in the divine mind and must be with nations. The displacement of this ruling people was an act of God rather than the superior forces of enemies. For the crime of ungodliness Rome, like Greece, was set aside. She failed to enter the ‘‘open door.’’ Their love of country, learning and the domestic relation could not save them from ruin. Let us take another highly favored race for our consideration. These people were more than any other blessed of God. I refer to the Hebrews, the descendants of Abraham. If God could be charged with partiality because he seemed kinder and more considerate of one race than another, it would be because of His great patience and love for Israel. The story of how the race began and developed under Divine providence is fully known to all. Sacred and secular history have most fully recorded the facts. There was doubtless a far reaching purpose in the mind of God in thus blessing and forbearing with his chosen yet most rebellious children. That purpose I conceive to be to raise up if possible an ideal race. It seemed at times that God would in them accomplish greater results than in any other race. He came nearer exhausting his goodness in helping this nation than with any other. They sprung from faithful Abraham, developed in their government, into families, tribes and ultimately a nation. In it all was the hand of God revealed. Now as to results. They were a means of direct communication from God to the world. The best code of laws, many of the most beautiful characters of men, women, and ﬁnally the world’s Redeemer came of that race. To them, as to no other, we are indebted through God for that book, the Bible. It is at once unique, instructive and the only authorized record of God, Christ and the future state, good and bad. The oracles of God were committed to these people to be transmitted to the world. This old world is a better one because they lived and wrought. But like Greece and Rome they were found wanting. Having been elevated to the highest distinction they doomed themselves to a mighty fall. The same old charge of, ‘‘I have somewhat against thee,’’ was laid at their door. That old sentence, ‘‘thou art weighed in the balances and found wanting’’ was written on the nation’s walls. This, however, was not done until they had many times been warned and entreated to repent. God ﬁnished in and with them his work just so far as they were willing. The door swung open before them for 2,500 years. They were free to enter and were plead with to enter. Their ﬁnal opportunity came. The chances are forever gone now. As a nation, they are without a country, shepherds without sheep. You say their downfall was due to their rejection of Christ, but I say to you the cruciﬁxion of the Messiah was but the culmination of an evil heart of centuries of growth. Yea, it was as much a breaking of the Golden Rule, the sin against their fellowman, as a sin against God. In the fall of Jerusalem the national crash came.

51. Sermon preached by Rev. G. V. Clark 279

Take still another race, now on trial. I name to you the Anglo-Saxons. In the unfolding of the divine will and providence, as manifested in rearing up of nations, this race comes into history with great promise of permanency. They seem to possess more great qualities than any other hitherto noticed. It is a race of great energy, intelligence, virtue, and courage. The great men and women of the race that adorn the pages of history with a halo of glory exceed all others. From this race have sprung great poets, artists, statesmen, warriors, scholars, reformers, geniuses, philanthropists and devout Christians. Such a race is destined, under God, to a great future. Their foundation is extensive and ﬁrm. But one thing, however, can cause their downfall. That one thing, too, seems now to threaten the overthrow, namely, the sin against man, especially the weaker brother. Around this class of human beings God seems to desire to throw protection and encouragement. Diametrically opposed to this (herein is the Golden Rule summed up) is the declaration of the Anglo-Saxons to the effect that all races in the way of their civilization must go to the wall. That means a merciless declaration of war on others. This spirit, let them remember, is irreconcilably at war with the very spirit and genius of Christianity. This spirit and genius are to bring back man to his Creator. That race that is in harmony with this principle grasps in one hand the Almighty, and in the other humanity. Thus there is an uplifting through ﬁrst and second causes. The great danger to this race lies in its prosperity and supremacy over the weaker races. When they forget that all they are, or might be, is due to divine favor only, and it seems they are forgetting in the United States, then will come the beginning of the end. If the advantages enjoyed by them but be ascribed to God’s blessing, and used to promote his glory and the welfare of his little ones, the Anglo-Saxons will perpetuate their own supremacy and reﬂect glory upon the name of the God of nations. The failure to deal justly by their brethren will as surely send them into oblivion as that night follows day. The sentence against them in that event will be, ‘‘Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these ye did it not to me.’’ These shall go away to everlasting punishment. The door of opportunity is open before this race. The most honored and blessed of God are such as not only honor him, but who serve their fellowmen best. What a high trust is here committed! The race seems, however, to be committed ﬁrmly to their boasted pride and arrogance, regardless of the warning which the fate of the Greeks, Romans and Hebrews experienced will afford. Has this race of blood and cruelty reached the pinnacle of its glory? Is it in a state of sure, imperceptible decline? Have we reached the beginning of a disgraceful end in the history of this hitherto greatest race known to historians? Should this be the case, then what? I answer, as one of them, it appears to me that the Divine purpose is to place the colored American on trial, as he has the races referred to, and is now doing with the above named race. There are some distinguishing characteristics of this, my race, which if called of God, into the service of mankind, will put a distinctive stamp upon history never before made prominent. These characteristics are: docility, patience under adversity, as shown under American slavery, musical, imaginative, imitative, great endurance in toil, forgiving, lovers of domestic life, religious. The race, moreover, is unequalled in natural oratory. Such a race must have a future. It is barely possible that the Divine purpose in permitting American slavery was to raise up on this continent a future people, who, catching all that is good of

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Anglo-Saxon civilization, and by the use of his imitative genius, assimilate it with his own native qualities, and so produce the ideal race which God is seeking. Certain it is that while none can prove this position as the true one, yet none can disapprove it. All I mean is that it is possible. The door is open before us. By the righteous use of the endowments which the race possesses, recognizing them as from God, a civilization distinctively our own will be the country’s blessing and salvation. The world, too, will feel a quickening impulse from such a leavening inﬂuence. I realize that the American colored man is without a past, such as is the boast of Anglo-Saxons. There was a time when no race was any better off than we are. They had to begin. So must we make a beginning. All contemporary races have a bloody record to confront them. The colored race is to make its conquests with a sheathed sword. This is an age wherein the peace man, as did the Lord Jesus Christ, is to contend against sin and error with righteousness and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Therefore that race which approaches most nearly the divine ideal will endure longest and accomplish most for the world’s highest welfare. The crown is not to the most intellectual or warlike domineering race, but to the one serving God and man best. Now, I would not have any race serve God less, but I would have my own serve him best. A failure to do this cannot be substituted by one nor all other noble qualities. A holy competition for the Divine favor and honor will greatly accelerate the speed of the race in striving for the goal. Mark you, hearer, that every other nation yet fully tried has been rejected of God, not for what they were but for what they were not. Each one contributed something to mankind’s betterment, but so far as they were concerned it all meant nothing. Greece gave the world culture; Rome, law and order; the Hebrews, revelation and the Savior; the Anglo-Saxon, science, social order and the most advanced civilization. It is left to some race to yet give that best obedience which God requires, namely; give supremacy to God in head and heart and to place our neighbors deep down in the citadel of our heart or affections. I would therefore appeal to the colored American to let the zeal of God and an impartial love for our fellowmen, of all races and conditions, friends and foes, be the all-absorbing passion of daily life. If you really love your race, if you would have it stand on the very summit of the world’s elevation, if you would have it without a peer or parallel in the galaxy of the greatest of nations, then let this love for both Divine and human burn on the altar of your heart. With such God is most well pleased. Therefore, seize the opportunity and save the race from degradation and irrevocable ruin. Such is the burden of my heart. Source: Afro-American encyclopedia, or, the thoughts, doings, and sayings of the race:embracing addresses, lectures, biographical sketches, sermons, poems, names of universities, colleges, seminaries, newspapers, books, and a history of the denominations, giving the numerical strength of each. In fact, it teaches every subject of interest to the colored people, as discussed by more than one hundred of their wisest and best men and women. Compiled and arranged by James T. Haley. Nashville, Tenn.: Haley & Florida, 1895. Documenting the American South, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 2000. Electronic edition available at: http://docsouth.unc.edu/church/haley/haley.html.

52. The Atlanta Compromise, 1895 281

52. The Atlanta Compromise, 1895 BOOKER T. WASHINGTON Booker T. Washington (April 5, 1856 to November 14, 1915) was an inﬂuential political leader, educator, and author whose autobiography, Up From Slavery, remains widely read. This is an address Washington gave to a predominantly white audience at the Cotton States and International Exposition in Atlanta, Georgia, on September 18, 1895. Mr. President and Gentlemen of the Board of Directors and Citizens: One-third of the population of the South is of the Negro race. No enterprise seeking the material, civil, or moral welfare of this section can disregard this element of our population and reach the highest success. I but convey to you, Mr. President and Directors, the sentiment of the masses of my race when I say that in no way have the value and manhood of the American Negro been more ﬁttingly and generously recognized than by the managers of this magniﬁcent Exposition at every stage of its progress. It is a recognition that will do more to cement the friendship of the two races than any occurrence since the dawn of our freedom. Not only this, but the opportunity here afforded will awaken among us a new era of industrial progress. Ignorant and inexperienced, it is not strange that in the ﬁrst years of our new life we began at the top instead of at the bottom; that a seat in Congress or the state legislature was more sought than real estate or industrial skill; that the political convention or stump speaking had more attractions than starting a dairy farm or truck garden. A ship lost at sea for many days suddenly sighted a friendly vessel. From the mast of the unfortunate vessel was seen a signal, ‘‘Water, water; we die of thirst!’’ The answer from the friendly vessel at once came back, ‘‘Cast down your bucket where you are.’’ A second time the signal, ‘‘Water, water; send us water!’’ ran up from the distressed vessel, and was answered, ‘‘Cast down your bucket where you are.’’ And a third and fourth signal for water was answered, ‘‘Cast down your bucket where you are.’’ The captain of the distressed vessel, at last heeding the injunction, cast down his bucket, and it came up full of fresh, sparkling water from the mouth of the Amazon River. To those of my race who depend on bettering their condition in a foreign land or who underestimate the importance of cultivating friendly relations with the Southern white man, who is their next-door neighbor, I would say: ‘‘Cast down your bucket where you are’’—cast it down in making friends in every manly way of the people of all races by whom we are surrounded. Cast it down in agriculture, in mechanics, in commerce, in domestic service, and in the professions. And in this connection it is well to bear in mind that whatever other sins the South may be called to bear, when it comes to business, pure and simple, it is in the South that the Negro is given a man’s chance in the commercial world, and in nothing is this Exposition more eloquent than in emphasizing this chance. Our greatest danger is that in the great leap from slavery to freedom we may overlook the fact that the masses of us are to live by the productions of our hands, and fail to keep in mind that we shall prosper in proportion as we learn to dignify and glorify common labor, and put brains and skill into the common occupations of life; shall prosper in proportion as we learn to draw the line between the

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superﬁcial and the substantial, the ornamental gewgaws of life and the useful. No race can prosper till it learns that there is as much dignity in tilling a ﬁeld as in writing a poem. It is at the bottom of life we must begin, and not at the top. Nor should we permit our grievances to overshadow our opportunities. To those of the white race who look to the incoming of those of foreign birth and strange tongue and habits for the prosperity of the South, were I permitted I would repeat what I say to my own race, ‘‘Cast down your bucket where you are.’’ Cast it down among the eight millions of Negroes whose habits you know, whose ﬁdelity and love you have tested in days when to have proved treacherous meant the ruin of your ﬁresides. Cast down your bucket among these people who have, without strikes and labor wars, tilled your ﬁelds, cleared your forests, built your railroads and cities, and brought forth treasures from the bowels of the earth, and helped make possible this magniﬁcent representation of the progress of the South. Casting down your bucket among my people, helping and encouraging them as you are doing on these grounds, and to education of head, hand, and heart, you will ﬁnd that they will buy your surplus land, make blossom the waste places in your ﬁelds, and run your factories. While doing this, you can be sure in the future, as in the past, that you and your families will be surrounded by the most patient, faithful, law-abiding, and unresentful people that the world has seen. As we have proved our loyalty to you in the past, in nursing your children, watching by the sick-bed of your mothers and fathers, and often following them with tear-dimmed eyes to their graves, so in the future, in our humble way, we shall stand by you with a devotion that no foreigner can approach, ready to lay down our lives, if need be, in defense of yours, interlacing our industrial, commercial, civil, and religious life with yours in a way that shall make the interests of both races one. In all things that are purely social, we can be as separate as the ﬁngers, yet one as the hand in all things essential to mutual progress. There is no defense or security for any of us except in the highest intelligence and development of all. If anywhere there are efforts tending to curtail the fullest growth of the Negro, let these efforts be turned into stimulating, encouraging, and making him the most useful and intelligent citizen. Effort or means so invested will pay a thousand percent interest. These efforts will be twice blessed—blessing him that gives and him that takes. There is no escape through law of man or God from the inevitable: The laws of changeless justice bind Oppressor with oppressed; And close as sin and suffering joined We march to fate abreast. Nearly sixteen millions of hands will aid you in pulling the load upward, or they will pull against you the load downward. We shall constitute one-third and more of the ignorance and crime of the South, or one-third its intelligence and progress; we shall contribute one-third to the business and industrial prosperity of the South, or we shall prove a veritable body of death, stagnating, depressing, retarding every effort to advance the body politic. Gentlemen of the Exposition, as we present to you our humble effort at an exhibition of our progress, you must not expect overmuch. Starting thirty years ago with ownership here and there in a few quilts and pumpkins and chickens (gathered from miscellaneous sources), remember the path that has led from these to the inventions and production of agricultural implements, buggies, steam-engines, newspapers, books, statuary, carving, paintings, the management of drug stores and banks, has not been trodden without contact with thorns and thistles.

53. The higher education of the colored people of the South

While we take pride in what we exhibit as a result of our independent efforts, we do not for a moment forget that our part in this exhibition would fall far short of your expectations but for the constant help that has come to our educational life, not only from the southern states, but especially from northern philanthropists, who have made their gifts a constant stream of blessing and encouragement. The wisest among my race understand that the agitation of questions of social equality is the extremist folly, and that progress in the enjoyment of all the privileges that will come to us must be the result of severe and constant struggle rather than of artiﬁcial forcing. No race that has anything to contribute to the markets of the world is long in any degree ostracized. It is important and right that all privileges of the law be ours, but it is vastly more important that we be prepared for the exercise of these privileges. The opportunity to earn a dollar in a factory just now is worth inﬁnitely more than the opportunity to spend a dollar in an opera-house. In conclusion, may I repeat that nothing in thirty years has given us more hope and encouragement, and drawn us so near to you of the white race, as this opportunity offered by the Exposition; and here bending, as it were, over the altar that represents the results of the struggles of your race and mine, both starting practically emptyhanded three decades ago, I pledge that in your effort to work out the great and intricate problem which God has laid at the doors of the South, you shall have at all times the patient, sympathetic help of my race; only let this be constantly in mind, that, while from representations in these buildings of the product of ﬁeld, of forest, of mine, of factory, letters, and art, much good will come, yet far above and beyond material beneﬁts will be that higher good, that, let us pray God, will come, in a blotting out of sectional differences and racial animosities and suspicions, in a determination to administer absolute justice, in a willing obedience among all classes to the mandates of law. This, coupled with our material prosperity, will bring into our beloved South a new heaven and a new earth. Source: Afro-American encyclopedia, or, the thoughts, doings, and sayings of the race:embracing addresses, lectures, biographical sketches, sermons, poems, names of universities, colleges, seminaries, newspapers, books, and a history of the denominations, giving the numerical strength of each. In fact, it teaches every subject of interest to the colored people, as discussed by more than one hundred of their wisest and best men and women. Compiled and arranged by James T. Haley. Nashville, Tenn.: Haley & Florida, 1895. Documenting the American South, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 2000. Electronic edition available at: http://docsouth.unc.edu/church/haley/haley.html.

53. The higher education of the colored people of the South, remarks of Hugh M. Browne, of Washington D.C., 1896 While Hugh M. Browne saw the value of practical education, from the elementary level to higher education for African Americans living in Liberia and the southern United States, this is also a cautionary tale about the mis-education of black men who could easily have found themselves out of touch with the reality of being black when slavery was not a distant memory anywhere in the world. In my invitation to take part in the discussion of the higher education of the colored people of the South, your Vice-President indicated that the fact that I had lived in Liberia would enable me to speak as one having authority. I am not sure

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that I understand just what Dr. Wayland meant by this hint,—whether he wished me to give an account of Liberia, the republic which began with an imported college, and has not yet established a common school; nor been able, although maintained ﬁnancially by friends in the United States, to prevent this college from falling into the condition which Mr. Cleveland calls ‘‘innocuous desuetude,’’—or whether, possessing himself a knowledge of the retrograding effects of higher education upon that republic, he predicates therefrom the position which I shall take in this discussion. If the latter, he is perfectly right. No man whose judgement is worth accepting can live one week in Liberia without becoming a radical advocate of the now celebrated ratio of 16 to 1,—not between gold and silver money, for Liberia has neither, but between higher and industrial education. I mean that, in the matter of the education of my people, one part of industrial is worth, in weight, volume, and potential energy, sixteen parts of the best literary or higher education the world has ever seen. After much thought and prayerful consideration, I have arrived at the conclusion that the Great Creator has permitted the foundation and existence of Liberia in order to give to the world a striking and forcible object-lesson on the folly of attempting to prepare an undeveloped race for the ‘‘ceaseless and inevitable struggle and competition of life’’ by higher education. In the time allotted, it is impossible to enter into anything like a full presentation of this object-lesson. Happily, this is not necessary for this Association. If, therefore, I can succeed in presenting what a friend of mine once called ‘‘a brief epitome of a brief syllabus,’’ it will be hint sufﬁcient to you gentlemen who are wise in matters relating to social evolution. Zadig, when required to explain his perfect description of the king’s horse, which he had never seen, said:— Wandering through the paths which traverse the wood, I noticed the marks of horse—shoes. They were all equidistant. ‘‘Ah!’’ said I, ‘‘this is a famous galloper.’’ In a narrow alley, only seven feet wide, the dust upon the trunks of the trees was a little disturbed at three feet and a half from the middle of the path. ‘‘This horse,’’ said I to myself, ‘‘had a tail three feet and a half long, and, lashing it from one side to the other, he has swept away the dust.’’ Branches of the trees meet overhead at the height of ﬁve feet, and under them I saw newly-fallen leaves; so I knew the horse had brushed some of the branches, and was, therefore, ﬁve feet high. As to his bit, it must have been made of twenty-three carat gold, for he had rubbed it against a stone, which turned out to be a touchstone, with the properties of which I am familiar by experiment. Lastly, by the marks which his shoes left upon the pebbles of another kind, I was led to think that his shoes were of ﬁne silver. A nineteenth-century Zadig travelling in Liberia—the people having been swept out of existence—could, by a similar retrospective prophecy, describe what manner of man the Americo-Liberian was. His description would be something like this: He was a man who, in every line of life, was a non-producer. All that he possessed came as a gift, either from another race, or from the wild products of nature. A man who had simply used some of the effects of civilization, without ever manipulating the causes which produce these effects. A man who had memorized the higher education of another race, without ever realizing the fact that knowledge is power. He was like the hello-girl in the central ofﬁce of a telephone system who uses the phone many times in the day, but knows nothing of the induction coil, the variable contact of the carbon and platinum buttons, and the effect of this contact on the

53. The higher education of the colored people of the South

strength of the current passing through it. She simply uses a completed instrument which she can neither repair nor reproduce. When asked to explain this true description of a man whom he had never seen, the nineteenth century Zadig would answer:— In my journey through Liberia I ﬁnd a few iron implements used by civilized races, but I ﬁnd no remains of an iron foundry of factory; and the iron ore, though plentiful, rests undisturbed. I ﬁnd some manufactured cotton wares, but I ﬁnd no remains of a cotton gin or mill, and the cotton plant is only found in its wild state. I ﬁnd rubber manufactures, but no remains of the rubber-factory, and the wild rubbertrees have never been tapped. I ﬁnd ground coffee, but no remains of the pulpinghouse or pulper; yet the country is overrun with wild-coffee trees of the ﬁnest quality. I ﬁnd cans which contain all kinds of vegetables, but I ﬁnd no trace whatever of a truck garden or canning factory. I ﬁnd leather articles, but no remains of a cattle ranch, slaughter-house, or tannery. I ﬁnd gold coins, but these bear the stamps of other countries; and the rich deposits of gold throughout the country have not been disturbed. I do not ﬁnd the slightest evidence of the existence of a railroad or a wagon road, nor are there any indications that the streams were ever used as water-ways. I ﬁnd a few ofﬁcial records, but among these no other evidence of an income to the republic than that derived from import and export duties; and the exports are uncultivated, raw products, furnished by the uncivilized tribes, and exported by white men residing in the country. I do not ﬁnd one article bearing the stamp of a Liberian manufacture. I ﬁnd a college in a sad state of decay, but I ﬁnd no trace whatever of a common school. I am not slandering Liberia in this ‘‘retrospective prophecy.’’ I am but hinting at facts to which I called the attention of her people while in that country, and pleaded with them at the peril of my life for a change from a dependent to an independent existence; from a delusive imitation of civilization to a real living civilization; from a memorized knowledge of higher education to that bread-winning, resource-developing industrial knowledge which is a power unto the salvation of both soul and body and which alone can help and undeveloped people to help themselves. I pleaded and labored in that country for industrial education, as I have never pleaded for God’s protection and guidance for myself or labored for my own existence. After studying the country and the condition of the people, I formulated a plan of education for Liberia quite similar to that which has been made famous by Tuskegee. In the letter to the interested white friends in America accompanying this plan occur such passages as the following, which I now quote to show my position on the question we are now discussing thirteen years ago, while in Liberia, and my position to-day while laboring in the cause of education in this country. There is too much at stake in the trail which Liberia is making for any one connected with her, be that connection ever so remote, to be indifferent to the most indifferent of her concerns; but to neglect or unwisely order the education of her youth is to sound he death knell before she has reached her majority. There is not royal road to civilization for the negro; nor does he need such. He needs now, in Liberia, an industrial institute, common primary schools, and a crops of welltrained and experienced foreign teachers, and these black or white, only that they believe in the brotherhood of man, and, above all, are such as think it not a sin to work. It was a serious mistake when the affairs and control of the college were committed to the charge of the trustees in Liberia. A board of trustees, composed

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principally of unlearned and illiterate men, is no more prepared to conduct the affairs of a college than is a canal boatman to direct safely over the Atlantic one of our great streamers. I don’t believe it possible to step out of slavery into such positions,—the distance is too great, and the steps between the two stages too necessary to the securing and maintaining the latter. Nor do I think it just in those who desire to see a race rise undertake to raise it, as so many of our friends have done since the war. Give the negro the opportunity to grow into such positions and he will stand ﬁrm, think correctly, act wisely; but make him the holder of such positions and you expect no more fruit from him than one does perfume from the artiﬁcial ﬂower. We must grow, and those who direct our growth must themselves be grown. This country needs an institution which will put within the reach of the children of the masses, of the Americo-Liberians and of the natives, a common school education coupled with some trade,—mental improvement and muscular development of distinct money value. They need the knowledge which skillfully grapples with the difﬁculties attendant on the development of a new country by a poor and untrained people,—an education which not only trains the mind how to observe and think properly, but which prepares one to intelligently understand the various duties and avocations of life, and enables him to earn a competent livelihood. The child crawls before it walks, and the young nation must struggle ﬁrst in the rougher roads of material development before she essays to tread the higher paths of purely intellectual culture. For the present, provision for higher education should be made only for exceptional cases of talent and merit. Indeed, it would probably be well if this arrangement were permanent; for, after all, only those of exceptional talent and merit succeed in the walks of higher culture. Liberia needs thousands of intelligent farmers and skilled artisans. Through these must education show its power and attract the people to its ways. The rising generation here must be taught self-reliance and independence. They must be made producers, who shall bring to markets of the world the products, wares, and manufactures of properly conducted farms, workshops, and manufactories. The institution for this country at present is at Hampton. And I have underscored Hampton four times. These quotations indicate the conviction which my loyalty to race, wide observation, and experience all unite to conﬁrm,—namely, that a people’s education should ﬁt them to succeed in the condition and environment in which their lot is cast. Let us now come nearer home than Liberia. And let us be perfectly frank and outspoken. The trial of the negro before the bar of nations on the question of his title to the brotherhood of man is too near the jury-stage for sentimentality and weak excuses. The time has arrived for plain speaking and acting, for the presentation of substantial evidence of facts. The same serious mistake made in Liberia, namely, substituting higher for industrial education, was made in the South. There we had the same disregard of the fact that a wilderness exist between Egypt and Canaan in the progress of a race or people. When we reached the opposite shore of our Red Sea, at the close of the late Rebellion, the majority of our saintly white friends of the North, and the colored men who had ear of the nation at that time, believed that we placed our feet upon the land of Canaan. They, therefore, fed us on the milk and honey of that land.

53. The higher education of the colored people of the South

And to us, in our ignorance, this food was sweeter than manna, though the latter was supercharged with the proper nutriment and came directly from heaven. Now that they and we are beginning to realize that the land was not Canaan, but the shores of a wild, rugged, unexplored wilderness, we are both also discovering that the diet of Canaan does not produce the bone and sinew necessary for the journey. We were given the higher education of the advanced white man, whose race has fought the good ﬁght in the wilderness and is now concerned about the improvement of Canaan; and with this misﬁt training we have gone to our people in the wilderness, only to discover that we possess the outﬁt of leisure where the outﬁt of labor is needed. No, my friends, neither man nor race steps from Egypt to Canaan, they journey there through undiscovered roads. The wedding garment of that land is of the crazyquilt pattern, made of pieces of experience gathered only on this journey. I am, therefore, singing daily, not of ‘‘arms and men,’’ but of the sweet uses of this wilderness, where necessity prepares us to win in the struggle for life, and God prepares us to win in the struggle for the life of others. And the burden of my song is that an education and Christian services, which are not adapted to our present condition and environment, are of no more value to us than is a pair of skates to a boy who lives in Madeira. We have been sent to the Greek and Latin authors, but they do not teach us to bridge the streams we meet nor how to bring bread from the untilled soil. We need schools which put the hoe in one hand and a book on farming in the other; a hammer in one hand and a book on carpentry in the other; a broom in one hand and a book on housekeeping in the other. Christian scientiﬁc industrial training is the highway in the wilderness for us. Every circumstance at present makes this way so clear that wayfaring men, though fools shall not err therein, and those colored men who do err are the fools whom the Good Book recommends should be left to perish in their folly. Labor, though the taste for it is acquired, is the true means of development. That it required, under God’s providence, two centuries and a half to introduce us to a mild form of this means, in the South land of this country, is to me a very signiﬁcant fact. If we will come to a familiar acquaintance and saving knowledge of labor, we must do so by educating our children to cherish labor as the pearl of great price, and to sell all else to purchase it. We must eradicate the idea that labor is degrading, by training our children to labor, and industrial education alone does this. I favour the industrial, because the higher or purely literary education is not in touch with out present condition and those parts of our environment with which we are in correspondence. Among others, this higher education produces these three effects which are inimical to the progress of any race or people in our present condition:— First, This purely literary education produces an unmarketable article, thus entailing upon the race three total losses; namely, the cost of its production, the anticipated selling price, and saddest of all, the expense of carrying this article in stock. The avenues of employment which require higher education are to-day over-crowded with white men; among the supply is greater than the demand, and is still increasing. Nor is their higher education a new thing. It is the result of natural growth, and rests upon an experience with the letter which now celebrates not its birthdays, but its centennials.

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Colored men deceive themselves when they fancy color prejudice the obstacle which closes against us the avenues in which higher education reaps its harvest. That which closes these avenues tightest is our lack, of that factor of proﬁciency which is acquired only from experience. And this is the factor which our present condition and environment do not furnish. The whites will not let us practised upon. I am thoroughly convinced that the best way to established this factor amongst, us in this country, is to extract the greatest possible life from those parts of our environment with which we are at present in correspondence. Second, This purely literary education puts the average colored man out of touch with our people. The young white man, squandering the wealth of his parents, because he was reared out of touch with the causes which accumulated that wealth presents to my mind no sadder or more demoralizing picture in the social life of this country than the young colored squandering the knowledge of the university, because his people were reared out of touch with the concrete causes which produced that formulated, abstract knowledge. This purely literary training does not touch the present social condition of our people in sufﬁcient vital points. Its trend is toward the abstract, while we are wrestling with the coarser forms of concrete. The formulated knowledge of the book is but the experience of those who have succeeded in the struggle with the concrete, and can be of little developing value to one whose study of it is divorced from the concrete. When we step out of these seminaries of higher education, we are quite like the girl who thought she was a cook because she had memorized the better part of a scientiﬁc course on cooking. When thus equipped she ﬁnally entered the kitchen, it was only to discover that the old cook did not understand her theories and scientiﬁc terms, and she herself did not know a rolling-pin from a cullender— hence each was disgusted with the other. We are just learning to manipulate the causes of the higher civilization; the knowledge of the effects if this civilization, therefore, will not help us, and one equipped therewith is out of touch with us. We form the working masses engaged in ﬁelds of unskilled labor the world over, even in Africa. The educated men and women who will help us succeed, round by round, to the top of the ladder, must bring us their learning in our own language. Herein lies the difference between the average college-bred man amongst us and our distinguished educator, Booker T. Washington: the former speaks to us brokenly in a foreign language, while the latter speaks to us plainly in our own language. Harvard University honored the race which built her, when she honored Booker T. Washington. I have never known the white race to hesitate in their sanction and praise of men, whatever their color or creed, when they ﬁnd them storing up energy, the motions arising from which produce social efﬁciency. Third, This purely literary training puts the average colored man out of touch with himself. I don’t believe any man, white or black, can in the ﬁrst generation of hid intellectual life, digest and assimilate the present prescribed course of higher education. Physically, there is but one way to obtain the full corn in the ear, and that is to give the seed the condition and environment essential to its daily growth. The seed thus provided for gradually and slowly takes in, digests, and assimilates each day its daily bread, and build up ﬁrst the blade, then the ear, and after that the full corn in the ear. It is none the less true of the metal development of a people,—they must

54. Supreme Court of the United States in Plessy vs. Ferguson 163 U.S. 537, 1896 289

receive mental food gradually and orderly, ﬁrst that which pertains to the blade stage, then that which pertains to the ear stage, and after that, that which pertains to the full-corn-in-the-ear stage. To supply all this while in the blade stage produce the worst form of mental indigestion, and a resemblance to an educated man which is ludicrous and yet self-satisﬁed. In this connection, I do not hesitate to declare that if one should analyze the efforts put forth under this unnatural training, he will ﬁnd that they aim rather at the impossible task of changing the Ethiopian’s skin than at the possible and God ordained one improving the condition of that skin; and in the name God and humanity, what else can the harvest be than impracticability and discontent? Knowledge, like food, is a power to its possessor only when it is assimilated. There can be very little harmony among the ‘‘internal relations’’ of that man whose head is overloaded with indigested knowledge while his empty stomach is wrestling with the petition, ‘‘God us this day our daily bread.’’ A man educated out of touch with himself is like poor little David clothed in the mighty armor of Saul. I rejoice, though, that the time has come when we are learning, even though slowly, that there is at the present stage of our progress more virtue in the sling than there is in the mightiest of such armors. In conclusion, I am not opposing higher education in itself, I am opposing it at a stage in a people’s history when it destroys efﬁciency and power. I am pleading for an education specially adapted to the circumstances and conditions of a speciﬁc case. I am beseeching our benevolent white friends to look upon us in the terriﬁc plants, and not as so much clay to be cast into various forms by the potter. I am not asking a change in the system of education which the white man has built up. I am, out of the fullness of my heart, begging that it be kindergartenized when brought among us. I am claiming that the best way to teach the young idea of an undeveloped people how to shoot it to practise it in shooting the seed corn into the furrow and striking the nail upon the head with the hammer. I see no reason for blaming the white man for the results of my own inactivity. Nor do I look with alarm upon restrictions placed upon my desire to continue in this inactivity. I do know that his former history gives every assurance that when Ethiopia shall unfold her arms and stretch forth her hands in the rivalry of life he will admit her ‘‘on a footing of equality of opportunity.’’ The altruistic feeling of his civilization will demand this as truly as it demanded the abolition of slavery the world over. The height to which we shall rise in true civilization depends upon the energy and wisdom with which we shall stretch forth her hands in this rivalry. Source: Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A. P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

54. Supreme Court of the United States in Plessy vs. Ferguson 163 U.S. 537, 1896 When and how racial segregation began in America remains an open debate. While some southern states erected legal barriers that restricted the movement of African Americans immediately after slavery ended in 1863, other states erected de facto barriers that effectively controlled the movement of blacks. For many decades well into the twentieth century. It is clear that while blacks and whites lived and worked in much the same way after slavery as during it in the South, an extensive system of

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social and economic segregation enforced by widespread hostility towards blacks reigned in many parts of the nation in the 1880s and 90s. When northern troops left the South decades after those hostilities that had sparked the Civil War, old patterns of racial divides resurfaced. Every southern state had enacted black codes immediately after the war to keep the former slaves under tight control. When these laws were voided by the Union, white southerners began exploring other means to maintain their supremacy over blacks. Southern legislatures, for example, enacted criminal statutes that invariably prescribed harsher penalties for blacks than for whites convicted of the same crime, and erected a system of peonage that survived into the early twentieth century. In 1878, the United States Supreme Court ruled that the states could not prohibit segregation on railroads, streetcars, or steamboats. Twelve years later, the Court approved a Mississippi statute requiring segregation on intrastate carriers. In doing so the Court acquiesced in the South’s solution to race relations. In the best known of the early segregation cases, Plessy v. Ferguson (1896), Justice Billings Brown asserted that distinctions based on race did not violate the Thirteenth or Fourteenth Amendments, two Civil War amendments passed to abolish slavery and secure the legal rights of the former slaves. Although the phrase ‘‘separate but equal’’ is not present in the decision, the Court’s ruling in Plessy approved legally enforced segregation as long as the law did not make facilities for blacks inferior to those of whites. In his now famous dissent, Justice Harlan protested that states could not impose criminal penalties on citizens simply because they wished to use the public highways and common forms of transportation. Justice Brown delivered the opinion of the Court. This case turns upon the constitutionality of an act of the General Assembly of the State of Louisiana, passed in 1890, providing for separate railway carriages for the white and colored races … The constitutionality of this act is attacked upon the ground that it conﬂicts both with the Thirteenth Amendment of the Constitution, abolishing slavery, and the Fourteenth Amendment, which prohibits certain restrictive legislation on the part of the States. 1. That it does not conﬂict with the Thirteenth Amendment, which abolished slavery and involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime, is too clear for argument … The proper construction of the Fourteenth Amendment was ﬁrst called to the attention of this court in the Slaughter-house cases, … which involved, however, not a question of race, but one of exclusive privileges. The case did not call for any expression of opinion as to the exact rights it was intended to secure to the colored race, but it was said generally that its main purpose was to establish the citizenship of the negro; to give deﬁnitions of citizenship of the United States and of the States, and to protect from the hostile legislation of the States the privileges and immunities of citizens of the United States, as distinguished from those of citizens of the States. The object of the amendment was undoubtedly to enforce the absolute equality of the two races before the law, but in the nature of things it could not have been intended to abolish distinctions based upon color, or to enforce social, as

54. Supreme Court of the United States in Plessy vs. Ferguson 163 U.S. 537, 1896 291

distinguished from political equality, or a commingling of the two races upon terms unsatisfactory to either. Laws permitting, and even requiring, their separation in places where they are liable to be brought into contact do not necessarily imply the inferiority of either race to the other, and have been generally, if not universally, recognized as within the competency of the state legislatures in the exercise of their police power. The most common instance of this is connected with the establishment of separate schools for white and colored children, which has been held to be a valid exercise of the legislative power even by courts of States where the political rights of the colored race have been longest and most earnestly enforced … So far, then, as a conﬂict with the Fourteenth Amendment is concerned, the case reduces itself to the question whether the statute of Louisiana is a reasonable regulation, and with respect to this there must necessarily be a large discretion on the part of the legislature. In determining the question of reasonableness it is at liberty to act with reference to the established usages, customs and traditions of the people, and with a view to the promotion of their comfort, and the preservation of the public peace and good order. Gauged by this standard, we cannot say that a law which authorizes or even requires the separation of the two races in public conveyances is unreasonable, or more obnoxious to the Fourteenth Amendment than the acts of Congress requiring separate schools for colored children in the District of Columbia, the constitutionality of which does not seem to have been questioned, or the corresponding acts of state legislatures. We consider the underlying fallacy of the plaintiff’s argument to consist in the assumption that the enforced separation of the two races stamps the colored race with a badge of inferiority. If this be so, it is not by reason of any-thing found in the act, but solely because the colored race chooses to put that construction upon it. The argument necessarily assumes that if, as has been more than once the case, and is not unlikely to be so again, the colored race should become the dominant power in the state legislature, and should enact a law in precisely similar terms, it would thereby relegate the white race to an inferior position. We imagine that the white race, at least, would not acquiesce in this assumption. The argument also assumes that social prejudices may be overcome by legislation, and that equal rights cannot be secured to the negro except by an enforced commingling of the two races. We cannot accept this proposition. If the two races are to meet upon terms of social equality, it must be the result of natural afﬁnities, a mutual appreciation of each other’s merits and a voluntary consent of individuals … Legislation is powerless to eradicate racial instincts or to abolish distinctions based upon physical differences, and the attempt to do so can only result in accentuating the difﬁculties of the present situation. If the civil and political rights of both races be equal one cannot be inferior to the other civilly or politically. If one race be inferior to the other socially, the Constitution of the United States cannot put them upon the same plane … Justice Harlan, dissenting. While there may be in Louisiana persons of different races who are not citizens of the United States, the words in the act, ‘‘white and colored races,’’ necessarily include all citizens of the United States of both races residing in that State. So that we have before us a state enactment that compels, under penalties, the separation of the two races in railroad passenger coaches, and makes it a crime for a citizen of either race to enter a coach that has been assigned to citizens of the other race …

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In respect of civil rights, common to all citizens, the Constitution of the United States does not, I think, permit any public authority to know the race of those entitled to be protected in the enjoyment of such rights. Every true man has pride of race, and under appropriate circumstances when the rights of others, his equals before the law, are not to be affected, it is his privilege to express such pride and to take such action based upon it as to him seems proper. But I deny that any legislative body or judicial tribunal may have regard to the race of citizens when the civil rights of those citizens are not involved. Indeed, such legislation, as that here in question, is inconsistent not only with that equality of rights which pertains to citizenship, National and State, but with the personal liberty enjoyed by every one within the United States … The white race deems itself to be the dominant race in this country. And so it is, in prestige, in achievements, in education, in wealth and in power. So, I doubt not, it will continue to be for all time, if it remains true to its great heritage and holds fast to the principles of constitutional liberty. But in view of the Constitution, in the eye of the law, there is in this country no superior, dominant, ruling class of citizens. There is no caste here. Our Constitution is color-blind, and neither knows nor tolerates classes among citizens. In respect of civil rights, all citizens are equal before the law. The humblest is the peer of the most powerful. The law regards man as man, and takes no account of his surroundings or of his color when his civil rights as guaranteed by the supreme law of the land are involved. It is, therefore, to be regretted that this high tribunal, the ﬁnal expositor of the fundamental law of the land, has reached the conclusion that it is compe-tent for a State to regulate the enjoyment by citizens of their civil rights solely upon the basis of race. In my opinion, the judgment this day rendered will, in time, prove to be quite as pernicious as the decision made by this tribunal in the Dred Scott case … The present decision, it may well be apprehended, will not only stimulate aggressions, more or less brutal and irritating, upon the admitted rights of colored citizens, but will encourage the belief that it is possible, by means of state enactments, to defeat the beneﬁcent purposes which the people of the United States had in view when they adopted the recent amendments of the Constitution, by one of which the blacks of this country were made citizens of the United States and of the States in which they respectively reside, and whose privileges and immunities, as citizens, the States are forbidden to abridge. Sixty millions of whites are in no danger from the presence here of eight millions of blacks. The destinies of the two races, in this country, are indissolubly linked together, and the interests of both require that the common government of all shall not permit the seeds of race hate to be planted under the sanction of law. What can more certainly arouse race hate, what more certainly create and perpetuate a feeling of distrust between these races, than state enactments, which, in fact, proceed on the ground that colored citizens are so inferior and degraded that they cannot be allowed to sit in public coaches occupied by white citizens? That, as all will admit, is the real meaning of such legislation as was enacted in Louisiana … If evils will result from the commingling of the two races upon public highways established for the beneﬁt of all, they will be inﬁnitely less than those that will surely come from state legislation regulating the enjoyment of civil rights upon the basis of race. We boast of the freedom enjoyed by our people above all other peoples. But it is difﬁcult to reconcile that boast with a state of the law which,

55. Address of Booker T. Washington

practically, puts the brand of servitude and degradation upon a large class of our fellow-citizens, our equals before the law … I am of opinion that the statute of Louisiana is inconsistent with the personal liberty of citizens, white and black, in that State, and hostile to both the spirit and letter of the Constitution of the United States. If laws of like character should be enacted in the several States of the Union, the effect would be in the highest degree mischievous. Slavery, as an institution tolerated by law would, it is true, have disappeared from our country, but there would remain a power in the States, by sinister legislation, to interfere with the full enjoyment of the blessings of freedom; to regulate civil rights, common to all citizens upon the basis of race; and to place in a condition of legal inferiority a large body of American citizens, now constituting a part of the political community called the People of the United States, for whom, and by whom through representatives, our government is administered. Source: Court proceedings argued April 18, 1896. Decided May 18, 1896. Copyright C Jerry Goldman, Justia & Oyez.

55. Address of Booker T. Washington, delivered at the alumni dinner of Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts, after receiving the honorary degree of ‘‘Master of Arts,’’ June 24, 1896 In this speech, Negro leader Booker T. Washington responded to the increasing improvement between the black and white races. However, he advised that collaboration between the races would reap positive results for humanity in general. This address was reprinted in the pages of The Colored American with an introduction written by Thomas J. Calloway. First in the history of America, a leading American University confers an honorary degree upon a colored man. Harvard has been always to the front in ideas of liberty, freedom and equality. When other colleges of the North were accepting the Negro as a tolerance, Harvard has been awarding him honors, as in the case of Clement G. Morgan of recent date. Her present action, therefore, in placing an honorary crown upon the worthy head of Mr. Washington, is but a step further in her magnanimity in recognizing merit under whatever color of skin. The mere announcement of this event is a great testimony to the standing of Mr. Washington, but to any black person who, as I did, saw and heard the enthusiasm and applause with which the audience cheered the announcement by President Eliot, the degree itself was insigniﬁcant. The Boston Lancers had conducted Gov. Wolcott to Cambridge, and 500 Harvard graduates had double ﬁled the march to Sanders’ Theatre. It was a great day. Latin orations, disquisitions, dissertations and essays in English were delivered by selected graduates, clad in stately and classic cap and gown. Bishops, generals, commodores, statesmen, authors, poets, explorers, millionaires and noted men of every calling, sat as earnest listeners. President Eliot had issued 500 diplomas by handing them to representatives of the graduates in bundles of twenty to twenty-ﬁve. Then came the awarding of honorary degrees. Thirteen were issued. Bishop Vincent and General Nelson A. Miles, Commander of the U.S. Army, being among the recipients. When the name of Booker T. Washington was called, and he arose to acknowledge and accept, there was such an outburst of

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applause as greeted no other name except that of the popular soldier-patriot, General Miles. The applause was not studied and stiff, sympathetic and condoling; it was enthusiasm and admiration. Every part of the audience from pit to gallery joined in, and a glow covered the cheeks of those around me, proving that sincere appreciation of the rising struggle of an ex-slave and the work he has accomplished for his race. But the event of the day was the alumni dinner, when speeches formed the most enjoyable bill of fare. Two hundred Harvard alumni and their invited guests partook of their annual dinner. Four or ﬁve speeches were made, among them one from Mr. Washington. At the close of the speaking, notwithstanding Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, Dr. Minot J. Savage and others had spoken, President Eliot warmly grasped Mr. Washington by the hand and told him that his was the best speech of the day. Anent the conferring of the degree and the toast, the papers have been unusual in favorable comment. Says the Boston Post: ‘‘In conferring the honorary degree of Master of Arts upon the Principal of Tuskegee Institute, Harvard University has honored itself as well as the object of this distinction. The work which Prof. Booker T. Washington has accomplished for the education, good citizenship and popular enlightenment in his chosen ﬁeld of labor in the South, entitles him to rank with our national benefactors. The University which can claim him on its list of sons, whether in regular course or honoris causa, may be proud. ‘‘It has been mentioned that Mr. Washington is the ﬁrst of his race to receive an honorary degree from a New England University. This, in itself, is a distinction. But the degree was not conferred because Mr. Washington is a colored man, or because he was born in slavery, but because he has shown, by his work for the elevation of the people of the Black Belt of the South, a genius and a broad humanity which count for greatness in any man, whether his skin be white or black.’’ The Boston Globe adds: ‘‘It is Harvard which, ﬁrst among New England colleges, confers an honorary degree upon a black man. No one who has followed the history of Tuskegee and its work, can fail to admire the courage, persistence and splendid common sense of Booker T. Washington. Well may Harvard honor the ex-slave, the value of whose services, alike to his race and country, only the future can estimate.’’ The correspondent of the New York Times kindly remarks: ‘‘All the speeches were enthusiastically received, but the colored man carried off the oratorical honors, and the applause which broke out when he had ﬁnished, was vociferous and longcontinued.’’ Most of the papers have printed his cut, and congratulations have come from every source. The grandest feature of the whole thing, is that the fame and honor that are coming thus to Mr. Washington, do not spoil him. Twelve months in the year, night and day, he works for Tuskegee—his heart and love. No vacation, no rest; his life is one unceasing struggle for his school. This is the secret of his power. Here is the lesson to be learned.— Thos. J. Calloway, in The Colored American.

55. Address of Booker T. Washington

BOSTON, June 24th, 1896 MR. PRESIDENT AND GENTLEMEN:— It would in some measure relieve my embarrassment if I could, even in a slight degree, feel myself worthy of the great honor which you do me to-day. Why you have called me from the Black Belt of the South, from among my humble people, to share in the honors of this occasion, is not for me to explain; and yet it may not be inappropriate for me to suggest that it seems to me that one of the most vital questions that touch our American life, is how to bring the strong, wealthy and learned into helpful touch with the poorest, most ignorant, and humble and at the same time, make the one appreciate the vitalizing, strengthening inﬂuence of the other. How shall we make the mansions on yon Beacon street feel and see the need of the spirits in the lowliest cabin in Alabama cotton ﬁelds or Louisiana sugar bottoms? This problem Harvard University is solving, not by bringing itself down, but by bringing the masses up. If through me, an humble representative, seven millions of my people in the South might be permitted to send a message to Harvard—Harvard that offered up on death’s altar, young Shaw, and Russell, and Lowell and scores of others, that we might have a free and united country, that message would be, ‘‘Tell them that the sacriﬁce was not in vain. Tell them that by the way of the shop, the ﬁeld, the skilled hand, habits of thrift and economy, by way of industrial school and college, we are coming. We are crawling up, working up, yea, bursting up. Often through oppression, unjust discrimination and prejudice, but through them all we are coming up, and with proper habits, intelligence and property, there is no power on earth that can permanently stay our progress.’’ If my life in the past has meant anything in the lifting up of my people and the bringing about of better relations between your race and mine, I assure you from this day it will mean doubly more. In the economy of God there is but one standard by which an individual can succeed—there is but one for a race. This country demands that every race measure itself by the American standard. By it a race must rise or fall, succeed or fail, and in the last analysis mere sentiment counts for little. During the next half century and more, my race must continue passing through the severe American crucible. We are to be tested in our patience, our forbearance, our perseverance, our power to endure wrong, to withstand temptations, to economize, to acquire and use skill; our ability to compete, to succeed in commerce, to disregard the superﬁcial for the real, the appearance for the substance, to be great and yet small, learned and yet simple, high and yet the servant of all. This, this is the passport to all that is best in the life of our republic, and the Negro must possess it, or be debarred. While we are thus being tested, I beg of you to remember that wherever our life touches yours, we help or hinder. Wherever your life touches ours, you make us stronger or weaker. No member of your race in any part of our country can harm the meanest member of mine, without the proudest and bluest blood in Massachusetts being degraded. When Mississippi commits crime, New England commits crime, and in so much, lowers the standard of your civilization. There is no escape—man drags man down, or man lifts man up. In working out our destiny, while the main burden and center of activity must be with us, we shall need, in a large measure in the years that are to come, as we have in the past, the help, the encouragement, the guidance that the strong can give the weak. Thus helped, we of both races in the South, soon shall throw off the shackles of racial and sectional prejudice and rise, as Harvard University has risen and as we

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all should rise, above the clouds of ignorance, narrowness and selﬁshness, into that atmosphere, that pure sunshine, where it will be our highest ambition to serve MAN, our brother, regardless of race or previous condition. Source: Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

56. How shall the colored youth of the South be educated?, 1897 A. D. MAYO In this essay, A. D. Mayo, an African American minister from Massachusetts, addressed the educational status of African Americans in the rural South. He wrote that the focus of education should center on industrial arts schools, staffed by welltrained African American teachers, for such schools would provide a solid education of political and social advancement for rural Southern blacks. Next to the preservation of the Union the most notable result of the great Civil War was the emancipation of more than six millions of Negroes and their sudden and perilous elevation, in deﬁance of all historic precedents, from the lowest to the highest position in modern civilizations,—complete legal citizenship of the United States. For more than thirty years the people of the old ﬁfteen slave states have been wrestling with the problem of bringing the actual condition of these new citizens into conformity with their legal civic status as recorded in the Constitution and laws of every American commonwealth. By common consent the only lever that can lift this nation within a nation to its ﬁnal position in American life is found in that group of agencies which, ‘‘working together for good,’’ is know as education. The present essay is an attempt to outline the educational status of the American negro citizen in our Southern states, and to suggest some of the more evident and imperative methods by which the great educational movement of the colored race, begun with its emancipation in 1865, can now be reorganized in the light of past experience and carried forward to a successful issue. But ﬁrst let me indicate the point of view from which this observation and estimate are taken. 1. I trace the direct hand of God’s providence in the removal of this people from the darkness of pagan barbarism and bondage in the ‘‘dark continent,’’ amid the comparative darkness of Christendom three hundred years ago, to a new continent, destined to become the seat of the world’s chief republic. No other portion of this race, either in Africa or elsewhere, has at any time been so favored by divine Providence as in this calling out of Egypt, at the beginning of a forty years in the wilderness, in the journey toward the land of promise. 2. I trace the hand of God through the two hundred and ﬁfty years of the life of this people in the English colonies and the southern United States before its ﬁnal emancipation, a generation ago. I have no apologies for its darker shades, and make no claim for the ‘‘peculiar institution’’ as a missionary enterprise. But this I see: While the masses of the European peoples, without exception, came up to their day of deliverance through a thousand years of war, pestilence and famine, which destroyed as many as now live on that continent, this people was trained for civilization through a prolonged childhood under the direction and by the consent of the superior class in the most progressive nation on earth. This is the only people that

56. How shall the colored youth of the South be educated?, 1897

has made the passage from barbarism to civilization without passing through a wilderness dominated by the three furies of the prayer-book,—‘‘sword, pestilence and famine.’’ Up to 1860 it never strewed the continent with its bones or watered its ﬁelds with its blood in war. Its people never died in thousands, like every European people, by famine. And so well were they guarded against pestilence that no people on earth has so increased and multiplied, until to-day we behold a nation three times as numerous as the American republic under the presidency of George Washington. 3. When at last the republic, like every great people, was called upon to make the grand decision whether it was indeed one nation or a confederacy of thirty nations which one of the number could sever, this people was providentially so placed that neither the Union nor the confederacy could boast that it had received the greater aid at its hands. Among the three million soldiers and sailors of the Union, at most were found not more than a quarter of a million of colored ﬁghter and workers. But until the close of the great conﬂict the confederacy received the aid of probably ﬁve millions of the colored people, in raising supplies, carrying on the home life, and working in the various ways whereby the effective strength and number of its armies was prodigiously increased. And it was no small gain for the freedmen that, when peace and freedom came, every generous and thoughtful family in the South acknowledged a debt of gratitude to them and laid no charge against them for what had happened. Meanwhile, the North and the nation, which had liberated the slaves as an act of civil war, felt bound by every consideration of justice and humanity to do its uttermost for their protection and elevation. 4. And when the war cloud lifted and the six millions of this people stood up for the ﬁrst ‘‘dress parade’’ of the grand army of freedmen, the whole civilized world looked on with amazement at what appeared. For during that period of less than three centuries the race had made a greater progress than any other people in the history of mankind. During those memorable years the African negro had learned the three fundamental lessons of civilization: How to work under intelligent supervision; the language and the religion of a civilized, Christian country. And that country was the world’s foremost republic, and all the experiences of slave life had been during the years when it was growing from thirteen colonies to the United States of America. It was not remarkable, under those circumstances, that among these ﬁve or six millions was found a body of men and women who became the foremost leaders of the race, by the natural selection of superior intelligence, superior character, and superior executive ability. Freedom came to the Negro in a country by climate adapted to his condition; where good land was a drug in every market; so fertile that no family need starve; so sparsely populated that one of its states to-day could support the entire colored population of eight millions and still call aloud for millions more. 5. I do not discuss the wisdom or unwisdom of the last great act of this ‘‘strange eventful history’’—the conferring on this people at once the world’s highest opportunity—the supreme right of full American citizenship world’s highest opportunity— the supreme right of full American citizenship, with all that belongs thereto. But I see that, under the same directing providence, even this, the most daring and perilous experiment in government recorded in history, awoke the entire country at once to the necessity and duty of providing that education for the coming generation without which freedom itself would have been only a mockery and a phantasm.

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At once the national government stretched forth its hand to the two millions of colored children and youth. The great philanthropist, George Peabody, born and reared in the common schools of Massachusetts, a citizen of the South, a resident in and illustrious benefactor of the metropolis of the British empire, included the Negro children in the greatest personal gift at that time ever made for the education of a whole people. The board of Peabody trustees, the most distinguished body of men that ever served as a ‘‘common school board of education,’’ under the presidency of Robert C. Winthrop, the descendant of Governor John Winthrop, the most illustrious of his great family, the model American citizen; through its right and left hand, Dr. Barnas Sears and Dr. J. L. M. Curry, invited the South to make its ﬁnal effort to establish the common school for ‘‘every sort and condition’’ of its people. And, most wonderful of all the wonders of this era of miracles, the old master class of the South joined hands with the educational public of the North in the glorious enterprise of educating the children of its freedmen for the new American citizenship. All honor to the North and the nation for what it has done in giving to this people the greatest opportunity, to train its superior youth for the leadership of a nation. But we must not forget that for every dollar expended from the marvelous wealth of the richest nation and the wealthiest states of Christendom in behalf of the Negro, the sixteen states of the South, in the day of their poverty, have given four dollars for the education of these children in the new Southern common schools. 6. So here our ‘‘nation within a nation’’ stands to-day. The North and the republic have given the Negro personal emancipation and, as far as constitutions and laws can go, political freedom. But the only highway to the real use and enjoyment of complete American citizenship is the education of the head, the heart and the hand, which leads a people through the paths of peace and by the methods of a Christian civilization, up from every possible depth to every possible height of human achievement. The South has struck hands once and forever with the North and the nation, and in the establishment and support of the American common school, at a cost, during the past twenty-ﬁve years, of more than four hundred and eighty-three million dollars for its colored citizens,—has done such a work as no people under similar circumstances ever did before. The only question now in order is: in view of what God and the Republic have done, what does this people propose to do for itself? What must this ‘‘nation within a nation’’ do to be saved? I answer, without one word of hesitation: Turn its back upon the past. Return thanks to Almighty God that it now stands on the threshold of the world’s highest position, sovereign citizenship in the world’s greatest republic. Let it behold in this opportunity for the education of the two millions of its children and youth in the American common school, the ﬁnal proof of the gracious providence that ‘‘thus far has let it on.’’ Now let it gird up its loins, face the sunrise, and along this highway of civilization begin its upward march toward the future that can only be achieved through that education which is but another name for the Christian method of rising out of the lower places of the earth toward the sunlit summits that front the heavens and scan the horizon. With the best light at my command I therefore hold that the absolute impending duty of the colored citizens of the South is to combine and by every practical method inaugurate a grand revival in behalf of the country and village common school.

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The graded school for colored children and youth in the cities and larger towns in these states is now in a fair way to success. But it is in the vast majority of the common schools for the colored children and youth, in the open country and smaller villages, that the great ﬁeld for educational work in the south is now found. By the report of the National Bureau of Education for 1892–93 we learn that in sixteen states and the District of Columbia there are now (estimated) 2,630,331 colored children between the ages of ﬁve and eighteen. Of these 1,267,828 are enrolled in the common schools. The average daily attendance varies in different states; in Virginia one-half, in South Carolina a larger, in Maryland a smaller proportion; in the District of Columbia, where the colored schools are best, 11,000 of the 14,500 enrolled. It would probably be an approximate estimate to say that one-third the number of colored children in the South between ﬁve and eighteen are in average daily attendance on common schools, in session less than ﬁve and rarely four months in the year, during a period probably not exceeding four years in the life of the pupil. These children are under the instruction of 25,615 colored teachers. ‘‘In the academies, schools, colleges, etc., for colored youth there are, as far as known, 10,191 male and 11,920 female students. In all these schools reported in 1892–93 there are 25,859 students. In the elementary departments of seventy-ﬁve of these institutions are 13,176 pupils; in the secondary 7,365; in the collegiate, 963; and in professional 924. In the collegiate department of these institutions only twenty-ﬁve per centage of colored illiteracy of persons above the age of ten in 1890 was found in Alabama; 69.1 per cent. During the twenty years from 1870 to 1890 the per centage of colored illiteracy was reduced from 85 to 60 per cent of the entire population. In Kentucky the colored school enrolment has reached 78 per cent of the colored youth of school age, while in nine states it falls below 60 per cent. Alabama, with the exception of three states, is giving education to the largest number of colored children in secondary schools. In the number of colored students in normal school courses in 1895 Alabama led the entire South, with 785; also in the number of colored students receiving industrial training, 3,427. It is estimated that the Hampton school in Virginia and the Tuskegee in Alabama now receive nearly one-half the entire sum contributed by the North for the education of the Southern Negro; more than three hundred dollars annually. But, with the best effort of the National Bureau of Education, owing to a chronic habit of neglect in forwarding school returns, these statistics of Negro education can be regarded as little better than a tolerable accurate approximation. Other estimates give in the entire South 162 schools of the secondary and higher type, with 37,000 students and 1,550 teachers. But at the highest estimate, of probably 800,000 colored children and youth in daily school attendance, not 50,000 will be found in any grade above the elementary and lower grammar schools. If these institutions, especially those largely supported by the North for the secondary and higher schooling of the colored youth in all these states are wise in time and correctly gauge the drift of sentiment in the educational and religious public in the nation, they will at once do four things:— 1. With all possible dispatch consistent with existing arrangements they will relieve themselves of their elementary department and concentrate their work on the training of competent youth for leadership in all the positions where superior ability and character are in demand.

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With these four reforms these institutions can rely upon the continued favor of the friends of education throughout the country; at present for temporary supplies, and ﬁnally for substantial endowment, to establish them as the future collegiate and professional seminaries for this people. So we are thrown back upon our fundamental position,—the almost absolute dependence of the colored people of the South upon the country district and village common school of the generation of children and youth now on the ground. More than ninety-ﬁve per cent of these two million six hundred thousand, from ﬁve to eighteen, will there receive the schooling that will largely determine their ability, twenty years hence, to become the American Macedonian phalanx, the chosen ten thousand on which our ‘‘nation within a nation’’ must depend for its direction in all public and private affairs. Hitherto, this work of education, including a good deal of aid and comfort for the colored churches, has borne very largely upon the white people of both sections of the country. There are no very reliable statics of the amount of money contributed by the whole country to the schooling of the colored people during the past thirty-ﬁve years. It will probably not be very wide of the truth to say that from the outbreak of the Civil War not less than one hundred and ten million dollars has been paid for this purpose. Of this eighty-ﬁve million has been expended by the people of the South for the education of the colored children and youth in the common school, and not less than twenty-ﬁve million by the national government and churches and people of the states that remained in the Union in 1862. Probably no hundred million dollars was never expended anywhere with better results. Nothing that has happened south of Mason and Dixon’s line since the foundation of the government has been honorable to the leading class of the South as the voluntary contribution of the eighty-ﬁve million dollars, under the peculiar condition of the American common school for the children of their former bondmen. But, as a grim old railroad president once remarked to me, as he very leisurely extracted a ﬁve-dollar fold coin from his vest pocket as his contribution to my ministry of education, I don’t take much stock in trying to educate two million of Southern children by passing round a hat.’’ Our nation within a nation must realize, as its educated leaders everywhere declare, that the present condition of affairs is temporary and cannot be prolonged without danger of a decided reaction, not only among the benevolent people of the North, but from the roundabout common sense of the American people. The conviction is abroad, even in a more dangerous form in the South than elsewhere, that a people, eight millions strong, virtually the reliable laboring class of a dozen great states, which from a condition of absolute poverty in 1865, in thirty years has gathered together $300,000,000 of taxable property; the church property of one religious denomination amounting to nine million

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dollars; the majority of its intelligent, moral and industrial people to-day handling more money than the settlers of New England during the ﬁrst half-century of their occupation; its average church and social gatherings displaying a better style of dress than entire classes of people in all the states; with the sympathy of Christendom behind it; should not so largely as at present rely on the prodigious system of solicitation that makes every Northern city from June to October a lively imitation of a new administration. Ordinary even ‘‘sanctiﬁed’’ human nature, cannot forever endure this tremendous pressure. It is useless to ignore or in any general way to attempt to resist this impression, or to evade the danger of its becoming more inﬂuential in certain sections of the country. The question comes louder every year: ‘‘Why cannot the colored people themselves do more to build their own school system, which is practically their one reliance for the training of the generation of their children now on the ground? Why do their people of means so often ignore their own public schools and spend their money on expensive schools and seminaries elsewhere, or even inferior schools at home? And why do so many of these more prosperous families compel their most valuable school men and women, who are needed at their posts of home service, to wear out their lives in tramping from the Atlantic to the Paciﬁc and from the Lakes to the Gulf, beseeching the gift of student aid, which, if applied in their home common schools, would give an additional month of instruction to ﬁfty children instead of supporting one Common school pupil in a ‘‘university?’’ I repeat,—I see no help in this emergency save by a great revival in behalf of the common school among the colored masses of all these states. That revival must be led by the teachers and the educational public,—that portion of this people which appreciates the situation and feels the tremendous issues impending on the response to the demand. No political party in state or nation, no system of evangelization in any or all of the churches; no new departure of private benevolence can meet the emergency. There is no other way under heaven known among men’’ whereby this nation within a nation ‘‘can be saved’’; as far as its salvation concerns its earthly destiny, except by a great awakening among these eight millions aroused by their own trusted and most inﬂuential leaders; not a revival that comes as a cyclone and leaves a spiritual wreck in its wake; but an intelligent, far reaching, practical awakening of whole communities, counties, cities, states; ‘‘growing while men sleep’’; extending from commonwealth to commonwealth; giving the partisan politician notice to be ‘‘up and doing’’ and every enemy of the common school a ‘‘fearful looking for of judgment,’’ until it compels the ‘‘power that be’’ to provide for the training of the young American Negro for the momentous duties already thundering at the door. ‘‘The way to resume specie payments is to resume,’’ said Horace Greeley while the statesmen at Washington were pounding their solemn brows over the ﬁnancial problem of twenty-ﬁve years ago. Booker T Washington, after his own vivid practical manner of speech, has told us the way in which this work was done in one case: ‘‘Ten years ago a young man born in slavery found his way to the Tuskegee school. By small cash payments and work on the farm he ﬁnished the course with a good English education and a practical and theoretical knowledge of farming. Returning to his country home, where ﬁve-sixth of the citizens were colored, he still found them mortgaging their crops, living on rented land from hand to mouth, and

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deeply in debt. School had never lasted longer than three months, and was taught in a wreck of a log cabin by an inferior teacher. Finding this condition of things, the young man took the three months public school as a starting point. Soon he organ organized the older pupils into a club that came together every week. In these meetings the young man instructed as to the value of owning a home, the evils of mortgaging, and the importance of educating their children. He taught them how to save money, how to sacriﬁce—to live on bread and potatoes until they could get out of debt, beginning buying a home and stop mortgaging. Through the lessons and inﬂuence of these meetings the ﬁrst year of this young man’s work, these people built up by their contributions in money and labor a nice farm school-house that replaces the wreck of the cabin. The next year this work continued, and those people, out of their own pockets, added two months to the original three-months school term. Month by month has been added to the school term till it now lasts seven months every year. Already fourteen families within a radius of ten miles have bought and are buying homes, a large proportion have ceased to mortgage their crops and are raising their own food supplies. In the midst of all was the young teacher with a model cottage and a model farm as an example and a center of light for the whole community.’’ In all save exceptional cases, at ﬁrst by private contributions, and ultimately by some method of local taxation, it may be possible to extend the common school in the country and village of the South even for two or three months; put the schoolhouse in better repair, insist on a more competent teacher, and generally to lift up the entire business of country school-keeping to an assured and progressive condition. Nowhere in this republic is an able, religious, tactful, dead-in-earnestyoung man or woman so powerful for good as the thousands of teachers in the colored schools of the sixteen states once called the South. Any state association of colored teachers in ﬁve years could place their state as far in advance of its present position in the people’s common school as it is to-day beyond the old ﬁeld-school of the grandfathers. Now, if any reliable or competent man or woman would appear in any metropolitan city of the North or South, properly indorsed and supported, bringing the ‘‘good news’’ that ﬁve hundred country and village common schools districts of the colored people of any of these states would, this coming year, by voluntary contribution, raise each the sum of twenty-ﬁve dollars that would furnish the salary of one good teacher indorsed by a principal of a state normal school for one additional month’s instruction for its thirty to ﬁfty children, I believe an additional twelve thousand ﬁve hundred dollars could be raised in a month and all these ﬁfteen to twenty-ﬁve thousand pupils receive two additional months of instruction from a teacher who teaches and does not ‘‘fumble’’ with his little consistency. This proposition is no visionary theory of my own. During my entire ministry of education in the South, since 1880, I have never asked a Southern community to do what many other Southern communities, no better off than itself, had not successfully done. Hundreds of district schools in all these states are thus being improved by the voluntary contributions of their own people, often assisted from without. I am convinced that if this method of local aid were organized and thoroughly tried, with the indorsement of responsible educators in both sections, it would become not only a success, but one of the most poplar methods of giving aid and comfort where most needed by the colored people.

56. How shall the colored youth of the South be educated?, 1897

There is yet another reason for the inauguration of this people’s grand revival in the interest of the children and youth of their nation within a nation. The American people’s common school is a public university of good manhood, good womanhood, good citizenship in a republican government and order of society. It is from beginning to end an arrangement ‘‘of the people, for the people, by the people,’’ acting through a ﬂexible majority, for educating the children in the great American art of living together; each pupil acquiring the mastery of his own mental, moral and executive faculty in preparation for a responsible and inspiring career of full American citizenship at the coming of legal manhood or womanhood. Here the people organize, support and, through responsible ofﬁcials elected by a legislative school board, teach and train their own children. The pupil is neither a slave under a schoolmaster, nor the subject of a government his parents did not create and control. He is a ‘‘minor’’ citizen, in training for his ‘‘majority’’ in a miniature commonwealth, whose ‘‘rules and regulations’’ are the laws enacted or approved by a popular body and administered by a teacher responsible to the people for every act within his jurisdiction. Here for this time the child steps out from the limited and exclusive life of the family, where he is often the ‘‘all in all,’’ into the broad society of a little republic where no superiority in the wealth, ability, culture, social, personal or public positions of his family tells on his standing among his fellows. As in his future life, he stands for himself and rises or falls according to his own personal merit or demerit. Another superiority of the American common school over all its rival is that it is no less a seminary for the adult people than for the adult people than for the children. Before the year 1860 several of the states of the South endeavored to put on the ground the public school system for the white race devised by Thomas Jefferson, at the time of its publication in some ways the broadest and most enlightened that had appeared in this or any land. Although the South was not lacking in good scholars, farsighted educational statesmen, and an increasing body of superior people, who realized the peril to the lower class of its population from the illiteracy that like a great pestilential slough, there as in Europe, festered at the bottom of society, there was never satisfactory or permanent result until the close of the war. All these interesting experiments were ﬁnally stranded on the most dangerous reef in the old-time Southern order of society,—the lack of efﬁcient local government. The old-time system of government in the wide, sparsely settled district of a Southern county was at best a government at long range, always in danger of falling into the hands of a court-house ‘‘ring’’ at the country town; in many ways the feeblest possible arrangement. The most beneﬁcent and powerful inﬂuence was the social and moral power exerted by the superior families,—one of the ablest and best of the aristocratic families in Christendom, held together by one central interest, the preservation of the social and political order of which it was the head. This arrangement did good service through the ﬁrst half-century transition period of the republic and produced a state of affairs that some of its literary admires even now laud as the golden age of Southern American society. There was little vagrancy, for the colored folk were under the strict police control of the plantation; the poor white man of the district was an easy-going dependent; and the non-slave-holding farmer generally lived in a different portion of the state. Thomas Jefferson early saw the peril of a such a condition and urged Virginia to adopt the New England system of town local government, which in a modiﬁed form, was afterwards extended to the new Northwest.

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But that was then possible. The coming of emancipation found the vast rural districts of this section almost destitute of local government, with the drift of the civil war and the criminal and vagrant class of its six millions of freedmen aﬂoat; with no effective labor laws to protect the children from the ignorance or greed of the patent or the tyranny of the corporation; no efﬁcient vagrant law to save the open country from the nuisance and peril of the idle, vicious, depraved, often ﬁendish tramp who wandered about at his own wicked will until he ran against an indignant man with a shotgun or an infuriated mob, too crazy with drink and revenge to await the slow motion of a trial in a court, where a swarm of furious criminal lawyers were bound to move heaven and earth in defense of the most ﬂagrant offender. A potent cure of this and other disorders of the present rural Southern society is the building up of a more efﬁcient style of local government; so that in every neighborhood may be found a body of people accustomed to public activity and administration; not merely voting in a ﬁercely contested election, but making and administering public ordinances for their own protection and the development of all the conditions of a well-ordered state. This course must be the growth of a generation. But, meanwhile, as by a special political providence, the beginning of this great movement has already come to the Southern people in the establishment and administration of the people’s country and village district school. This school, although a part of the educational system of the state and still to a large extent dependent on the state for support, is in fact a little republic set up in a limited area of territory through the entire vast rural domain of these sixteen states. Here the people may and often do elect their own local board of school trustees, who administer the school law of the state and supervise the school which contains a representative of every style of family in the district. The school house becomes a little state house, the one centre of the local public life. Every family that sends a child in interested in it as in no political party, church or secret society. The goings-on therein are watched as nothing else is watched in the neighborhood. Its teacher is the ‘‘observers.’’ Every good boy is known and encouraged; every bad boy is ‘‘spotted’’; every superior girl aspiring to the dignity of a school mistress is ‘‘booked’’ for Tuskegee Hampton, Claﬂin or one of the one hundred and sixty-two superior institutions where she may be educated into all of which she is capable. The people, already possessed of additional public inﬂuence, will more and more seek to have their way in this great pubic function. Here they are trained to act together for the most important public interest, the education of their own children. The public life that revolves about the little school house is of the most valuable and stimulating sort. It need have none of the vulgarity and ferocity of partisan political contest. It can dispense with the sectarian fury and superstitious fanaticism that too often make a devil’s normal school of a quarrelsome church. It steers clear of the bitter rivalries of social ambition; for the child of the humblest mother may become the foremost leader of his race. What a people’s university can this school be made! It is set up in sight of every man’s door, always waiting to be improved, able by the self-sacriﬁce and enlightens cooperation of its families to become anything good they demand. It is the most radical and powerful training school of young and old America for the new republic that we all will face with the rising sun in the twentieth century. It only needs that the people of every school district in all these states rise to the occasion; take the

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schools into their own hands: if the legislature will not permit them under the law, improve it by calling in the gospel of putting their own shoulder to the wheel, turning their backs to the politicians and doing the work themselves. Nobody will care or dare to resist any sensible, practical, persistent effort of the people in any country or village school district in the South to make its school the best in the country, in the state, in nation. No Southern Legislature will permanently refuse to come to the relief of a country school system when the people are straining every nerve to make the best of a hard situation and send up a plea to the capitol for aid and encouragement for the children. And, better yet, any people of any state in the Union that goes on educating itself after this fashion, in the self-helping American way of doing business, as it can in the management of the people’s common school, will sooner or later become a body politic that no statesman, even the cross-roads politician, can safely offend or ignore,—a constituency that will know just what it needs, and just how to get what it wants, in the direct, peaceful, obstinate American way. A people so trained will vote, and be apt to vote right, especially on education, and that vote will be counted. And every aspirant ‘‘in a strait’’ for an ofﬁce will look that way, and every patriotic and thoughtful man will rejoice that this glorious right of suffrage, given to our ‘‘nation within a nation,’’ has ﬁnally become a public blessing, the bulwark of the children’s right to education in the people’s common school. The colored teachers must become the leaders in the great revival of the country district and village common school. The young colored man or woman graduate from any of the superior seminaries of the race, especially if his instruction has been a reality and not a sham, if he really knows what he has studied and can tell what he knows, and, beyond his function as a pedagogue, has a broad and generous outﬁt of intelligent, moral and executive manhood or womanhood, at once may become a missionary of the higher Christian civilization to the entire community. The colored schools of the Southern country and village need a larger number of well qualiﬁed women teachers. The colored woman seems endowed by nature with a genius and faculty for the care of children. Amid all the discord and mutual political defamation of the last thirty years, the ﬁrst Southern man in his sober senses, is yet to be found who has presumed in public to raise his voice against his colored ‘‘Mammy.’’ Repeat that venerable name in the Congress of the United States and a freshet of eloquence will burst all the barriers that even Speaker Reed could pile up, and a score of ‘‘great statesmen’’ will again become a mob of juvenile wildcats in praise of a loving black ‘‘mammy’’ who sunk herself so deep down into their hearts that she could never be forgotten. Now send the granddaughter of that woman of the old time to a good school; help her to drink deep from the fountains of the new education, and put her in charge of the children in the country school house; and there will come a revival that will blossom like the ﬂowery April that reigns in glory in the opening Southern spring. Of course a great need of the Southern Negro youth is a training in the new industrial education. I say ‘‘new industrial education.’’ For after a very practical and effective style the colored citizen of the United States has graduated with respectable standing from a course of two hundred and ﬁfty years in the university of the old-time type of manual labor. The South of to-day is what we see it, largely because the colored men and women at least during the past two hundred and ﬁfty years, have not been lazy

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‘‘cumberers of the ground,’’ but the grand army of labor that has wrestled with nature and led these sixteen states ‘‘out of the woods’’ thus far on the high road to material prosperity. But the new industrial education places the emphasis on the last word: Education. it teaches that all effective work done by the hand is ﬁrst done by the soul. It is the man that works the hand, not the hand that works the man. No ordinary system of labor, however plodding, faithful and persistent, can develop the resources of the least American state, unless it is organized, supervised and directed by intelligence, character and trained executive ability. The state of Massachusetts, more than two hundred and ﬁfty years ago, ‘‘started business’’ on the bleak north-eastern Atlantic coast with two ideas: 1. That every man and woman should ‘‘work for a living.’’ 2. That every boy and girl should be sent to school. The little state ‘‘fought it out on that line’’ for two hundred or more years before there was within its borders what we now call a school of industrial training. But during this time it had raised up a dozen generations of people of more than ordinary intelligence and habit of work as ‘‘steady-going’’ and persistent as the procession of the he seasons and days and hours and minutes of the revolving years. To-day the new Bay State is one of the richest in the world. The average wage-earning in the Commonwealth, including every man, woman and child is 73 cents a day,—nearly twice the amount of the average wage of the whole country; and the state earns $250,000,000 per year in excess of the average earning of that number of the American people. And, beside this, there is no especial lack of all that characterized our higher American civilization.

This does not mean that industrial education is useless. Massachusetts was the ﬁrst state, twenty-ﬁve years ago, to move in the introduction of industrial drawing into every common school, and she challenges the republic to-day for the excellence of her school of skilled industry and the various useful ornamental arts. But her example does remind some of our education that a trained mind, a solid character, an intelligent purpose and a determined will behind the hand, are the creators of all the genuine progress in the material development of the republic. The especial problem of industrial education in the South is: How shall the vast majority of its colored children and youth who cannot live in cities and can attend only the country district or village common school for a few months in the year and a few years in a lifetime be introduced to the wide ﬁeld of intelligent and skilled labor in its different departments? It is so evident that we are almost indignant that any man in his sober senses fail to see it, that unless within the coming twenty-ﬁve years the young men and women of this race do take up the mechanical and operative occupations, as they have not yet, they will be ﬁrst invited and ﬁnally compelled to ‘‘take a back seat’’ in the ranks of the laboring and producing class. I have no question that the South has in its colored population the material for one of the most valuable operative classes in the world; a source of boundless prosperity in the development now awaiting it. What is needed just now is a little less newspaper ‘‘thundering in the index’’ about the vast resources of the Southern country to attract a rush of undesirable immigration from abroad, and a good deal more work put in on the practical side of education to bring its own laboring people up to their native capacity as the enlightened and skilled working class which the South now demands.

56. How shall the colored youth of the South be educated?, 1897

The colored graduates of the one hundred and sixty schools of the secondary and higher education in the South, if ﬁtly trained, can be sent forth as teachers to the open country and village schools, where the vast majority of the children are found, and in numerous ways can awaken a great interest in all that relates to improved farming, house-keeping, economical living, mechanical training and operative industry. And thus can they explode the most dangerous public fallacy that still holds captive multitudes of well-meaning but ill-informed people—that the education of the masses is only another name for laziness and ‘‘big head.’’ They can inaugurate a movement in thousands of rural communities that will crowd the secondary schools with students, well prepared by a good English elementary training for that union of a thorough academical and industrial outﬁt which will come like a fertilizing ﬂood upon the open country and lift the people above the stagnation and discouragement that now broods over entire regions of the South-land. The time has come when the colored clergy of the South should be called to the aid of this greatest of needed revivals. The history of every denomination of Christian churches in America proclaims the fact that that, in exact proportion to the revival of popular intelligence, good schools, improved industry and moral reform in the affairs of this world, has been the growth of ‘‘pure and undeﬁled religion.’’ The old-time Congregational and Presbyterian clergy of the eastern and middle states of the Union, whose church polity carried along, as upon a strong current, the establishment of schools for the whole people, were the prophets of the prosperity, power and beneﬁcent inﬂuence of these churches in the republic. The great revival of interest in popular education in every American church, at present, is one of the most hopeful omens of the future and largely accounts for the fact that the American Christian church as a whole to-day gives to the world the most reasonable, truthful, moral and spiritual interpretation of the Christian religion ever given to any people in any land since the great Teacher lived and taught in Palestine. And while all this is coming to pass, let every man and woman of the race who seeks the ultimate and highest good of our ‘‘nation within a nation’’ stand fast in his or her own place and watch and pray and work for that ‘‘good time coming,’’ which always does come when zeal is married to wisdom and ‘‘righteousness and peace have kissed each other’’ in any great effort for the uplift of mankind. Let not the young men and women waste life in reckless and visionary efforts, or in the attempt to carry by assault the venerable fortress of prejudice and injustice that can only be reduced through a siege of starvation by the grand army of children and youth which is now organizing and drilling for a ﬁnal campaign of education. Man at the best is slow and obstinate; and the barbarism which is the growth of ages of human ignorance, folly and sin will only yield the gradual but irresistible power of a growing enlightenment, a broader justice and a more profound and comprehensive love. Horace Mann used to say ‘‘the difﬁculty with me is that I am always in a hurry, while God is never in a hurry.’’ Certainly, on the backward look, this people, least of all, has reason to rail against Providence; for never in the world before was a community so numerous, in three brief centuries, so tided over the period of transition from the depths of human abasement to the summit of human opportunity. It will not be through any crisis of violence and tumult and conﬂict of races, classes and nationalities that the grand army of the American people, 75,000,000 strong, will attain to its complete organization and be marshalled on the ﬁeld to confront the united ignorance, superstition, shiftlessness, vulgarity and vice of the

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world on some perhaps not far distant, eventful day to come. All that can be done at present, in the unity and patience of wisdom and love, to lift the masses of our people to a higher plane of intelligent and skilled industry, better home living, economy, solid prosperity and a wider and loftier view of the life, through the entire range of agencies included in that greatest of all words, Education, will hasten the day of deliverance from every private and public hindrance to the complete success of any class of the American people. Through a whole week before the battle of Sedan, which closed the dismal era of the despotism of Napoleon III, the different armies of the German powers were silently and steadily marching, each by its own most available road, toward the concentration of the hosts for the decisive conﬂict. If the leaders and soldiers of any special division had become discouraged and demoralized and gone tramping off on its own account, it would have come to grief and there would have been no united Germany and no republican France to-day. Happily each division of that mighty army, in good faith, marched by others from above which it did not understand, ‘‘trusting in God and keeping its power dry.’’ And when on the ﬁnal morning, the fog lifted from above the doomed city, and the hills all around it were swarming with the combined soldiery of the coming German empire, all men understood that the beginning of a new era for Europe and mankind was at its dawn. Even so, whenever I ‘‘can get into the quiet’’ of trust in God and hope for man, do I seem to hear the steady tramp of the gathering armies of the republic that is to be; each still a ‘‘nation within a nation,’’ but all under orders from the Captain of Salvation up in the heavens; approaching that union of races which shall make the real American people the chosen of God for the leadership of mankind through centuries to come. My prayer to God is that through no ‘‘invincible ignorance’’ concerning the past, no frivolity, no madness of impatience or failure in the common ways of life, this ‘‘nation within a nation’’ may be diverted from its providential line of march and be found wandering through unknown regions to its own confusion and the postponing yet farther the ﬁnal destiny of the land we love. For this republic is the land that has led this people forth out of the wilderness; and its starry ﬂag is the banner under which we all may one day ﬁnd ourselves looking upward together, hearing once more the last word of our great commander, ‘‘Let us have peace.’’ Source: Boston: New England Magazine, 1897. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

57. ‘‘Lift Every Voice and Sing,’’ or, ‘‘The Negro National Anthem’’ JAMES WELDON JOHNSON AND JOHN R. JOHNSON This song, ‘‘Lift Every Voice and Sing,’’ was ﬁrst written, titled, and deposited with the New England Conservatory of Music sometime between 1897 and 1900 by civil rights leader James Weldon Johnson and composer John Rosamond Johnson. It was sung for decades well into the twentieth century and throughout the Civil Rights era of the 1960s, particularly at rallies and demonstrations. Lift every voice and sing Till earth and heaven ring, Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;

58. Commentary on The Progress of Colored Women, by Mary Church Terrell, 1898 309

Let our rejoicing rise High as the listening skies, Let it resound loud as the rolling sea. Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us, Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us, Facing the rising sun of our new day begun Let us march on till victory is won. Stony the road we trod, Bitter the chastening rod, Felt in the days when hope unborn had died; Yet with a steady beat, Have not our weary feet Come to the place for which our fathers sighed? We have come over a way that with tears have been watered, We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered, Out from the gloomy past, Till now we stand at last Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast. God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, Thou who has brought us thus far on the way; Thou who has by Thy might Led us into the light, Keep us forever in the path, we pray. Lest our feet stray from the places, Our God, where we met Thee; Lest, our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee; Shadowed beneath Thy hand, May we forever stand. True to our GOD, True to our native land. Source: New York: Edward B. Marks Music Corporation, 1949.

58. Commentary on The Progress of Colored Women, by Mary Church Terrell, 1898 RICHARD T. GREENER The question of women’s rights surfaced with great force in the 1850s, and the ranks of this movement for American mothers, wives, and sisters swelled rapidly. A woman who was called Sojourner Truth, and sometimes called the American Sibyl, was the only visible representative of the black women in the United States by the time the movement celebrated its 50th birthday. This article appeared in the newspaper The Colored American. The distance from Sojourner Truth to Mary Church Terrell is really more than the forty or ﬁfty years of ﬁght for political recognition for women. It is an inﬁnitely

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greater distance, almost limitless space, between the centuries of debasement and degradation of a sex, and the meteor’s ﬂight of education, purity, aplomb, rare scholarly training and literary culture. The cold type cannot give to those who simply read the following earnest words, full of suggestive thought, of pathos and deepest reﬂection, that warmth and color which the occasion itself furnished—the brilliant setting, the entourage of intellectuality which made this the ﬁnest meeting of a most notable assembly. Nor can the ordinary reader perceive the severity of the test, which set this champion of her sex, in juxtaposition in forensic art, with such war-worn and battle-scarred veterans, as Miss Anthony, Mrs. Blake, Mrs. Shaw, Mrs. Foster, and with the able and eloquent representatives of Norway and Sweden. Never have I seen a more profound impression nor felt myself more stirred at the romance of the American negro as exempliﬁed in the deeper tragedy of the negro woman, who stands today not merely the forlorn hope of the race; but in her achievements and her attainments, in her sorrows, travailing, and aspirations, the highest type of the race—the portion, psychologically and physiologically, upon which its future mainly depends. That the opportunity was afforded Mary Church Terrell, to sound the note, and sing so strong, beautifully and pathetically the refrain of her struggling sex, is a source of extreme gratiﬁcation to those of us, who well know her advantages of training, travel and culture: but even we were surprised most agreeably, and delighted at the able treatment and the signal success of her womanly exposition, judged by its cordial reception and its evident effect upon the audience. Such occasions rarely occur in a race’s history and it is no small privilege to be permitted, as I am here, to call attention to one for the history of the race, whose annals unfortunately are only too brief and at best most imperfectly kept. Source: Richard T. Greener. The Colored American, Washington, D. C.: February 19, 1898. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, African American Pamphlet Collection.

59. A Century of Negro Migration CARTER G. WOODSON In 1889, President Benjamin Harrison opened up the Oklahoma Territory to homesteaders by proclamation. Intense race prejudice by the white immigrants and the rule of the mob prevented a larger number of Negroes from settling in that promising commonwealth. This is a brief history of a period well into the twentieth century by historian Carter Godwin Woodson. The exodus to the west was mainly directed to Kansas and neighboring States, the migration to the Southwest centered in Oklahoma and Texas, pioneering Negro laborers drifted into the industrial district of the Appalachian highland during the eighties and nineties and the inﬁltration of the discontented talented tenth affected largely the cities of the North. But now we are told that at the very time the mining districts of the North and West are being ﬁlled with blacks, the western planters are supplying their farms with them and that into some cities have gone sufﬁcient skilled and unskilled Negro workers to increase the black population more than one hundred per cent. Places in the North, where the black population has not only not

60. An address by Booker T. Washington, prin., Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute

increased but even decreased in recent years, are now receiving a steady inﬂux of Negroes. In fact, this is a nation-wide migration affecting all parts and all conditions. In spite of these interstate movements, the Negro still continued as a perplexing problem, for the country was unprepared to grant the race political and civil rights. Nominal equality was forced on the South at the point of the sword and the North reluctantly removed most of its barriers against the blacks. Source: Washington, D.C: The Association for the Study of Negro Life and History, 1918. Copyright C 1918 by Carter Godwin Woodson.

60. An address by Booker T. Washington, prin., Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Tuskegee, Alabama: delivered under the auspices of the Armstrong Association, Lincoln Day exercises, at the Madison Square Garden Concert Hall, New York, N.Y., February 12, 1898 On February 12, 1998, Booker T. Washington, principal of the Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute in Tuskegee, Alabama, delivered a speech under the auspices of the Armstrong Association, Lincoln Day exercises, at the Madison Square Garden Concert Hall in New York City. At this celebration, Washington advised African Americans to get training and employment in industrial and agricultural sciences, because he believed that would lead to a sense of accomplishment, self-respect, conﬁdence, and recognition of African American manhood and citizenship. Not long ago an old colored man in Alabama said to me: ‘‘I’s done quit libin in de ashes; I’s got my second freedom.’’ That remark meant that, this old man, by economy, hard work and proper guidance, after twenty years of severe struggle, had freed himself from debt, had paid for ﬁfty acres of land and built a comfortable house, was a tax-payer, that his two sons had been educated in academic and agricultural branches and that his daughter had received mental training in connection with sewing and cooking. With a few limitations, here was an American Christian home the results of individual effort and philanthropy. This Negro had been given the chance to get upon his feet; that is all which any Negro in America asks for. What position in state, letters or commerce the offspring of this family is to occupy, must be left to the future and the capacity of the race. That the race may have a new birth—a new freedom, in habits of thrift, economy and industrial development, I take to be the meaning of this meeting. If this be true, I believe that the second birth, this new baptism of the race into the best methods of agriculture, mechanical and commercial life and respect for labor, will bring blessings not less than those given us by our Great Emancipator, whose birthday we celebrate. Freedom from debt, comfortable homes, proﬁtable employment, intelligence, bring a self-respect and conﬁdence, without which no race can get on its feet. During the years of slavery we were shielded from competition. To-day, unless we prepare to compete with the outside world, we shall go to the wall as a race.

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Despite the curse of slavery, during those dark and bitter days, God was preparing the way for the solution of the race problem, along the line of industrial training. The slave master who wanted a house built or a suit of clothes made, went to a Negro carpenter or tailor. Every large slave plantation was, in a limited sense, an industrial school. On these plantations, thousands were taught common farming, others carpentry, others brick masonry, others sewing and cooking. Thus, at the beginning of our freedom, we found ourselves in possession of the common and skilled labor of the South. For twenty years after freedom, except in the case of Gen. Armstrong, our patron saint, whose name will go down in history linked with that of the immortal Lincoln, we overlooked what has been taking place on these plantations for more than two centuries. We were educated in the book, which was all right. But gradually those who learned to be skilled laborers during slavery, disappeared by death; then it was that we began to realize that we were training no colored youths to take their places. Then it was that another race from foreign lands began to take from us our birth-right—this legacy in the form of skilled labor, that was purchased by our forefathers at the price of 250 years in slavery. That we may hold our own in the industrial and business world, we must learn to put brains and skill into the common occupations about our doors, and we must learn to dignify common labor. It is an easy matter to project the mental development of a race beyond its ability to supply the wants thereby increased. In all parts of the country there should be a more vital and practical connection between the Negro’s educated brain and his opportunity for earning his daily living. In the present condition of my race, that knowledge of chemistry will mean most which will make forty bushels of corn grow where only twenty bushels have grown; that knowledge of mathematics will be most helpful that will construct a three-room cottage to replace the one-room cabin; that literature most potent which will make the girl the thorough mistress of modern household economy. The race sees it, the race wants it; you must ‘‘push the button and we will do the rest.’’ All this is not as an end, but as a means to the higher life. It is beyond our duty to set meets and bounds upon the aspirations and achievements of any race, but it is our duty to see that that foundation is ﬁtly laid. It is a hard thing to put much Christianity into a hungry man. There is one thing in which my race excels yours; when it comes to thinking you can excel us; in feeling we can excel you. I would not have my race change much in this respect, but I would have the man who likes to sing, shout and get happy in church on Sunday, taught to mix in during the week, with his religious zeal and fervor, habits of thrift, economy, and with land and a house of two or three rooms, a little bank account, just as the white man does. Industrial development, coupled with religious and mental development, will bring a change in the civil and political status of the South. And this, if for no other reason, should enlist the active aid and sympathy of every patriotic citizen in the North. Those who revere the name of Lincoln should see to it that we do not fail in the reaping of the full fruit of his life and martyrdom. In this matter let us take high ground. The Negro that has learned to respect a white man, is ten fold greater than a white man who hates a Negro. I propose that the Negro shall take his place upon the high and undisputed ground of usefulness and generosity, and that he invite the white man to step up and occupy this position with him. From this position I would have the Negro forgive the past and adjust himself to the present. From this position

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I would have him teach that no race can wrong another race without himself being dragged down. So long as my race is submerged in poverty and ignorance, so long, as with hooks of steel, will we drag down and retard the upward growth of the white man in the South. If the Negro’s degradation tempts one to steal his ballot, remember that it is the one who commits the theft that is permanently injured. You owe it, not less to yourselves than to your white brethren in the South, that this load be lifted from their shoulders. Industrial training will help to do it. Strike a common interest in the affairs of life, and prejudice melts away. A few weeks ago a black man of brains and skill, in Alabama, produced 261 bushels of sweet potatoes on a single acre of land; twice as much as any white man in that community had produced, and every one of the dozen white men who came to see how it was done, was ready to take off his hat to this black man. Not a bit of prejudice; against those 261 bushels of sweet potatoes. It is along this line that we are to settle this problem, and along this line it is slowly but surely working itself out. But let us not be deceived. It is not settled yet. A recent close investigation teaches me that in the Black Belt of the South we have not more than touched the edges. Says the Great Teacher, ‘‘I will draw all men unto Me.’’ How? Not by force, not by law, not by superﬁcial ornamentation. Following in the footsteps of the lowly Nazarene, we will continue, with your help, to work and wait till by the exercise of the higher virtues, by the products of our brains and hands, we shall make ourselves so important to the American people that they will accord us all the rights of manhood and citizenship by reason of our intrinsic worth. Source: Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A. P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

61. The Progress of Colored Women, 1898 MARY CHURCH TERRELL In this document, an address to the National American Women’s Suffrage Association at the Columbia Theater in Washington, D.C., on February 18, 1898, for its ﬁftieth anniversy, activist Mary Church Terrell recounted her role as the founding president of the National Association of Colored Women’s Clubs, a confederation of black women’s service clubs dedicated to instilling racial pride. This group’s goals included improving social and moral conditions in the African American community, and founding settlement houses for migrant women, orphanages, day nurseries, kindergartens, evening schools for adults, clinics, and homes for the aged. People attending the meeting included activists Susan B. Anthony, Isabella Beecher Hooker, Rev. Anna Shaw, Lillie Deverux, Mary Wright Sewell, and Carrie Chapman. Fifty years ago a meeting such as this, planned, conducted and addressed by women would have been an impossibility. Less than forty years ago, few sane men would have predicted that either a slave or one of his descendants would, in this century at least, address such an audience in the Nation’s Capital at the invitation of women representing the highest, broadest, best type of womanhood, that can be found anywhere in the world. Thus to me this semi-centennial of the National American Woman Suffrage Association is a double jubilee, rejoicing as I do, not

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only in the prospective enfranchisement of my sex but in the emancipation of my race. When Ernestine Rose, Lucretia Mott, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucy Stone and Susan B. Anthony began that agitation by which colleges were opened to women and the numerous reforms inaugurated for the amelioration of their condition along all lines, their sisters who groaned in bondage had little reason to hope that these blessings would ever brighten their crushed and blighted lives, for during those days of oppression and despair, colored women were not only refused admittance to institutions of learning, but the law of the States in which the majority lived made it a crime to teach them to read. Not only could they possess no property, but even their bodies were not their own. Nothing, in short, that could degrade or brutalize the womanhood of the race was lacking in that system from which colored women then had little hope of escape. So gloomy were their prospects, so fatal the laws, so pernicious the customs, only ﬁfty years ago. But, from the day their fetters were broken and their minds released from the darkness of ignorance to which for more than two hundred years they had been doomed, from the day they could stand erect in the dignity of womanhood, no longer bond but free, till tonight, colored women have forged steadily ahead in the acquisition of knowledge and in the cultivation of those virtues which make for good. To use a thought of the illustrious Frederick Douglass, if judged by the depths from which they have come, rather than by the heights to which those blessed with centuries of opportunities have attained, colored women need not hang their heads in shame. Consider if you will, the almost insurmountable obstacles which have confronted colored women in their efforts to educate and cultivate themselves since their emancipation, and I dare assert, not boastfully, but with pardonable pride, I hope, that the progress they have made and the work they have accomplished, will bear a favorable comparison at least with that of their more fortunate sisters, from the opportunity of acquiring knowledge and the means of selfculture have never been entirely withheld. For, not only are colored women with ambition and aspiration handicapped on account of their sex, but they are everywhere bafﬂed and mocked on account of their race. Desperately and continuously they are forced to ﬁght that opposition, born of a cruel, unreasonable prejudice which neither their merit nor their necessity seems able to subdue. Not only because they are women, but because they are colored women, are discouragement and disappointment meeting them at every turn. Avocations opened and opportunities offered to their more favored sisters have been and are tonight closed and barred against them. While those of the dominant race have a variety of trades and pursuits from which they may choose, the woman through whose veins one drop of African blood is known to ﬂow is limited to a pitiful few. So overcrowded are the avocations in which colored women may engage and so poor is the pay in consequence, that only the barest livelihood can be eked out by the rank and ﬁle. And yet, in spite of the opposition encountered, the obstacles opposed to their acquisition of knowledge and their accumulation of property, the progress made by colored women along these lines has never been surpassed by that of any people in the history of the world. Though the slaves were liberated less than forty years ago, penniless, and ignorant, with neither shelter nor food, so great was their thirst for knowledge and so herculean were their efforts to secure it, that there are today hundreds of negroes, many of them women, who are graduates, some of them having taken degrees from the best institutions of the land. From Oberlin, that friend of the oppressed, Oberlin, my dear alma mater, whose name will always be loved and whose praise will ever be

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sung as the ﬁrst college in the country which was just, broad and benevolent enough to open its doors to negroes and to women on an equal footing with men; from Wellesley and Vassar, from Cornell and Ann Arbor, from the best high schools throughout the North, East and West, Colored girls have been graduated with honors, and have thus forever settled the question of their capacity and worth. But a few years ago in an examination in which a large number of young women and men competed for a scholarship, entitling the successful competitor to an entire course through the Chicago University, the only colored girl among them stood ﬁrst and captured this great prize. And so, wherever colored girls have studied, their instructors bear testimony to their intelligence, diligence and success. With this increase of wisdom there has sprung up in the hearts of colored women an ardent desire to do good in the world. No sooner had the favored few availed themselves of such advantages as they could secure than they hastened to dispense these blessings to the less fortunate of their race. With tireless energy and eager zeal, colored women have, since their emancipation, been continuously prosecuting the work of educating and elevating their race, as though upon themselves alone devolved the accomplishment of this great task. Of the teachers engaged in instructing colored youth, it is perhaps no exaggeration to say that fully ninety per cent are women. In the back-woods, remote from the civilization and comforts of the city and town, on the plantations reeking with ignorance and vice, our colored women may be found battling with evils which such conditions always entail. Many a heroine, of whom the world will never hear, has thus sacriﬁced her life to her race, amid surroundings and in the face of privations which only martyrs can tolerate and bear. Shirking responsibility has never been a fault with which colored women might be truthfully charged. Indefatigably and conscientiously, in public work of all kinds they engage, that they may beneﬁt and elevate their race. The result of this labor has been prodigious indeed. By banding themselves together in the interest of education and morality, by adopting the most practical and useful means to this end, colored women have in thirty short years become a great power for good. Through the National Association of Colored Women, which was formed by the union of two large organizations in July, 1896, and which is now the only national body among colored women, much good has been done in the past, and more will be accomplished in the future, we hope. Believing that it is only through the home that a people can become really good and truly great, the National Association of Colored Women has entered that sacred domain. Homes, more homes, better homes, purer homes is the text upon which our have been and will be preached. Through mothers’ meetings, which are a special feature of the work planned by the Association, much useful information in everything pertaining to the home will be disseminated. We would have heart-to-heart talks with our women, that we may strike at the root of evils, many of which lie, alas, at the ﬁreside. If the women of the dominant race with all the centuries of education, culture and reﬁnement back of them, with all their wealth of opportunity ever present with them—if these women feel the need of a Mothers’ Congress that they may be enlightened as to the best methods of rearing children and conducting their homes, how much more do our women, from whom shackles have but yesterday fallen, need information on the same vital subjects? And so throughout the country we are working vigorously and conscientiously to establish Mothers’ Congresses in every community in which our women may be found.

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Under the direction of the Tuskegee, Alabama, branch of the National Association, the work of bringing the light of knowledge and the gospel of cleanliness to their benighted sisters on the plantations has been conducted with signal success. Their efforts have thus far been conﬁned to four estates, comprising thousand of acres of land, on which live hundreds of colored people, yet in the darkness of ignorance and the grip of sin, miles away from churches and schools. Under the evil inﬂuences of plantation owners, and through no fault of their own, the condition of the colored people is, in some sections to-day no better than it was at the close of the war. Feeling the great responsibility resting upon them, therefore, colored women, both in organizations under the National Association, and as individuals are working with might and main to afford their unfortunate sisters opportunities of civilization and education, which without them, they would be unable to secure. By the Tuskegee club and many others all over the country, object lessons are given in the best way to sweep, dust, cook, wash and iron, together with other information concerning household affairs. Talks on social purity and the proper method of rearing children are made for the beneﬁt of those mothers, who in many instances fall short of their duty, not because they are vicious and depraved, but because they are ignorant and poor. Against the one-room cabin so common in the rural settlements in the South, we have inaugurated a vigorous crusade. When families of eight or ten, consisting of men, women and children, are all huddled together in a single apartment, a condition of things found not only in the South, but among our poor all over the land, there is little hope of inculcating morality or modesty. And yet, in spite of these environments which are so destructive of virtue, and though the safeguards usually thrown around maidenly youth and innocence are in some sections withheld from colored girls, statistics compiled by men, not inclined to falsify in favor of my race, show that immorality among colored women is not so great as among women in countries like Austria, Italy, Germany, Sweden and France. In New York City a mission has been established and is entirely supported by colored women under supervision of the New York City Board. It has in operation a kindergarten, classes in cooking and sewing, mothers’ meetings, mens’ meetings, a reading circle and a manual training school for boys. Much the same kind of work is done by the Colored Woman’s League and the Ladies Auxiliary of this city, the Kansas City League of Missouri, the Woman’s Era Club of Boston, the Woman’s Loyal Union of New York, and other organizations representing almost every State in the Union. The Phyllis Wheatley Club of New Orleans, another daughter of the National Association, has in two short years succeeded in establishing a Sanatorium and a Training School for nurses. The conditions which caused the colored women of New Orleans to choose this special ﬁeld in which to operate are such as exist in many other sections of our land. From the city hospitals colored doctors are excluded altogether, not even being allowed to practice in the colored wards, and colored patients—no matter how wealthy they are—are not received at all, unless they are willing to go into the charity wards. Thus the establishment of a Sanatorium answers a variety of purposes. It affords colored medical students an opportunity of gaining a practical knowledge of their profession, and it furnishes a well-equipped establishment for colored patients who do not care to go into the charity wards of the public hospitals. The daily clinics have been a great blessing to the colored poor. In the operating department, supplied with all the modern appliances, two hundred operations have

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been performed, all of which have resulted successfully under the colored surgeonin-chief. Of the eight nurses who have registered, one has already passed an examination before the State Medical Board of Louisiana, and is now practicing her profession. During the yellow fever epidemic in New Orleans last summer, there was a constant demand for Phyllis Wheatley nurses. By indefatigable energy and heroic sacriﬁce of both money and time, these noble women raised nearly one thousand dollars, with which to defray the expenses of the Sanatorium for the ﬁrst eight months of its existence. They have recently succeeded in securing from the city of New Orleans an annual appropriation of two hundred and forty dollars, which they hope will soon be increased. Dotted all over the country are charitable organizations for the aged, orphaned and poor, which have been established by colored women; just how many, it is difﬁcult to state. Since there is such an imperative need of statistics, bearing on the progress, possessions, and prowess of colored women, the National Association has undertaken to secure this data of such value and importance to the race. Among the charitable institutions, either founded, conducted or supported by colored women, may be mentioned the Hale Inﬁrmary of Montgomery, Alabama; the Carrie Steel Orphanage of Atlanta; the Reed Orphan Home of Covington; the Haines Industrial School of Augusta in the State of Georgia; a Home for the Aged of both races at New Bedford and St. Monica’s Home of Boston in Massachusetts; Old Folks’ Home of Memphis, Tenn.; colored Orphan’s Home, Lexington, Ky., together with others of which time forbids me to speak. Mt. Meigs Institute is an excellent example of a work originated and carried into successful execution by a colored woman. The school was established for the beneﬁt of colored people on the plantations in the black belt of Alabama, because of the 700,000 negroes living in that State, probably 90 per cent are outside of the cities; and Waugh was selected because in the township of Mt. Meigs, the population is practically all colored. Instruction given in this school is of the kind best suited to the needs of those people for whom it was established. Along with their scholastic training, girls are taught everything pertaining to the management of a home, while boys learn practical farming, carpentering, wheel-wrighting, blacksmithing, and have some military training. Having started with almost nothing, only eight years ago, the trustees of the school now own nine acres of land, and ﬁve buildings, in which two thousand pupils have received instruction—all through the courage the industry and sacriﬁce of one good woman. The Chicago clubs and several others engage in rescue work among fallen women and tempted girls. Questions affecting or legal status as a race are also constantly agitated by our women. In Louisiana and Tennessee, colored women have several times petitioned the legislatures of their respective States to repeal the obnoxious ‘‘Jim Crow Car’’ laws, nor will any stone be left unturned until this iniquitous and unjust enactment against respectable American citizens be forever wiped from the statutes of the South. Against the barbarous Convict Lease System of Georgia, of which negroes, especially the female prisoners, are the principal victims, colored women are waging a ceaseless war. By two lecturers, each of whom, under the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union has been National Superintendent of work among colored people, the cause of temperance has for many years been eloquently espoused. In business, colored women have had signal success. There is in Alabama a large milling and cotton business belonging to and controlled entirely by a colored woman who has sometimes as many as seventy-ﬁve men in her employ. In Halifax,

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Nova Scotia, the principal ice plant of the city is owned and managed by one of our women. In the professions we have dentists and doctors, whose practice is lucrative and large. Ever since the publication, in 1773, of a book entitled ‘‘Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral,’’ by Phyllis Wheatley, negro servant of Mr John Wheatley of Boston, colored women have from time to time given abundant evidence of literary ability. In sculpture we are represented by a woman upon whose chisel Italy has set her seal of approval; in painting, by Bougerean’s pupil, whose work was exhibited in the last Paris Salon, and in Music by young women holding diplomas from the ﬁrst conservatories in the land. And, ﬁnally, as an organization of women nothing lies nearer the heart of the National Association than the children, many of whose lives, so sad and dark, we might brighten and bless. It is the kindergarten we need. Free kindergartens in every city and hamlet of this broad land we must have, if the children are to receive from us what it is our duty to give. Already during the past year kindergartens have been established and successfully maintained by several organizations, from which most encouraging reports have come. May their worthy example be emulated, till in no branch of the Association shall the children of the poor, at least, be deprived of the blessings which ﬂow from the kindergarten alone. The more unfavorable the environments of children, the more necessary is it that steps be taken to counteract baleful inﬂuences on innocent victims. How imperative is it then that as colored women, we inculcate correct principles and set good examples for our own youth, whose little feet will have so many thorny paths of prejudice temptation, and injustice to tread. The colored youth is vicious we are told, and statistics showing the multitudes of our boys and girls who crowd the penetentiaries and ﬁll the jails appall and dishearten us. But side by side with these facts and ﬁgures of crime I would have presented and pictured the miserable hovels from which these youth criminals come. Make a tour of the settlements of colored people, who in many cities are relegated to the most noisome sections permitted by the municipal government, and behold the mites of humanity who infest them. Here are our little ones, the future representatives of the race, fairly drinking in the pernicious example of their elders, coming in contact with nothing but ignorance and vice, till at the age of six, evil habits are formed which no amount of civilizing or Christianizing can ever completely break. Listen to the cry of our children. In imitation of the example set by the Great Teacher of men, who could not offer himself as a sacriﬁce, until he had made an eternal plea for the innocence and helplessness of childhood, colored women are everywhere reaching out after the waifs and strays, who without their aid may be doomed to lives of evil and shame. As an organization, the National Association of Colored Women feels that the establishment of kindergartens is the special mission which we are called to fulﬁll. So keenly alive are we to the necessity of rescuing our little ones, whose noble qualities are deadened and dwarfed by the very atmosphere which they breathe, that the ofﬁcers of the Association are now trying to secure means by which to send out a kindergarten organizer, whose duty it shall be both to arouse the conscience of our women, and to establish kindergartens, wherever the means therefore can be secured. And so, lifting as we climb, onward and upward we go, struggling and striving, and hoping that the buds and blossoms of our desires will burst into glorious fruition ere long. With courage, born of success achieved in the past, with a keen sense of the responsibility which we shall continue to assume, we look forward to a future

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large with promise and hope. Seeking no favors because of our color, nor patronage because of our needs, we knock at the bar of justice, asking an equal chance. Source: Washington, D.C.: Smith Brothers, Printers, 1898. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

62. The Literary souvenir, Volume 1, 1898 MISS ROSENA C. PALMER, MISS LIZZIE L. NELSON, MISS LIZZIE B. WILLIAMS … [ET AL.] This is a collection of uplifting essays that deal with the African American experience, written by various African American women. They cover a wide variety of subjects, including temperance, stepping stones to higher things, diligence as the secret of success, and a college education. These kinds of essays were popular, particularly in black newspapers, sermons, and other communications aimed at instilling racial pride in communities where such was difﬁcult to uphold because society thwarted any kind of self-respect or positive images of the Negro in America. VIEWS OF THE YOUNG by Anonymous To say that this little volume is issued to no purpose would be false. The reasons on the part of the collector are manifold and therefore must be abridged. I. A stimulus to the authors. II. An incentive to the readers. III. Godly inspiration to the learner. Read your own thoughts over and over and those of your race; read them critically. Make comparisons, as you read, with the thoughts of other men and others races, and the improvement will be well worth the undertaking. Many are averse to the publication of their thoughts because of failure to cope with others, who have had greater opportunities and a more extended experience. To those it may be said that the extremely doubtful and unduly reticent very seldom accomplish much in this life. The young people who have taken the risk, and have launched upon the literary sea, ought to be encouraged by an extended patronage. We pray heaven’s benedictions upon them and their efforts for good unto their lives, end. Intemperance is the most fruitful source of domestic strife, poverty, immorality, degradation, disease and crime, and every Christian is bound in loyalty of Christ to discontinue whatever is ruinous to the bodies and souls of men. It is hard for those who are advanced in life to begin new ways. The power of habit is strong. How often have we seen or heard of the wine cup being passed in social gatherings? It is the cause of many a man becoming a drunkard. In like way women who have a mistaken notion about hospitality, or who from some inability are unable to resist the persuasion that drink is necessary to strengthen, fall into habits that are not ladylike. She whom nature and religion mark out as the children’s truest and most unselﬁsh guardian is thus unﬁt for a mother’s place. Parents sometimes bequeath to their children a hereditary taste for drink. Intemperance destroys life. In many instances intemperate persons are often picked up dead. There is no doubt that the

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liquor they drank was the cause of their death. It is said that seventy thousand intemperate persons die annually in this country. On this account no insurance can be taken on their lives, When this command was given to all ‘‘Thou shall not kill,’’ it meant that life should not be taken by alcoholic drinks just as much as by arsenic, opium or any other way. Intemperance violates no civil law, but is the means of self destruction. We should do nothing to injure our health. God forbids any practice by which moral nature is degraded. Gospel temperance therefore requires us to keep our bodies pure. Some believe that drinking intoxicating liquor is a ‘‘lawful indulgence.’’ But there is no law for this indulgence. There is a law of gospel temperance which should guard us against it. Some claim that a drink of liquor makes one feel good, but I cannot see how that is, for some shout, sing, ﬁght, and swear; sometimes they are often helpless and senseless. This feeling amounts to nothing. It would be far better if they would ﬁnd some other way of feeling good. The work of temperance exists almost wholly among men. But women ought to engage in it, for they are the real suffers from intemperance. Whose heart bears the burden of sorrow when the intoxicated husband enters the home? She bears the burden of poverty and disgrace. For instance, see what a wretched home the intoxicating cup makes for women, when it should be the centre of every attraction, but is a scene of madness and cruelty. The intoxicated husband is often inoffensive and kind until he reaches home; then the reign of the demon of his crazed brain commences. His amiable nature changes to fury. Children ﬂee from the presence of their father, often the whole family is turned out of doors in the night and women often dragged by the hair. These scenes occur among the rich in the mansions as well as in dirty hovels. Alcoholic drink is no respecter of persons. What would a man think to see his wife or sister drinking in company with other women? Bible in the mother tongue, but one man Wycliffe. No learned society discovered America, but one man Columbus. No great staff of generals led the French forces on to victory, but one woman Joan of Arc. To no assembly of philosophers do we owe the existence of our Howard to-day, but to the indomitable will and untiring energy of one man, General O. O. Howard. The same thing is true of every great step in the progress of mankind. Step by step gradually they increased. It is said some men are born great, some achieve greatness, some have greatness thrust upon them. In this day few are born great and still fewer are those who have honors cast upon them. There are more ways than one to step higher. From the instructions of nature within us we are obliged to love virtue, justice and morality, to conquer self and allow no passion to become our master, to keep in mind the words of Carlisle, ‘‘Remember now and always that life is no idle dream but a solemn reality based upon and encompassed by eternity. Find out your task, stand to it; the night cometh when no man can work. The present alone is ours to do with as we will.’’ With the sped arrow and the spoken word past opportunities come not back. We have no time to lose. Opportunity has hair in front, behind she is bald; if once suffered to escape, you can never overtake her. As we enjoy and welcome the seasons as they come and go—so let us welcome and seize every opportunity that presents itself. As the years roll on each year we are stepping higher. Thus far our step has been ﬁrm and steady; from 1885 to 1895 have we labored dilligently and earnestly and can we not make our step still higher? The great future before us is full of complicated inﬂuences, the great problems of the country are to be solved. Great

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dragons red with blood are already upon the surface of the waters. This is a crisis when we know not who our neighbors are. Inmates are treated as strangers, and friends as enemies. The ocean has an intimate connection with the progress of nations. In 1492 there was a young sea captain of Genoa who had spent the early part of his life upon the waves. He was enterprising, and ambitious not to conquer kingdoms, but to discover new realms; his greatest foe was ignorance. It was thought that to comply with his request was not only a loss of money, but a loss of life. If a century later with all the blaze of art, science and learning, the most learned men ridiculed the idea of the earth revolving around the sun, how could prejudiced priests during the time of Columbus believe that the unknown ocean could be crossed and the voyage when made would open to them inexhaustible treasure; But all was clear to the scientiﬁc mariner. We are not always understood by those we labor to assist. All great movements meet success through courage and sacriﬁce. Personal security, individual liberty, and constitutional freedom have been attained through untiring effort. ‘‘DILIGENCE THE SECRET OF SUCCESS’’ By Miss Frankie L. Ellington ‘‘See’st thou a man diligent in his business, he shall not stand before mean men, he shall stand before Kings.’’ As we look above and around us upon the blue vaulted heavens, the stars, the moon, the sun, and the myriad of worlds that move in their appointed orbits, we behold a scene such as the aged Kepler beheld in telescopic visions when he gave utterance to the imperishable sentiment. ‘‘O God, I think thy thoughts after Thee.’’ We behold upon the earth, the trees, the ﬂowers, the birds, the ants, the rivers, the rivulets, and the rills that empty themselves into old ocean’s arms. As we gaze into the bowels of the earth upon the hidden secrets and treasures there buried in untold ages, even while the morning stars sang together, we at once recognize the inﬁnite wisdom and industry which placed them there for the convenience, comfort, and happiness of man. The diligent man has snatched the lightning from the clouds and harnessed it, he has scaled the mountain and levelled it, he has blazed the forest and there built mansions and temples of worship and established laws and governments. He has measured the starry vaults and computed their time and distance, he has delved into the bowels of the earth for coal, iron, marble, brass and for such secrets of nature that give to us to-day the natural sciences which have not only beautiﬁed and adorned man but have made the close of the nineteenth century the most brilliant in arts and sciences, even surpassing the literary ages of Pericles, Augustus and Elizabeth. The thought and literature of which have been admired and studied through the generations even to our own enlightened time. Says the accomplished philosopher Locke, ‘‘If heaven were to offer me truth in one hand, and the search after truth in the other, I would prefer the search after truth.’’ In all ages of the world the dilligent man alone has achieved success for us. In the language of Pope, ‘‘who would have pearls must dive below.’’ And the poet Longfellow bears out this magniﬁcent idea when he says,

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‘‘In the broad ﬁelds of battle, In the bivouac of life, Be not like dumb driven cattle, Be a hero in the strife.’’ Life is a battle, a warfare, and he is most who achieves most. But let us ask here, who does not admire even now the writing of Homer, Virgil, Livy and others of the past, of Shakespeare, Milton and Cowper of the middle present, of Addison and Irving of the still more recent present? Burk once said. ‘‘What shadows we are and what shadows we pursue. This is agnosticism and against the real and true purpose of life, for, ‘‘Life is real, life is earnest, And the grave is not its goal.’’ The magniﬁcent and permanent achievements of the nineteenth century are the results of enlightened efforts. The astounding inventions and discoveries of Edison alone in electricity which have added so much to the comfort and happiness of man, show that we should always be up and doing, for God alone helps him who helps himself. The moral, religious and intellectual structure reared under the guidance of the sainted Allen who among all men irrespective of color can proclaim the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man is an indisputable fact of the secret of success for this grand old church. The results of negro brain virtue and diligence extend from ocean to ocean and even into the islands of the sea. We point with pride and satisfaction to Douglas, Langston, Price and Dickens who were the tribunes of the people and who have registered their names among those immortal souls who were not born to die. After thirty years of freedom our people by thrift and industry have acquired ﬁve hundred thousand dollars in property; and they are distinguished as theologicans, physicians, lawyers and prosperous merchants, and in short they are worthily ﬁlling every avenue of industry which leads to fame and distinction. ‘‘Let us then be up and doing, With a heart for any fate, Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.’’ for dilligence is the secret of success.

A COLLEGE EDUCATION NOT BEYOND THE REACH OF THE POOR By Miss Ruth I. Carter Our country has so developed in arts, sciences and literature that it now possesses an abundance of facilities in its increased numbers of educational men and women, colleges, seminaries and universities, so that a thorough college training is now in easy reach of all people, the poor as well as the rich.

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During the days of Washington, Franklin and their contemporaries, many hundred would have contradicted the statement that a college education is not beyond the reach of the poor; but the achievements of many poor young men and women have proven the assertion since to be true. Even in the days of the fathers those who were poor demonstrated the fact that wealth is not the only important factor to insure a college college training, but nothing short of will power. He who wills to learn and to reach the highest possible attainment in this life, even though he is very poor, yet blessed with good health, will not stop shorter than the top round of the ladder. Nothing is more admirable in man than an indomitable will to acquire a Christian education. Let such a one continue striking, he will sooner or later reach the desired goal. When Waites McIntosh of Arkausas, a native of our own S. C., married he knew but little about, books the same being a diligent reader of the Bible. But all along he persistently vowed that he was going to be a man, and he continued to study and to know. The news came to us last June on a printed program of Philander Smith College that Waites was one of the College graduates for that session. In spite of obstacles he passed on. It was not dress he was after but a fertile mind. The expenses in many of our Colleges are so little yet the schools are good, that it is needless for a person to try to frame an excuse. If he or she is healthy and strong and has the will, success is sure. Many of those who have lived before us and shook the world with power and ability were those who were no better off than some of those among us whose intention is to stop school as soon as they ﬁnish a Normal education. Be this far from you, from any of us. The education of Normal graduates is so poor nowadays that they cannot be considered any longer up stairs or at the top. Truly there is room at the top. But that means beyond the Normal course. Look around among College presidents and professors, and you will ﬁnd those who will be able to corroborate this fact that a college education is not beyond the reach of the poor. They have swallowed the pill themselves, and while it was once bitter and undergoing the ordeal it is now sweet, for they are reaping the fruits of their labor and are able to get more of the necessaries of life and receive the recognition of those who are in high life and the best society. They demand the respect of the ‘‘rich and wellto-do’’ because of this acknowledged ability. If we have a desire to doubt that a college education is beyond the reach of the poor, refer to such men as Franklin, Lincoln. Douglas, J.D. Whittaker, Arnett and our worthy president W. D. Chappelle, and others, whom time will not permit me to mention. Benjamin Franklin was one of the poorest boys of his day, but his poverty was no excuse; his aspirations were lofty. He continued to press forward and at last made a mark. Before his death he helped to draft the Declaration of Independence. In his eighty-second year he was a member of the Constitutional Convention, and at his death twenty thousand persons assembled to do honor to his memory. Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ was born very poor, and wandered about as the poorest of men; and we see that his poverty did not prohibit him from attaining great heights. Let us think no longer that a poor boy or girl cannot receive a college education. When we see the eminence that has been attained by the poorest boys and girls, is it not better to be born poor? We will repeat that a college education is not beyond the reach of the poor.

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FAME By Miss Estelle Thompson. Fame is indeed something worthy of praise, and he who has reached the top of the ladder of fame ranks foremost among his fellow men. Yet vanity is a great vice and enters as a detriment into that which is good. Men struggle continually for earthly fame, but it is only an unreal thing or a passing shadow. To obtain the topmost round of this ladder, some of us struggle continually the greater part of our natural lives, and when we look at those who are said to be at the top we ﬁnd them still looking forward to higher things; thus we ﬁnd it all vanity. Fame acquired by goodness is very naturally freed from vanity. We therefore should aspire to that fame which is beyond this life. That fame which is permanent and into which the vice of vanity never enters. Why should vanity enter into that which we cannot control? The most renowned characters presented us by historians have, in the twinkling of an eye, woefully exchanged places with the most secluded of their race. Those renowned for wealth have been reduced to pauperism, those renowned for deeds have allowed vice to enter into their inmost hearts, and thus totally destroyed every sentiment of good. There seems to be a principle within the minds of men that at certain stages of life seems to exert itself toward some effort of human greatness. If it were not for this principle we would, doubtless, be surrounded by a stagnation of things. We would not have perhaps the many improvements and developments that we see around and about us. But may it not be truthfully said that even in these things we might write in large letters ‘‘All is Vanity.’’ For all these things and the earthly glory they create, as well as the inventors and discoverers of them, must pass away from time. Once an old baron gave a grand banquet. In the midst of the festivities, in the midst of the wine and the music and the gay garlands, he requested the seer to write some inscription of the wall in memory of the occasion. The seer wrote, ‘‘This too must pass away.’’ And where are they tonight, the gay retainers of that festive hall? Like the blooming rose, like the waxen candle’s light, they have all passed away from time. How foolish that men have hazarded their lives, sacriﬁced the comforts of their homes, destroyed the peace of their country, and ruined their souls to all eternity, and all for an earthly name. And what has it proﬁted them? In many instances little good has been done. And again would I not be asserting the truth, if I should say, that men live more for an earthly name, more that they might get a great name, than for the real good they might do their fellow-men. And you will ﬁnd on a careful search that this unrestrained principle, or inﬂamed passion, works itself into every phase of human society. We have all felt its withering touch. But what proﬁt is it to gain a great name I ask? One says, It makes the world respect you, and people speak well of you, they praise you to the skies. Everywhere you will be called a great statesman, philosopher, a great inventor and discoverer of something that will be of great use to the present condition of things. That all may be true, but what real good is it to you, when perhaps, in principle and character you may be far behind the most humble whose life may be actuated by the proper motives. WORK WINS By Miss Ruth A. Croft Nothing has ever been accomplished in life without an effort. That effort is called work.

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The question arise, what is work? To work is to overcome resistance. There are two kinds of work, mental and physical. If we attempt to lift a ton weight, no matter how we fatigue ourselves we can not move it. Nothing is won: but if we try to lift a ten pound weight we can move it without any trouble. Something is won: therefore we work because we overcome resistance. When we try to learn a hard lesson and succeed. our mental powers overcome the resistance and we have won it. Mental work has given us our presidents, our statesmen, our orators, our preachers and teachers; while physical work gave us our carpenters, farmers and machinists: all of these overcame resistance. Look at the farmer, the most independent of men. What gave him his independence? Ask him and he’ll say work. What won the American independence? It was both mental and physical work. For instance, take our state, what gave it its grandeur? It was work. No one can ever say that work doesn’t win, for it has won us our education and liberty. To attain to any degree of eminence it requires earnest efforts. Thriftless individuals enjoy nothing in common with other men, because they have not energy enough. If we want to advance in our studies or attain to any standard of excellence of character we must work. If the farmer wants an abundant harvest, he must work, else he will have no harvest. If a man would make himself a scholar he must apply himself diligently to his books, for he can gain no superiority without work, for ‘‘there is no excellence without labor’’. The adage: ‘‘Labor and perseverance conquer all things’’ is true. Many boys and girls enter school with the intention of ﬁnishing the course of study outlined, but fail because they are not willing to work and persevere that they might win the object of their hope. Those who have risen highest in science, invention and literature are those who labor hardest. ‘‘The hand of the diligent shall rule.’’ Those who have done much good are the men who had to work despite disadvantages. The world’s history is full of the triumphs of those who had to ﬁght from beginning to end for recognition. Burns, the poet, was a day laborer. Rare Ben. Johnson was a brick-layer. Andrew Johnson, president of the United States, was a tailor. These men dreamed of their future greatness and did not stop in their efforts until they won a name in the world. They willed success and won it. Then, classmates and friends, the road to human success lies along the old highway of steadfast work and well-doing, and they who are the most zealous and work in the truest spirit will be the most successful. Then let us apply ourselves diligently and ernestly to whatever we may choose as our life work; for we all have a life work to perform. If we are forced by circumstance to earn our daily bread, let us use every moment at our disposal to enrich the mind and remember that work wins. ROUGH GOLD OR POLISHED BRASS By Miss Alice B. McLeod In the early civilization, when man was searching for wealth, he found many metals, each useful in its own way, but the most valuable was gold.

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In his search, he also produced brass, which though not so costly and beautiful, is very valuable because of its hardness and usefulness. Gold in the rough is not very attractive, because it is alloyed with other metals which cast a ﬁlm over its beautiful color. We who know nothing of metals would pass a piece of rough gold by, deeming it not worth our attention. while to highly polished brass we should be attracted. We would grasp at it eagerly, thinking we had found the true metal, when in realty we had thrown that aside and taken brass. Then would the truism of this adage be seen. ‘‘All is not gold that glistens.’’ Only an experienced eye could see beneath that rough covering the wealth, and spy out in the other the dross. From time immemorial, there have been characters of gold and characters of brass, but never have such good illustrations of brass been given us as at the present. Indeed it will be no exaggeration to say that the nineteenth century is the age of brass. You think me pessimistic, but, indeed I am not. I reason from facts. This is the age when brass commands the highest premiums in our schools, societies, and even some churches. This is the age when political schemes are used in the church to secure sacred ofﬁces. This is the age when people are going wild over shiny trinkets, not noticing the real worth. This is the age when no value is placed on human life; when men throw aside essentials of true worth and toil on in search of glitter; when our law makers are simply ‘‘Nominative, I; Possessive, My or Mine; Objective, Me.’’ I dare not, and do not say there is no good in this age, because there is, but the good like Belshazzar has been ‘‘weighed in the balances and found wanting.’’ Prospectors looking for gold have thrown aside huge masses of black ore as useless, and toiled on in search of glitter, when in reality the black masses were worth more than all the glitter obtained. So it is in life. We have thrown aside as useless chances for doing good or making ourselves felt in the world, and when we think of them now we say, Oh! If I had only grasped those opportunities, how different it might have been. Then it is we realize the truth and bitterness of the oft repeated quotation— ‘‘Of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these, ‘It might have been.’’’ Our young ladies feel it a greater sin to break one of the laws of fashion or conventionality than to break one of the Ten Commandments. The young men think glitter will take with us, the ladies, so they polish the outside, and let the inside remain brass. The time has come when there must be a choice, and now, dear reader, which will you choose, rough gold or polished brass? Think not for a moment we object to polished gold for we do not. That is beautiful and precious, and we would rather have it than rough gold. It is only the tendency to esteem brass more than gold, that we object to. Let us not only select gold, but let us be gold. Let us not polish the manners, and let the heart go unpuriﬁed. Let us not white wash the outside of the house, and let the inside remain ﬁlthy. Let us remember that, ‘‘man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart’’ Gentle reader, please keep in mind that you are a ‘‘part of God’s great plan.’’ As such you must bravely ﬁght for right, and ‘‘do the duty that lies nearest thee.’’ In so

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doing, thou wilt lift thy race to a higher plane of civilization, and at the same time prepare thyself for living. ‘‘Be what thou seemest: live thy creed, Hold up to earth the touch divine; Be what thou prayest to be made: Let the Great Master’s step be thine.’’ ‘‘Fill up each hour with what will last, Buy up the moments as they go, The life above when this is past, Is but the ripe fruit of life below.’’ Anderson, S.C. THE BLIND POET By Miss Lottie C. Brooks ‘‘His life was gentle; and the elements So mix’d in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world. This was a man!’’ These words of Shakespeare, the great dramatic genius of the sixteenth century, tend so beautifully to illustrate the life and character of a pure and noble man, that we can truthfully apply them to Milton, ‘‘The Blind Poet.’’ Among the names rendered illustrious by intellectual superiority, of which the world justly boasts, his stands out conspiciously prominent. It is said that no one is ﬁt to estimate a great man who does not himself belong to that class. If this be true, how few would dare venture to judge ‘‘The Blind Poet.’’ This celebrated author was born of Puritan parents in the year 1608 in London. His father was a scrivener. He came of an honest and honorable line, and was distinguished by the undeviating integrity of his life. His mother was a noble Christian woman, highly esteemed and beloved by all who knew her. Their home in the very heart of old London was the abode of plenty, peace, culture and piety. This family engaged in conversations which not gossip; but such conversations as would tend to elevate and culture the mind, tempered by that sweet cheerfulness which made the poet’s home one of happiness. Great was the inﬂuence of his home life on the development of his genius. Young John was the pride and delight of his parents, although he was reared with a sister and a brother. But well might such a lad be the pride of his parents. He was remarkable for his beauty, sweet voice, engaging manner, and his musical and literary tastes. He must have inherited his physical, spiritual, and intellectual traits, as well as his tendency to weak vision. From early youth he was characterized by a lofty and elevated mind. His scholastic education began early under the direction of his father. At the age of twelve he was sent to St. Paul’s grammar school.

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He was a persevering, ambitious young man. By the time he was seventeen he was fully prepared for admission to Cambridge College. His true devotion to study was unabated. After having spent seven years of close application to study, at Cambridge, he received his degrees, not only for his scholarship, but for his character; yea, he moulded such a character, that as long as the world lasts, he will be looked up to as a model for mankind. Having ﬁnished his college career he spent ﬁve happy years of leisure at his father’s home. At that time, if Milton had but known his future, his years of rest and leisure would have seemed to him but an interlude in a life that was destined to know the stormiest scenes. About this time we ﬁnd our poet depressed with grief, his angel mother having passed into the realms beyond. He decides to spend several years visiting foreign lands, especially France and Italy. Before he had traveled very extensively, troubles arose in England and he, being true to his country, returned home at once to serve her. But, alas, how true it is that some men are branded as disturbers of peace because they dare to think for themselves. Sometimes centuries elapse before their worth is appreciated. Such was the case of Milton. But in his character we ﬁnd the noblest qualities combined in harmonious union; his mind was continually ﬁxed on the Almighty Judge. About the ﬁftieth year of his life he had the misfortune totally to lose his sight which had long been in process of decay. He felt the full force of this calamity, as is shown by several pathetic passages in his later works. In very early life Milton exhibited a turn for poetical display. It appears as though he gravely resolved to be a great man and achieved it. Few will now question whether Milton should be assigned a second place among his poetical brethren. His works are the richest treasures of the kind our language possesses; unless an exception be pleaded for the works of Shakespeare. Although his works abound in passages of the noblest poetry, he has an insight into the human heart which places him beyond all competition among the other poets. His poetry though lofty is wavering. Milton’s poetry is upborne by the power of native genius, elevated by all that tends to give force and dignity to the mind, and holds on a steadfast course. His Mask of Comus is a composition of itself sufﬁcient to place its author at the summit of English poetry. His L’Allegro, Penserosa and Lycidas are all written in such exquisite strains that though he had left no other monuments of his genius, his name would have been immortal. Paradise Lost, his greatest work, was composed while he sat in darkness, and though it was composed at a time of life when images of beauty and tenderness were beginning to fade, he adorned it with all that is most lovely and delightful in the physical and moral world. It will never cease to be admired while the world lasts. It is one of the noblest poems that ever wit of man produced in any age or nation. There was never anything so delightful as the music of Paradise Lost. It may be doubted that the Creator ever created one altogether so wonderful as Milton, taking into view his many virtues, his super-human genius, his zeal for truth, true piety, true freedom and his eloquence in displaying it. He stood alone and aloft in his times. His immortal fame is perpetual.

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And in the words of Wordsworth, ‘‘His soul was like a star, and dwelt apart; He had a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So did he travel on life’s common way, In cheerful godliness.’’ IF CHANCE ELEVATES INSTEAD OF MERIT, A FALL IS CERTAIN By Miss Ellen L. Knights ‘‘All things on earth rise but to fall, and ﬂourish to decay.’’ When chance, not merit, contributes to a man’s elevation, his fall may be considered certain. Hence, whatever fortune has raised to a height she has raised only that it may fall. If a man has been elevated to the very pinnacle of fortune, his foundation is not solid unless merit was the power that raised him. The loftiest pine is often agitated by the winds; the highest towers often rush to the earth with the heaviest fall; the lightning most frequently strikes the highest mountains; and those exalted by chance are most liable to the strokes of adversity. Whatever height you may reach, have the satisfaction of knowing that you have reached it on your merit. The lives of those elevated by chance are one long sham,—a perpetual makebelieve. They deceive the world so persistently that after having deceived themselves, they deceive posterity in their tombs. In days of yore people were esteemed in proportion to their merit. But oh. what changes have been brought about by time. Each passing year robs us of a share of what we possessed. Talent, beauty and health,—the most valuable possessions of human nature all fall a prey to the ravages of time. How often do persons obtain wealth by mere chance, which they dared not even hope for. But would that they could exclaim like those elevated on merit, ‘‘I have gained the palm but not without labor.’’ So whatever chance shall bring to you, bear it with an equal mind, for you cannot control the vicissitudes of fortune, and when your certain fall has come you will cry out ‘‘what have I done or where am I fallen?’’ Merit is the surest way of attaining honor. The general elevation of the inward powers of the human mind to a pure human wisdom is the universal purpose of education. Everywhere humanity feels this want; everywhere it struggles to satisfy it with labor and earnestness: for want of it men live restless lives and at death cry out that they have not fulﬁlled the purpose of their being. Let silence guard that height that has been raised by merit. ‘‘Leave its praises unexpressed, Leave its greatness to be guessed.’’ But take the wings of fancy and ascend to Fortune’s height. There touch thy dull goal of joyless gray and while awaiting thy destined fall hide thy shame beneath the ground. ‘‘I have gained the palm, but not without labor.’’ How sweet is the reward of labor. The earnestness with which we strive for it is but a light labor when we compare it with those of ancient times, for knowledge is no more a fountain sealed. Drink deep until the sins of slander, spite, gossip and emptiness die. What a grand

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satisfaction accompanies that one who can say that he is making his way through the world by the force of his own merit. A chance may either raise or sink a soul where merit is wanting and it lieth in a direction that may not easily be seen. Its work, therefore, is sudden. Merit works slowly and surely, laying ﬁrst a solid foundation upon which it builds. One may say the simple fact that chance has elevated me shows to the world that I have undergone no labor because from the foundation of the world there has been a tendency to look down upon labor. Oh, would he only reﬂect! Without man’s labor God had created the world in vain. Merit is that divine principle which has ﬁlled the earth with all the comforts and joys possessed by it, and is undoubtedly the instrument of happiness wherever it is found. Merit is gained by the co-operation of labor and intellect. Intellect is the head, labor, the right hand. Take away the hand and the head is a magazine of knowledge and ﬁre that is sealed up in eternal darkness. For the height to which fortune raises one has no foundation. Therefore he may ﬁnd himself at the very pinnacle of fortune, but a dreadful fall is certain. For as he did not rise step by step he will not descend in that way. Low, indeed, must be the state of that person who is content to drift through the world on chance, who has no ambition, no object for which to strive. Is it the end and aim of all humanity to accumulate wealth? How much greater, how much more lasting are the riches of the mind? If man were created for no other purpose than that of hoarding up treasures, then there would be no necessity for an education. But God bestowed upon him that wonderful machine, the brain, with the purpose that it should be trained and cultivated. We sometimes covet the height attained by others, but oh, could we see the foundation of that height! Let us then consider merit as the chief motive cause in a successful elevation, and leave success to set the seal upon height attained. Talent and opportunity may form the sides of the ladder on which we mount, but let the rounds be made of merit, that it may stand the wear and tear heaped upon it by the world. Let merit have no substitute. Let us take the eagle as an object of emulation and grow eminent by the power of merit. If you claim to have been raised to a certain height by the force of your merit, much is expected of you and much should lie in your power. While we may not produce the principle of merit, yet we may enforce the practice, and your daily acts will be seen registered that posterity may know that true merit will stand when chance shall have rotted in oblivion. Source: Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

63. A Negro Schoolmaster in the New South, 1899 W. E. BURGHARDT DUBOIS Scholar W. E. B. DuBois began his academic career as a school teacher in the hills of Tennessee 1885–1888). He had been a student at Fisk in that state as a young man. DuBois went on to earn the ﬁrst Ph.D. ever awarded to a black man in the United States. This is his rememberance of those early years in Tennessee. First, there was a teachers’ Institute at the county-seat; and there distinguished guests of the superintendent taught the teachers fractions and spelling and other mysteries,— white teachers in the morning, Negroes at night. A picnic now and then, and a supper, and the rough world was softened by laughter and song. I remember how.

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There came a day when all the teachers left the Institute, and began the hunt for schools. I learn from hearsay (for my mother was mortally afraid of ﬁrearms) that the hunting of ducks and bears and men is wonderfully interesting, but I am sure that the man who has never hunted a country school has something to learn of the pleasures of the chase. I see now the white, hot roads lazily rise and fall and wind before me under the burning July sun; I feel the deep weariness of heart and limb, as ten, eight, six miles stretch relentlessly ahead; I feel my heart sink heavily as I hear again and again, ‘‘Got a teacher? Yes.’’ So I walked on and on,—horses were too expensive,—until I had wandered beyond railways, beyond stage lines, to a land of ‘‘varmints’’ and rattlesnakes, where the coming of a stranger was an event, and men lived and died in the shadow of one blue hill. Sprinkled over hill and dale lay cabins and farmhouses, shut out from the world by the forests and the rolling hills toward the east. There I found at last a little school. Josie told me of it; she was a thin, homely girl of twenty, with a dark brown face and thick, hard hair. I had crossed the stream at Watertown, and rested under the great willows; then I had gone to the little cabin in the lot where Josie was resting on her way to town. The gaunt farmer made me welcome, and Josie, hearing my errand, told me anxiously that they wanted a school over the hill; that but once since the war had a teacher been there; that she herself longed to learn,—and thus she ran on, talking fast and loud, with much earnestness and energy. Next morning I crossed the tall round hill, lingered to look at the blue and yellow mountains stretching toward the Carolinas; then I plunged into the wood, and came out at Josie’s home. It was a dull frame cottage with four rooms, perched just below the brow of the hill, amid peach trees. The father was a quiet, simple soul, calmly ignorant, with no touch of vulgarity. The mother was different,—strong, bustling, and energetic, with a quick, restless tongue, and an ambition to live ‘‘like folks.’’ There was a crowd of children. Two boys had gone away. There remained two growing girls; a shy midget of eight; John, tall, awkward, and eighteen; Jim, younger, quicker, and better looking; and two babies of indeﬁnite age. Then there was Josie herself. She seemed to be the centre of the family: always busy at service or at home, or berry-picking; a little nervous and inclined to scold, like her mother, yet faithful, too, like her father. She had about her a certain ﬁneness, the shadow of an unconscious moral heroism that would willingly give all of life to make life broader, deeper, and fuller for her and hers. I saw much of this family afterward, and grew to love them for their honest efforts to be decent and comfortable, and for their knowledge of their own ignorance. There was with them no affectation. The mother would scold the father for being so ‘‘easy;’’ Josie would roundly rate the boys for carelessness; and all knew that it was a hard thing to dig a living out of a rocky side hill. I secured the school. I remember the day I rode horseback out to the commissioner’s house, with a pleasant young white fellow, who wanted the white school. The road ran down the bed of a stream; the sun laughed and the water jingled, and we rode on. ‘‘Come in,’’ said the commissioner,—come in. Have a seat. Yes, that certiﬁcate will do. Stay to dinner. What do you want a month?’’ Oh, thought I, this is lucky; but even then fell the awful shadow of the Veil, for they ate ﬁrst, then I—alone. The schoolhouse was a log hut, where Colonel Wheeler used to shelter his corn. It sat in a lot behind a rail fence and thorn bushes, near the sweetest of springs.

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There was an entrance where a door once was, and within, a massive rickety ﬁreplace; great chinks between the logs served as windows. Furniture was scarce. A pale blackboard crouched in the corner. My desk was made of three boards, reinforced at critical points, and my chair, borrowed from the landlady, had to be returned every night. Seats for the children,—these puzzled me much. I was haunted by a New England vision of neat little desks and chairs, but, alas, the reality was rough plank benches without backs, and at times without legs. They had the one virtue of making naps dangerous,—possibly fatal, for the ﬂoor was not to be trusted. It was a hot morning late in July when the school opened. I trembled when I heard the patter of little feet down the dusty road, and saw the growing row of dark solemn faces and bright eager eyes facing me. First came Josie and her brothers and sisters. The longing to know, to be a student in the great school at Nashville, hovered like a star above this child woman amid her work and worry, and she studied doggedly. There were the Dowells from their farm over toward Alexandria: Fanny, with her smooth black face and wondering eyes; Martha, brown and dull; the pretty girl wife of a brother, and the younger brood. There were the Burkes, two brown and yellow lads, and a tiny haughty-eyed girl. Fat Reuben’s little chubby girl came, with golden face and old gold hair, faithful and solemn. ‘Thenie was on hand early,—a jolly, ugly, good-hearted girl, who slyly dipped snuff and looked after her little bow-legged brother. When her mother could spare her, ‘Tildy came,—a midnight beauty, with starry eyes and tapering limbs; and her brother, correspondingly homely. And then the big boys: the hulking Lawrences; the lazy Neills, unfathered sons of mother and daughter; Hickman, with a stoop in his shoulders; and the rest. There they sat, nearly thirty of them, on the rough benches, their faces shading from a pale cream to a deep brown, the little feet bare and swinging, the eyes full of expectation, with here and there a twinkle of mischief, and the hands grasping Webster’s blue-back spelling-book. I loved my school, and the ﬁne faith the children had in the wisdom of their teacher was truly marvelous. We read and spelled together, wrote a little, picked ﬂowers, sang, and listened to stories of the world beyond the hill. At times the school would dwindle away, and I would start out. I would visit Mun Eddings, who lived in two very dirty rooms, and ask why little Lugene, whose ﬂaming face seemed ever ablaze with the dark red hair uncombed, was absent all last week, or why I missed so often the inimitable rags of Mack and Ed. Then the father, who worked Colonel Wheeler’s farm on shares, would tell me how the crops needed the boys; and the thin, slovenly mother, whose face was pretty when washed, assured me that Lugene must mind the baby. ‘‘But we’ll start them again next week.’’ When the Lawrences stopped, I knew that the doubts of the old folks about book-learning had conquered again, and so, toiling up the hill, and getting as far into the cabin as possible, I put Cicero pro Archia Poeta into the simplest English with local applications, and usually convinced them—for a week or so. On Friday nights I often went home with some of the children; sometimes to Doc Burke’s farm. He was a great, loud, thin Black, ever working, and trying to buy the seventy-ﬁve acres of hill and dale where he lived; but people said that he would surely fail, and the ‘‘white folks would get it all.’’ His wife was a magniﬁcent Amazon, with saffron face and shining hair, uncorseted and barefooted, and the children were strong and beautiful. They lived in a one-and-a-half-room cabin in the hollow of the farm, near the spring. The front room was full of great fat white beds, scrupulously neat; and there were bad chromos on the walls, and a tired centre-table. In

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the tiny back kitchen I was often invited to ‘‘take out and help’’ myself to fried chicken and wheat biscuit, ‘‘meat’’ and corn pone, string beans and berries. At ﬁrst I used to be a little alarmed at the approach of bed-time in the one lone bedroom, but embarrassment was very deftly avoided. First, all the children nodded and slept, and were stowed away in one great pile of goose feathers; next, the mother and the father discreetly slipped away to the kitchen while I went to bed; then, blowing out the dim light, they retired in the dark. In the morning all were up and away before I thought of awaking. Across the road, where fat Reuben lived, they all went outdoors while the teacher retired, because they did not boast the luxury of a kitchen. I liked to stay with the Dowells, for they had four rooms and plenty of good country fare. Uncle Bird had a small, rough farm, all woods and hills, miles from the big road; but he was full of tales,—he preached now and then,—and with his children, berries, horses, and wheat he was happy and prosperous. Often, to keep the peace, I must go where life was less lovely; for instance. ‘Tildy’s mother was incorrigibly dirty, Reuben’s larder was limited seriously, and herds of untamed bedbugs wandered over the Eddingses’ beds. Best of all I loved to go to Josie’s, and sit on the porch, eating peaches, while the mother bustled and talked: how Josie had bought the sewing-machine; how Josie worked at service in winter, but that four dollars a month was ‘‘mighty little’’ wages; how Josie longed to go away to school, but that it ‘‘looked like’’ they never could get far enough ahead to let her; how the crops failed and the well was yet unﬁnished; and, ﬁnally, how ‘‘mean’’ some of the white folks were. For two summers I lived in this little world; it was dull and humdrum. The girls looked at the hill in wistful longing, and the boys fretted, and haunted Alexandria. Alexandria was ‘‘town,’’—a straggling, lazy village of houses, churches, and shops, and an aristocracy of Toms, Dicks, and Captains. Cuddled on the hill to the north was the village of the colored folks, who lived in three or four room unpainted cottages, some neat and homelike, and some dirty. The dwellings were scattered rather aimlessly, but they centered about the twin temples of the hamlet, the Methodist and the Hard-Shell Baptist churches. These, in turn, leaned gingerly on a sadcolored schoolhouse. Hither my little world wended its crooked way on Sunday to meet other worlds, and gossip, and wonder, and make the weekly sacriﬁce with frenzied priest at the altar of the ‘‘old-time religion.’’ Then the soft melody and mighty cadences of Negro song ﬂuttered and thundered. I have called my tiny community a world, and so its isolation made it; and yet there was among us but a half-awakened common consciousness, sprung from common joy and grief, at burial, birth, or wedding; from a common hardship in poverty, poor land, and low wages; and, above all, from the sight of the Veil that hung between us and Opportunity. All this caused us to think some thoughts together; but these, when ripe for speech, were spoken in various languages. Those whose eyes thirty and more years before had seen ‘‘the glory of the coming of the Lord’’ saw in every present hindrance or help a dark fatalism bound to bring all things right in His own good time. The mass of those to whom slavery was a dim recollection of childhood found the world a puzzling thing: it asked little of them, and they answered with little, and yet it ridiculed their offering. Such a paradox they could not understand, and therefore sank into listless indifference, or shiftlessness, or reckless bravado. There were, however, some such as Josie, Jim, and Ben,—they to whom War, Hell, and Slavery were but childhood tales, whose young appetites had

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been whetted to an edge by school and story and half-awakened thought. Ill could they be content, born without and beyond the World. And their weak wings beat against their barriers,—barriers of caste, of youth, of life; at last, in dangerous moments, against everything that opposed even a whim. The ten years that follow youth, the years when ﬁrst the realization comes that life is leading somewhere,—these were the years that passed after I left my little school. When they were past, I came by chance once more to the walls of Fisk University, to the halls of the chapel of melody. As I lingered there in the joy and pain of meeting old school friends, there swept over me a sudden longing to pass again beyond the blue hill, and to see the homes and the school of other days, and to learn how life had gone with my school-children; and I went. Josie was dead, and the gray-haired mother said simply, ‘‘We’ve had a heap of trouble since you’ve been away.’’ I had feared for Jim. With a cultured parentage and a social caste to uphold him, he might have made a venturesome merchant or a West Point cadet. But here he was, angry with life and reckless; and when Farmer Durham charged him with stealing wheat, the old man had to ride fast to escape the stones which the furious fool hurled after him. They told Jim to run away; but he would not run, and the constable came that afternoon. It grieved Josie, and great awkward John walked nine miles every day to see his little brother through the bars of Lebanon jail. At last the two came back together in the dark night. The mother cooked supper, and Josie emptied her purse, and the boys stole away. Josie grew thin and silent, yet worked the more. The hill became steep for the quiet old father, and with the boys away there was little to do in the valley. Josie helped them sell the old farm, and they moved nearer town. Brother Dennis, the carpenter, built a new house with six rooms; Josie toiled a year in Nashville, and brought back ninety dollars to furnish the house and change it to a home. When the spring came, and the birds twittered, and the stream ran proud and full, little sister Lizzie, bold and thoughtless, ﬂushed with the passion of youth, bestowed herself on the tempter, and brought home a nameless child. Josie shivered, and worked on, with the vision of schooldays all ﬂed, with a face wan and tired,— worked until, on a summer’s day, some one married another; then Josie crept to her mother like a hurt child, and slept—and sleeps. I paused to scent the breeze as I entered the valley. The Lawrences have gone; father and son forever, and the other son lazily digs in the earth to live. A new young widow rents out their cabin to fat Reuben. Reuben is a Baptist preacher now, but I fear as lazy as ever, though his cabin has three rooms; and little Ella has grown into a bouncing woman, and is ploughing corn on the hot hillside. There are babies a plenty, and one half- witted girl. Across the valley is a house I did not know before, and there I found, rocking one baby and expecting another, one of my schoolgirls, a daughter of Uncle Bird Dowell. She looked somewhat worried with her new duties, but soon bristled into pride over her neat cabin, and the tale of her thrifty husband, the horse and cow, and the farm they were planning to buy. My log schoolhouse was gone. In its place stood Progress, and Progress, I understand, is necessarily ugly. The crazy foundation stones still marked the former site of my poor little cabin, and not far away, on six weary boulders, perched a jaunty board house, perhaps twenty by thirty feet, with three windows and a door that locked. Some of the window glass was broken, and part of an old iron stove lay mournfully under the house. I peeped through the window half reverently, and found things that were more familiar.

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The blackboard had grown by about two feet, and the seats were still without backs. The county owns the lot now, I hear, and every year there is a session of school. As I sat by the spring and looked on the Old and the New I felt glad, very glad, and yet— After two long drinks I started on. There was the great double log house on the corner. I remembered the broken, blighted family that used to live there. The strong, hard face of the mother, with its wilderness of hair, rose before me. She had driven her husband away, and while I taught school a strange man lived there, big and jovial, and people talked. I felt sure that Ben and ‘Tildy would come to naught from such a home. But this is an odd world; for Ben is a busy farmer in Smith County, ‘‘doing well, too,’’ they say, and he had cared for little ‘Tildy until last spring, when a lover married her. A hard life the lad had led, toiling for meat, and laughed at because he was homely and crooked. There was Sam Carlon, an impudent old skinﬂint, who had deﬁnite notions about niggers, and hired Ben a summer and would not pay him. Then the hungry boy gathered his sacks together, and in broad daylight went into Carlon’s corn; and when the hard- ﬁsted farmer set upon him, the angry boy ﬂew at him like a beast. Doc Burke saved a murder and a lynching that day. The story reminded me again of the Burkes, and an impatience seized me to know who won in the battle, Doc or the seventy-ﬁve acres. For it is a hard thing to make a farm out of nothing, even in ﬁfteen years. So I hurried on, thinking of the Burkes. They used to have a certain magniﬁcent barbarism about them that I liked. They were never vulgar, never immoral, but rather rough and primitive, with an unconventionality that spent itself in loud guffaws, slaps on the back, and naps in the corner. I hurried by the cottage of the misborn Neill boys. It was empty, and they were grown into fat, lazy farm hands. I saw the home of the Hickmans, but Albert, with his stooping shoulders, had passed from the world. Then I came to the Burkes’ gate and peered through; the inclosure looked rough and untrimmed, and yet there were the same fences around the old farm save to the left, where lay twenty-ﬁve other acres. And lo! the cabin in the hollow had climbed the hill and swollen to a half-ﬁnished six-room cottage. The Burkes held a hundred acres, but they were still in debt. Indeed, the gaunt father who toiled night and day would scarcely be happy out of debt, being so used to it. Some day he must stop, for his massive frame is showing decline. The mother wore shoes, but the lionlike physique of other days was broken. The children had grown up. Rob, the image of his father, was loud and rough with laughter. Birdie, my school baby of six, had grown to a picture of maiden beauty, tall and tawny. ‘‘Edgar is gone,’’ said the mother, with head half bowed,—‘‘gone to work in Nashville; he and his father couldn’t agree.’’ Little Doc, the boy born since the time of my school, took me horseback down the creek next morning toward Farmer Dowell’s. The road and the stream were battling for mastery, and the stream had the better of it. We splashed and waded, and the merry boy, perched behind me, chattered and laughed. He showed me where Simon Thompson had bought a bit of ground and a home; but his daughter Lana, a plump, brown, slow girl, was not there. She had married a man and a farm twenty miles away. We wound on down the stream till we came to a gate that I did not recognize, but the boy insisted that it was ‘‘Uncle Bird’s.’’ The farm was fat with the growing crop. In that little valley was a strange stillness as I rode up; for death and marriage had stolen youth, and left age and childhood there. We sat and talked that night, after the chores were done. Uncle Bird was grayer, and his eyes did not see so

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well, but he was still jovial. We talked of the acres bought,—one hundred and twenty-ﬁve,—of the new guest chamber added, of Martha’s marrying. Then we talked of death: Fanny and Fred were gone; a shadow hung over the other daughter, and when it lifted she was to go to Nashville to school. At last we spoke of the neighbors, and as night fell Uncle Bird told me how, on a night like that, ‘Thenie came wandering back to her home over yonder, to escape the blows of her husband. And next morning she died in the home that her little bow-legged brother, working and saving, had bought for their widowed mother. My journey was done, and behind me lay hill and dale, and Life and Death. How shall man measure Progress there where the dark-faced Josie lies? How many heartfuls of sorrow shall balance a bushel of wheat? How hard a thing is life to the lowly, and yet how human and real! And all this life and love and strife and failure,—is it the twilight of nightfall or the ﬂush of some faint-dawning day? Thus sadly musing, I rode to Nashville in the Jim Crow car. Source: Atlantic Monthly, New York, 1899, Volume 83: pp. 99–104. Copyright C 1999, by the Rector and Visitors of the University of Virginia. Courtesy of The University of Virginia Library.

64. A prayer: words by B. G. Brawley, music by Arthur Hilton Ryder, 1899 B.G. Brawley, a student at Atlanta Baptist College, composed this short prayer in response to racial troubles in Georgia in 1899. With dignity. 1. Lord God, to whom our fathers pray’d To whom they did not pray in vain, And who for them assurance made, Though oft repeated their refrain. Hope of our race, again we cry. Draw near and help us, lest we die. 2 The battle rages ﬁerce and long, The wicked seem to triumph still; Yet all things to the Lord belong, And all must bow beneath His will. Lord God of old, again we cry, Draw near and help us, lest we die. 3 If brooding o’er the wrongs we grieve, Our hearts forget to turn to Thee; Or if they e’er do not believe That Thou in time hear our plea, Hope of our race, stand by us then. And help us ‘‘quit ourselves like men.’’ 4 As now we bend before Thy throne, Upon us send Thy truth and light;

65. The Hardwick Bill

From us all other hopes are ﬂownWe pray Thee, help us in the right. Father of lights, Thy mercy send Upon us, as we lowly bend. 5 Lord God, we pray Thee help us all To live in harmony and peace; Help us to listen to Thy call, And from all evil-doing cease. Hope of our people, hear our cry; Draw near and help us, lest we die. Source: Atlanta: Atlanta Baptist College Press, 1899. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

65. The Hardwick Bill: an interview in the Atlanta Constitution, 1900 BOOKER T. WASHINGTON This interview of Booker T. Washington in the Atlanta Constitution illustrates Washington’s eloquent demeanor in his response to the defeat of the Hardwick Bill, a bill that would have allowed the disenfranchisement of Negroes. He respectfully addresses the intellect of all Southerners, black and white in this brief interview. The Hardwick Bill was a measure introduced in the Georgia legislature for the purpose of disfranchising the colored people. While this Bill was before the Legislature, Principal Booker T. Washington gave the following interview to the Atlanta Constitution. The Bill was defeated in the Legislature, receiving only 3 votes in its favor in the lower House where it was introduced and 137 votes being cast against it. Professor Booker T. Washington, the head of the famous industrial school for colored youths at Tuskegee, and probably the foremost man of his race today, gave his views on the question of franchise restriction to a representative of the Constitution yesterday. Professor Washington spent the day in the city, having come here on business. When asked for an expression on the Hardwick bill, he said that he did not care to discuss that or any other speciﬁc measure, but on the subject of an educational qualiﬁcation restricting the ballot to the intelligence of the country, he had very decided views. ‘‘I dread the idea of seeming to intrude my views too often upon the public,’’ said Professor Washington, ‘‘but I feel that I can speak very frankly upon this subject, because I am speaking to the south and southern people. It has been my experience that when our southern people are convinced that one speaks from the heart and tries to speak that which he feels is for the permanent good of both races, he is always accorded a respectful hearing. No possible inﬂuence could tempt me to say that which I thought would tend merely to stir up strife or to induce my own people to return to the old time method of political agitation rather than give their time, as most of them are now doing, to the more fundamental principles of citizenship, education, industry and prosperity.

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‘‘The question of the rights and elevation of the negro is not left almost wholly to the south, as it has been long pleaded should be done,’’ added Professor Washington. ‘‘The south has over and over said to the north and her representatives have repeated it in congress, that if the north and the federal government would hands off, the south would deal justly and fairly with the negro. The prayer of the south has been almost wholly answered. The world is watching the south as it has never done before. ‘‘Not only have the north and the federal congress practically agreed to leave the matter of the negro’s citizenship in the hands of the south, but many conservative and intelligent negroes in recent years have advised the negro to cast his lot more closely with the southern white man and to cease a continued senseless opposition to his interests. This policy has gained ground to such an extent that the white man controls practically every state and every country and township in the south. ‘‘There is a feeling of friendship and mutual conﬁdence growing between the two races that is most encouraging. But in the midst of this condition of things one is surprised and almost astounded at the measures being introduced and passed by the various law-making bodies of the southern states. What is the object of the election laws? Since there is white domination throughout the south, there can be but one object in the passing of these laws—to disfranchise the negro. At the present time the south has a great opportunity as well as responsibility. Will she shirk this opportunity or will she look matters in the face and grapple with it bravely, taking the negro by the hand and seeking to lift him up to the point where he will be prepared for citizenship? None of the laws passed by any southern state, or that are now pending, will do this. These new laws will simply change the form of the present bad election system and widen the breach between the two races, when we might, by doing right, cement the friendship between them. ‘‘To pass an election law with an understanding clause simply means that some individual will be tempted to perjure his soul and degrade his whole life by deciding in too many cases that the negro does not ‘‘understand’’ the constitution and that a white man, even though he be an ignorant white foreigner with but recently acquired citizenship does ‘‘understand’’ it. In a recent article President Hadley, of Yale university, covers the whole truth when he says ‘‘We cannot make a law which shall allow the right exercise of a discretionary power and prohibit its wrong use.’’ The ‘understanding’ clause may serve to keep negroes from voting, but the time will come when it will also be used to keep white men from voting if any number of them disagree with the election ofﬁcer who holds the discretionary power. ‘‘While discussing this matter, it would be unfair to the white people of the south and to my race if I were not perfectly frank. What interpretation does the outside world and the negro put upon these ‘understanding’ clauses? Either that they are meant to leave a loophole so that the ignorant white man can vote or to prevent the educated negro from voting. If this interpretation is correct in either case the law is unjust. It is unjust to the white man because it takes away from him the incentive to prepared himself to become an intelligent voter. It is unjust to the negro because it makes him feel that no matter how well he prepared himself in education for voting he will be refused a vote through the operation of the ‘understanding’ clause. ‘‘And what is worse this treatment will keep alive in the negro breast the feeling that he is being wrongfully treated by the southern white man and therefore he ought to vote against him, whereas with just treatment the years will not be many

65. The Hardwick Bill

before a large portion of the colored people will be willing to vote with the southern white people. ‘‘Then again I believe that such laws put our southern white people in a false position. I cannot think that there is any large number of white people in the south who are so ignorant or so poor that they cannot get education and property enough that will enable them to stand the test by the side of the negro in these respects. I do not believe that these white people want it continually advertised to the world that some special law must be passed by which they will seem to be given an unfair advantage over the negro by reason of their ignorance or poverty. ‘‘It is unfair to blame the negro for not preparing himself for citizenship by acquiring intelligence and then when he does get education and property to pass a law that can be so operated as to prevent him from being a citizen even though he may be a large tax payer. The southern white people have reached the point where they can afford to be just and generous; where there will be nothing to hide and nothing to explain. It is an easy matter, requiring little thought, generosity or statesmanship to push a weak man down when he is struggling to get up. Any one can do that. Greatness, generosity, statesmanship are shown in stimulating, encouraging every individual in the body politic to make of himself the most useful, intelligent and patriotic citizen possible. Take from the negro all incentive to make himself and children useful property-holding citizens and can any one blame him for becoming a beast capable of committing any crime? ‘‘I have the greatest sympathy with the south in its efforts to ﬁnd a way out of present difﬁculties, but I do not want to see the south tie its self to a body a of death. No form of repression will help matters. Spain tried that for 400 years and was the loser. There is one, and but one way out of our present difﬁculties and that is the right way. All else but right will fail. We must face the fact that the tendency of the world is forward and not backward. That all civilized countries are growing in the direction of giving liberty to their citizens, not withholding it. Slavery ceased because it was opposed to the progress of both races and so all form of repression, will fail-must fail-in the long run. Whenever a change is thought necessary to be made in the fundamental law of the states, as Governor Candler says in his recent message: ‘‘The man who is virtuous and intelligent, however poor or humble; or of whatever race or color, may be safely intrusted with the ballot.’’ ‘‘And as the recent industrial convention at Huntsville, Ala., composed of the best brains of the white south puts it: ‘‘To move the race problem from the domain of politics, where it has so long and seriously vexed the industrial progress of the south, we recommend to the several states of the south the adoption of an intelligent standard of citizenship that will equally apply to black and white alike.’ We must depend upon the mental, industrial and moral elevation of all the people to bring relief. The history of the world proves that there is no other safe cure. We may ﬁnd a way to stop the negro from selling his vote, but what about the conscience of the man who buys his vote? We must go to the bottom of the evil. ‘‘Our southern states cannot afford to have suspicion of evil intention resting upon them. It not only will hurt them morally, but ﬁnancially. ‘‘In conclusion let me add that the southern states owe it to themselves not to pass unfair election laws because it is against the constitution of the United States and each state is under a solemn obligation that every citizen, regardless of color, shall be given the full protection of the laws. No state can make a law that can be

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so interpreted to mean one thing when applied to the black man and another when applied to a white man, without disregarding the constitution of the United States. In the second place, unfair election laws in the long run, I repeat, will injure the white man more than the negro, such laws will not only disfranchise the negro, but the white man as well. ‘‘The history of the country shows that in those states where the election laws are most just, there you will ﬁnd the most wealth, the most intelligence and the smallest percentage of crime. The best element of white people in the south are not in favor of oppressing the negro, they want to help him up, but they are sometimes mistaken as to the best method of doing this. ‘‘While I have spoken very plainly, I do not believe that any one will misinterpret my motives. I am not in politics per se, nor do I intend to be, neither would I encourage my people to become mere politicians, but the question I have been discussing strikes at the very fundamental principles of citizenship.’’—Atlanta Constitution Source: Tuskegee, Ala.: Tuskegee Institute Steam Print., 1900. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

66. Nineteenth annual report of the principal of the Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Tuskegee, Alabama, for the year ending May 31, 1900, submitted by Booker T. Washington In this annual report, founder Booker T. Washington provided information on the national ﬁgures that had been involved with the Tuskegee Institute[GIVE DESCRIPTOR]. He stated that ‘‘the chief value of industrial education is to give to the students habits of industry, thrift, economy, and an idea of the dignity of labour.’’

TRUSTEES. MR. GEORGE W. CAMPBELL, President, Tuskegee, Ala. REV. G. L. CHANEY, Vice-President, Leominister, Mass. REV. R. C. BEDFORD, Secretary, Beloit, Wis. MR. WARREN LOAN, Treasurer, Tuskegee, Ala. MR. LEWIS ADAMS, Tuskegee, Ala. MR. CHARLES W. HARE, Tuskegee, Ala. MR. BOOKER T. WASHINGTON, Tuskegee, Ala. MR. GEORGE FOSTER PEABODY, New York, N. Y. MR. ROBERT C. OGDEN, New York, N. Y. MR. JOHN C. GRANT, LL. D Chicago, III. MR. J. W. ADAMS, Montgomery, Ala. Rev. GEORGE A. GORDON, D. D Boston, Mass. Rev. CHARLES F. DOLE, Boston, Mass. MR. HENRY C. DAVIS, Philadelphia, Pa. MR. J. G. PHELPS STOKES, New York, N. Y. MR. S. C. DIZER, Boston, Mass. MR. WILLIAM H. BALDWIN, JR., New York, N. Y. MR. R. O. SIMPSON Furman, Ala.

66. Nineteenth annual report of the principal of the Tuskegee Institute 341

FORM OF BEQUEST I give and devise to the Trustees of the Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Tuskegee, Alabama, the sum of dollars, payable, etc. To The Trustees Of The Tuskegee Normal And Industrial Institute: Gentlemen.—there has not been a year since freedom came to the Negro, that has witnessed such widespread discussion, both North and South, of all phases of his condition, as the present one. I cannot rid myself of the feeling that much, if not all of this discussion, is going to prove most helpful to the Negro’s education and general development. I am of the opinion that there is more thoughtful interest in the Negro at the present time, than has ever existed. The mere spasmodic and sentimental interest in him has been, in a large degree, replaced by the more substantial, thoughtful kind, based upon a comprehension of the facts. One is often surprised at the misleading and unfounded statements made regarding the progress of the Negro, but these very exaggerations serve a good purpose in causing individuals to seek facts for themselves. The Value and For example, I have recently seen a statement going Purpose of going the rounds of the press, to the effect that out of Industrial of 1,200 students educated at industrial schools, only twelve Education. were farming, and three working at the trades for which they were educated. Whether the Tuskegee Institute was included in this list, I do not know. It is to be regretted that those who presume to speak with authority on the advancement of the Negro, do not in more cases actually visit him, where they can see his better life. Few of the people who make discouraging statements regarding him, have ever taken the trouble to inspect his home life, his school life, his church life, or his business or industrial life. It is always misleading to judge any race or community by its worst. The Negro race should, like other races, be judged by its best types, rather than by its worst. Any one who judges of the value of industrial education by the mere number who actually follow the industry or trade learned at a school, makes a mistake. One might as well judge of the value of arithmetic by the number of people who spend their time after leaving school, in working out problems in arithmetic. The chief value of industrial education is to give to the students habits of industry, thrift, economy and an idea of the dignity of labour. But in addition to this, in the present economic condition of the colored people, it is most important that a very large proportion of those trained in such institutions as this, actually spend their time at industrial occupations. Let us value the work of Tuskegee by this test: On January 10th of this school year, we dedicated the Slater-Armstrong Memorial Trades’ Building. This building is in the form of a double Greek cross and, in its main dimension, is 283 315 feet, and is two stories high. The plans of this building were drawn by our instructor in mechanical drawing, a colored man. Eight hundred thousand bricks were required to construct it, and every one of them was manufactured by our students, while learning the trade of brickmaking. All the bricks were laid into the building by students who were being taught the trade of brickmasonry. The plastering, carpentry work, painting and tin-rooﬁng, were done by students while learning these trades. The whole number of students who received

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training on this building alone was about one hundred and ninety-six. It is to be lighted by electricity and all the electric ﬁxtures are being put in by students who are learning electrical engineering. The power to operate the machinery in this building comes from a one hundred and twenty-ﬁve horse power engine and a seventy-ﬁve horse-power boiler. All this machinery is not only operated by students who are learning the trade of steam engineering, but was installed by students under the guidance of their instructor. Let us take another example, that of agriculture: Our students actually cultivate every day, seven hundred acres of land, while studying agriculture. The students studying dairying, actually milk and care for seventy-ﬁve milch cows daily. Besides, they, of course, take care of the dairy products. All of this is done while learning the industry of dairying. The whole number of students receiving instruction in the divisions of Agriculture and Dairying the past year, is one hundred and forty-two. The students who are receiving training in farming, have cared for six hundred and nineteen head of hogs this year, and so, I could go on and give not theory, nor hearsay, but actual facts, gleaned from all the departments of the school. It does not look reasonable that, of all the large number of graduate students engaged upon the farms and in the diary, only about one per cent, should make any practical use of their trades. But this is not the fact. The best place to get a true estimate of an individual is at his home. The same is true of an institution. Let us take for example, Macon Country, Alabama, in which the Tuskegee Institute is located. By a careful investigation, it is found that there are not less than thirty-ﬁve graduates and former students in Macon Country and the town of Tuskegee alone who are working at trades or industries which they learned at this institution. At the present time, a large, two-story brick building is going up in the town of Tuskegee that is to be used as a store. In the ﬁrst place, the store is owned by a graduate of this institution. From the making of the brick to the completion of all the details of this building, the work is being done by graduates or former students of this school; and so the examples could be multiplied. Following the graduates and former students into the outer world, the record is as follows: A careful examination shows that at least three-fourths of them are actually using … the industrial knowledge which they gained here. Even those who do not use this knowledge in making a living, use it as housekeepers in their private homes, and those who teach in the public schools, either directly or indirectly, use it in helping their pupils. Aside from all that I have said, it must be kept in mind that the whole subject of industrial training on any large and systematic scale is new, and besides, is conﬁned to a very few institutions in the South. Industrial training could not be expected to revolutionize the progress of a race within ten or ﬁfteen years. At the present time the call for graduates from this institution to take positions as instructors of industries in other smaller institutions, as well as in city schools, is so urgent and constant that many of our graduates who would work independently at their trades, are not permitted to do so. In fact, one of the most regretful things in connection with our whole work, is that the calls for our graduates are so many more than we can supply. As the demand for instructors in industrial branches of various schools becomes supplied, a still larger percentage of graduates will use their knowledge of the trades in independent occupations. The one thing which every Negro institution should seek … is the giving of such training as will result in creating an inﬂuence in the rural districts. This should be done both in the interest of the white man and in the interest of the Negro, himself.

66. Nineteenth annual report of the principal of the Tuskegee Institute 343

Every land-owner needs every laborer he can secure. The Negro is not so much in demand in cities as in the country. The colored man is at his best in the rural districts, where he is kept away from the demoralizing inﬂuences of city life, and besides, in most cases, the competition in the cities is too severe for him. The only way to keep the colored man in the rural districts and away from the cities, is to give him ﬁrst-class agricultural training, to the extent that he will not consider farming a drudgery and a degradation, but will see in farm life dignity and beauty … The demand for the introduction of industrial or of industrial manual training into the public schools of both the cities training into and the country, has become so wide-spread throughout the public schools that this institution is constantly appealed to for information and help. Besides numerous letters from school ofﬁcials, we are having visits from school superintendents and boards of education, seeking such information as will enable them to introduce our methods into their schools. In connection with this subject however, I wish it thoroughly understood that I do not advocate the lowering of the mental standard as I understand is proposed by the public school boards of one, or two of our Southern cities. No race can be elevated till its mind is awakened and strengthened. In order that we may meet these demands in the best manner, we ought to have an addition to our present industrial department for the older students, a model primary school that will serve as an object lesson to those who want to get information as to the manner of introducing manual and industrial training into the public schools. The present primary school of 176 pupils, which is taught upon the grounds, will serve as a foundation. To carry out the plan that I have mentioned, we should have a new and larger building and the location should be where there is plenty of land that can be used for their purpose of teaching, among other things, simple lessons in gardening, to the small children. In addition to the usual class rooms, such a building should contain space for teaching kindergarten, mechanical drawing, carpentry, sewing, cooking and laundering. There should also be a place for bathing. Such a building, well equipped, would cost about $2000. I urge this as one of our most pressing needs. Few things would so much extend the inﬂuence for good in all parts of the South as the securing of this building. Attendance and The average attendance for the school year has been Growth of 1,083; 321 young women, and 762 young men. The total the School enrollment has been 1,231; 359 young women and 872 young men. Nine-tenths of the number have boarded and slept on the school grounds. In all the departments, including ofﬁcers, clerks and instructors, 103 persons are in the employ of the school. Counting students, ofﬁcers and teachers, together with their families, the total number of persons constantly upon the school grounds, is about 1,200. Students have come to us from 27 States and territories, from Africa, Porto Rico, Cuba, Jamaica and Barbadoes. There are 12 students from Cuba alone. During the present school year students have been trained in the following 28 industries, in addition to the religious and academic training: Agriculture, Dairying, Horticulture, Stock raising, Blacksmithing, Brickmasonry, Carpentry, Carriage Trimming, Cooking, Architectural, Freehand and Mechanical Drawing, Plain Sewing, Plastering, Plumbing, Printing, Sawmilling, Founding, Housekeeping, Harnessmaking, Electrical Engineering, Laundering, Machinery, Mattress-making, Millinery, Nurse Training, Painting, Shoemaking, Tailoring, Tinning and Wheelwrighting. This year we have made progress in the matter of training young women in outdoor occupations. Beginning with this school year, we are now giving a number of

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girls training in poultry raising, bee culture, dairying, gardening, fruit growing, etc. In this climate there is no reason why women should not be trained in such industries, and thereby get a knowledge which will command a good living and enable them to live at the same time out in the open fresh air. A large hennery is now being built, and it will be almost wholly under the supervision of our girls. The electric lighting has been extended to the point where about one-half the buildings are now lighted by electricity. Notwithstanding the stress put upon industrial training, we are not in any degree neglecting normal training for those who are to teach in the public schools. The number of graduates this year from all the departments is 51. In addition to religious and academic training, each one of these graduates has had training at some trade or industry. In considering the number that go out each year, account should be taken of those who are well trained, but who are unable to remain long enough to graduate. Our graduates and former students are now scattered all over the South, and wherever they can, they not only help the colored people, but use their inﬂuence in cultivating friendly relations between the races. While our work is not sectarian, it is thoroughly Christian, and the growth in the religious tone of the school is most gratifying. We have had more visits this year than ever from Southern white people, who are more and more showing their interest in our effort. Financial. The total cash receipts for the year, including endowment, beneﬁciary and building funds, as well as for current expenses, have been $236,163.40. The current expenses for the year have been $75,992.59. The bulk of the remainder of the cash receipts went into Endowment Fund and into the permanent improvement of the plant, in the way of buildings, machinery, etc. As to the details of the ﬁnancial condition of the institution, I refer you to the report of the treasurer, Mr. Warren Logan. The main sources of income of the institution are as follows: State of Alabama $ 4,500 00. John F. Slater Fund 11,000 00. Peabody Fund 1,500 00. Frothingham Fund 700 00. Society for Propagating the Gospel 500 00. Entrance Fees paid by students 1,234 00. Interest from Endowment Funds 3,530 98. The other portion of the funds necessary to carry on the work of the school comes mainly from individuals, Sunday Schools, missionary societies and churches. An especial effort in which ex-President Grover Cleveland took special interest, has been made during the past year to secure a partial endowment fund of at least $500,000. I am glad to say that, counting a gift of 50 bonds from Mr. and Mrs. C. P. Huntington, the Endowment Fund has now been increased to $152,232.49. The Temporary Relief Fund of $50,000 referred to in my last report, which some friends in Boston began raising two years ago at the suggestion of Mr. H. A. Wilder, has proved most helpful in relieving the Principal in some degree from the daily strain of collecting money. Friends in New York who do not permit their names to be known, have given us through one of our Trustees, Mr. W. H. Baldwin, Jr., $9,717.13 to be used in

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meeting special needs. The bulk of this money is being used to enlarge the hennery, to erect a dairy house, and a large dairy barn. Every possible means are used to keep the expenses of the school down to the lowest possible point. During the present year circumstances have forced us to make some additions to the plant, for which we did not have the money, but I believe that the wisdom of these expenditures will appear in reduced expenditures in the future. The smallpox, which appeared two years ago, compelled the destruction of cabins which had to be replaced by new barracks. Aside from this, we found it necessary to erect two small buildings to be used in case of contagious diseases. Added to this was the erection of a teacher’s cottage, the enlargement of the dining room, the introduction of steam heating and electric lighting into several buildings, and the putting of new machinery into the laundry, and cooking apparatus into the kitchen. All of these were expenses which could not be avoided, and for which there were no funds. Next year there will be little reason, I think, for departing from the principle to contract no debts for improvements till the money is in hand to make payment. The erection of the following buildings, for which funds have been secured, is now proceeding in a satisfactory manner: Huntington Hall, the Girls’ Industrial Building, the Hennery, the Dairy House and Dairy barn. The life of this school depends upon small gifts which carry with them the good will and active interest of hundreds of the best people throughout the country. In addition to the smaller gifts, we have received during the year among other donations, the following: TOWARDS THE ENDOWMENT FUND. Mrs. Alfred T. White $1,000 00. Mrs. J. B. Ames 500 00. A Friend, Columbus, Ohio 25,000 00. Mrs. George Faulkner 1,000 00. Mrs. E.P. Stillman and daughter 1,000 00. Friends in memory of Mrs. Elizabeth C. Lewis 1,000 00 A Friend, Philadelphia, Pa. 5,000 00. Mrs. Harriet A. Soutworth and daughter 1,000 00. Miss Emily Howland 1,000 00. Mrs. Leroy King 2,000 00. Mrs. A. M. Harris 1,000 00. Mr. John E. Parsons 500 00. Mr. George Foster Peabody 1,000 00. Miss H. W. Kendall 500 00 Mr. H. W. Maxwell 500 00. Mr. Oswald Offendorfer 500 00. Hon. Seth Low 1,000 00. Estate of Mrs. Mary M. Brown 1,805 10. Besides those mentioned above, Mr. and Mrs. C. P. Huntington have given $50,000 toward the Endowment Fund. For general and special purposes, aside from endowment, the following amounts are among the principal ones given during the year: Estate of Mr. Robert C. Billings $ 8,000 00. Estate of Mr. H. E. Hecox 500 00.

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Mr. John D. Rockefeller 12,500 00. Mrs. Julia Billings 1,000 00. Mrs. Eleanor C. Morris 1,000 00. Mr. and Mrs. Wm. E. Dodge 2,000 00. Friends, through Mr. Wm. H. Baldwin, Jr., 9,717 00 Hon. W. Bourke Cockran 500 00. Mr. H. A. Wildner, for Painting Buildings 600 00. The gift of a large 75 horse-power boiler and 125 horse-power engine, also given by Mr. C. P. Huntington, of New York, has added much to the efﬁciency of our industrial department. We are also indebted to Mr. Wm. E. Dodge for an outﬁt for our shoemaking division. Needs. I repeat what I have often said, that it is very necessary that every thing at this institution be done in the very best manner, because so many look to us for example. Among our greatest needs at present are: $2,000 for Model School building, as already described. $10,000 for better equipment of industrial departments. $4,000 for hospital building. $20,000 for Library and Administration building. $15,000 for dormitory for young men. $40,000 for steam heating. $348,000 to bring the endowment up to $500,000. Five teachers’ cottages, cost $1,200 each. In closing this report, I would say that my feeling grows stronger each year that the main thing that we want to be sure of is that Negro is making progress day by day. With constant, tangible, visible, indisputable progress being made evident, all the minor details regarding the adjustment of our position in the body politic will, in a natural way, settle themselves. Respectfully Submitted: Booker T. Washington, Principal. Tuskegee, Ala., May 30, 1900. Source: Tuskegee, Ala.: Tuskegee Institute Steam Print, 1900. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

67. Paths of Hope for the Negro: Practical Suggestions of a Southerner, 1900 JEROME DOWD In this article, Century Magazine contributor Jerome Dowd explained in detail the possible opportunities available for African Americans living in the southern United States. He explained that education of the black man needed to be practical and inclusive of the arts in order to promote literacy, self-esteem, and empowerment. It is too late in the day to discuss whether it would have been better had the Negro never been brought into the Southern States. If his presence here has been beneﬁcial, or is ever to prove so, the price of the beneﬁt has already been dearly paid

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for. He was the occasion of the deadliest and most expensive war in modern times. In the next place, his presence has corrupted politics and has limited statesmanship to a mere question of race supremacy. Great problems concerning the political, industrial, and moral life of the people have been subordinated or overshadowed, so that, while important strides have been made elsewhere in the investigation of social conditions and in the administration of State and municipal affairs, in civilservice reform, in the management of penal and charitable institutions, and in the ﬁeld of education, the South has lagged behind. On the charts of illiteracy and crime the South is represented by an immense black spot. Such are a few items of the account. It will require millions more of dollars and generations more of earnest work before the total cost is met of bringing the black man to this side of the globe. But the debt has been incurred and must be liquidated. The welfare of the Negro is bound up with that of the white man in many important particulars: First, the low standard of living among the blacks keeps down the wages of all classes of whites. So long as the Negroes are content to live in miserable huts, wear rags, and subsist upon hog fat and cow-pease, so long must the wages of white people in the same kind of work be pressed toward the same level. The higher we raise the standard of living among the Negroes, the higher will be the wages of the white people in the same occupations. The low standard of the Negroes is the result of low productive power. The less intelligent and skilled the Negroes are, the less they can produce, whether working for themselves or others, and hence, the less will be the total wealth of the country. But it may be asked, When the standard of living of the Negroes is raised, will not wages go up, and will not that be a drawback? Certainly wages will go up, because the income of all classes will be increased. High wages generally indicate high productive power and general wealth, while low wages indicate the opposite. Only beneﬁts can arise from better wages. In the next place, the Negro’s propensity to crime tends to excite the criminal tendencies of the white man. The South enjoys the distinction of having the highest percentage of crime in all the civilized world, and the reason is that the crimes of the one race provoke counter-crimes in the other. The physical well-being of the one race has such a conspicuous inﬂuence upon that of the other that the subject requires no elaboration. The uncleanliness of person and habits of the Negroes in their homes and in the homes of their employers tends to propagate diseases, and thus impairs the health and increases the death-rate of the whole population. Again, the lack of reﬁnement in intellect, manners, and dress among the Negroes is an obstacle to the cultivated life of the whites. Ignorance and the absence of taste and self-respect in servants result in badly kept homes and yards, destruction of furniture and ware, ill-prepared food, poor table service, and a general lowering of the standard of living. Furthermore, the corrupt, coarse, and vulgar language of the Negroes is largely responsible for the jumbled and distorted English spoken by many of the Southern whites. Seeing that the degradation of the Negro is an impediment to the progress and civilization of the white man, how may we effect an improvement in his condition? First, municipalities should give more attention to the streets and alleys that traverse Negro settlements. In almost every town in the South there are settlements,

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known by such names as ‘‘New Africa,’’ ‘‘Haiti,’’ ‘‘Log Town,’’ ‘‘Smoky Hollow,’’ or ‘‘Snow Hill,’’ exclusively inhabited by Negroes. These settlements are often outside the corporate limits. The houses are built along narrow, crooked, and dirty lanes, and the community is without sanitary regulations or oversight. These quarters should be brought under municipal control, the lanes widened into streets and cleaned, and provision made to guard against the opening of similar ones in the future. In the next place, property-owners should build better houses for the Negroes to live in. The weakness in the civilization of the Negroes is most pronounced in their family life. But improvement in this respect is not possible without an improvement in the character and the comforts of the houses they live in. Bad houses breed bad people and bad neighborhoods. There is no more distinctive form of crime than the building and renting of houses unﬁt for human habitation. Scarcely second in importance to improvements in house architecture is the need among Negroes of more time to spend with their families. Employers of Negro labor should be less exacting in the number of hours required for a day’s work. Many domestic servants now work from six in the morning until nine and ten o’clock at night. The Southern habit of keeping open shopping-places until late at night encourages late suppers, retains cooks, butlers, and nurses until bedtime, and robs them of all home life. If the merchants would close their shops at six o’clock, as is the custom in the North, the welfare of both races would be greatly promoted. Again, a revolution is needed in the character of the Negro’s religion. At present it is too largely an affair of the emotions. He needs to be taught that the religious life is something to grow into by the perfection of personality, and not to be jumped into or sweated into at camp-meetings. The theological seminaries and the graduate preachers should assume the task of grafting upon the religion of the Negro that much sanity at least. A reform is as much needed in the methods and aims of Negro education. Up to the present Negro education has shared with that of the white man the fault of being top-heavy. Colleges and universities have developed out of proportion to, and at the expense of, common schools. Then, the kind of education afforded the Negro has not been ﬁtted to his capacities and needs. He has been made to pursue courses of study parallel to those prescribed for the whites, as though the individuals of both races had to ﬁll the same positions in life. Much of the Negro’s education has had nothing to do with his real life-work. It has only made him discontented and disinclined to unfold his arms. The survival of the Negroes in the race for existence depends upon their retaining possession of the few bread-winning occupations now open to them. But instead of better qualifying themselves for these occupations they have been poring over dead languages and working problems in mathematics. In the meantime the Chinaman and the steam-laundry have abolished the Negro’s wash-tub, trained white ‘‘tonsorial artists’’ have taken away his barber’s chair, and skilled painters and plasterers and mechanics have taken away his paint-brushes and tool-chests. Every year the number of occupations open to him becomes fewer because of his lack of progress in them. Unless a radical change takes place in the scope of his education, so that he may learn better how to do his work, a tide of white immigration will set in and force him out of his last stronghold, domestic service, and limit his sphere to the farm. All primary schools for the Negroes should be equipped for industrial training in such work as sewing, cooking, laundering, carpentry, and house-cleaning, and, in rural districts, in elementary agriculture.

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Secondary schools should add to the literary courses a more advanced course in industrial training, so as to approach as nearly as possible the objects and methods of the Tuskegee and Hampton Industrial and Normal Schools. Too much cannot be said in behalf of the revolution in the life of the Negro which the work of these schools promises and, in part, has already wrought. The writer is fully aware that education has a value aside from and above its bread-winning results, and he would not dissuade the Negro from seeking the highest culture that he may be capable of; but it is folly for him to wing his way through the higher realms of the intellect without some acquaintance with the requirements and duties of life. Changes are needed in the methods of Negro education as well as in its scope. Educators should take into account, more than they have yet done, the differences in the mental characteristics of the two races. It is a well-established fact that, while the lower races possess marked capacity to deal with simple, concrete ideas, they lack power of generalization, and soon fatigue in the realm of the abstract. It is also well known that the inferior races, being deﬁcient in generalization, which is a subjective process, are absorbed almost entirely in the things that are objective. They have strong and alert eyesight, and are susceptible to impressions through the medium of the eye to an extent that is impossible to any of the white races. This fact is evidenced in the great number of pictures found in the homes of the Negroes. In default of anything better, they will paper their walls with advertisements of the theater and the circus, and even with pictures from vicious newspapers. They delight in street pageantry, fancy costumes, theatrical performances, and similar spectacles. Factories employing Negroes generally ﬁnd it necessary to suspend operations on ‘‘circus day.’’ They love stories of adventure and any ﬁction that gives play to their imaginations. All their tastes lie in the realm of the objective and the concrete. Hence, in the school-room stress should be laid on those studies that appeal to the eye and the imagination. Lessons should be given in sketching, painting, drawing, and casting. Reprints of the popular works of art should be placed before the Negroes, that their love for art may be gratiﬁed and their taste cultivated at the same time. Fancy needlework, dress-making, and home decorations should also have an important place. These studies, while not contributing directly to bread-winning, have a reﬁning and softening inﬂuence upon character, and inspire efforts to make the home more attractive. The more interest we can make the Negro take in his personal appearance and in the comforts of his home, the more we shall strengthen and promote his family life and raise the level of his civilization. The literary education of the Negro should consist of carefully selected poems and novels that appeal to his imagination and produce clear images upon his mind, excluding such literature as is in the nature of psychological or moral research. Recitations and dialogues should be more generally and more frequently required. In history emphasis should be given to what is picturesque, dramatic, and biographical. Coming to the political phase of the Negro problem, there is a general agreement among white men that the Southern States cannot keep pace with the progress of the world as long as they are menaced by Negro domination, and that, therefore, it is necessary to eliminate the Negro vote from politics. When the Negroes become intelligent factors in society, when they become thrifty and accumulate wealth, they will ﬁnd the way to larger exercise of citizenship. They can never sit upon juries to pass upon life and property until they are property-owners themselves, and they can never hold the reins of government by reason of mere superiority of numbers. Before

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they can take on larger political responsibilities they must demonstrate their ability to meet them. The Negroes will never be allowed to control State governments so long as they vote at every election upon the basis of color, without regard whatever to political issues or private convictions. If the Negroes would divide their votes according to their individual opinions, as the lamented Charles Price, one of their best leaders, advised, there would be no danger of Negro domination and no objection to their holding ofﬁces which they might be competent to ﬁll. But as there is no present prospect of their voting upon any other basis than that of color, the white people are forced to accept the situation and protect themselves accordingly. Years of bitter and costly experience have demonstrated over and over again that Negro rule is not only incompetent and corrupt, but a menace to civilization. Some people imagine that there is something anomalous, peculiar, or local in the race prejudice that binds all Negroes together; but this clan spirit is a characteristic of all savage and semi-civilized peoples. It should be well understood by this time that no foreign race inhabiting this country and acting together politically can dominate the native whites. To permit an inferior race, holding less than one tenth of the property of the community, to take the reins of government in its hands, by reason of mere numerical strength, would be to renounce civilization. Our national government, in making laws for Hawaii, has carefully provided for white supremacy by an educational qualiﬁcation for suffrage that excludes the semi-civilized natives. No sane man, let us hope, would think of placing Manila under the control of a government of the Philippine Islands based upon universal suffrage. Yet the problem in the South and the problem in the Philippines and in Hawaii differ only in degree. The only proper safeguard against Negro rule in States where the blacks outnumber or approximate in number the whites lies in constitutional provisions establishing an educational test for suffrage applicable to black and white alike. If the suffrage is not thus limited it is necessary for the whites to resort to technicalities and ballot laws, to bribery or intimidation. To set up an educational test with a ‘‘grandfather clause,’’ making the test apply for a certain time to the blacks only, seems to an outsider unnecessary, arbitrary, and unjust. The reason for such a clause arises from the belief that no constitutional amendment could ever carry if it immediately disfranchised the illiterate whites, as many property-holding whites belong to that class. But the writer does not believe in the principle nor in the necessity for a ‘‘grandfather clause.’’ If constitutional amendments were to be submitted in North Carolina and Virginia applying the educational test to both races alike after 1908, the question would be lifted above the level of party gain, and would receive the support of white men of all parties and the approbation of the moral sentiment of the American people. A white man who would disfranchise a Negro because of his color or for mere party advantage is himself unworthy of the suffrage. With the suffrage question adjusted upon an educational basis the Negroes would have the power to work out their political emancipation, the white people having made education necessary and provided the means for attaining it. When the question of Negro domination is settled, the path of progress of both races will be very much cleared. Race conﬂicts will then be less frequent and race feeling less bitter. With more friendly relations growing up, and with more concentration of energy on the part of the Negroes in industrial lines, the opportunities for them will be widened and the task of ﬁnding industrial adjustment in the struggle

68. The Freedmen’s Bureau, March 1901 351

for life made easier. The wisest and best leaders among the Negroes, such as Booker Washington and the late Charles Price, have tried to turn the attention of the Negroes from politics to the more proﬁtable pursuits of industry, and if the professional politician would cease inspiring the Negroes to seek salvation in political domination over the whites, the race issue would soon cease to exist. The ﬁeld is broad enough in the South for both races to attain all that is possible to them. In spite of the periodic political conﬂicts and occasional local riots and acts of individual violence, the relations between the races, in respect to nine tenths of the population, are very friendly. The general condition has been too often judged by the acts of a small minority. The Southern people understand the Negroes, and feel a real fondness for those that are thrifty and well behaved. When fairly treated the Negro has a strong affection for his employer. He seldom forgets a kindness, and is quick to forget a wrong. If he does not stay long at one place, it is not that he dislikes his employer so much as that he has a restless temperament and craves change. His disposition is full of mirth and sunshine, and not a little of the ﬁne ﬂavor of Southern wit and humor is due to his inﬂuence. His nature is plastic, and while he is easily molded into a monster, he is also capable of a high degree of culture. Many Negroes are thoroughly honest, notwithstanding their bad environment and hereditary disposition to steal. Negro servants are trusted with the keys to households to an extent that, probably, is not the case among domestics elsewhere in the civilized world. It is strange that two races working side by side should possess so many opposite traits of character. The white man has strong will and convictions and is set in his ways. He lives an indoor, monotonous life, restrains himself like a Puritan, and is inclined to be melancholy. The prevalence of Populism throughout the South is nothing but the outcome of this morbid tendency. Farmers and merchants are entirely absorbed in their business, and the women, especially the married women, contrast with the women of France, Germany, and even England, in their indoor life and disinclination to mingle with the world outside. Public parks and public concerts, such as are found in Europe, which call out husband, wife, and children for a few hours of rest and communion with their friends, are almost unknown in the South. The few entertainments that receive sanction generally exclude all but the well-to-do by the cost of admission. The life of the poor in town and country is bleak and bare to the last degree. Contrasting with this tendency is the free-and-easy life of the blacks. The burdens of the present and the future weigh lightly upon their shoulders. They love all the worldly amusements; in their homes, they are free entertainers, and in their fondness for conversation and love of street life, they are equal to the French or Italians. May we not hope that the conﬂict of these two opposite races is working out some advantages to both, and that the ﬁnal result will justify all that the conﬂict has cost? Source: Century Magazine, Volume 61. New York: 1900. Copyright C 1999, by the Rector and Visitors of the University of Virginia. Courtesy of The University of Virginia Library.

68. The Freedmen’s Bureau, March 1901 W. E. BURGHARDT DUBOIS W. E. B DuBois ﬁrst became famous through writing in which he declared the single most important question America would face during the twentieth century would be the problem of race relations. It was race, DuBois wrote, that caused the Civil War;

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when the war ended, an old question cloaked in new words emerged: What shall be done with slaves? A bureaucracy called the Freedmen’s Bureau was created in March of 1865 to solve this new problem. In this essay, DuBois both praised and critiziced the Bureau’s work. Its chief success, DuBois argued, was the founding and operating of hundreds of free public schools for African Americans. Its primary failure, DuBois claimed, was in not being powerful enough to overcome the tyranny of the local courts, which maintained the superior position of whites, especially former slave owners. Peremptory military commands, this way and that, could not answer the query; the Emancipation Proclamation seemed but to broaden and intensify the difﬁculties; and so at last there arose in the South a government of men called the Freedmen’s Bureau, which lasted, legally, from 1865 to 1872, but in a sense from 1861 to 1876, and which sought to settle the Negro problems in the United States of America. It is the aim of this essay to study the Freedmen’s Bureau,—the occasion of its rise, the character of its work, and its ﬁnal success and failure,—not only as a part of American history, but above all as one of the most singular and interesting of the attempts made by a great nation to grapple with vast problems of race and social condition. No sooner had the armies, east and west, penetrated Virginia and Tennessee than fugitive slaves appeared within their lines. They came at night, when the ﬂickering camp ﬁres of the blue hosts shone like vast unsteady stars along the black horizon: old men, and thin, with gray and tufted hair; women with frightened eyes, dragging whimpering, hungry children; men and girls, stalwart and gaunt,—a horde of starving vagabonds, homeless, helpless, and pitiable in their dark distress. Two methods of treating these newcomers seemed equally logical to opposite sorts of minds. Said some, ‘‘We have nothing to do with slaves.’’ ‘‘Hereafter,’’ commanded Halleck, ‘‘no slaves should be allowed to come into your lines at all; if any come without your knowledge, when owners call for them, deliver them.’’ But others said, ‘‘We take grain and fowl;why not slaves?’’ Whereupon Fremont, as early as August, 1861,declared the slaves of Missouri rebels free. Such radical action was quickly countermanded, but at the same time the opposite policy could not be enforced; some of the black refugees declared themselves freemen, others showed their masters had deserted them, and still others were captured with forts and plantations. Evidently, too, slaves were a source of strength to the Confederacy, and were being used as laborers and producers. ‘‘They constitute a military resource,’’ wrote the Secretary of War, late in 1861; ‘‘and being such, that they should not be turned over to the enemy is too plain to discuss.’’ So the tone of the army chiefs changed, Congress forbade the rendition of fugitives, and Butler’s ‘‘contrabands’’ were welcomed as military laborers. This complicated rather than solved the problem; for now the scattering fugitives became a steady stream, which ﬂowed faster as the armies marched. Then the long-headed man, with care-chiseled face, who sat in the White House, saw the inevitable, and emancipated the slaves of rebels on New Year’s, 1863. A month later Congress called earnestly for the Negro soldiers whom the act of July, 1862, had half grudgingly allowed to enlist. Thus the barriers were leveled, and the deed was done. The stream of fugitives swelled to a ﬂood, and anxious ofﬁcers kept inquiring: ‘‘What must be done with slaves arriving almost daily? Am I to ﬁnd food and shelter for women and children?’’

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It was a Pierce of Boston who pointed out the way, and thus became in a sense the founder of the Freedmen’s Bureau. Being specially detailed from the ranks to care for the freedmen at Fortress Monroe, he afterward founded the celebrated Port Royal experiment and started the Freedmen’s Aid Societies. Thus, under the timid Treasury ofﬁcials and bold army ofﬁcers, Pierce’s plan widened and developed. At ﬁrst, the able-bodied men were enlisted as soldiers or hired as laborers, the women and children were herded into central camps under guard, and ‘‘superintendents of contrabands’’ multiplied here and there. Centres of massed freedmen arose at Fortress Monroe, Va., Washington, D. C., Beaufort and Port Royal, S. C., New Orleans, La., Vicksburg and Corinth, Miss., Columbus, Ky., Cairo, Ill., and elsewhere, and the army chaplains found here new and fruitful ﬁelds. Then came the Freedmen’s Aid Societies, born of the touching appeals for relief and help from these centres of distress. There was the American Missionary Association, sprung from the Amistad, and now full grown for work, the various church organizations, the National Freedmen’s Relief Association, the American Freedmen’s Union, the Western Freedmen’s Aid Commission,—in all ﬁfty or more active organizations, which sent clothes, money, school-books, and teachers southward. All they did was needed, for the destitution of the freedmen was often reported as ‘‘too appalling for belief,’’ and the situation was growing daily worse rather than better. And daily, too, it seemed more plain that this was no ordinary matter of temporary relief, but a national crisis; for here loomed a labor problem of vast dimensions. Masses of Negroes stood idle, or, if they worked spasmodically, were never sure of pay; and if perchance they received pay, squandered the new thing thoughtlessly. In these and in other ways were camp life and the new liberty demoralizing the freedmen. The broader economic organization thus clearly demanded sprang up here and there as accident and local conditions determined. Here again Pierce’s Port Royal plan of leased plantations and guided workmen pointed out the rough way. In Washington, the military governor, at the urgent appeal of the superintendent, opened conﬁscated estates to the cultivation of the fugitives, and there in the shadow of the dome gathered black farm villages. General Dix gave over estates to the freedmen of Fortress Monroe, and so on through the South. The government and the benevolent societies furnished the means of cultivation, and the Negro turned again slowly to work. The systems of control, thus started, rapidly grew, here and there, into strange little governments, like that of General Banks in Louisiana, with its 90,000 black subjects, its 50,000 guided laborers, and its annual budget of $100,000 and more. It made out 4000 pay rolls, registered all freedmen, inquired into grievances and redressed them, laid and collected taxes, and established a system of public schools. So too Colonel Eaton, the superintendent of Tennessee and Arkansas, ruled over 100,000, leased and cultivated 7000 acres of cotton land, and furnished food for 10,000 paupers. In South Carolina was General Saxton, with his deep interest in black folk. He succeeded Pierce and the Treasury ofﬁcials, and sold forfeited estates, leased abandoned plantations, encouraged schools, and received from Sherman, after the terribly picturesque march to the sea, thousands of the wretched camp followers. Three characteristic things one might have seen in Sherman’s raid through Georgia, which threw the new situation in deep and shadowy relief: the Conqueror, the Conquered, and the Negro. Some see all signiﬁcance in the grim front of the destroyer, and some in the bitter sufferers of the lost cause. But to me neither soldier nor fugitive speaks with so deep a meaning as that dark and human cloud that clung

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like remorse on the rear of those swift columns, swelling at times to half their size, almost engulﬁng and choking them. In vain were they ordered back, in vain were bridges hewn from beneath their feet; on they trudged and writhed and surged, until they rolled into Savannah, a starved and naked horde of tens of thousands. There too came the characteristic military remedy: ‘‘The islands from Charleston south, the abandoned rice ﬁelds along the rivers for thirty miles back from the sea, and the country bordering the St. John’s River, Florida, are reserved and set apart for the settlement of Negroes now made free by act of war.’’ So read the celebrated ﬁeld order. All these experiments, orders, and systems were bound to attract and perplex the government and the nation. Directly after the Emancipation Proclamation, Representative Eliot had introduced a bill creating a Bureau of Emancipation, but it was never reported. The following June, a committee of inquiry, appointed by the Secretary of War, reported in favor of a temporary bureau for the ‘‘improvement, protection, and employment of refugee freedmen,’’ on much the same lines as were afterward followed. Petitions came in to President Lincoln from distinguished citizens and organizations, strongly urging a comprehensive and uniﬁed plan of dealing with the freedmen, under a bureau which should be ‘‘charged with the study of plans and execution of measures for easily guiding, and in every way judiciously and humanely aiding, the passage of our emancipated and yet to be emancipated blacks from the old condition of forced labor to their new state of voluntary industry.’’ Some half-hearted steps were early taken by the government to put both freedmen and abandoned estates under the supervision of the Treasury ofﬁcials. Laws of 1863 and 1864 directed them to take charge of and lease abandoned lands for periods not exceeding twelve months, and to ‘‘provide in such leases or otherwise for the employment and general welfare’’ of the freedmen. Most of the army ofﬁcers looked upon this as a welcome relief from perplexing ‘‘Negro affairs;’’ but the Treasury hesitated and blundered, and although it leased large quantities of land and employed many Negroes, especially along the Mississippi, yet it left the virtual control of the laborers and their relations to their neighbors in the hands of the army. In March, 1864, Congress at last turned its attention to the subject, and the House passed a bill, by a majority of two, establishing a Bureau for Freedmen in the War Department. Senator Sumner, who had charge of the bill in the Senate, argued that freedmen and abandoned lands ought to be under the same department, and reported a substitute for the House bill, attaching the Bureau to the Treasury Department. This bill passed, but too late for action in the House. The debate wandered over the whole policy of the administration and the general question of slavery, without touching very closely the speciﬁc merits of the measure in hand. Meantime the election took place, and the administration, returning from the country with a vote of renewed conﬁdence, addressed itself to the matter more seriously. A conference between the houses agreed upon a carefully drawn measure which contained the chief provisions of Charles Sumner’s bill, but made the proposed organization a department independent of both the War and Treasury ofﬁcials. The bill was conservative, giving the new department ‘‘general superintendence of all freedmen.’’ It was to ‘‘establish regulations’’ for them, protect them, lease them lands, adjust their wages, and appear in civil and military courts as their ‘‘next friend.’’ There were many limitations attached to the powers thus

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granted, and the organization was made permanent. Nevertheless, the Senate defeated the bill, and a new conference committee was appointed. This committee reported a new bill, February 28, which was whirled through just as the session closed, and which became the act of 1865 establishing in the War Department a ‘‘Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands.’’ This last compromise was a hasty bit of legislation, vague and uncertain in outline. A Bureau was created, ‘‘to continue during the present War of Rebellion, and for one year thereafter,’’ to which was given ‘‘the supervision and management of all abandoned lands, and the control of all subjects relating to refugees and freedmen,’’ under ‘‘such rules and regulations as may be presented by the head of the Bureau and approved by the President.’’ A commissioner, appointed by the President and Senate, was to control the Bureau, with an ofﬁce force not exceeding ten clerks. The President might also appoint commissioners in the seceded states, and to all these ofﬁces military ofﬁcials might be detailed at regular pay. The Secretary of War could issue rations, clothing, and fuel to the destitute, and all abandoned property was placed in the hands of the Bureau for eventual lease and sale to ex-slaves in forty-acre parcels. Thus did the United States government deﬁnitely assume charge of the emancipated Negro as the ward of the nation. It was a tremendous undertaking. Here, at a stroke of the pen, was erected a government of millions of men,—and not ordinary men, either, but black men emasculated by a peculiarly complete system of slavery, centuries old; and now, suddenly, violently, they come into a new birthright, at a time of war and passion, in the midst of the stricken, embittered population of their former masters. Any man might well have hesitated to assume charge of such a work, with vast responsibilities, indeﬁnite powers, and limited resources. Probably no one but a soldier would have answered such a call promptly; and indeed no one but a soldier could be called, for Congress had appropriated no money for salaries and expenses. Less than a month after the weary emancipator passed to his rest, his successor assigned Major General Oliver O. Howard to duty as commissioner of the new Bureau. He was a Maine man, then only thirty-ﬁve years of age. He had marched with Sherman to the sea, had fought well at Gettysburg, and had but a year before been assigned to the command of the Department of Tennessee. An honest and sincere man, with rather too much faith in human nature, little aptitude for systematic business and intricate detail, he was nevertheless conservative, hard-working, and, above all, acquainted at ﬁrst-hand with much of the work before him. And of that work it has been truly said, ‘‘No approximately correct history of civilization can ever be written which does not throw out in bold relief, as one of the great landmarks of political and social progress, the organization and administration of the Freedmen’s Bureau.’’ On May 12, 1865, Howard was appointed, and he assumed the duties of his ofﬁce promptly on the 15th, and began examining the ﬁeld of work. A curious mess he looked upon: little despotisms, communistic experiments, slavery, peonage, business speculations, organized charity, unorganized almsgiving,—all reeling on under the guise of helping the freedman, and all enshrined in the smoke and blood of war and the cursing and silence of angry men. On May 19 the new government—for a government it really was—issued its constitution; commissioners were to be appointed in each of the seceded states, who were to take charge of ‘‘all subjects relating to

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refugees and freedmen,’’ and all relief and rations were to be given by their consent alone. The Bureau invited continued cooperation with benevolent societies, and declared, ‘‘It will be the object of all commissioners to introduce practicable systems of compensated labor,’’ and to establish schools. Forthwith nine assistant commissioners were appointed. They were to hasten to their ﬁelds of work; seek gradually to close relief establishments, and make the destitute self-supporting; act as courts of law where there were no courts, or where Negroes were not recognized in them as free; establish the institution of marriage among ex-slaves, and keep records; see that freedmen were free to choose their employers, and help in making fair contracts for them; and ﬁnally, the circular said, ‘‘Simple good faith, for which we hope on all hands for those concerned in the passing away of slavery, will especially relieve the assistant commissioners in the discharge of their duties toward the freedmen, as well as promote the general welfare.’’ No sooner was the work thus started, and the general system and local organization in some measure begun, than two grave difﬁculties appeared which changed largely the theory and outcome of Bureau work. First, there were the abandoned lands of the South. It had long been the more or less deﬁnitely expressed theory of the North that all the chief problems of emancipation might be settled by establishing the slaves on the forfeited lands of their masters,—a sort of poetic justice, said some. But this poetry done into solemn prose meant either wholesale conﬁscation of private property in the South, or vast appropriations. Now Congress had not appropriated a cent, and no sooner did the proclamations of general amnesty appear than the 800,000 acres of abandoned lands in the hands of the Freedmen’s Bureau melted quickly away. The second difﬁculty lay in perfecting the local organization of the Bureau throughout the wide ﬁeld of work. Making a new machine and sending out ofﬁcials of duly ascertained ﬁtness for a great work of social reform is no child’s task; but this task was even harder, for a new central organization had to be ﬁtted on a heterogeneous and confused but already existing system of relief and control of exslaves; and the agents available for this work must be sought for in an army still busy with war operations,—men in the very nature of the case ill ﬁtted for delicate social work,—or among the questionable camp followers of an invading host. Thus, after a year’s work, vigorously as it was pushed, the problem looked even more difﬁcult to grasp and solve than at the beginning. Nevertheless, three things that year’s work did, well worth the doing: it relieved a vast amount of physical suffering; it transported 7000 fugitives from congested centres back to the farm; and, best of all, it inaugurated the crusade of the New England school ma’am. The annals of this Ninth Crusade are yet to be written, the tale of a mission that seemed to our age far more quixotic than the quest of St. Louis seemed to his. Behind the mists of ruin and rapine waved the calico dresses of women who dared, and after the hoarse mouthings of the ﬁeld guns rang the rhythm of the alphabet. Rich and poor they were, serious and curious. Bereaved now of a father, now of a brother, now of more than these, they came seeking a life work in planting New England schoolhouses among the white and black of the South. They did their work well. In that ﬁrst year they taught 100,000 souls, and more. Evidently, Congress must soon legislate again on the hastily organized Bureau, which had so quickly grown into wide signiﬁcance and vast possibilities. An institution such as that was well-nigh as difﬁcult to end as to begin. Early in 1866 Congress took up the matter, when Senator Trumbull, of Illinois, introduced a bill to extend the Bureau and

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enlarge its powers. This measure received, at the hands of Congress, far more thorough discussion and attention than its predecessor. The war cloud had thinned enough to allow a clearer conception of the work of emancipation. The champions of the bill argued that the strengthening of the Freedmen’s Bureau was still a military necessity; that it was needed for the proper carrying out of the Thirteenth Amendment, and was a work of sheer justice to the ex-slave, at a triﬂing cost to the government. The opponents of the measure declared that the war was over, and the necessity for war measures past; that the Bureau, by reason of its extraordinary powers, was clearly unconstitutional in time of peace, and was destined to irritate the South and pauperize the freedmen, at a ﬁnal cost of possibly hundreds of millions. Two of these arguments were unanswered, and indeed unanswerable: the one that the extraordinary powers of the Bureau threatened the civil rights of all citizens; and the other that the government must have power to do what manifestly must be done, and that present abandonment of the freedmen meant their practical enslavement. The bill which ﬁnally passed enlarged and made permanent the Freedmen’s Bureau. It was promptly vetoed by President Johnson, as ‘‘unconstitutional,’’ ‘‘unnecessary,’’ and ‘‘extrajudicial,’’ and failed of passage over the veto. Meantime, however, the breach between Congress and the President began to broaden, and a modiﬁed form of the lost bill was ﬁnally passed over the President’s second veto, July 16. The act of 1866 gave the Freedmen’s Bureau its ﬁnal form,—the form by which it will be known to posterity and judged of men. It extended the existence of the Bureau to July, 1868; it authorized additional assistant commissioners, the retention of army ofﬁcers mustered out of regular service, the sale of certain forfeited lands to freedmen on nominal terms, the sale of Confederate public property for Negro schools, and a wider ﬁeld of judicial interpretation and cognizance. The government of the un-reconstructed South was thus put very largely in the hands of the Freedmen’s Bureau, especially as in many cases the departmental military commander was now made also assistant commissioner. It was thus that the Freedmen’s Bureau became a full-ﬂedged government of men. It made laws, executed them and interpreted them; it laid and collected taxes, deﬁned and punished crime, maintained and used military force, and dictated such measures as it thought necessary and proper for the accomplishment of its varied ends. Naturally, all these powers were not exercised continuously nor to their fullest extent; and yet, as General Howard has said, ‘‘scarcely any subject that has to be legislated upon in civil society failed, at one time or another, to demand the action of this singular Bureau.’’ To understand and criticize intelligently so vast a work, one must not forget an instant the drift of things in the later sixties: Lee had surrendered, Lincoln was dead, and Johnson and Congress were at loggerheads; the Thirteenth Amendment was adopted, the Fourteenth pending, and the Fifteenth declared in force in 1870. Guerrilla raiding, the ever present ﬂickering after-ﬂame of war, was spending its force against the Negroes, and all the Southern land was awakening as from some wild dream to poverty and social revolution. In a time of perfect calm, amid willing neighbors and streaming wealth, the social uplifting of 4,000,000 slaves to an assured and self-sustaining place in the body politic and economic would have been an Herculean task; but when to the inherent difﬁculties of so delicate and nice a social operation were added the spite and hate of conﬂict, the Hell of War; when suspicion and cruelty were rife, and gaunt Hunger wept beside Bereavement,—in such a case, the work of any instrument of social regeneration was in large part

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foredoomed to failure. The very name of the Bureau stood for a thing in the South which for two centuries and better men had refused even to argue,—that life amid free Negroes was simply unthinkable, the maddest of experiments. The agents which the Bureau could command varied all the way from unselﬁsh philanthropists to narrow-minded busybodies and thieves; and even though it be true that the average was far better than the worst, it was the one ﬂy that helped to spoil the ointment. Then, amid all this crouched the freed slave, bewildered between friend and foe. He had emerged from slavery: not the worst slavery in the world, not a slavery that made all life unbearable,—rather, a slavery that had here and there much of kindliness, ﬁdelity, and happiness,—but withal slavery, which, so far as human aspiration and desert were concerned, classed the black man and the ox together. And the Negro knew full well that, whatever their deeper convictions may have been, Southern men had fought with desperate energy to perpetuate this slavery, under which the black masses, with half-articulate thought, had writhed and shivered. They welcomed freedom with a cry. They ﬂed to the friends that had freed them. They shrank from the master who still strove for their chains. So the cleft between the white and black South grew. Idle to say it never should have been; it was as inevitable as its results were pitiable. Curiously incongruous elements were left arrayed against each other: the North, the government, the carpetbagger, and the slave, here; and there, all the South that was white, whether gentleman or vagabond, honest man or rascal, lawless murderer or martyr to duty. Thus it is doubly difﬁcult to write of this period calmly, so intense was the feeling, so mighty the human passions, that swayed and blinded men. Amid it all two ﬁgures ever stand to typify that day to coming men: the one a gray-haired gentleman, whose fathers had quit themselves like men, whose sons lay in nameless graves, who bowed to the evil of slavery because its abolition boded untold ill to all; who stood at last, in the evening of life, a blighted, ruined form, with hate in his eyes. And the other, a form hovering dark and mother-like, her awful face black with the mists of centuries, had aforetime bent in love over her white master’s cradle, rocked his sons and daughters to sleep, and closed in death the sunken eyes of his wife to the world; ay, too, had laid herself low to his lust and borne a tawny man child to the world, only to see her dark boy’s limbs scattered to the winds by midnight marauders riding after Damned Niggers. These were the saddest sights of that woeful day; and no man clasped the hands of these two passing ﬁgures of the present-past; but hating they went to their long home, and hating their children’s children live to-day. Here, then, was the ﬁeld of work for the Freedmen’s Bureau; and since, with some hesitation, it was continued by the act of 1868 till 1869, let us look upon four years of its work as a whole. There were, in 1868, 900 Bureau ofﬁcials scattered from Washington to Texas, ruling, directly and indirectly, many millions of men. And the deeds of these rulers fall mainly under seven heads,—the relief of physical suffering, the overseeing of the beginnings of free labor, the buying and selling of land, the establishment of schools, the paying of bounties, the administration of justice, and the ﬁnanciering of all these activities. Up to June, 1869, over half a million patients had been treated by Bureau physicians and surgeons, and sixty hospitals and asylums had been in operation. In ﬁfty months of work 21,000,000 free rations were distributed at a cost of over $4,000,000,—beginning at the rate of 30,000 rations a day in 1865, and discontinuing in 1869. Next came the difﬁcult question of labor. First, 30,000 black men were transported from the refuges and relief stations back to

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the farms, back to the critical trial of a new way of working. Plain, simple instructions went out from Washington,—the freedom of laborers to choose employers, no ﬁxed rates of wages, no peonage or forced labor. So far so good; but where local agents differed in capacity and character, where the personnel was continually changing, the outcome was varied. The largest element of success lay in the fact that the majority of the freedmen were willing, often eager, to work. So contracts were written—50,000 in a single state,—laborers advised, wages guaranteed, and employers supplied. In truth, the organization became a vast labor bureau; not perfect, indeed,—notably defective here and there,—but on the whole, considering the situation, successful beyond the dreams of thoughtful men. The two great obstacles which confronted the ofﬁcers at every turn were the tyrant and the idler: the slaveholder, who believed slavery was right, and was determined to perpetuate it under another name; and the freedman, who regarded freedom as perpetual rest. These were the Devil and the Deep Sea. In the work of establishing the Negroes as peasant proprietors the Bureau was severely handicapped, as I have shown. Nevertheless, something was done. Abandoned lands were leased so long as they remained in the hands of the Bureau, and a total revenue of $400,000 derived from black tenants. Some other lands to which the nation had gained title were sold, and public lands were opened for the settlement of the few blacks who had tools and capital. The vision of landowning, however, the righteous and reasonable ambition for forty acres and a mule which ﬁlled the freedmen’s dreams, was doomed in most cases to disappointment. And those men of marvelous hind-sight, who to-day are seeking to preach the Negro back to the soil, know well, or ought to know, that it was here, in 1865, that the ﬁnest opportunity of binding the black peasant to the soil was lost. Yet, with help and striving, the Negro gained some land, and by 1874, in the one state of Georgia, owned near 350,000 acres. The greatest success of the Freedmen’s Bureau lay in the planting of the free school among Negroes, and the idea of free elementary education among all classes in the South. It not only called the schoolmistress through the benevolent agencies, and built them schoolhouses, but it helped discover and support such apostles of human development as Edmund Ware, Erastus Cravath, and Samuel Armstrong. State superintendents of education were appointed, and by 1870 150,000 children were in school. The opposition to Negro education was bitter in the South, for the South believed an educated Negro to be a dangerous Negro. And the South was not wholly wrong; for education among all kinds of men always has had, and always will have, an element of danger and revolution, of dissatisfaction and discontent. Nevertheless, men strive to know. It was some inkling of this paradox, even in the unquiet days of the Bureau, that allayed an opposition to human training, which still to-day lies smouldering, but not ﬂaming. Fisk, Atlanta, Howard, and Hampton were founded in these days, and nearly $6,000,000 was expended in ﬁve years for educational work, $750,000 of which came from the freedmen themselves. Such contributions, together with the buying of land and various other enterprises, showed that the ex-slave was handling some free capital already. The chief initial source of this was labor in the army, and his pay and bounty as a soldier. Payments to Negro soldiers were at ﬁrst complicated by the ignorance of the recipients, and the fact that the quotas of colored regiments from Northern states were largely ﬁlled by recruits from the South, unknown to their fellow soldiers. Consequently,

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payments were accompanied by such frauds that Congress, by joint resolution in 1867, put the whole matter in the hands of the Freedmen’s Bureau. In two years $6,000,000 was thus distributed to 5000 claimants, and in the end the sum exceeded $8,000,000. Even in this system, fraud was frequent; but still the work put needed capital in the hands of practical paupers, and some, at least, was well spent. The most perplexing and least successful part of the Bureau’s work lay in the exercise of its judicial functions. In a distracted land where slavery had hardly fallen, to keep the strong from wanton abuse of the weak, and the weak from gloating insolently over the half-shorn strength of the strong, was a thankless, hopeless task. The former masters of the land were peremptorily ordered about, seized and imprisoned, and punished over and again, with scant courtesy from army ofﬁcers. The former slaves were intimidated, beaten, raped, and butchered by angry and revengeful men. Bureau courts tended to become centres simply for punishing whites, while the regular civil courts tended to become solely institutions for perpetuating the slavery of blacks. Almost every law and method ingenuity could devise was employed by the legislatures to reduce the Negroes to serfdom—to make them the slaves of the state, if not of individual owners; while the Bureau ofﬁcials too often were found striving to put the ‘‘bottom rail on top,’’ and give the freedmen a power and independence which they could not yet use. It is all well enough for us of another generation to wax wise with advice to those who bore the burden in the heat of the day. It is full easy now to see that the man who lost home, fortune, and family at a stroke, and saw his land ruled by ‘‘mules and niggers,’’ was really beneﬁted by the passing of slavery. It is not difﬁcult now to say to the young freedman, cheated and cuffed about, who has seen his father’s head beaten to a jelly and his own mother namelessly assaulted, that the meek shall inherit the earth. Above all, nothing is more convenient than to heap on the Freedmen’s Bureau all the evils of that evil day, and damn it utterly for every mistake and blunder that was made. All this is easy, but it is neither sensible nor just. Some one had blundered, but that was long before Oliver Howard was born; there was criminal aggression and heedless neglect, but without some system of control there would have been far more than there was. Had that control been from within, the Negro would have been reenslaved, to all intents and purposes. Coming as the control did from without, perfect men and methods would have bettered all things; and even with imperfect agents and questionable methods, the work accomplished was not undeserving of much commendation. The regular Bureau court consisted of one representative of the employer, one of the Negro, and one of the Bureau. If the Bureau could have maintained a perfectly judicial attitude, this arrangement would have been ideal, and must in time have gained conﬁdence; but the nature of its other activities and the character of its personnel prejudiced the Bureau in favor of the black litigants, and led without doubt to much injustice and annoyance. On the other hand, to leave the Negro in the hands of Southern courts was impossible. What the Freedmen’s Bureau cost the nation is difﬁcult to determine accurately. Its methods of bookkeeping were not good, and the whole system of its work and records partook of the hurry and turmoil of the time. General Howard himself disbursed some $15,000,000 during his incumbency; but this includes the bounties paid colored soldiers, which perhaps should not be counted as an expense of the Bureau. In bounties, prize money, and all other expenses, the Bureau disbursed over $20,000,000 before all of its departments were ﬁnally closed. To this ought to be

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added the large expenses of the various departments of Negro affairs before 1865; but these are hardly extricable from war expenditures, nor can we estimate with any accuracy the contributions of benevolent societies during all these years. Such was the work of the Freedmen’s Bureau. To sum it up in brief, we may say: it set going a system of free labor; it established the black peasant proprietor; it secured the recognition of black freemen before courts of law; it founded the free public school in the South. On the other hand, it failed to establish good will between ex-masters and freedmen; to guard its work wholly from paternalistic methods that discouraged self- reliance; to make Negroes landholders in any considerable numbers. Its successes were the result of hard work, supplemented by the aid of philanthropists and the eager striving of black men. Its failures were the result of bad local agents, inherent difﬁculties of the work, and national neglect. The Freedmen’s Bureau expired by limitation in 1869, save its educational and bounty departments. The educational work came to an end in 1872, and General Howard’s connection with the Bureau ceased at that time. The work of paying bounties was transferred to the adjutant general’s ofﬁce, where it was continued three or four years longer. Such an institution, from its wide powers, great responsibilities, large control of moneys, and generally conspicuous position, was naturally open to repeated and bitter attacks. It sustained a searching congressional investigation at the instance of Fernando Wood in 1870. It was, with blunt discourtesy, transferred from Howard’s control, in his absence, to the supervision of Secretary of War Belknap in 1872, on the Secretary’s recommendation. Finally, in consequence of grave intimations of wrongdoing made by the Secretary and his subordinates, General Howard was court-martialed in 1874. In each of these trials, and in other attacks, the commissioner of the Freedmen’s Bureau was exonerated from any willful misdoing, and his work heartily commended. Nevertheless, many unpleasant things were brought to light: the methods of transacting the business of the Bureau were faulty; several cases of defalcation among ofﬁcials in the ﬁeld were proven, and further frauds hinted at; there were some business transactions which savored of dangerous speculation, if not dishonesty; and, above all, the smirch of the Freedmen’s Bank, which, while legally distinct from, was morally and practically a part of the Bureau, will ever blacken the record of this great institution. Not even ten additional years of slavery could have done as much to throttle the thrift of the freedmen as the mismanagement and bankruptcy of the savings bank chartered by the nation for their especial aid. Yet it is but fair to say that the perfect honesty of purpose and unselﬁsh devotion of General Howard have passed untarnished through the ﬁre of criticism. Not so with all his subordinates, although in the case of the great majority of these there were shown bravery and devotion to duty, even though sometimes linked to narrowness and incompetency. The most bitter attacks on the Freedmen’s Bureau were aimed not so much at its conduct or policy under the law as at the necessity for any such organization at all. Such attacks came naturally from the border states and the South, and they were summed up by Senator Davis, of Kentucky, when he moved to entitle the act of 1866 a bill ‘‘to promote strife and conﬂict between the white and black races … by a grant of unconstitutional power.’’ The argument was of tremendous strength, but its very strength was its weakness. For, argued the plain common sense of the nation, if it is unconstitutional, unpracticable, and futile for the nation to stand guardian over its helpless wards, then there is left but one alternative: to make those wards their own guardians by arming them with the ballot. The alternative offered

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the nation then was not between full and restricted Negro suffrage; else every sensible man, black and white, would easily have chosen the latter. It was rather a choice between suffrage and slavery, after endless blood and gold had ﬂowed to sweep human bondage away. Not a single Southern legislature stood ready to admit a Negro, under any conditions, to the polls; not a single Southern legislature believed free Negro labor was possible without a system of restrictions that took all its freedom away; there was scarcely a white man in the South who did not honestly regard emancipation as a crime, and its practical nulliﬁcation as a duty. In such a situation, the granting of the ballot to the black man was a necessity, the very least a guilty nation could grant a wronged race. Had the opposition to government guardianship of Negroes been less bitter, and the attachment to the slave system less strong, the social seer can well imagine a far better policy: a permanent Freedmen’s Bureau, with a national system of Negro schools; a carefully supervised employment and labor ofﬁce; a system of impartial protection before the regular courts; and such institutions for social betterment as savings banks, land and building associations, and social settlements. All this vast expenditure of money and brains might have formed a great school of prospective citizenship, and solved in a way we have not yet solved the most perplexing and persistent of the Negro problems. That such an institution was unthinkable in 1870 was due in part to certain acts of the Freedmen’s Bureau itself. It came to regard its work as merely temporary, and Negro suffrage as a ﬁnal answer to all present perplexities. The political ambition of many of its agents and proteges led it far aﬁeld into questionable activities, until the South, nursing its own deep prejudices, came easily to ignore all the good deeds of the Bureau, and hate its very name with perfect hatred. So the Freedmen’s Bureau died, and its child was the Fifteenth Amendment. The passing of a great human institution before its work is done, like the untimely passing of a single soul, but leaves a legacy of striving for other men. The legacy of the Freedmen’s Bureau is the heavy heritage of this generation. Today, when new and vaster problems are destined to strain every ﬁbre of the national mind and soul, would it not be well to count this legacy honestly and carefully? For this much all men know: despite compromise, struggle, war, and struggle, the Negro is not free. In the backwoods of the Gulf states, for miles and miles, he may not leave the plantation of his birth; in well-nigh the whole rural South the black farmers are peons, bound by law and custom to an economic slavery, from which the only escape is death or the penitentiary. In the most cultured sections and cities of the South the Negroes are a segregated servile caste, with restricted rights and privileges. Before the courts, both in law and custom, they stand on a different and peculiar basis. Taxation without representation is the rule of their political life. And the result of all this is, and in nature must have been, lawlessness and crime. That is the large legacy of the Freedmen’s Bureau, the work it did not do because it could not. I have seen a land right merry with the sun; where children sing, and rolling hills lie like passioned women, wanton with harvest. And there in the King’s Highway sat and sits a ﬁgure, veiled and bowed, by which the traveler’s footsteps hasten as they go. On the tainted air broods fear. Three centuries’ thought has been the raising and unveiling of that bowed human heart, and now, behold, my fellows, a century new for the duty and the deed. The problem of the twentieth century is the problem of the color line. Source: The Atlantic Monthly, March 1901, Volume 87, No. 519: pages 354–365.

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69. The Free Colored People of North Carolina, 1902 CHARLES WADDELL CHESNUTT This essay by writer Charles W. Chesnutt addresses the transformative lifestyle of individuals living in the South after the Civil War. He discusses the movement of industry to the northern states and the need for young blacks to seek education in the industrial trades to ensure ﬁnancial stability, self-esteem, and a better lifestyle. IN our generalizations upon American history—and the American people are prone to loose generalization, especially where the Negro is concerned—it is ordinarily assumed that the entire colored race was set free as the result of the Civil War. While this is true in a broad, moral sense, there was, nevertheless, a very considerable technical exception in the case of several hundred thousand free people of color, a great many of whom were residents of the Southern States. Although the emancipation of their race brought to these a larger measure of liberty than they had previously enjoyed, it did not confer upon them personal freedom, which they possessed already. These free colored people were variously distributed, being most numerous, perhaps, in Maryland, where, in the year 1850, for example, in a state with 87,189 slaves, there were 83,942 free colored people, the white population of the State being 515,918; and perhaps least numerous in Georgia, of all the slave states, where, to a slave population of 462,198, there were only 351 free people of color, or less than three-fourths of one percent, as against the about ﬁfty per cent. in Maryland. Next to Maryland came Virginia, with 58,042 free colored people, North Carolina with 30,463, Louisiana with 18,647, (of whom 10,939 were in the parish of New Orleans alone), and South Carolina with 9,914. For these statistics, I have of course referred to the census reports for the years mentioned. In the year 1850, according to the same authority, there were in the state of North Carolina 553,028 white people, 288,548 slaves, and 27,463 free colored people. In 1860, the white population of the state was 631,100, slaves 331,059, free colored people, 30,463. These ﬁgures for 1850 and 1860 show that between nine and ten per cent. of the colored population, and about three per cent. of the total population in each of those years, were free colored people, the ratio of increase during the intervening period being inconsiderable. In the decade preceding 1850 the ratio of increase had been somewhat different. From 1840 to 1850 the white population of the state had increased 14.05 per cent., the slave population 17.38 per cent., the free colored population 20.81 per cent. In the long period from 1790 to 1860, during which the total percentage of increase for the whole population of the state was 700.16, that of the whites was 750.30 per cent., that of the free colored people 720.65 per cent., and that of the slave population but 450 per cent., the total increase in free population being 747.56 per cent. It seems altogether probable that but for the radical change in the character of slavery, following the invention of the cotton-gin and the consequent great demand for laborers upon the far Southern plantations, which turned the border states into breeding-grounds for slaves, the forces of freedom might in time have overcome those of slavery, and the institution might have died a natural death, as it already had in the Northern States, and as it subsequently did in Brazil and Cuba. To these changed industrial conditions was due, in all probability, in the decade following 1850, the stationary ratio of free colored people to slaves against the larger increase

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from 1840 to 1850. The gradual growth of the slave power had discouraged the manumission of slaves, had resulted in legislation curtailing the rights and privileges of free people of color, and had driven many of these to seek homes in the North and West, in communities where, if not warmly welcomed as citizens, they were at least tolerated as freemen. This free colored population was by no means evenly distributed throughout the state, but was mainly found along or near the eastern seaboard, in what is now known as the ‘‘black district’’ of North Carolina. In Craven county, more than oneﬁfth of the colored population were free; in Halifax county, where the colored population was double that of the whites, one-fourth of the colored were free. In Hertford county, with 3,947 whites and 4,445 slaves, there were 1,112 free colored. In Pasquotank county, with a white and colored population almost evenly balanced, onethird of the colored people were free. In some counties, for instance in that of Jackson, a mountainous county in the west of the state, where the Negroes were but an insigniﬁcant element, the population stood 5,241 whites, 268 slaves, and three free colored persons. The growth of this considerable element of free colored people had been due to several causes. In the eighteenth century, slavery in North Carolina had been of a somewhat mild character. There had been large estates along the seaboard and the water-courses, but the larger part of the population had been composed of small planters or farmers, whose slaves were few in number, too few indeed to be herded into slave quarters, but employed largely as domestic servants, and working side by side with their masters in ﬁeld and forest, and sharing with them the same rude fare. The Scotch-Irish Presbyterian strain in the white people of North Carolina brought with it a ﬁerce love of liberty, which was strongly manifested, for example, in the Mecklenburg declaration of independence, which preceded that at Philadelphia; and while this love of liberty was reconciled with slavery, the mere prejudice against race had not yet excluded all persons of Negro blood from its benign inﬂuence. Thus, in the earlier history of the state, the civil status of the inhabitants was largely regulated by condition rather than by color. To be a freeman meant to enjoy many of the fundamental rights of citizenship. Free men of color in North Carolina exercised the right of suffrage until 1835, when the constitution was amended to restrict this privilege to white men. It may be remarked, in passing, that prior to 1860, Jews could not vote in North Carolina. The right of marriage between whites and free persons of color was not restricted by law until the year 1830, though social prejudice had always discouraged it. The mildness of slavery, which fostered kindly feelings between master and slave, often led to voluntary manumission. The superior morality which characterized the upper ranks of white women, so adequately protected by slavery, did not exist in anything like the same degree among the poorer classes, and occasional marriages, more or less legal, between free Negroes and slaves and poor white women, resulted in at least a small number of colored children, who followed the condition of their white mothers. I have personal knowledge of two free colored families of such origin, dating back to the eighteenth century, whose descendants in each case run into the hundreds. There was also a considerable Quaker element in the population, whose inﬂuence was cast against slavery, not in any ﬁerce polemical spirit, but in such a way as to soften its rigors and promote gradual emancipation. Another source of free colored people in certain counties was the remnant of the Cherokee and

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Tuscarora Indians, who, mingling with the Negroes and poor whites, left more or less of their blood among the colored people of the state. By the law of partitus sequitur ventrem, which is a law of nature as well as of nations, the child of a free mother was always free, no matter what its color or the status of its father, and many free colored people were of female Indian ancestry. One of these curiously mixed people left his mark upon the history of the state— a bloody mark, too, for the Indian in him did not passively endure the things to which the Negro strain rendered him subject. Henry Berry Lowrey was what was known as a ‘‘Scufﬂetown mu-latto’’ Scufﬂetown being a rambling community in Robeson county, N. C., inhabited mainly by people of this origin. His father, a prosperous farmer, was impressed, like other free Negroes, during the Civ-il War, for service upon the Confederate public works. He resisted and was shot to death with several sons who were assisting him. A younger son, Henry Berry Lowrey, swore an oath to avenge the injury, and a few years later carried it out with true Indian persistence and ferocity. During a career of murder and robbery extending over several years, in which he was aided by an organized band of desperadoes who rendezvoused in inaccessible swamps and terrorized the county, he killed every white man concerned in his father’s death, and incidentally several others who interfered with his plans, making in all a total of some thirty killings. A body of romance grew up about this swarthy Robin Hood, who, armed to the teeth, would freely walk into the towns and about the railroad stations, knowing full well that there was a price upon his head, but relying for safety upon the sympathy of the blacks and the fears of the whites. His pretty yellow wife, ‘‘Rhody,’’ was known as ‘‘the queen of Scufﬂetown.’’ Northern reporters came down to write him up. An astute Boston detective who penetrated, under false colors, to his stronghold, is said to have been put to death with savage tortures. A state ofﬁcial was once conducted, by devious paths, under Lowrey’s safeguard, to the outlaw’s camp, in order that he might see for himself how difﬁcult it would be to dislodge them. A dime novel was founded upon his exploits. The state offered ten thousand, the Federal government, ﬁve thousand dollars for his capture, and a regiment of Federal troops was sent to subdue him, his career resembling very much that of the picturesque Italian bandit who has recently been captured after a long career of crime. Lowrey only succumbed in the end to a bullet from the hand of a treacherous comrade, and there is even yet a tradition that he escaped and made his way to a distant state. Some years ago these mixed Indians and Negroes were recognized by the North Carolina legislature as ‘‘Croatan Indians,’’ being supposed to have descended from a tribe of that name and the whites of the lost ﬁrst white colony of Virginia. They are allowed, among other special privileges conferred by this legislation, to have separate schools of their own, being placed, in certain other respects, upon a plane somewhat above that of the Negroes and a little below that of the whites. I may add that North Carolina was a favorite refuge for runaway slaves and indentured servants from the richer colonies north and south of it. It may thus be plainly seen how a considerable body of free colored people sprang up within the borders of the state. The status of these people, prior to the Civil War, was anomalous but tenable. Many of them, perhaps most of them, were as we have seen, persons of mixed blood, and received, with their dower of white blood, an intellectual and physical heritage of which social prejudice could not entirely rob them, and which helped them to

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prosperity in certain walks of life. The tie of kinship was sometimes recognized, and brought with it property, sympathy and opportunity which the black did not always enjoy. Many free colored men were skilled mechanics. The State House at Raleigh was built by colored workmen, under a foreman of the same race. I am acquainted with a family now living in the North, whose Negro grandfather was the leading tailor, in Newbern, N. C. He owned a pew on the ground ﬂoor of the church which he attended, and was buried in the cemetery where white people were laid to rest. In the town where I went to live when a child, just after the Civil War, nearly all the mechanics were men of color. One of these, a saddler by trade, had himself been the owner, before the war, of a large plantation and several slaves. He had been constrained by force of circumstances to invest in Confederate bonds, but despite this loss, he still had left a considerable tract of land, a brick store, and a handsome town residence, and was able to send one of his sons, immediately after the war, to a Northern school, where he read law, and returning to his native state, was admitted to the bar and has ever since practiced his profession. This was an old free family, descended from a free West Indian female ancestor. For historical reasons, which applied to the whole race, slave and free, these families were, before the war, most clearly traceable through the female line. The principal cabinet-maker and undertaker in the town was an old white man whose workmen were colored. One of these practically inherited what was left of the business after the introduction of factory-made furniture from the North, and has been for many years the leading undertaker of the town. The tailors, shoemakers, wheelwrights and blacksmiths were men of color, as were the carpenters, bricklayers and plasterers. It is often said, as an argument for slavery, by the still numerous apologists for that institution, that these skilled artisans have not passed on to the next generation the trades acquired by them under, if not in, slavery. This failure is generally ascribed to the shiftlessness of the race in freedom, and to the indisposition of the younger men to devote themselves to hard work. But the assumption is not always correct; there are still many competent colored mechanics in the South. In the town of which I have spoken, for instance, colored men are still the barbers, blacksmiths, masons and carpenters. And while there has been such a falling off, partly due to the unsettled conditions resulting from emancipation and inseparable from so sudden and radical a change, another reason for it exists in the altered industrial conditions which confront mechanics all over the country, due mainly to the growth of manufactures and the increased ease and cheapness of transportation. The shoes which were formerly made by hand are now manufactured in Massachusetts and sold, with a portrait of the maker stamped upon the sole, for less money than the most poorly paid mechanic could afford to make them for by hand. The buggies and wagons, to produce which kept a large factory, in the town where I lived, in constant operation, are now made in Cincinnati and other Northern cities, and delivered in North Carolina for a price prohibitive of manufacture by hand. Furniture is made at Grand Rapids, cofﬁns in one place, and clothing in still another. The blacksmith buys his horseshoe ready made, in assorted sizes, and has merely to trim the hoof and fasten them on with machine-made nails. The shoemaker has degenerated into the cobbler; the tinner merely keeps a shop for the sale of tinware; the undertaker merely embalms the dead and conducts funerals, and tombstones are sold by catalogue with blanks for the insertion of names and dates before delivery. In some

70. Of the Training of Black Men, September 1902 367

of the new industries which have sprung up in the South, such, for instance, as cotton-milling, Negroes are not employed. Hence, in large part through the operation of social forces beyond any control on their part, they have lost their hereditary employments, and these have only in part been replaced by employment in tobacco factories and in iron mines and mills. The general decline of the apprenticeship system which has affected black and white alike, is also in some degree responsible for the dearth of trained mechanics in the South. Even in Northern cities the ﬁner grades of stone-cutting, bricklaying, carpentry and cabinet work, and practically all the mosaic and terra-cotta work and ﬁne interior decorating, is done by workmen of foreign birth and training. Many of the younger colored people who might have learned trades, have found worthy employment as teachers and preachers; but the servile occupations into which so many of the remainder have drifted by following the line of least resistance, are a poor substitute for the independent position of the skilled mechanic. The establishment, for the colored race, of such institutions as Hampton and Tuskegee, not only replaces the apprenticeship system, but ﬁlls a growing industrial want. A multiplication of such agencies will enable the ‘‘free colored people’’ of the next generation, who now embrace the whole race and will number some ten millions or more, to regain these lost arts, and through them, by industry and thrift, under intelligent leadership, to win that equality of citizenship of which they are now grasping, perhaps, somewhat more than the shadow but something less than the substance. Source: The Southern Workman, volume 31, number 3: pp. 136–141. Hampton Institute, Hampton, VA. Copyright C 1999, by the Rector and Visitors of the University of Virginia. Courtesy of The University of Virginia Library.

70. Of the Training of Black Men, September 1902 W. E. B. DUBOIS In the fall of 1902, W.E.B. DuBois wrote an article in The Atlantic where he argued against the then-popular idea of training young black men as tradesmen for economic purposes alone. This approach of teaching black men trades alone was a shallow solution to a deeper problem faced by all blacks in America—assimilation into mainstream American life. Merely training them to work as carpenters, masons, and other tradesmen belittled them in their own eyes and in the eyes of the world. DuBois wrote that better race relations required broader education of young black men so that America would be populated by two self-respecting, cultured, and educated races, not one elite and the other a resentful minority. From the shimmering swirl of waters where many, many thoughts ago the slaveship ﬁrst saw the square tower of Jamestown have ﬂowed down to our day three streams of thinking: one from the larger world here and over-seas, saying, the multiplying of human wants in culture lands calls for the world-wide co-operation of men in satisfying them. Hence arises a new human unity, pulling the ends of earth nearer, and all men, black, yellow, and white. The larger humanity strives to feel in this contact of living nations and sleeping hordes a thrill of new life in the world, crying, If the contact of Life and Sleep be Death, shame on such Life. To be sure, behind this thought lurks the afterthought of force and dominion,—the making of brown men to delve when the temptation of beads and red calico cloys.

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The second thought streaming from the death-ship and the curving river is the thought of the older South: the sincere and passionate belief that somewhere between men and cattle God created a tertium quid, and called it a Negro,—a clownish, simple creature, at times even lovable within its limitations, but straitly foreordained to walk within the Veil. To be sure, behind the thought lurks the afterthought,—some of them with favoring chance might become men, but in sheer self-defense we dare not let them, and build about them walls so high, and hang between them and the light a veil so thick, that they shall not even think of breaking through. And last of all there trickles down that third and darker thought, the thought of the things themselves, the confused half-conscious mutter of men who are black and whitened, crying Liberty, Freedom, Opportunity—vouchsafe to us, O boastful World, the chance of living men! To be sure, behind the thought lurks the afterthought: suppose, after all, the World is right and we are less than men? Suppose this mad impulse within is all wrong, some mock mirage from the untrue? So here we stand among thoughts of human unity, even through conquest and slavery; the inferiority of black men, even if forced by fraud; a shriek in the night for the freedom of men who themselves are not yet sure of their right to demand it. This is the tangle of thought and afterthought wherein we are called to solve the problem of training men for life. Behind all its curiousness, so attractive alike to sage and dilettante, lie its dim dangers, throwing across us shadows at once grotesque and awful. Plain it is to us that what the world seeks through desert and wild we have within our threshold;—a stalwart laboring force, suited to the semi-tropics; if, deaf to the voice of the Zeitgeist, we refuse to use and develop these men, we risk poverty and loss. If, on the other hand, seized by the brutal afterthought, we debauch the race thus caught in our talons, selﬁshly sucking their blood and brains in the future as in the past, what shall save us from national decadence? Only that saner selﬁshness which, Education teaches men, can ﬁnd the rights of all in the whirl of work. Source: The Atlantic Monthly, September 1902, Volume 90, No. 539: pages 289–297.

71. The Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U.S.A., An address to the American Negro, 1907 This is an address to the American Negro written by the Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U.S.A. and delivered at an annual exhibition held in Virginia to consolidate and promote Negro thrift, progress, and commerce after emancipation. To the Ten Million Negroes of the United States, Greeting … Whereas a large number of representative men and women of the race secured, under the laws of Virginia, a charter for the Negro Development and Exposition Company of the United States of America, on the 13th day of August, 1903, which company was organized for the purpose of holding a separate exhibit on the occasion of the 300th anniversary of the landing of the ﬁrst English speaking people of this country at Jamestown. Va., but before the incorporation of this company, there was organized and chartered the Jamestown Exposition Company, under the laws of Virginia, for the purpose of celebrating the said 300th anniversary, by holding a land and naval exhibition at or near Hampton Roads, Va.

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This last company is ofﬁcered, owned and operated by the white people of this country. The Negro felt that in as much as there was to be a celebration of the said event by the white race, it would be a ﬁt and opportune time for the Negro to come upon the scenes and there present to the nations of the earth, the evidence of his thrift and progress, by putting upon exhibition the articles and things made and invented, created and produced by the race since its emancipation, and that in accordance with the uncertain and unsatisfactory conditions now existing as to the Negro in this country, that a creditable exhibit of his industrial capacities would result in untold good to the entire race, that the Negro question has been and is being discussed all over this country, some taking a favorable view of the situation, others taking different views, leaving him in an unsatisfactory position as to his relation to the government and the country in which he lives. A creditable exhibit would have a tendency to show just what the Negro can do, what he has done, and what he is doing in the solution of the much talked of question, or problem. That in this particular time, such an exhibit would be productive of great results from every point of view. The fact that the nations of the earth have been invited by the President of the United States to participate in the said exposition, is another evidence that such and exhibit would be of untold beneﬁt to the Negro. It would also be stimulating to the Negro to see for himself what he can do, as such an exhibit would bring together the entire race with its exhibits to be thus viewed, which under no other circumstances it could have done. After the incorporation of the said Negro Development and Exposition Company, its executive ofﬁcers conferred with the Jamestown Company and secured concessions to hold a separate and distinct exhibit on the occasion of the great national and international exposition to enable the Negro to produce the results above referred to. The concessions were in every way satisfactory and agreeable to both the Negro Development and Exposition Company and the Jamestown Exposition Company. After this concession, the said Negro Development and Exposition Company proceeded to present its claim for a special exhibit on account of the race to the American people regardless of race or color. Its ﬁrst effort was for the endorsement of the National Negro Business League, of which Dr. Booker T. Washington is president. Its second effort was to secure the endorsement and support of the National Negro Baptist Convention at its session in the city of Chicago on the 27th day of October 1905, which endorsement was unanimously received. It received the endorsement of a number of the State Baptist Conventions, and of the State A. M. E. Conferences including that of Virginia. It received the endorsement of the State Baptist Conventions of North Carolina, South Carolina and a number of district and other conventions of the race in the various States of the Union. Among them were the Florida State Negro Business League, and the Mississippi State Negro Business League. We carried the cause from State to State. We have had resolutions adopted endorsing our efforts in nearly every State of the Union, where the race population justiﬁed the adoption of such resolutions. We have spoken and received the endorsement in mass meetings assembled in the cities in the North and West. The company’s authorized capital stock was ﬁxed at $800,000 at the par value of $10 each. We saw that the money could not be raised in time to have the desired result by the sale of the capital stock among the members of our own race. We, therefore, appealed to the governors of the different States, where the colored

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people were in large numbers of the colored population justiﬁed asking that they recommend to their legislatures the appropriation of an amount of money, justiﬁed by the numbers of Negroes, to aid and assist the Negro of their respective States in uniting with their brethren in Virginia in making a creditable exhibit of their achievements from their said States. From them we received favorable response. A large number of the governors recommended such an appropriation, and in a number of States appropriations have been made for the said State’s participation in the Jamestown Exposition. We have appealed to the State commissioners, appointed by their respective governors, asking that a proportion of the appropriation thus made, be set apart to assist the Negro of that State in the part he desires to take in connection with the Negro exhibit at the Jamestown Exposition. We have appeared before the committees of several legislatures. We have presented the cause of the Negroes and asked the legislatures to provide for them. Then, for fear that the States might not act as promptly as we hoped to or as satisfactorily as we hoped they would, we appealed to the president of the United States, and asked for the inﬂuence of his good ofﬁce in securing an appropriation from the national government. The mere calling the President’s attention to the situation secured his immediate endorsement and his pledge of support in our effort to get governmental aid in this laudable enterprise. To emphasize his position in the matter on the occasion of his visit in the South in passing through Richmond, Va., on the 18th day of October, 1905, President Roosevelt stopped the procession that was escorting him through the city of Richmond when it reached the head-quarters of the Negro Development and Exposition Company, and there called for Giles B. Jackson, the Director General of the said company, and addressing him, said in part; ‘‘Mr. Jackson, I congratulate you and your people on the magniﬁcient showing you have made in your development. I am with you. I assure you and your people that you have my hearty support in the efforts you are making to have a creditable exhibit of the achievements of your race and I commend you in the effort you are making for the betterment of the condition of your race.’’ Having thus received the public commendation of the President of the United States, we proceeded to Washington with a bill in hand prepared with pains and asking for the appropriation of $250,000 by the Congress of the United States to the Negro Development and Exposition Company, to aid him in his exhibit. This bill was referred to the committee on Industrial Arts and Expositions and after several meetings of the committee once in the city of Norfolk and on other occasions in the city of Washington, it was agreed to recommend the appropriation of $100,000 in the aid of the Negro Development and Exposition Company. This bill was likewise reported by the committee in the senate, and on the 30th day of June, it passed both houses of Congress and was signed by the president and there upon became the law of the land. It is needless for us to say that we had quite a difﬁcult task in getting this appropriation. We had to ﬁght those whom we had expected would be our friends, and those whom we had expected to meet in compact in opposition to this appropriation, were those who came to our rescue. We mean there was not a single white man in congress to raise his voice against us. It passed congress with only one vote against us and that was so faint one could not discover the one who said it. He did not mean it. If he had, he would have made himself heard and his identity known, therefore, we regard it regard it that the

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bill, appropriating this $100,000 to aid the Negro, was passed without a single voice against it. But, strange as it may appear, there were those among our own race, who wrote letters to congress protesting against governmental aid of the Negro Development and Exposition Company, and these were men of learning, as we are told, but their effort was so preposterous that it made friends for us in congress. The white man saw that any Negro who opposed such an appropriation was an enemy to himself and his race, hence, the opposition of the few, simply made friends for us. We have not an unkind word to say against them or anybody else. The fact that the government has put its seal of approval upon the effort of the Negro Development and Exposition Company and its ofﬁcers by making the appropriation to aid it in its work, is sufﬁcient to commend the said company to the entire Negro race and to the American people. It does commend it, and in no uncertain tone, for when the government of the United States passes an act appropriating $1,000,000, it puts its commendation upon it. When the Congress of the United States passes an act appropriating $1.00 to any cause, it carries with it its commendation to the world. The committee on Industrial Arts and Expositions investigated everything pertaining to the Negro Development and Exposition Company. They had meetings after meetings, and Negro after Negro appeared before them, either in writing or otherwise, and tried to throw cold water upon the efforts of the Negro in Virginia, but every step they made redowned to the beneﬁt of the Negro Development and Exposition Company. The harder the Negro fought it the better faith the white man had in it, because the Negro could not make the argument sufﬁciently strong against the appropriation to convince an illiterate man, much less a member of congress, that the Negro exhibit was not the thing to be had. The fact that there was a Negro department at the Atlanta Exposition, which was supported by governmental aid, and the fact that there was a Negro department at the Charleston Exposition, which was supported by governmental aid, and the fact that the Negro exhibit was gathered together by the authorities of the national government and carried to Paris, and there put upon exhibition, all three of which exhibitions were declared a success, have caused our opposers to abandon all opposition, and to unite with the Negro Development and Exposition Company to make the desired success of the exposition. They were the pride of the Negro race. This alone was argument in favor of the Negro exhibit at the Jamestown Exposition, and left no room for the opposers to make a stand. Now that all of this has happened and the Negro Development and Exposition Company is still marching to the front with the aid of the government, and is planning to have a gigantic exhibit at the Jamestown Exposition, and that the government of the United States, by its act has removed all doubt as to the success of the exhibit and has declared its faith in the management of the Negro Development and Exposition Company, the thing now to do is for the whole race, even those who differ with us, to unite as one and carry forward the great work of creating the gigantic exhibit on behalf of the Negro race of this country at the Jamestown Exposition. The argument that the Negro exhibit was a Jim Crow affair, has been knocked out by the act of the government and by the act of the Negro Development and Exposition Company. The fact that the company is owned and ofﬁcered by the Negro himself and was made and created on his motion, removed any taint of Jim Crowism. If the Negro

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Development and Exposition Company is a Jim Crow affair, then every institution of learning, owned and ofﬁcered by Negroes, is likewise a Jim Crow affair; every church, in which Negroes worship and over which our bishops preside, is a Jim Crow affair. If one is a Jim Crow affair, then the others is. We say neither is. The Negro Development and Exposition Company, and the church, and the institution of learning, owned and operated by Negroes, each is a separate institution for the beneﬁt of the Negro exhibit at the Jamestown Exposition. Argument has been produced against the exhibit because of the Jim Crow car laws, that exist in the Southern States. This we deplore, and our position is known. We were so much opposed to the law, that Giles B. Jackson, the Director General of this company, appeared before the legislative committee on roads and internal navigation of the Virginia legislature, and opposed the enactment of this law. With all his vim, oratory, force , and effect. He made it possible for a committee, that was headed by Dr. Atkins, of Hampton, Va., to appear before the said committee and enter a solemn protest, but after all the bill was enacted. It was only in keeping with all the Southern States. It is now the law, and as law-abiding citizens, we are compelled to bow in humble submission. If the State is insufﬁcient to compel us to obey the law, the United States government, under the constitution, would have to intervene until we were subjected under the laws of the State. Then, too, is it not the proper thing for us to do to make the best terms we can with railroads since they have the power to give equal accommodation to both races, that being the law of different Southern States that the races should be separated that no distinction should be made as to accommodation? It is incumbent on the Negro to stop kicking and quarreling, and go to the law and to the heads of the authorities of the States and ask that the railroads be required to give equal accommodation for the colored passengers, and this will be done. But whether the citizens of the different States do it or not, the Negro Development and Exposition Company, having in charge the Negro exhibit at Jamestown, will see to it that equal and good accommodations will be afforded to the Negro travelers, to and from the exposition. The Negro Development and Exposition Company is making itself busy in looking after this part of the program. It will take up the matter with the heads of the railroad companies. In fact, it has already done so with some of the companies and they have pledged their word and honor that good, clean and satisfactory accommodations will be given to the Negro travelers from the North, South, East and West. That they shall have no reason to complain, other than the fact that they will not be riding with the white folks. They will be riding together in clean, decent and respectable cars with efﬁcient service. Those traveling, who ﬁnd any fault with the management, will please report the same to Giles B. Jackson, the Director General and the general counsel for the Negro Development and Exposition Company, of U. S. A., and he will take the matter up immediately with the railroad companies and see to it that there shall not be any other occasion for complaint. Col. Jackson is on good terms with the railroad companies, but if they fail to do their duty, the aid of the corporation commission, having charge of the overseeing of all the railroads of Virginia, will adjust matters. This commission was made and created under the constitution of Virginia for the purpose of enforcing the laws, and its aid will be invoked whenever the occasion requires, but it is hoped and believed that the occasion will not require it. The railroad and steamboat companies will make special effort to avoid any complaint from any travelers on all lines and roads.

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We issue this address that the members of our race may thoroughly understand the true condition of affairs and that they may not be afraid to come to the exposition. The fact that there will be crowds of people coming from all over the country to the exposition will make it convenient for the reunion of families, that have been separated for ten, twenty, yes, thirty years. The opportunity will be afforded for the meeting of our friends, whom we have not seen since the war. The opportunity will be afforded for the meeting of our kin-folks and relatives, whom we have not seen since our emancipation. Every car coming will bring lots of our race, every boat will be loaded down. On every day there will be those who have not seen each other for years. Source: Richmond, Va.: The Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U.S.A., 1907. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

72. The Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U.S.A., An address to the American Negro on ‘‘Separate but Equal’’ doctrines, 1907 Written by the Negro Development and Exposition Company, this essay was of particular interest to Negroes who found navigating their surroundings and everyday life difﬁcult in a society where ‘‘separate but equal’’ was not only unjust law, but not even a reality. The essay focused on the difﬁcult task of using public accommodations. Board and lodging will be the same as it is now. No one will be allowed to charge more than the usual price. Board and lodging can be secured in the families and hotels in Norfolk, Hampton, Phoebus, Newport News and the surrounding towns … Ample accommodations will be made by which persons can reach the exposition grounds in twenty-ﬁve minutes. Street facilities and bus lines will be in abundance. The colored people in the city of Norfolk are now organizing a transportation line with the view of running carriages of all kinds and busses into the grounds. The Jamestown Exposition Company will issue their proclamation calling upon the people to do justice between man and man. The authorities of Virginia will see to it that no man will be put to inconvenience or prosecuted unless he is proven guilty of violating the laws of the land. The law is not made to punish the just and law abiding citizens but it is made to punish the offenders of the law, and it is made to protect the just and those who come under its protection. There are those among both races whom the law was made to subdue. It will not allow them to predominate or to obstruct the law abiding members of any race, who shall come upon the soil of Virginia. The judges of our courts are conservative. We speak from our own knowledge of practice before the bar for twenty years. No man will be unfairly dealt with, but he must obey the law. We mean the rowdy and shiftless element that might drift among us. They will ﬁnd the white and black men united to suppress them, if they commence to evade the law or hinder others in their pursuit of happiness. The Negro will have no complaint to make when he comes to the exposition. We vouch for it that the ﬁrst carload that comes here will go back with such good news and glad tidings that many more will be anxious to come. This remains to be seen, that we understand the situation and predict this as the result of careful study of the situation.

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Voices of the African American Experience Source: Richmond, Va.: The Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U.S.A., 1907. Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Daniel A.P. Murray Pamphlets Collection.

73. The Flat Hunters: a Musical Satire on Moving Day, 1914 JUNIE McCREE This is an excerpt from a stage production of Negro theater by a group who called themselves ‘‘The Flat Hunters.’’ It is housed in historical archives about the American variety stage and vaudeveille. Introduction: Cast: Henry Fish … Nahitabel Fish (his wife) Scarletina (Her sister) Enter Nahitabel and Scarletine, carrying hat boxes neatly ribboned etc. Henry carries a long trunk, two chairs fastened to each end, bird cage with bird inside and other junk he decided to carry. To make it funny and look as though he was carrying the entire furnishings of a ﬂat. The girls enter ﬁrst—he follows and remains R. They go centre. SCENE—STREET SONG— ‘‘Moving Day’’ Verse (Nahitabel and Scarletina) We’ve been hunting ﬂats now since the middle of September, And to carry such a burden calls for spunk Henry (set trunk and junk down) The only burden carried now as far as I remember Is you made me carry both this bird and trunk N&S We’re looking for a ﬂat unfurnished ﬁve rooms and a bath, The bath is most essential to console HENRY The reason that the bath is really such a consolation It’s the most essential place to keep our coal CHORUS N&S (Pretty song and dance moves) Moving Day, Moving Day Made by woman ﬁrst of each October, HENRY I must say that moving day, Was never made by man if he was sober N&S We know that movin’ day is just like play It’s simple exercise for any man. HENRY But his bones just ache him, When they take him

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From a moving van (Girls go into soft dance, music is very soft, during dance, following dialogue, Henry remains on the trunk watching the dancers.) N. I love to dance, don’t you? SCARLETINE I adore it. HENRY If yo’ all had toted this trunk around for ten hours your terpsichorean affection would lose some of its ardor. SCARLETINE I feel so light on my feet. HENRY I hope you light on yore head. SCARLETINE If you had your choice, which would you rather have, a tangoist or a turkey trotter to carry through life? HENRY I’d rather have an express wagon to carry this trunk. Source: Library of Congress, Rare Book and Special Collections Division.

74. The Negro Genius, May 1915 BENJAMIN BRAWLEY In this book excerpt, Benjamin Brawley, dean of Morehouse College in Atlanta, Georgia, discusses the genius within each individual regardless of racial history. In his lecture on ‘‘The Poetic Principle,’’ in leading down to his deﬁnition of poetry, Edgar Allan Poe has called attention to the three faculties, intellect, feeling, and will, and shown that poetry, that the whole realm of aesthetics in fact, is concerned primarily and solely with the second of these. Does it appeal to a sense of beauty? This is his sole test of a poem or of any work of art, the aim being neither to appeal to the intellect by satisfying the reason or inculcating truth, nor to appeal to the will by satisfying the moral sense or inculcating duty. This standard has often been criticized as narrow; yet it embodies a large and fundamental element of truth. If, now, we study the races that go to make up our cosmopolitan American life we shall ﬁnd that the three which most distinctively represent the faculties, intellect, feeling, and will, are respectively the Anglo-Saxon, the Negro, and the Jewish. Whatever achievement has been made by the AngloSaxon has been primarily in the domain of pure intellect. In religion, in business, in invention, in pure scholarship, the same principle holds; and examples are found in Jonathan Edwards, J. Pierpont Morgan, Thomas A. Edison, and in such scholars as Royce and Kittredge of the Harvard of today. Similarly the outstanding race in the history of the world for emphasis on the moral or religious element of life has been the Jewish. Throughout the Old Testament the heart of Israel cries out to Jehovah, and through the law given on Sinai, the songs of the Psalmist, and the prophecies of Isaiah, the tradition of Israel has thrilled and inspired the entire human race.

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With reference now to the Negro two things are observable. One is that any distinction so far won by a member of the race in America has been almost always in some one of the arts; and the other is that any inﬂuence so far exerted by the Negro on American civilization has been primarily in the ﬁeld of esthetics. A man of science like Benjamin Banneker is the exception. To prove the point we may refer to a long line of beautiful singers, to the fervid oratory of Douglass, to the sensuous poetry of Dunbar, to the picturesque style of Du Bois, to the impressionism of the paintings of Tanner, and to the elemental sculpture of Meta Warrick Fuller. Even Booker Washington, most practical of Americans, proves the point, the distinguishing qualities of his speeches being anecdote and brilliant concrete illustration. Everyone must have observed the radical difference in the appearance of the homes of white people and Negroes of the peasant class in the South. If the white man is not himself cultivated, and if he has not been able to give to his children the advantages of culture, his home is most likely to be a bare, blank abode with no pictures and no ﬂowers. Such is not the case with the Negro. He is determined to have a picture, and if nothing better is obtainable he will paste a circus poster or a ﬂaring advertisement on the walls. The instinct for beauty insists upon an outlet; and there are few homes of Negroes of the humbler class that will not have a geranium on the windowsill or a rose-bush in the garden. If, too, we look at the matter conversely, we shall ﬁnd that those things which are most picturesque make to the Negro the readiest appeal. Red is his favorite color, simply because it is the most pronounced of all colors. Goethe’s ‘‘Faust’’ can hardly be said to be a play designed primarily for the galleries. In general it might be supposed to rank with ‘‘Macbeth’’ or ‘‘She Stoops to Conquer’’ or ‘‘Richelieu.’’ One never sees it fail, however, that in any Southern city ‘‘Faust’’ will ﬁll the gallery with the so-called lower class of Negro people, who would never dream of going to see one of the other plays just mentioned; and the applause never leaves one in doubt as to the reasons for Goethe’s popularity. It is the suggestiveness of the love scenes, the red costume of Mephistopheles, the electrical effects, and the rain of ﬁre, that give the thrill desired—all pure melodrama of course. ‘‘Faust’’ is a good show as well as a good play. In some of our communities Negroes are frequently known to ‘‘get happy’’ in church. Now a sermon on the rule of faith or the plan of salvation is never known to awaken such ecstacy. This rather accompanies a vivid portrayal of the beauties of heaven, with its walls of jasper, the angels with palms in their hands, and (summum bonum!) the feast of milk and honey. And just here is the dilemma faced by the occupants of a great many pulpits in Negro churches. Do the Negroes want scholarly training? Very frequently the cultured preacher will be inclined to answer in the negative. Do they want rant and shouting? Such a standard fails at once to satisfy the ever-increasing intelligence of the audience itself. The trouble is that the educated Negro minister too often leaves out of account the basic psychology of his audience. That preacher who will ultimately be the most successful with the Negro congregation will be the one who to scholarship and culture can join brilliant imagination and fervid rhetorical expression. When all of these qualities are brought together in their ﬁnest proportion the effect is irresistible. Some distinguished white preachers, who to their deep spirituality have joined lively rhetorical expression, have never failed to succeed with a Negro audience as well as with an Anglo-Saxon one. Noteworthy examples within recent years have been Dr. P. S. Henson and Dr. R. S. MacArthur. Gathering up the threads of our discussion so far, we ﬁnd that there is constant striving on the part of the Negro for beautiful or striking effect, that those things

75. Excerpt from the Marcus Garvey and Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA) Papers, 1919

which are most picturesque make the readiest appeal to his nature, and that in the sphere of religion he receives with most appreciation those discourses which are most imaginative in quality. In short, so far as the last point is concerned, it is not too much to assert that the Negro is thrilled, not so much by the moral as by the artistic and pictorial elements in religion. But there is something deeper than the sensuousness of beauty that makes for the possibilities of the Negro in the realm of the arts, and that is the soul of the race. The wail of the old melodies and the plaintive quality that is ever present in the Negro voice are but the reﬂection of a background of tragedy. No race can rise to the greatest heights of art until it has yearned and suffered. The Russians are a case in point. Such has been their background in oppression and striving that their literature and art today are marked by an unmistakable note of power. The same future beckons to the American Negro. There is something very elemental about the heart of the race, something that ﬁnds its origin in the African forest, in the sighing of the nightwind, and in the falling of the stars. There is something grim and stern about it all too, something that speaks of the lash, of the child torn from its mother’s bosom, of the dead body riddled with bullets and swinging all night from a limb by the roadside. What does all this mean but that the Negro is a thorough-going romanticist? The philosophy, the satires, the conventionalities of the age of reason mean little to him; but the freedom, the picturesqueness, the moodiness of Wordsworth’s day mean much. In his wild, weird melodies we follow once more the wanderings of the Ancient Mariner. In the fervid picture of the New Jerusalem we see the same emphasis on the concrete as in ‘‘To a Skylark’’ or the ‘‘Ode to the West Wind;’’ and under the spell of the Negro voice at its best we once more revel in the sensuousness of ‘‘The Eve of St. Agnes.’’ All of this of course does not mean that the Negro cannot rise to distinction in any sphere other than the arts, any more than it means that the Anglo-Saxon has not produced great painting and music. It does mean, however, that every race has its peculiar genius, and that, so far as we are at present able to judge, the Negro, with all of his manual labor, is destined to reach his greatest heights in the ﬁeld of the artistic. But the impulse needs to be watched. Romanticism very soon becomes unhealthy. The Negro has great gifts of voice and ear and soul; but so far much of his talent has not soared above the vaudeville stage. This is due mostly largely of course, to economic instability. It is the call of patriotism, however, that America should realize that the Negro has peculiar gifts which need all possible cultivation, and which will one day add to the glory of the country. Already his music is recognized as the most distinctive that the United States has yet produced. The possibilities of the race in literature and oratory, in sculpture and painting, are illimitable. Source: The Southern Workman, Volume 44. Hampton: Press of The Hampton Normal and AgriC 1999, by the Rector and Visitors of the University of cultural Institute, May, 1915. Copyright Virginia. Courtesy of The University of Virginia Library.

75. Excerpt from the Marcus Garvey and Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA) Papers, 1919 Marcus Garvey and the Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA) formed a critical link in black America’s centuries-long struggle for freedom, justice, and equality. As the leader of the largest organized mass movement in black history, Garvey is now best remembered as a champion of the back-to-Africa movement. In

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his own time he was hailed as a redeemer, a ‘‘Black Moses.’’ Much of history has labeled Garvey as a fool and worse, a hustler who took advantage of his own people. That history is tainted by the scourge of systemic racism throughout history that has plagued black leaders who were hunted by slave catchers or, more ofﬁcially, by the Justice Department and men like J. Edgar Hoover. The victims of these sanctioned witch hunts of black leaders included men such as slaves like Nat Turner and Dred Scott. In the twentieth century, these probes labeled leaders such as Garvey, the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and Malcolm X as public enemies. Garvey was deported. King and Malcolm were assassinated. Though he failed to realize all his objectives, Garvey’s movement represents a liberation from the psychological bondage of racial inferiority. Garvey was born on August 17, 1887 in St. Ann’s Bay, Jamaica. He left school at 14, worked as a printer, joined Jamaican nationalist organizations, toured Central America, and spent time in London. Content at ﬁrst with accommodation, on his return to Jamaica, he aspired to open a Tuskegee-type industrial training school. In 1916 he came to America at Booker T. Washington’s invitation, but arrived just after Washington died. Garvey arrived in America at the dawn of the ‘‘New Negro’’ era. Black discontent, punctuated by East St. Louis’s bloody race riots in 1917 and intensiﬁed by postwar disillusionment, peaked in 1919’s Red Summer. Shortly after arriving, Garvey embarked upon a period of travel and lecturing. When he settled in New York City, he organized a chapter of the UNIA, which he had earlier founded in Jamaica as a fraternal organization. Drawing on a gift for oratory, he melded Jamaican peasant aspirations for economic and cultural independence with the American gospel of success to create a new gospel of racial pride. ‘‘Garveyism’’ eventually evolved into a religion of success, inspiring millions of black people worldwide who sought relief from racism and colonialism To enrich and strengthen his movement, Garvey envisioned a great shipping line to foster black trade, to transport passengers between America, the Caribbean, and Africa, and to serve as a symbol of black grandeur and enterprise. The UNIA incorporated the Black Star Line in 1919. The line’s ﬂagship, the S.S. Yarmouth, made its maiden voyage in November and two other ships joined the line in 1920. The Black Star Line became a powerful recruiting tool for the UNIA, but it was ultimately sunk by expensive repairs, discontented crews, and top-level mismanagement and corruption. By 1920 the UNIA had hundreds of chapters worldwide; it hosted elaborate international conventions and published the Negro World, a widely disseminated weekly that was soon banned in many parts of Africa and the Caribbean. Over the next few years, however, the movement began to unravel under the strains of internal dissension, opposition from black critics, and government harassment. In 1922 the federal government indicted Garvey on mail fraud charges stemming from Black Star Line promotional claims and he suspended all BSL operations. (Two years later, the UNIA created another line, the Black Cross Navigation and Trading Co., but it, too, failed.) Garvey was sentenced to prison. The government later commuted his sentence, only to deport him back to Jamaica in November 1927. He never returned to America. In Jamaica Garvey reconstituted the UNIA and held conventions there and in Canada, but the heart of his movement stumbled on in America without him.

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While he dabbled in local politics, he remained a keen observer of world events, writing voluminously in his own papers. His ﬁnal move was to London, in 1935. He settled there shortly before Fascist Italy invaded Ethiopia and his public criticisms of Haile Selassie’s behavior after the invasion alienated many of his own remaining followers. In his last years he slid into such obscurity that he suffered the ﬁnal indignity of reading his own obituaries a month before his death on June 10, 1940. Source: Copyright C 1995–2008 The Marcus Garvey and UNIA Papers Project, UCLA.

76. A Century of Negro Migration, Chapter 10 CARTER GOODWIN WOODSON The interstate movements of blacks after slavery created a perplexing problem for a country that was unprepared to grant them political and civil rights. According to noted historian Carter Goodwin Woodson, this nominal equality for blacks had been forced on the South. Woodson said it was not an uncommon belief that the two races could not live as equals, and some advocated segregating blacks to speciﬁc regions in the south. Speaking more plainly to the point, the editor of the Philadelphia North American said that the true interest of the South was to accommodate itself to changed conditions and that the duty of the freedmen lies in making themselves worth more in the development of the South than they were as chattels. Although recognizing the disabilities and hardships of the South both to the whites and the blacks, he could not believe that the elimination of the Negroes would, if practicable, give relief. The Boston Herald inquired whether it was worth while to send away a laboring population in the absence of whites to take its place and referred to the misfortunes of Spain which undertook to carry out such a scheme. Speaking the real truth, The Milwaukee Journal said that no one needed to expect any appreciable decrease in the black population through any possible emigration, no matter how successful it might be. ‘‘The Negro,’’ said the editor, ‘‘is here to stay and our institutions must be adapted to comprehend him and develop his possibilities.’’ The Colored American, then the leading Negro organ of thought in the United States, believed that the Negroes should be thankful to Senator Morgan for his attitude on emigration, because he might succeed in deporting to Africa those Negroes who affect to believe that this is not their home and the more quickly we get rid of such foolhardy people the better it will be for the stalwart of the race. A number of Negroes, however, under the inspiration of leaders like Bishop H.M. Turner, did not feel that the race had a fair chance in the United States. A few of them emigrated to Wapimo, Mexico; but, becoming dissatisﬁed with the situation there, they returned to their homes in Georgia and Alabama in 1895. The coming of the Negroes into Mexico caused suspicion and excitement. A newspaper, El Tiempo, which had been denouncing lynching in the United States, changed front when these Negroes arrived in that country. Going in quest of new opportunities and desiring to reenforce the civilization of Liberia, 197 other Negroes sailed from Savannah, Georgia, for Liberia, March 19, 1895. Commending this step, the Macon Telegraph referred to their action as a rebellion against the social laws which govern all people of this country. This organ further said that it was the outcome of a feeling which has grown stronger and

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stronger year by year among the Negroes of the Southern States and which will continue to grow with the increase of education and intelligence among them. The editor conceded that they had an opportunity to better their material condition and acquire wealth here but contended that they had no chance to rise out of the peasant class. The Memphis Commercial Appeal urged the building of a large Negro nation in Africa as practicable and desirable, for it was ‘‘more and more apparent that the Negro in this country must remain an alien and a disturber,’’ because there was ‘‘not and can never be a future for him in this country.’’ The Florida Times Union felt that this colonization scheme, like all others, was a fraud. It referred to the Negro’s being carried to the land of plenty only to ﬁnd out that there, as everywhere else in the world, an existence must be earned by toil and that his own old sunny southern home is vastly the better place. Only a few intelligent Negroes, however, had reached the position of being contented in the South. The Negroes eliminated from politics could not easily bring themselves around to thinking that they should remain there in a state of recognized inferiority, especially when during the eighties and nineties there were many evidences that economic as well as political conditions would become worse. The exodus treated in the previous chapter was productive of better treatment for the Negroes and an increase in their wages in certain parts of the South but the migration, contrary to the expectations of many, did not become general. Actual prosperity was impossible even if the whites had been willing to give the Negro peasants a fair chance. The South had passed through a disastrous war, the effects of which so blighted the hopes of its citizens in the economic world that their land seemed to pass, so to speak, through a dark age. There was then little to give the man far down when the one to whom he of necessity looked for employment was in his turn bled by the merchant or the banker of the larger cities, to whom he had to go for extensive credits. Southern planters as a class, however, had not much sympathy for the blacks who had once been their property and the tendency to cheat them continued, despite the fact that many farmers in the course of time extricated themselves from the clutches of the loan sharks. There were a few Negroes who, thanks to the honesty of certain southern gentlemen, succeeded in acquiring considerable property in spite of their handicaps. They yielded to the white man’s control in politics, when it seemed that it meant either to abandon that ﬁeld or die, and devoted themselves to the accumulation of wealth and the acquisition of education. This concession, however, did not satisfy the radical whites, as they thought that the Negro might some day return to power. Unfortunately, therefore, after the restoration of the control of the State governments to the master class, there swept over these commonwealths a wave of hostile legislation demanded by the poor white uplanders determined to debase the blacks to the status of the free Negroes prior to the Civil War. The Negroes have, therefore, been disfranchised in most reconstructed States, deprived of the privilege of serving in the State militia, segregated in public conveyances, and excluded from public places of entertainment. They have, moreover, been branded by public opinion as pariahs of society to be used for exploitation but not to be encouraged to expect that their status can ever be changed so as to destroy the barriers between the races in their social and political relations. This period has been marked also by an effort to establish in the South a system of peonage not unlike that of Mexico, a sort of involuntary servitude in that one is

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considered legally bound to serve his master until a debt contracted is paid. Such laws have been enacted in Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Mississippi, North Carolina and South Carolina. No such distinction in law has been able to stand the constitutional test of the United States courts as was evidenced by the decision of the Supreme Court in 1911 declaring the Alabama law unconstitutional. But the planters of the South, still a law unto themselves, have maintained actual slavery in sequestered; districts where public opinion against peonage is too weak to support federal authorities in exterminating it. The Negroes themselves dare not protest under penalty of persecution and the peon concerned usually accepts his lot like that of a slave. Some years ago it was commonly reported that in trying to escape, the persons undertaking it often fail and suffer death at the hands of the planter or of murderous mobs, giving as their excuse, if any be required, that the Negro is a desperado or some other sort of criminal. Unfortunately this reaction extended also to education. Appropriations to public schools for Negroes diminished from year to year and when there appeared practical leaders with their sane plan for industrial education, the South ignorantly accepted this scheme as a desirable subterfuge for seeming to support Negro education and at the same time directing the development of the blacks in such a way that they would never become the competitors of the white people. This was not these educators’ idea but the South so understood it and in effecting the readjustment, practically left the Negroes out of the pale of the public school systems. Consequently, there has been added to the Negroes’ misfortunes, in the South, that of being unable to obtain liberal education at public expense, although they themselves, as the largest consumers in some parts, pay most of the taxes appropriated to the support of schools for the youth of the other race. The South, moreover, has adopted the policy of a more general intimidation of the Negroes to keep them down. The lynching of the blacks, at ﬁrst for assaults on white women and later for almost any offense, has rapidly developed as an institution. Within the past ﬁfty years there have been lynched in the South about 4,000 Negroes, many of whom have been publicly burned in the daytime to attract crowds that usually enjoy such feats as the tourney of the Middle Ages. Negroes who have the courage to protest against this barbarism have too often been subjected to indignities and in some cases forced to leave their communities or suffer the fate of those in behalf of whom they speak. These crimes of white men were at ﬁrst kept secret but during the last two generations the culprits have become known as heroes, so popular has it been to murder Negroes. It has often been discovered also that the ofﬁcers of these communities take part in these crimes and the worst of all is that politicians like Tillman, Blease and Vardaman glory in recounting the noble deeds of those who deserve so well of their countrymen for making the soil red with the Negroes’ blood rather than permit the much feared Africanization of southern institutions. In this harassing situation the Negro has hoped that the North would interfere in his behalf, but, with the reactionary Supreme Court of the United States interpreting this hostile legislation as constitutional in conformity with the demands of prejudiced public opinion, and with the leaders of the North inclined to take the view that after all the factions in the South must be left alone to ﬁght it out, there has been nothing to be expected from without. Matters too have been rendered much worse because the leaders of the very party recently abandoning the freedmen to

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their fate, aggravated the critical situation by ﬁrst setting the Negroes against their former masters, whom they were taught to regard as their worst enemies whether they were or not. The last humiliation the Negroes have been forced to submit to is that of segregation. Here the effort has been to establish a ghetto in cities and to assign certain parts of the country to Negroes engaged in farming. It always happens, of course, that the best portion goes to the whites and the least desirable to the blacks, although the promoters of the segregation maintain that both races are to be treated equally. The ultimate aim is to prevent the Negroes of means from ﬁguring conspicuously in aristocratic districts where they may be brought into rather close contact with the whites. Negroes see in segregation a settled policy to keep them down, no matter what they do to elevate themselves. The southern white man, eternally dreading the miscegenation of the races, makes the life, liberty and happiness of individuals second to measures considered necessary to prevent this so-called evil that this enviable civilization, distinctly American, may not be destroyed. The United States Supreme Court in the decision of the Louisville segregation case recently declared these segregation measures unconstitutional. These restrictions have made the progress of the Negroes more of a problem in that directed toward social distinction, the Negroes have been denied the helpful contact of the sympathetic whites. The increasing race prejudice forces the whites to restrict their open dealing with the blacks to matters of service and business, maintaining even then the bearing of one in a sphere which the Negroes must not penetrate. The whites, therefore, never seeing the blacks as they are, and the blacks never being able to learn what the whites know, are thrown back on their own initiative, which their life as slaves could not have permitted to develop. It makes little difference that the Negroes have been free a few decades. Such freedom has in some parts been tantamount to slavery, and so far as contact with the superior class is concerned, no better than that condition; for under the old regime certain slaves did learn much by close association with their masters. For these reasons there has been since the exodus to the West a steady migration of Negroes from the South to points in the North. But this migration, mainly due to political changes, has never assumed such large proportions as in the case of the more signiﬁcant movements due to economic causes, for, as the accompanying map shows, most Negroes are still in the South. When we consider the various classes migrating, however, it will be apparent that to understand the exodus of the Negroes to the North, this longer drawn out and smaller movement must be carefully studied in all its ramiﬁcations. It should be noted that unlike some of the other migrations it has not been directed to any particular State. It has been from almost all Southern States to various parts of the North and especially to the largest cities. What classes then have migrated? In the ﬁrst place, the Negro politicians, who, after the restoration of Bourbon rule in the South, found themselves thrown out of ofﬁce and often humiliated and impoverished, had to ﬁnd some way out of the difﬁculty. Some few have been relieved by sympathetic leaders of the Republican party, who secured for them federal appointments in Washington. These appointments when sometimes paying lucrative salaries have been given as a reward to those Negroes who, although dethroned in the South, remain in touch with the remnant of the Republican party there and control the delegates to the national conventions nominating candidates for President. Many Negroes of this class have settled in

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Washington. In some cases, the observer witnesses the pitiable scene of a man once a prominent public functionary in the South now serving in Washington as a messenger or a clerk. The well-established blacks, however, have not been so easily induced to go. The Negroes in business in the South have usually been loath to leave their people among whom they can acquire property, whereas, if they go to the North, they have merely political freedom with no assurance of an opportunity in the economic world. But not a few of these have given themselves up to unrelenting toil with a view to accumulating sufﬁcient wealth to move North and live thereafter on the income from their investments. Many of this class now spend some of their time in the North to educate their children. But they do not like to have these children who have been under reﬁning inﬂuences return to the South to suffer the humiliation which during the last generation has been growing more and more aggravating. Endeavoring to carry out their policy of keeping the Negro down, southerners too often carefully plan to humiliate the progressive and intelligent blacks and in some cases form mobs to drive them out, as they are bad examples for that class of Negroes whom they desire to keep as menials. There are also the migrating educated Negroes. They have studied history, law and economics and well understand what it is to get the rights guaranteed them by the Constitution. The more they know the more discontented they become. They cannot speak out for what they want. No one is likely to second such a protest, not even the Negroes themselves, so generally have they been intimidated. The more outspoken they become, moreover, the more necessary is it for them to leave, for they thereby destroy their chances to earn a livelihood. White men in control of the public schools of the South see to it that the subserviency of the Negro teachers employed be certiﬁed beforehand. They dare not complain too much about equipment and salaries even if the per capita appropriation for the education of the Negroes be one fourth of that for the whites. In the higher institutions of learning, especially the State schools, it is exceptional to ﬁnd a principal who has the conﬁdence of the Negroes. The Negroes will openly assert that he is in the pay of the reactionary whites, whose purpose is to keep the Negro down; and the incumbent himself will tell his board of regents how much he is opposed by the Negroes because he labors for the interests of the white race. Out of such sycophancy it is easily explained why our State schools have been so ineffective as to necessitate the sending of the Negro youth to private institutions maintained by northern philanthropy. Yet if an outspoken Negro happens to be an instructor in a private school conducted by educators from the North, he has to be careful about contending for a square deal; for, if the head of his institution does not suggest to him to proceed conservatively, the mob will dispose of the complainant. Physicians, lawyers and preachers, who are not so economically dependent as teachers can exercise no more freedom of speech in the midst of this triumphant rule of the lawless. A large number of educated Negroes, therefore, have on account of these conditions been compelled to leave the South. Finding in the North, however, practically nothing in their line to do, because of the proscription by race prejudice and trades unions, many of them lead the life of menials, serving as waiters, porters, butlers and chauffeurs. While in Chicago, not long ago, the writer was in the ofﬁce of a graduate of a colored southern college, who was showing his former teacher the picture of his

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class. In accounting for his classmates in the various walks of life, he reported that more than one third of them were settled to the occupation of Pullman porters. The largest number of Negroes who have gone North during this period, however, belong to the intelligent laboring class. Some of them have become discontented for the very same reasons that the higher classes have tired of oppression in the South, but the larger number of them have gone North to improve their economic condition. Most of these have migrated to the large cities in the East and Northwest, such as Philadelphia, New York, Indianapolis, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Columbus, Detroit and Chicago. To understand this problem in its urban aspects, the accompanying diagram showing the increase in the Negro population of northern cities during the ﬁrst decade of this century will be helpful. Some of these Negroes have migrated after careful consideration; others have just happened to go north as wanderers; and a still larger number on the many excursions to the cities conducted by railroads during the summer months. Sometimes one excursion brings to Chicago two or three thousand Negroes, two thirds of whom never go back. They do not often follow the higher pursuits of labor in the North but they earn more money than they have been accustomed to earn in the South. They are attracted also by the liberal attitude of some whites, which, although not that of social equality, gives the Negroes a liberty in northern centers which leads them to think that they are citizens of the country. This shifting in the population has had an unusually signiﬁcant effect on the black belt. Frederick Douglass advised the Negroes in 1879 to remain in the South where they would be in sufﬁciently large numbers to have political power, but they have gradually scattered from the black belt so as to diminish greatly their chances ever to become the political force they formerly were in this country. The Negroes once had this possibility in South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana and, had the process of Africanization prior to the Civil War had a few decades longer to do its work, there would not have been any doubt as to the ultimate preponderance of the Negroes in those commonwealths. The tendencies of the black population according to the censuses of the United States and especially that of 1910, however, show that the chances for the control of these State governments by Negroes no longer exist except in South Carolina and Mississippi. It has been predicted, therefore, that, if the same tendencies continue for the next ﬁfty years, there will be even few counties in which the Negroes will be in a majority. All of the Southern States except Arkansas showed a proportionate increase of the white population over that of the black between 1900 and 1910, while West Virginia and Oklahoma with relatively small numbers of blacks showed, for reasons stated elsewhere, an increase in the Negro population. Thus we see coming to pass something like the proposed plan of Jefferson and other statesmen who a hundred years ago advocated the expansion of slavery to lessen the evil of the institution by distributing its burdens. The migration of intelligent blacks, however, has been attended with several handicaps to the race. The large part of the black population is in the South and there it will stay for decades to come. The southern Negroes, therefore, have been robbed of their due part of the talented tenth. The educated blacks have had no constituency in the North and, consequently, have been unable to realize their sweetest dreams of the land of the free. In their new home the enlightened Negro must live with his light under a bushel. Those left behind in the South soon despair

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of seeing a brighter day and yield to the yoke. In the places of the leaders who were wont to speak for their people, the whites have raised up Negroes who accept favors offered them on the condition that their lips be sealed up forever on the rights of the Negro. This emigration too has left the Negro subject to other evils. There are many ﬁrstclass Negro business men in the South, but although there were once progressive men of color, who endeavored to protect the blacks from being plundered by white sharks and harpies, there have arisen numerous unscrupulous Negroes who have for a part of the proceeds from such jobbery associated themselves with ill-designing white men to dupe illiterate Negroes. This trickery is brought into play in marketing their crops, selling them supplies, or purchasing their property. To carry out this iniquitous plan the persons concerned have the protection of the law, for while Negroes in general are imposed upon, those engaged in robbing them have no cause to fear. Source: Chapter 10: pp.149–166. Copyright C 1918 by Carter Godwin Woodson.

77. The Soul of White Folks, 1920 W. E. B. DUBOIS Scholar and activist W. E. B. DuBois began writing a series of scholarly papers, books, and newspaper and magazine articles early in the twentieth century to explore the esoteric varieties of life from the perspective of a black man in America. Many were published in various magazines and journals, including The Atlantic, The Independent, The Crisis, and The Journal of Race Development. DuBois’ works on race were among the ﬁrst such articles widely circulated to a largely white audience. This is an essay from a collection of his essays. These are the things of which men think, who live: of their own selves and the dwelling place of their fathers; of their neighbors; of work and service; of rule and reason and women and children; of Beauty and Death and War. To this thinking I have only to add a point of view: I have been in the world, but not of it. I have seen the human drama from a veiled corner, where all the outer tragedy and comedy have reproduced themselves in microcosm within. From this inner torment of souls the human scene without has interpreted itself to me in unusual and even illuminating ways. For this reason, and this alone, I venture to write again on themes on which great souls have already said greater words, in the hope that I may strike here and there a half-tone, newer even if slighter, up from the heart of my problem and the problems of my people. Between the sterner ﬂights of logic, I have sought to set some little alightings of what may be poetry. They are tributes to Beauty, unworthy to stand alone; yet perversely, in my mind, now at the end, I know not whether I mean the Thought for the Fancy—or the Fancy for the Thought, or why the book trails off to playing, rather than standing strong on unanswering fact. But this is alway—is it not?—the Riddle of Life. High in the tower, where I sit above the loud complaining of the human sea, I know many souls that toss and whirl and pass, but none there are that intrigue me more than the Souls of White Folk. Of them I am singularly clairvoyant. I see in and through them. I view them from unusual points of vantage. Not as a foreigner do I come, for I am native, not foreign,

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bone of their thought and ﬂesh of their language. Mine is not the knowledge of the traveler or the colonial composite of dear memories, words and wonder. Nor yet is my knowledge that which servants have of masters, or mass of class, or capitalist of artisan. Rather I see these souls undressed and from the back and side. I see the working of their entrails. I know their thoughts and they know that I know. This knowledge makes them now embarrassed, now furious. They deny my right to live and be and call me misbirth! My word is to them mere bitterness and my soul, pessimism. And yet as they preach and strut and shout and threaten, crouching as they clutch at rags of facts and fancies to hide their nakedness, they go twisting, ﬂying by my tired eyes and I see them ever stripped,—ugly, human. The discovery of personal whiteness among the world’s peoples is a very modern thing,—a nineteenth and twentieth century matter, indeed. The ancient world would have laughed at such a distinction. The Middle Age regarded skin color with mild curiosity; and even up into the eighteenth century we were hammering our national manikins into one, great, Universal Man, with ﬁne frenzy which ignored color and race even more than birth. Today we have changed all that, and the world in a sudden, emotional conversion has discovered that it is white and by that token, wonderful! This assumption that of all the hues of God whiteness alone is inherently and obviously better than brownness or tan leads to curious acts; even the sweeter souls of the dominant world as they discourse with me on weather, weal, and woe are continually playing above their actual words an obligato of tune and tone, saying: ‘‘My poor, un-white thing! Weep not nor rage. I know, too well, that the curse of God lies heavy on you. Why? That is not for me to say, but be brave! Do your work in your lowly sphere, praying the good Lord that into heaven above, where all is love, you may, one day, be born—white!’’ I do not laugh. I am quite straight-faced as I ask soberly: ‘‘But what on earth is whiteness that one should so desire it?’’ Then always, somehow, some way, silently but clearly, I am given to understand that whiteness is the ownership of the earth forever and ever, Amen! Now what is the effect on a man or a nation when it comes passionately to believe such an extraordinary dictum as this? That nations are coming to believe it is manifest daily. Wave on wave, each with increasing virulence, is dashing this new religion of whiteness on the shores of our time. Its ﬁrst effects are funny: the strut of the Southerner, the arrogance of the Englishman amuck, the whoop of the hoodlum who vicariously leads your mob. Next it appears dampening generous enthusiasm in what we once counted glorious; to free the slave is discovered to be tolerable only in so far as it freed his master! Do we sense somnolent writhings in black Africa or angry groans in India or triumphant banzais in Japan? ‘‘To your tents, O Israel!’’ These nations are not white! After the more comic manifestations and the chilling of generous enthusiasm come subtler, darker deeds. Everything considered, the title to the universe claimed by White Folk is faulty. It ought, at least, to look plausible. How easy, then, by emphasis and omission to make children believe that every great soul the world ever saw was a white man’s soul; that every great thought the world ever knew was a white man’s thought; that every great deed the world ever did was a white man’s deed; that every great dream the world ever sang was a white man’s dream. In ﬁne,

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that if from the world were dropped everything that could not fairly be attributed to White Folk, the world would, if anything, be even greater, truer, better than now. And if all this be a lie, is it not a lie in a great cause? Here it is that the comedy verges to tragedy. The ﬁrst minor note is struck, all unconsciously, by those worthy souls in whom consciousness of high descent brings burning desire to spread the gift abroad,—the obligation of nobility to the ignoble. Such sense of duty assumes two things: a real possession of the heritage and its frank appreciation by the humble-born. So long, then, as humble black folk, voluble with thanks, receive barrels of old clothes from lordly and generous whites, there is much mental peace and moral satisfaction. But when the black man begins to dispute the white man’s title to certain alleged bequests of the Fathers in wage and position, authority and training; and when his attitude toward charity is sullen anger rather than humble jollity; when he insists on his human right to swagger and swear and waste,—then the spell is suddenly broken and the philanthropist is ready to believe that Negroes are impudent, that the South is right, and that Japan wants to ﬁght America. After this the descent to Hell is easy. On the pale, white faces which the great billows whirl upward to my tower I see again and again, often and still more often, a writing of human hatred, a deep and passionate hatred, vast by the very vagueness of its expressions. Down through the green waters, on the bottom of the world, where men move to and fro, I have seen a man—an educated gentleman—grow livid with anger because a little, silent, black woman was sitting by herself in a Pullman car. He was a white man. I have seen a great, grown man curse a little child, who had wandered into the wrong waiting-room, searching for its mother: ‘‘Here, you damned black—’’ He was white. In Central Park I have seen the upper lip of a quiet, peaceful man curl back in a tigerish snarl of rage because black folk rode by in a motor car. He was a white man. We have seen, you and I, city after city drunk and furious with ungovernable lust of blood; mad with murder, destroying, killing, and cursing; torturing human victims because somebody accused of crime happened to be of the same color as the mob’s innocent victims and because that color was not white! We have seen,—Merciful God! in these wild days and in the name of Civilization, Justice, and Motherhood,—what have we not seen, right here in America, of orgy, cruelty, barbarism, and murder done to men and women of Negro descent. Up through the foam of green and weltering waters wells this great mass of hatred, in wilder, ﬁercer violence, until I look down and know that today to the millions of my people no misfortune could happen,—of death and pestilence, failure and defeat— that would not make the hearts of millions of their fellows beat with ﬁerce, vindictive joy! Do you doubt it? Ask your own soul what it would say if the next census were to report that half of black America was dead and the other half dying. Unfortunate? Unfortunate. But where is the misfortune? Mine? Am I, in my blackness, the sole sufferer? I suffer. And yet, somehow, above the suffering, above the shackled anger that beats the bars, above the hurt that crazes there surges in me a vast pity,—pity for a people imprisoned and enthralled, hampered and made miserable for such a cause, for such a phantasy! Conceive this nation, of all human peoples, engaged in a crusade to make the ‘‘World Safe for Democracy’’! Can you imagine the United States protesting against Turkish atrocities in Armenia, while the Turks are silent about mobs in Chicago and St. Louis; what is Louvain compared with Memphis, Waco, Washington,

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Dyersburg, and Estill Springs? In short, what is the black man but America’s Belgium, and how could America condemn in Germany that which she commits, just as brutally, within her own borders? A true and worthy ideal frees and uplifts a people; a false ideal imprisons and lowers. Say to men, earnestly and repeatedly: ‘‘Honesty is best, knowledge is power; do unto others as you would be done by.’’ Say this and act it and the nation must move toward it, if not to it. But say to a people: ‘‘The one virtue is to be white,’’ and the people rush to the inevitable conclusion, ‘‘Kill the ‘nigger’!’’ Is not this the record of present America? Is not this its headlong progress? Are we not coming more and more, day by day, to making the statement ‘‘I am white,’’ the one fundamental tenet of our practical morality? Only when this basic, iron rule is involved is our defense of right nation-wide and prompt. Murder may swagger, theft may rule and prostitution may ﬂourish and the nation gives but spasmodic, intermittent and lukewarm attention. But let the murderer be black or the thief brown or the violator of womanhood have a drop of Negro blood, and the righteousness of the indignation sweeps the world. Nor would this fact make the indignation less justiﬁable did not we all know that it was blackness that was condemned and not crime. In the awful cataclysm of World War, where from beating, slandering, and murdering us the white world turned temporarily aside to kill each other, we of the Darker Peoples looked on in mild amaze. Among some of us, I doubt not, this sudden descent of Europe into hell brought unbounded surprise; to others, over wide area, it brought the Schaden Freude of the bitterly hurt; but most of us, I judge, looked on silently and sorrowfully, in sober thought, seeing sadly the prophecy of our own souls. Here is a civilization that has boasted much. Neither Roman nor Arab, Greek nor Egyptian, Persian nor Mongol ever took himself and his own perfectness with such disconcerting seriousness as the modern white man. We whose shame, humiliation, and deep insult his aggrandizement so often involved were never deceived. We looked at him clearly, with world-old eyes, and saw simply a human thing, weak and pitiable and cruel, even as we are and were. These super-men and world-mastering demi-gods listened, however, to no low tongues of ours, even when we pointed silently to their feet of clay. Perhaps we, as folk of simpler soul and more primitive type, have been most struck in the welter of recent years by the utter failure of white religion. We have curled our lips in something like contempt as we have witnessed glib apology and weary explanation. Nothing of the sort deceived us. A nation’s religion is its life, and as such white Christianity is a miserable failure. Nor would we be unfair in this criticism: We know that we, too, have failed, as you have, and have rejected many a Buddha, even as you have denied Christ; but we acknowledge our human frailty, while you, claiming super-humanity, scoff endlessly at our shortcomings. The number of white individuals who are practising with even reasonable approximation the democracy and unselﬁshness of Jesus Christ is so small and unimportant as to be ﬁt subject for jest in Sunday supplements and in Punch, Life, Le Rire, and Fliegende Blaetter. In her foreign mission work the extraordinary self-deception of white religion is epitomized: solemnly the white world sends ﬁve million dollars worth of missionary propaganda to Africa each year and in the same twelve months

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adds twenty-ﬁve million dollars worth of the vilest gin manufactured. Peace to the augurs of Rome! We may, however, grant without argument that religious ideals have always far outrun their very human devotees. Let us, then, turn to more mundane matters of honor and fairness. The world today is trade. The world has turned shopkeeper; history is economic history; living is earning a living. Is it necessary to ask how much of high emprise and honorable conduct has been found here? Something, to be sure. The establishment of world credit systems is built on splendid and realizable faith in fellow-men. But it is, after all, so low and elementary a step that sometimes it looks merely like honor among thieves, for the revelations of highway robbery and low cheating in the business world and in all its great modern centers have raised in the hearts of all true men in our day an exceeding great cry for revolution in our basic methods and conceptions of industry and commerce. We do not, for a moment, forget the robbery of other times and races when trade was a most uncertain gamble; but was there not a certain honesty and frankness in the evil that argued a saner morality? There are more merchants today, surer deliveries, and wider well-being, but are there not, also, bigger thieves, deeper injustice, and more calloused selﬁshness in well-being? Be that as it may,—certainly the nicer sense of honor that has risen ever and again in groups of forward-thinking men has been curiously and broadly blunted. Consider our chiefest industry,—ﬁghting. Laboriously the Middle Ages built its rules of fairness—equal armament, equal notice, equal conditions. What do we see today? Machine-guns against assegais; conquest sugared with religion; mutilation and rape masquerading as culture,—all this, with vast applause at the superiority of white over black soldiers! War is horrible! This the dark world knows to its awful cost. But has it just become horrible, in these last days, when under essentially equal conditions, equal armament, and equal waste of wealth white men are ﬁghting white men, with surgeons and nurses hovering near? Think of the wars through which we have lived in the last decade: in German Africa, in British Nigeria, in French and Spanish Morocco, in China, in Persia, in the Balkans, in Tripoli, in Mexico, and in a dozen lesser places—were not these horrible, too? Mind you, there were for most of these wars no Red Cross funds. Behold little Belgium and her pitiable plight, but has the world forgotten Congo? What Belgium now suffers is not half, not even a tenth, of what she has done to black Congo since Stanley’s great dream of 1880. Down the dark forests of inmost Africa sailed this modern Sir Galahad, in the name of ‘‘the noble-minded men of several nations,’’ to introduce commerce and civilization. What came of it? ‘‘Rubber and murder, slavery in its worst form,’’ wrote Glave in 1895. Harris declares that King Leopold’s regime meant the death of twelve million natives, ‘‘but what we who were behind the scenes felt most keenly was the fact that the real catastrophe in the Congo was desolation and murder in the larger sense. The invasion of family life, the ruthless destruction of every social barrier, the shattering of every tribal law, the introduction of criminal practices which struck the chiefs of the people dumb with horror—in a word, a veritable avalanche of ﬁlth and immorality overwhelmed the Congo tribes.’’ Yet the ﬁelds of Belgium laughed, the cities were gay, art and science ﬂourished; the groans that helped to nourish this civilization fell on deaf ears because the world round about was doing the same sort of thing elsewhere on its own account.

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As we saw the dead dimly through rifts of battlesmoke and heard faintly the cursings and accusations of blood brothers, we darker men said: This is not Europe gone mad; this is not aberration nor insanity; this is Europe; this seeming Terrible is the real soul of white culture—back of all culture,—stripped and visible today. This is where the world has arrived,—these dark and awful depths and not the shining and ineffable heights of which it boasted. Here is whither the might and energy of modern humanity has really gone. But may not the world cry back at us and ask: ‘‘What better thing have you to show? What have you done or would do better than this if you had today the world rule? Paint with all riot of hateful colors the thin skin of European culture,—is it not better than any culture that arose in Africa or Asia?’’ It is. Of this there is no doubt and never has been; but why is it better? Is it better because Europeans are better, nobler, greater, and more gifted than other folk? It is not. Europe has never produced and never will in our day bring forth a single human soul who cannot be matched and over-matched in every line of human endeavor by Asia and Africa. Run the gamut, if you will, and let us have the Europeans who in sober truth over-match Nefertari, Mohammed, Rameses and Askia, Confucius, Buddha, and Jesus Christ. If we could scan the calendar of thousands of lesser men, in like comparison, the result would be the same; but we cannot do this because of the deliberately educated ignorance of white schools by which they remember Napoleon and forget Sonni Ali. The greatness of Europe has lain in the width of the stage on which she has played her part, the strength of the foundations on which she has builded, and a natural, human ability no whit greater (if as great) than that of other days and races. In other words, the deeper reasons for the triumph of European civilization lie quite outside and beyond Europe,—back in the universal struggles of all mankind. Why, then, is Europe great? Because of the foundations which the mighty past have furnished her to build upon: the iron trade of ancient, black Africa, the religion and empire-building of yellow Asia, the art and science of the ‘‘dago’’ Mediterranean shore, east, south, and west, as well as north. And where she has builded securely upon this great past and learned from it she has gone forward to greater and more splendid human triumph; but where she has ignored this past and forgotten and sneered at it, she has shown the cloven hoof of poor, cruciﬁed humanity,—she has played, like other empires gone, the world fool! If, then, European triumphs in culture have been greater, so, too, may her failures have been greater. How great a failure and a failure in what does the World War betoken? Was it national jealousy of the sort of the seventeenth century? But Europe has done more to break down national barriers than any preceding culture. Was it fear of the balance of power in Europe? Hardly, save in the half-Asiatic problems of the Balkans. What, then, does Hauptmann mean when he says: ‘‘Our jealous enemies forged an iron ring about our breasts and we knew our breasts had to expand,—that we had to split asunder this ring or else we had to cease breathing. But Germany will not cease to breathe and so it came to pass that the iron ring was forced apart.’’ Whither is this expansion? What is that breath of life, thought to be so indispensable to a great European nation? Manifestly it is expansion overseas; it is colonial aggrandizement which explains, and alone adequately explains, the World War. How many of us today fully realize the current theory of colonial expansion, of the

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relation of Europe which is white, to the world which is black and brown and yellow? Bluntly put, that theory is this: It is the duty of white Europe to divide up the darker world and administer it for Europe’s good. This Europe has largely done. The European world is using black and brown men for all the uses which men know. Slowly but surely white culture is evolving the theory that ‘‘darkies’’ are born beasts of burden for white folk. It were silly to think otherwise, cries the cultured world, with stronger and shriller accord. The supporting arguments grow and twist themselves in the mouths of merchant, scientist, soldier, traveler, writer, and missionary: Darker peoples are dark in mind as well as in body; of dark, uncertain, and imperfect descent; of frailer, cheaper stuff; they are cowards in the face of mausers and maxims; they have no feelings, aspirations, and loves; they are fools, illogical idiots,—‘‘half-devil and half-child.’’ Such as they are civilization must, naturally, raise them, but soberly and in limited ways. They are not simply dark white men. They are not ‘‘men’’ in the sense that Europeans are men. To the very limited extent of their shallow capacities lift them to be useful to whites, to raise cotton, gather rubber, fetch ivory, dig diamonds,—and let them be paid what men think they are worth—white men who know them to be well-nigh worthless. Such degrading of men by men is as old as mankind and the invention of no one race or people. Ever have men striven to conceive of their victims as different from the victors, endlessly different, in soul and blood, strength and cunning, race and lineage. It has been left, however, to Europe and to modern days to discover the eternal world-wide mark of meanness,—color! Such is the silent revolution that has gripped modern European culture in the later nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Its zenith came in Boxer times: White supremacy was all but world-wide, Africa was dead, India conquered, Japan isolated, and China prostrate, while white America whetted her sword for mongrel Mexico and mulatto South America, lynching her own Negroes the while. Temporary halt in this program was made by little Japan and the white world immediately sensed the peril of such ‘‘yellow’’ presumption! What sort of a world would this be if yellow men must be treated ‘‘white’’? Immediately the eventual overthrow of Japan became a subject of deep thought and intrigue, from St. Petersburg to San Francisco, from the Key of Heaven to the Little Brother of the Poor. The using of men for the beneﬁt of masters is no new invention of modern Europe. It is quite as old as the world. But Europe proposed to apply it on a scale and with an elaborateness of detail of which no former world ever dreamed. The imperial width of the thing,—the heaven-defying audacity—makes its modern newness. The scheme of Europe was no sudden invention, but a way out of long-pressing difﬁculties. It is plain to modern white civilization that the subjection of the white working classes cannot much longer be maintained. Education, political power, and increased knowledge of the technique and meaning of the industrial process are destined to make a more and more equitable distribution of wealth in the near future. The day of the very rich is drawing to a close, so far as individual white nations are concerned. But there is a loophole. There is a chance for exploitation on an immense scale for inordinate proﬁt, not simply to the very rich, but to the middle class and to the laborers. This chance lies in the exploitation of darker peoples. It is here that the golden hand beckons. Here are no labor unions or votes or questioning

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onlookers or inconvenient consciences. These men may be used down to the very bone, and shot and maimed in ‘‘punitive’’ expeditions when they revolt. In these dark lands ‘‘industrial development’’ may repeat in exaggerated form every horror of the industrial history of Europe, from slavery and rape to disease and maiming, with only one test of success,—dividends! This theory of human culture and its aims has worked itself through warp and woof of our daily thought with a thoroughness that few realize. Everything great, good, efﬁcient, fair, and honorable is ‘‘white’’; everything mean, bad, blundering, cheating, and dishonorable is ‘‘yellow’’; a bad taste is ‘‘brown’’; and the devil is ‘‘black.’’ The changes of this theme are continually rung in picture and story, in newspaper heading and moving-picture, in sermon and school book, until, of course, the King can do no wrong,—a White Man is always right and a Black Man has no rights which a white man is bound to respect. There must come the necessary despisings and hatreds of these savage half-men, this unclean canaille of the world—these dogs of men. All through the world this gospel is preaching. It has its literature, it has its secret propaganda and above all— it pays! There’s the rub,—it pays. Rubber, ivory, and palm-oil; tea, coffee, and cocoa; bananas, oranges, and other fruit; cotton, gold, and copper—they, and a hundred other things which dark and sweating bodies hand up to the white world from pits of slime, pay and pay well, but of all that the world gets the black world gets only the pittance that the white world throws it disdainfully. Small wonder, then, that in the practical world of things-that-be there is jealousy and strife for the possession of the labor of dark millions, for the right to bleed and exploit the colonies of the world where this golden stream may be had, not always for the asking, but surely for the whipping and shooting. It was this competition for the labor of yellow, brown, and black folks that was the cause of the World War. Other causes have been glibly given and other contributing causes there doubtless were, but they were subsidiary and subordinate to this vast quest of the dark world’s wealth and toil. Colonies, we call them, these places where ‘‘niggers’’ are cheap and the earth is rich; they are those outlands where like a swarm of hungry locusts white masters may settle to be served as kings, wield the lash of slave-drivers, rape girls and wives, grow as rich as Croesus and send homeward a golden stream. They belt the earth, these places, but they cluster in the tropics, with its darkened peoples: in Hong Kong and Anam, in Borneo and Rhodesia, in Sierra Leone and Nigeria, in Panama and Havana—these are the El Dorados toward which the world powers stretch itching palms. Germany, at last one and united and secure on land, looked across the seas and seeing England with sources of wealth insuring a luxury and power which Germany could not hope to rival by the slower processes of exploiting her own peasants and workingmen, especially with these workers half in revolt, immediately built her navy and entered into a desperate competition for possession of colonies of darker peoples. To South America, to China, to Africa, to Asia Minor, she turned like a hound quivering on the leash, impatient, suspicious, irritable, with blood-shot eyes and dripping fangs, ready for the awful word. England and France crouched watchfully over their bones, growling and wary, but gnawing industriously, while the blood of the dark world whetted their greedy appetites. In the background, shut out from

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the highway to the seven seas, sat Russia and Austria, snarling and snapping at each other and at the last Mediterranean gate to the El Dorado, where the Sick Man enjoyed bad health, and where millions of serfs in the Balkans, Russia, and Asia offered a feast to greed well-nigh as great as Africa. The fateful day came. It had to come. The cause of war is preparation for war; and of all that Europe has done in a century there is nothing that has equaled in energy, thought, and time her preparation for wholesale murder. The only adequate cause of this preparation was conquest and conquest, not in Europe, but primarily among the darker peoples of Asia and Africa; conquest, not for assimilation and uplift, but for commerce and degradation. For this, and this mainly, did Europe gird herself at frightful cost for war. The red day dawned when the tinder was lighted in the Balkans and AustroHungary seized a bit which brought her a step nearer to the world’s highway; she seized one bit and poised herself for another. Then came that curious chorus of challenges, those leaping suspicions, raking all causes for distrust and rivalry and hatred, but saying little of the real and greatest cause. Each nation felt its deep interests involved. But how? Not, surely, in the death of Ferdinand the Warlike; not, surely, in the old, half-forgotten revanche for AlsaceLorraine; not even in the neutrality of Belgium. No! But in the possession of land overseas, in the right to colonies, the chance to levy endless tribute on the darker world,—on coolies in China, on starving peasants in India, on black savages in Africa, on dying South Sea Islanders, on Indians of the Amazon—all this and nothing more. Even the broken reed on which we had rested high hopes of eternal peace,—the guild of the laborers—the front of that very important movement for human justice on which we had builded most, even this ﬂew like a straw before the breath of king and kaiser. Indeed, the ﬂying had been foreshadowed when in Germany and America ‘‘international’’ Socialists had all but read yellow and black men out of the kingdom of industrial justice. Subtly had they been bribed, but effectively: Were they not lordly whites and should they not share in the spoils of rape? High wages in the United States and England might be the skilfully manipulated result of slavery in Africa and of peonage in Asia. With the dog-in-the-manger theory of trade, with the determination to reap inordinate proﬁts and to exploit the weakest to the utmost there came a new imperialism,— the rage for one’s own nation to own the earth or, at least, a large enough portion of it to insure as big proﬁts as the next nation. Where sections could not be owned by one dominant nation there came a policy of ‘‘open door,’’ but the ‘‘door’’ was open to ‘‘white people only.’’ As to the darkest and weakest of peoples there was but one unanimity in Europe,—that which Hen Demberg of the German Colonial Ofﬁce called the agreement with England to maintain white ‘‘prestige’’ in Africa,—the doctrine of the divine right of white people to steal. Thus the world market most wildly and desperately sought today is the market where labor is cheapest and most helpless and proﬁt is most abundant. This labor is kept cheap and helpless because the white world despises ‘‘darkies.’’ If one has the temerity to suggest that these workingmen may walk the way of white workingmen and climb by votes and self-assertion and education to the rank of men, he is howled out of court. They cannot do it and if they could, they shall not, for they are the enemies of the white race and the whites shall rule forever and forever and

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everywhere. Thus the hatred and despising of human beings from whom Europe wishes to extort her luxuries has led to such jealousy and bickering between European nations that they have fallen afoul of each other and have fought like crazed beasts. Such is the fruit of human hatred. But what of the darker world that watches? Most men belong to this world. With Negro and Negroid, East Indian, Chinese, and Japanese they form two-thirds of the population of the world. A belief in humanity is a belief in colored men. If the uplift of mankind must be done by men, then the destinies of this world will rest ultimately in the hands of darker nations. What, then, is this dark world thinking? It is thinking that as wild and awful as this shameful war was, it is nothing to compare with that ﬁght for freedom which black and brown and yellow men must and will make unless their oppression and humiliation and insult at the hands of the White World cease. The Dark World is going to submit to its present treatment just as long as it must and not one moment longer. Let me say this again and emphasize it and leave no room for mistaken meaning: The World War was primarily the jealous and avaricious struggle for the largest share in exploiting darker races. As such it is and must be but the prelude to the armed and indignant protest of these despised and raped peoples. Today Japan is hammering on the door of justice, China is raising her half-manacled hands to knock next, India is writhing for the freedom to knock, Egypt is sullenly muttering, the Negroes of South and West Africa, of the West Indies, and of the United States are just awakening to their shameful slavery. Is, then, this war the end of wars? Can it be the end, so long as sits enthroned, even in the souls of those who cry peace, the despising and robbing of darker peoples? If Europe hugs this delusion, then this is not the end of world war,—it is but the beginning! We see Europe’s greatest sin precisely where we found Africa’s and Asia’s,—in human hatred, the despising of men; with this difference, however: Europe has the awful lesson of the past before her, has the splendid results of widened areas of tolerance, sympathy, and love among men, and she faces a greater, an inﬁnitely greater, world of men than any preceding civilization ever faced. It is curious to see America, the United States, looking on herself, ﬁrst, as a sort of natural peacemaker, then as a moral protagonist in this terrible time. No nation is less ﬁtted for this role. For two or more centuries America has marched proudly in the van of human hatred,—making bonﬁres of human ﬂesh and laughing at them hideously, and making the insulting of millions more than a matter of dislike,— rather a great religion, a world war-cry: Up white, down black; to your tents, O white folk, and world war with black and parti-colored mongrel beasts! Instead of standing as a great example of the success of democracy and the possibility of human brotherhood America has taken her place as an awful example of its pitfalls and failures, so far as black and brown and yellow peoples are concerned. And this, too, in spite of the fact that there has been no actual failure; the Indian is not dying out, the Japanese and Chinese have not menaced the land, and the experiment of Negro suffrage has resulted in the uplift of twelve million people at a rate probably unparalleled in history. But what of this? America, Land of Democracy, wanted to believe in the failure of democracy so far as darker peoples were concerned. Absolutely without excuse she established a caste system, rushed into preparation for war, and conquered tropical colonies. She stands today shoulder to

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shoulder with Europe in Europe’s worst sin against civilization. She aspires to sit among the great nations who arbitrate the fate of ‘‘lesser breeds without the law’’ and she is at times heartily ashamed even of the large number of ‘‘new’’ white people whom her democracy has admitted to place and power. Against this surging forward of Irish and German, of Russian Jew, Slav and ‘‘dago’’ her social bars have not availed, but against Negroes she can and does take her unﬂinching and immovable stand, backed by this new public policy of Europe. She trains her immigrants to this despising of ‘‘niggers’’ from the day of their landing, and they carry and send the news back to the submerged classes in the fatherlands. Source: Darkwater: Voices from Within the Veil. New York: Harcourt, Brace & Co., 1920.

78. Declaration of Rights of the Negro Peoples of the World, 1920 This a ﬁnal version of a declaration ﬁrst drafted and adopted at a convention held in New York in 1920 of the Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA), over which Marcus Garvey presided as chairman, and at which he was elected Provisional President of Africa. The use of the word ‘‘Africa’’ most likely denotes his claims as a world leader of black men and women everywhere, rather than an ofﬁcial leader of the vast continent of Africa. Although this document was drafted in 1920, it was not ofﬁcially notarized and recorded with the New York County Clerk until two years later. PREAMBLE Be it Resolved, That the Negro people of the world, through their chosen representatives in convention assembled in Liberty Hall, in the City of New York and United States of America, from August 1 to August 31, in the year of our Lord, one thousand nine hundred and twenty, protest against the wrongs and injustices they are suffering at the hands of their white brethren, and state what they deem their fair and just rights, as well as the treatment they propose to demand of all men in the future. We complain: I. That nowhere in the world, with few exceptions, are black men accorded equal treatment with white men, although in the same situation and circumstances, but, on the contrary, are discriminated against and denied the common rights due to human beings for no other reason than their race and color. We are not willingly accepted as guests in the public hotels and inns of the world for no other reason than our race and color. II. In certain parts of the United States of America our race is denied the right of public trial accorded to other races when accused of crime, but are lynched and burned by mobs, and such brutal and inhuman treatment is even practiced upon our women. III. That European nations have parcelled out among themselves and taken possession of nearly all of the continent of Africa, and the natives are compelled to surrender their lands to aliens and are treated in most instances like slaves. IV. In the southern portion of the United States of America, although citizens under the Federal Constitution, and in some states almost equal to the whites in population and are qualiﬁed land owners and taxpayers, we are, nevertheless, denied

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all voice in the making and administration of the laws and are taxed without representation by the state governments, and at the same time compelled to do military service in defense of the country. V. On the public conveyances and common carriers in the Southern portion of the United States we are jim-crowed and compelled to accept separate and inferior accommodations and made to pay the same fare charged for ﬁrst-class accommodations, and our families are often humiliated and insulted by drunken white men who habitually pass through the jim-crow cars going to the smoking car. VI. The physicians of our race are denied the right to attend their patients while in the public hospitals of the cities and states where they reside in certain parts of the United States. Our children are forced to attend inferior separate schools for shorter terms than white children, and the public school funds are unequally divided between the white and colored schools. VII. We are discriminated against and denied an equal chance to earn wages for the support of our families, and in many instances are refused admission into labor unions, and nearly everywhere are paid smaller wages than white men. VIII. In Civil Service and departmental ofﬁces we are everywhere discriminated against and made to feel that to be a black man in Europe, America and the West Indies is equivalent to being an outcast and a leper among the races of men, no matter what the character and attainments of the black man may be. IX. In the British and other West Indian Islands and colonies, Negroes are secretly and cunningly discriminated against, and denied those fuller rights in government to which white citizens are appointed, nominated and elected. X. That our people in those parts are forced to work for lower wages than the average standard of white men and are kept in conditions repugnant to good civilized tastes and customs. XI. That the many acts of injustice against members of our race before the courts of law in the respective islands and colonies are of such nature as to create disgust and disrespect for the white man’s sense of justice. XII. Against all such inhuman, unchristian and uncivilized treatment we here and now emphatically protest, and invoke the condemnation of all mankind. In order to encourage our race all over the world and to stimulate it to a higher and grander destiny, we demand and insist on the following Declaration of Rights: 1. Be it known to all men that whereas, all men are created equal and entitled to the rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, and because of this we, the duly elected representatives of the Negro peoples of the world, invoking the aid of the just and Almighty God, do declare all men women and children of our blood throughout the world free citizens, and do claim them as free citizens of Africa, the Motherland of all Negroes. 2. That we believe in the supreme authority of our race in all things racial; that all things are created and given to man as a common possession; that their should be an equitable distribution and apportionment of all such things, and in consideration of the fact that as a race we are now deprived of those things that are morally and legally ours, we believe it right that all such things should be acquired and held by whatsoever means possible. 3. That we believe the Negro, like any other race, should be governed by the ethics of civilization, and, therefore, should not be deprived of any of those rights or privileges common to other human beings. 4. We declare that Negroes, wheresoever they form a community among themselves, should be given the right to elect their own representatives to represent them in legislatures,

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courts of law, or such institutions as may exercise control over that particular community. We assert that the Negro is entitled to even-handed justice before all courts of law and equity in whatever country he may be found, and when this is denied him on account of his race or color such denial is an insult to the race as a whole and should be resented by the entire boy of Negroes. We declared it unfair and prejudicial to the rights of Negroes in communities where they exist in considerable numbers to be tried by a judge and jury composed entirely of an alien race, but in all such cases members of our race are entitled to representation on the jury. We believe that any law or practice that tends to deprive any African of his land or the privileges of free citizenship within his country is unjust and immoral, and no native should respect any such law or practice. We declare taxation without representation unjust and tyrannous, and there should be no obligation on the part of the Negro to obey the levy of a tax by any law-making body from which he is excluded and denied representation on account of his race and color. We believe that any law especially directed against the Negro to his detriment and singling him out because of his race or color is unfair and immoral, and should not be respected. We believe all men entitled to common human respect, and that our race should in no way tolerate any insults that may be interpreted to mean disrespect to our color. We deprecate the use of the term ‘‘nigger’’ as applied to Negroes, and demand that the word ‘‘Negro’’ be written with a capital ‘‘N.’’ We believe that the Negro should adopt every means to protect himself against barbarous practices inﬂicted upon him because of color. We believe in the freedom of Africa for the Negro people of the world, and by the principle of Europe for the Europeans and Asia for the Asiatics; we also demand Africa for the Africans at home and abroad. We believe in the inherent right of the Negro to possess himself of Africa, and that his possession of same shall not be regarded as an infringement on any claim or purchase made by any race or nation. We strongly condemn the cupidity of those nations of the world who, by open aggression or secret schemes, have seized the territories and inexhaustible natural wealth of Africa, and we place on record our most solemn determination to reclaim the treasures and possession of the vast continent of our forefathers. We believe all men should live in peace one with the other, but when races and nations provoke the ire of other races and nations by attempting to infringe upon their rights, war becomes inevitable, and the attempt in any way to free one’s self or protect one’s rights or heritage becomes justiﬁable. Whereas, the lynching, by burning, hanging or any other means, of human beings is a barbarous practice, and a shame and disgrace to civilization, we therefore declared any country guilty of such atrocities outside the pale of civilization. We protest against the atrocious crime of whipping, ﬂogging and overworking of the native tribes of Africa and Negroes everywhere. These are methods that should be abolished, and all means should be taken to prevent a continuance of such brutal practices. We protest against the atrocious practice of shaving the heads of Africans, especially of African women or individuals of Negro blood, when placed in prison as a punishment for crime by an alien race. We protest against segregated districts, separate public conveyances, industrial discrimination, lynchings and limitations of political privileges of any Negro citizen in any part of the world on account of race, color, or creed, and will exert our full inﬂuence and power against all such.

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Voices of the African American Experience 21. We protest against any punishment inﬂicted upon a Negro with severity, as against lighter punishment inﬂicted upon another of an alien race for like offense, as an act of prejudice injustice, and that should be resented by the entire race. 22. We protest against the system of education in any country where Negroes are denied the same privileges and advantages as other races. 23. We declare it inhuman and unfair to boycott Negroes from industries and labor in any part of the world. 24. We believe in the doctrine of the freedom of the press, and we therefore emphatically protest against the suppression of Negro newspapers and periodicals in various parts of the world, and call upon Negroes everywhere to employ all available means to prevent such suppression. 25. We further demand free speech universally for all men. 26. We hereby protest against the publication of scandalous and inﬂammatory articles by an alien press tending to create racial strife and the exhibition of picture ﬁlms showing the Negro as a cannibal. 27. We believe in the self-determination of all peoples. 28. We declare for the freedom religious worship. 29. With the help of Almighty God, we declare ourselves the protectors of the honor and virtue of our women and children, and pledge our lives for their protection and defense everywhere, and under all circumstances from wrongs and outrages. 30. We demand the right of unlimited and unprejudiced education for ourselves and our posterity forever. 31. We declare that the teaching in any school by alien teachers to our boys and girls, that the alien race is superior to the Negro race, is an insult to the Negro people of the world. 32. Where Negroes form a part of the citizenry of any country, and pass the civil service examination of such country, we declare them entitled to the same consideration as other citizens as to appointments in such civil service. 33. We vigorously protest against the increasingly unfair and unjust treatment accorded Negro travelers on land and sea by the agents and employees of railroad and steamship companies and insist that for equal fare we receive equal privileges with travelers of other races. 34. We declare it unjust for any country, State or nation to enact laws tending to hinder and obstruct the free immigration of Negroes on account of their race and color. 35. That the right of the Negro to travel unmolested throughout the world be not abridged by any person or persons, and all Negroes are called upon to give aid to a fellow Negro when thus molested. 36. We declare that all Negroes are entitled to the same right to travel over the world as other men. 37. We hereby demand that the governments of the world recognize our leader and his representatives chosen by the race to look after the welfare of our people under such governments. 38. We demand complete control of our social institutions without interference by any alien race or races. 39. That the colors, Red, Black and Green, be the colors of the Negro race. 40. Resolved, That the anthem ‘‘Ethiopia, Thou Land of Our Fathers,’’ etc., shall be the anthem of the Negro race. 41. We believe that any limited liberty which deprives one of the complete rights and prerogatives of full citizenship is but a modiﬁed form of slavery. 42. We declare it an injustice to our people and a serious impediment to the health of the race to deny to competent licensed Negro physicians the right to practice in the public hospitals of the communities in which they reside, for no other reason than their race and color.

79. The Eruption of Tulsa, June 29, 1921 399 43. We call upon the various governments of the world to accept and acknowledge Negro representatives who shall be sent to the said governments to represent the general welfare of the Negro peoples of the world. 44. We deplore and protest against the practice of conﬁning juvenile prisoners in prisons with adults, and we recommend that such youthful prisoners be taught gainful trades under humane supervision. 45. Be it further resolved, that we as a race of people declare the League of Nations null and void as far as the Negro is concerned, in that it seeks to deprive Negroes of their liberty. 46. We demand of all men to do unto us as we would do unto them, in the name of justice; and we cheerfully accord to all men all the rights we claim herein for ourselves. 47. We declare that no Negro shall engage himself in battle for an alien race without ﬁrst obtaining the consent of the leader of the Negro people of the world, except in a matter of national self-defense. 48. We protest against the practice of drafting Negroes and sending them to war with alien forces without proper training, and demand in all cases that Negro soldiers be given the same training as the aliens. 49. We demand that instructions given Negro children in schools include the subject of ‘‘Negro History,’’ to their beneﬁt. 50. We demand a free and unfettered commercial intercourse with all the Negro people of the world. 51. We declare for the absolute freedom of the seas for all peoples. 52. We demand that our duly accredited representatives be given proper recognition in all leagues, conferences, conventions or courts of international arbitration wherever human rights are discussed. 53. We proclaim the 31st day of August of each year to be an international holiday to be observed by all Negroes. 54. We want all men to know we shall maintain and contend for the freedom and equality of every man, woman and child of our race, with our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.

These rights we believe to be justly ours and proper for the protection of the Negro race at large, and because of this belief we, on behalf of the four hundred million Negroes of the world, do pledge herein the sacred blood of the race in defense, and we hereby subscribe our names as a guarantee of the truthfulness and faithfulness hereof in the presence of Almighty God, on the 13th day of August, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and twenty. Marcus Garvey, et al. Source: John Bayne, Notary Public, New York County, County Clerk’s No. 378, New York Register’s No. 12102. C 1998 Copyright UNIA-ACL. All Rights Reserved.

79. The Eruption of Tulsa, June 29, 1921 WALTER WHITE In one of the most chilling events in the entire history of race tensions in the United States, the Tulsa race riots reversed generations of economic, social, and political gains made by African Americans in the city. Beginning on Memorial Day in 1921, a well-armed white mob, some of them deputized by the police department, targeted Tulsa’s prosperous black neighborhood, Greenwood—‘‘The black Wall Street,’’ which had become one of the most vibrant centers of African American life

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in the country. Eventually, the white mob razed thirty-six square blocks, burned to the ground more than 3,000 homes and killed as many as 300 people, many of whom were buried in mass graves or simply dumped anonymously into the Arkansas River. By the end of the onslaught, Tulsa’s thriving black community, which had numbered 15,000 people and rivaled New York City as a national center of urban black life, was destroyed. This document, published in the NAACP’s Crisis magazine, laments the episode. A hysterical white girl related that a nineteen-year-old colored boy attempted to assault her in the public elevator of a public ofﬁce building of a thriving town of 100,000 in open daylight. Without pausing to ﬁnd out whether or not the story was true, without bothering with the slight detail of investigating the character of the woman who made the outcry (as a matter of fact, she was of exceedingly doubtful reputation), a mob of 100-percent Americans set forth on a wild rampage that cost the lives of ﬁfty white men; of between 150 and 200 colored men, women and children; the destruction by ﬁre of $1,500,000 worth of property; the looting of many homes; and everlasting damage to the reputation of the city of Tulsa and the State of Oklahoma. Walter White, President of the NAACP This, in brief, is the story of the eruption of Tulsa on the night of May 31 and the morning of June 1, 1921. One could travel far and ﬁnd few cities where the likelihood of trouble between the races was as little thought of as in Tulsa. Her reign of terror stands as a grim reminder of the grip mob violence has on the throat of America, and the ever-present possibility of devastating race conﬂicts where least expected. Tulsa is a thriving, bustling, enormously wealthy town of between 90,000 and 100,000. In 1910 it was the home of 18,182 souls, a dead and hopeless outlook ahead. Then oil was discovered. The town grew amazingly. On December 29, 1920, it had bank deposits totaling $65,449,985.90; almost $1,000 per capita when compared with the Federal Census ﬁgures of 1920, which gave Tulsa 72,075. The town lies in the center of the oil region and many are the stories told of the making of fabulous fortunes by men who were operating on a shoe-string. Some of the stories rival those of the ‘‘forty-niners’’ in California. The town has a number of modern ofﬁce buildings, many beautiful homes, miles of clean, well-paved streets, and aggressive and progressive businessmen who well exemplify Tulsa’s motto of ‘‘The City with a Personality.’’ So much for the setting. What are the causes of the race riot that occurred in such a place? First, the Negro in Oklahoma has shared in the sudden prosperity that has come to many of his white brothers, and there are some colored men there who are wealthy. This fact has caused a bitter resentment on the part of the lower order of whites, who feel that these colored men, members of an ‘‘inferior race,’’ are exceedingly presumptuous in achieving greater economic prosperity than they who are members of a divinely ordered superior race. There are at least three colored persons in Oklahoma who are worth a million dollars each; J.W. Thompson of Clearview is worth $500,000; there are a number of men and women worth $100,000; and many whose possessions are valued at $25,000 and $50,000 each. This was particularly true of Tulsa, where there were two colored men worth $150,000 each; two worth $100,000; three $50,000; and four who were assessed at $25,000. In one case where a colored man owned and operated a printing plant with $25,000 worth of printing

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machinery in it, the leader of a mob that set ﬁre to and destroyed the plant was a linotype operator employed for years by the colored owner at $48 per week. The white man was killed while attacking the plant. Oklahoma is largely populated by pioneers from other States. Some of the white pioneers are former residents of Mississippi, Georgia, Tennessee, Texas, and other States more typically Southern than Oklahoma. These have brought with them their anti-Negro prejudices. Lethargic and unprogressive by nature, it sorely irks them to see Negroes making greater progress than they themselves are achieving. One of the charges made against the colored men in Tulsa is that they were ‘‘radical.’’ Questioning the whites more closely regarding the nature of this radicalism, I found it means that Negroes were uncompromisingly denouncing ‘‘Jim-Crow’’ cars, lynching, peonage; in short, were asking that the Federal constitutional guaranties of ‘‘life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness’’ be given regardless of color. The Negroes of Tulsa and other Oklahoma cities are pioneers; men and women who have dared, men and women who have had the initiative and the courage to pull up stakes in other less-favored States and face hardship in a newer one for the sake of eventual progress. That type is ever less ready to submit to insult. Those of the whites who seek to maintain the old white group control naturally do not relish seeing Negroes emancipating themselves from the old system. A third cause was the rotten political conditions in Tulsa. A vice ring was in control of the city, allowing open operation of houses of ill fame, of gambling joints, the illegal sale of whiskey, the robbing of banks and stores, with hardly a slight possibility of the arrest of the criminals, and even less of their conviction. For fourteen years Tulsa has been in the absolute control of this element. Most of the better element, and there is a large percentage of Tulsans who can properly be classed as such, are interested in making money and getting away. They have taken little or no interest in the election of city or county ofﬁcials, leaving it to those whose interest it was to secure ofﬁcials who would protect them in their vice operations. About two months ago the State legislature assigned two additional judges to Tulsa County to aid the present two in clearing the badly clogged dockets. These judges found more than six thousand cases awaiting trial. Thus in a county of approximately 100,000 population, six out of every hundred citizens were under indictment for some sort of crime, with little likelihood of trial in any of them. Last July a white man by the name of Roy Belton, accused of murdering a taxicab driver, was taken from the county jail and lynched. According to the statements of many prominent Tulsans, local police ofﬁcers directed trafﬁc at the scene of the lynching, trying to afford every person present an equal chance to view the event. Insurance companies refuse to give Tulsa merchants insurance on their stocks; the risk is too great. There have been so many automobile thefts that a number of companies have canceled all policies on cars in Tulsa. The net result of these conditions was that practically none of the citizens of the town, white or colored, had very much respect for the law. Source: The Nation 112 (June 29, 1921): 909–910.

80. The Autobiography of Marcus Garvey, 1923 In June of 1923, civil rights leader Marcus Garvey was arrested and incarcerated in the Tombs Prison in New York City where he stayed to await the outcome of an appeal for bail. He had been convicted mail fraud related to selling what the

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government deemed to be illegal securities or stock in companies related to his back-to-Africa movement. While in jail, Garvey wrote the most extensive autobiographical statement of his career, and the ﬁrst written for the American public. Garvey attempted to meet two objectives with his statement: to present a brief account of his background and to answer the attacks of his critics. The excerpted essay thus represents Garvey as he wanted the public to view him during a critical phase of his career as an author and the founder of the Universal Negro Improvement Association. I was born in the Island of Jamaica, British West Indies, on Aug. 17, 1887. My parents were black Negroes. My father was a man of brilliant intellect and dashing courage. He was unafraid of consequences. He took human chances in the course of life, as most bold men do, and he failed at the close of his career. He once had a fortune; he died poor. My mother was a sober and conscientious Christian, too soft and good for the time in which she lived. She was the direct opposite of my father. He was severe, ﬁrm, determined, bold and strong, refusing to yield even to superior forces if he believed he was right. My mother, on the other hand, was always willing to return a smile for a blow, and ever ready to bestow charity upon her enemy. Of this strange combination I was born thirty-six years ago, and ushered into a world of sin, the ﬂesh an[d] the devil. I grew up with other black and white boys. I was never whipped by any, but made them all respect the strength of my arms. I got my education from many sources— through private tutors, two public schools, two grammar or high schools and two colleges. My teachers were men and women of varied experiences and abilities; four of them were eminent preachers. They studied me and I studied them. With some I became friendly in after years, others and I drifted apart, because as a boy they wanted to whip me, and I simply refused to be whipped. I was not made to be whipped. It annoys me to be defeated; hence to me, to be once defeated is to ﬁnd cause for an everlasting struggle to reach the top. I became a printer’s apprentice at an early age, while still attending school. My apprentice master was a highly educated and alert man. In the affairs of business and the world he had no peer. He taught me many things before I reached twelve, and at fourteen I had enough intelligence and experience to manage men. I was strong and manly, and I made them respect me. I developed a strong and forceful character, and have maintained it still. To me, at home in my early days, there was no difference between white and black. One of my father’s properties, the place where I lived most of the time, was adjoining that of a white man. He had three girls and two boys; the Wesleyan minister, another white man whose church my parents attended, also had property adjoining ours. He had three girls and one boy. All of us were playmates. We romped and were happy children playmates together. The little white girl whom I liked most knew no better than I did myself. We were two innocent fools who never dreamed of a race feeling and problem. As a child, I went to school with white boys and girls, like all other negroes. We were not called negroes then. I never heard the term negro used once until I was about fourteen. At fourteen my little white playmate and I parted. Her parents thought the time had come to separate us and draw the color line. They sent her and another sister to Edinburgh, Scotland, and told her that she was never to write or try to get in touch with me, for I was a ‘‘nigger.’’ It was then that I found for the ﬁrst time that there

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was some difference in humanity, and that there were different races, each having its own separate and distinct social life. I did not care about the separation after I was told about it, because I never thought all during our childhood association that the girl and the rest of the children of her race were better than I was; in fact, they used to look up to me. So I simply had no regrets. I only thought them ‘‘fresh.’’ After my ﬁrst lesson in race distinction, I never thought of playing with white girls any more, even if they might be next door neighbors. At home my sister’s company was good enough for me, and at school I made friends with the colored girls next to me. White boys and I used to frolic together. We played cricket and baseball, ran races and rode bicycles together, took each other to the river and to the sea beach to learn to swim, and made boyish efforts while out in deep water to drown each other, making a sprint for shore crying out ‘‘shark, shark, shark.’’ In all our experiences, however, only one black boy was drowned. He went under on a Friday afternoon after school hours, and his parents found him aﬂoat half eaten by sharks on the following Sunday afternoon. Since then we boys never went back to sea. ‘‘YOU ARE BLACK’’ At maturity the black and white boys separated, and took different courses in life. I grew up then to see the difference between the races more and more. My schoolmates as young men did not know or remember me any more. Then I realized that I had to make a ﬁght for a place in the world, that it was not so easy to pass on to ofﬁce and position. Personally, however, I had not much difﬁculty in ﬁnding and holding a place for myself, for I was aggressive. At eighteen I had an excellent position as manager of a large printing establishment, having under my control several men old enough to be my grandfathers. But I got mixed up with public life. I started to take an interest in the politics of my country, and then I saw the injustice done to my race because it was black, and I became dissatisﬁed on that account. I went traveling to South and Central America and parts of the West Indies to ﬁnd out if it was so elsewhere, and I found the same situation. I set sail for Europe to ﬁnd out if it was different there, and again I found the same stumbling-block—‘‘You are black.’’ I read of the conditions in America. I read ‘‘Up From Slavery,’’ by Booker T. Washington, and then my doom—if I may so call it—of being a race leader dawned upon me in London after I had traveled through almost half of Europe. I asked, ‘‘Where is the black man’s Government?’’ ‘‘Where is his King and his kingdom?’’ ‘‘Where is his President, his country, and his ambassador, his army, his navy, his men of big affairs?’’ I could not ﬁnd them, and then I declared, ‘‘I will help to make them.’’ Becoming naturally restless for the opportunity of doing something [for] the advancement of my race, I was determined that the black man would not continue to be kicked about by all the other races and nations of the world, as I saw it in the West Indies, South and Central America and Europe, and as I read of it in America. My young and ambitious mind led me into ﬂights of great imagination. I saw before me then, even as I do now, a new world of black men, not peons, serfs, dogs and slaves, but a nation of sturdy men making their impress upon civilization and causing a new light to dawn upon the human race. I could not remain in London any more. My brain was aﬁre. There was a world of thought to conquer. I had to start ere it became too late and the work be not done. Immediately I boarded a ship at

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Southampton for Jamaica, where I arrived on July 15, 1914. The Universal Negro Improvement Association and African Communities (Imperial) League was founded and organized ﬁve days after my arrival, with the program of uniting all the negro peoples of the world into one great body to establish a country and Government absolutely their own. Where did the name of the organization come from? It was while speaking to a West Indian negro who was a passenger with me from Southampton, who was returning home to the West Indies from Basutoland with his Basuto wife, that I further learned of the horrors of native life in Africa. He related to me in conversation such horrible and pitiable tales that my heart bled within me. Retiring from the conversation to my cabin, all day and the following night I pondered over the subject matter of that conversation, and at midnight, lying ﬂat on my back, the vision and thought came to me that I should name the organization the Universal Negro Improvement Association and African Communities (Imperial) League. Such a name I thought would embrace the purpose of all black humanity. Thus to the world a name was born, a movement created, and a man became known. I really never knew there was so much color prejudice in Jamaica, my own native home, until I started the work of the Universal Negro Improvement Association. We started immediately before the war. I had just returned from a successful trip to Europe, which was an exceptional achievement for a black man. The daily papers wrote me up with big headlines and told of my movement. But nobody wanted to be a negro. ‘‘Garvey is crazy; he has lost his head,’’ ‘‘Is that the use he is going to make of his experience and intelligence?’’—such were the criticisms passed upon me. Men and women as black as I, and even more so, had believed themselves white under the West Indian order of [society]. I was simply an impossible man to use openly the term ‘‘negro;’’ yet every one beneath his breath was calling the black man a negro. I had to decide whether to please my friends and be one of the ‘‘black-whites’’ of Jamaica, and be reasonably prosperous, or come out openly and defend and help improve and protect the integrity of the black millions and suffer. I decided to do the latter, hence my offence against ‘‘colored-black-white’’ society in the colonies and America. I was openly hated and persecuted by some of these colored men of the island who did not want to be classiﬁed as negroes, but as white. They hated me worse than poison. They opposed me at every step, but I had a large number of white friends, who encouraged and helped me. Notable among them were the then Governor of the Colony, the Colonial Secretary and several other prominent men. But they were afraid of offending the ‘‘colored gentry’’ that were passing for white. Hence my ﬁght had to be made alone. I spent hundreds of pounds (sterling) helping the organization to gain a footing. I also gave up all my time to the promulgation of its ideals. I became a marked man, but I was determined that the work should be done. The war helped a great deal in arousing the consciousness of the colored people to the reasonableness of our program, especially after the British at home had rejected a large number of West Indian colored men who wanted to be ofﬁcers in the British army. When they were told that negroes could not be ofﬁcers in the British army they started their own propaganda, which supplemented the program of the Universal Negro Improvement Association. With this and other contributing agencies a few of the stiff-necked colored people began to see the reasonableness of my program, but they were ﬁrm in refusing to be known as negroes. Furthermore, I was a black man and therefore had absolutely no right to lead; in the opinion of the

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‘‘colored’’ element, leadership should have been in the hands of a yellow or a very light man. On such ﬂimsy prejudices our race has been retarded. There is more bitterness among us negroes because of the caste of color than there is between any other peoples, not excluding the people of India. I succeeded to a great extent in establishing the association in Jamaica with the assistance of a Catholic Bishop, the Governor, Sir John Pringle, the Rev. William Graham, a Scottish clergyman, and several other white friends. I got in touch with Booker Washington and told him what I wanted to do. He invited me to America and promised to speak with me in the Southern and other States to help my work. Although he died in the Fall of 1915, I made my arrangements and arrived in the United States on March 23, 1916. Here I found a new and different problem. I immediately visited some of the then so-called negro leaders, only to discover, after a close study of them, that they had no program, but were mere opportunists who were living off their so-called leadership while the poor people were groping in the dark. I traveled through thirty-eight States and everywhere found the same condition. I visited Tuskegee and paid my respects to the dead hero, Booker Washington, and then returned to New York, where I organized the New York division of the Universal Negro Improvement Association. After instructing the people in the aims and objects of the association, I intended returning to Jamaica to perfect the Jamaica organization, but when we had enrolled about 800 or 1,000 members in the Harlem district and had elected the ofﬁcers, a few negro politicians began trying to turn the movement into a political club. POLITICAL FACTION FIGHT Seeing that these politicians were about to destroy my ideals, I had to ﬁght to get them out of the organization. There it was that I made by ﬁrst political enemies in Harlem. They fought me until they smashed the ﬁrst organization and reduced its membership to about ﬁfty. I started again and in two months built up a new organization of about 1,500 members. Again the politicians came and divided us into two factions. They took away all the books of the organization, its treasury and all its belongings. At that time I was only an organizer, for it was not then my intention to remain in America, but to return to Jamaica. The organization had its proper ofﬁcers elected, and I was not an ofﬁcer of the New York division, but President of the Jamaica branch. On the second split in Harlem thirteen of the members conferred with me and requested me to become President for a time of the New York organization so as to save them from the politicians. I consented and was elected President. There then sprung up two factions, one led by the politicians with the books and the money, and the other led by me. My faction had no money. I placed at their disposal what money I had, opened an ofﬁce for them, rented a meeting place, employed two women secretaries, went on the streets of Harlem at night to speak for the movement. In three weeks more than 2,000 new members joined. By this time I had the association incorporated so as to prevent the other faction using the name, but in two weeks the politicians had stolen all the people’s money and had smashed up their faction. The organization under my Presidency grew by leaps and bounds. I started The Negro World. Being a journalist, I edited this paper free of cost for the association,

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and worked for them without pay until November, 1920. I traveled all over the country for the association at my own expense, and established branches until in 1919 we had about thirty branches in different cities. By my writings and speeches we were able to build up a large organization of over 2,000,000 by June, 1919, at which time we launched the program of the Black Star Line. To have built up a new organization, which was not purely political, among negroes in America was a wonderful feat, for the negro politician does not allow any other kind of organization within his race to thrive. We succeeded, however, in making the Universal Negro Improvement Association so formidable in 1919 that we encountered more trouble from our political brethren. They sought the inﬂuence of the District Attorney’s ofﬁce of the County of New York to put us out of business. Edwin P. Kilroe, at that time an Assistant District Attorney, on the complaint of the negro politicians, started to investigate us and the association. Mr. Kilroe would constantly and continuously call me to his ofﬁce for investigation on extraneous matters without coming to the point. The result was that after the eight or ninth time I wrote an article in our newspaper, The Negro World, against him. This was interpreted as criminal libel, for which I was indicted and arrested, but subsequently dismissed on retracting what I had written. During my many tilts with Mr. Kilroe, the question of the Black Star Line was discussed. He did not want us to have a line of ships. I told him that even as there was a White Star Line, we would have, irrespective of his wishes, a Black Star Line. On June 27, 1919, we incorporated the Black Star Line of Delaware, and in September we obtained a ship. The following month (October) a man by the name of Tyler came to my ofﬁce at 56 West 135th Street, New York City, and told me that Mr. Kilroe had sent him to ‘‘get me,’’ and at once ﬁred four shots at me from a .38-calibre revolver. He wounded me in the right leg and the right side of my scalp. I was taken to the Harlem Hospital, and he was arrested. The next day it was reported that he committed suicide in jail just before he was to be taken before a City Magistrate. RECORD-BREAKING CONVENTION The ﬁrst year of our activities for the Black Star Line added prestige to the Universal Negro Improvement Association. Several hundred thousand dollars worth of shares were sold. Our ﬁrst ship, the steamship Yarmouth, had made two voyages to the West Indies and Central America. The white press had ﬂashed the news all over the world. I, a young Negro, as President of the corporation, had become famous. My name was discussed on ﬁve continents. The Universal Negro Improvement Association gained millions of followers all over the world. By August, 1920, over 4,000,000 persons had joined the movement. A convention of all the negro peoples of the world was called to meet in New York that month. Delegates came from all parts of the known world. Over 25,000 persons packed the Madison Square Garden on Aug. 1 to hear me speak to the ﬁrst International Convention of Negroes. It was a record-breaking meeting, the ﬁrst and the biggest of its kind. The name of Garvey had become known as a leader of his race. Such fame among negroes was too much for other race leaders and politicians to tolerate. My downfall was planned by my enemies. They laid all kinds of traps for me. They scattered their spies among the employes of the Black Star Line and the

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Universal Negro Improvement Association. Our ofﬁce records were stolen. Employes started to be openly dishonest; we could get no convictions against them; even if on complaint they were held by a Magistrate, they were dismissed by the Grand Jury. The ships’ ofﬁcers started to pile up thousands of dollars of debts against the company without the knowledge of the ofﬁcers of the corporation. Our ships were damaged at sea, and there was a general riot of wreck and ruin. Ofﬁcials of the Universal Negro Improvement Association also began to steal and be openly dishonest. I had to dismiss them. They joined my enemies, and thus I had an endless ﬁght on my hands to save the ideals of the association and carry out our program for the race. My negro enemies, ﬁnding that they alone could not destroy me, resorted to misrepresenting me to the leaders of the white race, several of whom, without proper investigation, also opposed me. With robberies from within and from without, the Black Star Line was forced to suspend active business in December, 1921. While I was on a business trip to the West Indies in the Spring of 1921, the Black Star Line received the blow from which it was unable to recover. A sum of $25,000 was paid by one of the ofﬁcers of the corporation to a man to purchase a ship, but the ship was never obtained and the money was never returned. The company was defrauded of a further sum of $11,000. Through such actions on the part of dishonest men in the shipping business, the Black Star Line received its ﬁrst setback. This resulted in my being indicted for using the United States mails to defraud investors in the company. I was subsequently convicted and sentenced to ﬁve years in a Federal penitentiary. My trial is a matter of history. I know I was not given a square deal, because my indictment was the result of a ‘‘frame-up’’ among my political and business enemies. I had to conduct my own case in court because of the peculiar position in which I found myself. I had millions of friends and a large number of enemies. I wanted a colored attorney to handle my case, but there was none I could trust. I feel that I have been denied justice because of prejudice. Yet I have an abundance of faith in the courts of America, and I hope yet to obtain justice on my appeal. ASSOCIATION’S 6,000,000 MEMBERSHIP The temporary ruin of the Black Star Line in no way affected the larger work of the Universal Negro Improvement Association, which now has 900 branches with an approximate membership of 6,000,000. This organization has succeeded in organizing the negroes all over the world and we now look forward to a renaissance that will create a new people and bring about the restoration of Ethiopia’s ancient glory. Being black, I have committed an unpardonable offense against the very light colored negroes in America and the West Indies by making myself famous as a negro leader of millions. In their view, no black man must rise above them, but I still forge ahead determined to give to the world the truth about the new Negro who is determined to make and hold for himself a place in the affairs of men. The Universal Negro Improvement Association has been misrepresented by my enemies. They have tried to make it appear that we are hostile to other races. This is absolutely false. We love all humanity. We are working for the peace of the world which we believe can only come about when all races are given their due. We feel that there is absolutely no reason why there should be any differences between the black and white races, if each stop to adjust and steady itself. We

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believe in the purity of both races. We do not believe the black man should be encouraged in the idea that his highest purpose in life is to marry a white woman, but we do believe that the white man should be taught to respect the black woman in the same way as he wants the black man to respect the white woman. It is a vicious and dangerous doctrine of social equality to urge, as certain colored leaders do, that black and white should get together, for that would destroy the racial purity of both. We believe that the black people should have a country of their own where they should be given the fullest opportunity to develop politically, socially and industrially. The black people should not be encouraged to remain in white people’s countries and expect to be Presidents, Governors, Mayors, Senators, Congressmen, Judges and social and industrial leaders. We believe that with the rising ambition of the negro, if a country is not provided for him in another 50 or 100 years, there will be a terrible clash that will end disastrously to him and disgrace our civilization. We desire to prevent such a clash by pointing the negro to a home of his own. We feel that all well disposed and broad minded white men will aid in this direction. It is because of this belief no doubt that my negro enemies, so as to prejudice me further in the opinion of the public, wickedly state that I am a member of the Ku Klux Klan, even though I am a black man. I have been deprived of the opportunity of properly explaining my work to the white people of America through the prejudice worked up against me by jealous and wicked members of my own race. My success as a[n] organizer was much more than rival negro leaders could tolerate. They, regardless of consequences, either to me or to the race, had to destroy me by fair means or foul. The thousands of anonymous and other hostile letters written to the editors and publishers of the white press by negro rivals to prejudice me in the eyes of public opinion are sufﬁcient evidence of the wicked and vicious opposition I have had to meet from among my own people, especially among the very lightly colored. But they went further than the press in their attempts to discredit me. They organized clubs all over the United States and the West Indies, and wrote both open and anonymous letters to city, State and Federal ofﬁcials of this and other Governments to induce them to use their inﬂuence to hamper and destroy me. No wonder, therefore, that several Judges, District Attorneys and other high ofﬁcials have been against me without knowing me. No wonder, therefore, that the great white population of this country and of the world has a wrong impression of the aims and objects of the Universal Negro Improvement Association and of the work of Marcus Garvey. THE STRUGGLE OF THE FUTURE Having had the wrong education as a start in his racial career, the negro has become his own greatest enemy. Most of the trouble I have had in advancing the cause of the race has come from negroes. Booker Washington aptly described the race in one of his lectures by stating that we were like crabs in a barrel, that none would allow the other to climb over, but on any such attempt all would continue to pull back into the barrel the one crab that would make the effort to climb out. Yet, those of us with vision cannot desert the race, leaving it to suffer and die. Looking forward a century or two, we can see an economic and political death struggle for the survival of the different race groups. Many of our present-day

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national centres will have become overcrowded with vast surplus populations. The ﬁght for bread and position will be keen and severe. The weaker and unprepared group is bound to go under. That is why, visionaries as we are in the Universal Negro Improvement Association, we are ﬁghting for the founding of a negro nation in Africa, so that there will be no clash between black and white and that each race will have a separate existence and civilization all its own without courting suspicion and hatred or eyeing each other with jealousy and rivalry within the borders of the same country. White men who have struggled for and built up their countries and their own civilizations are not disposed to hand them over to the negro or any other race without let or hindrance. It would be unreasonable to expect this. Hence any vain assumption on the part of the negro to imagine that he will one day become President of the Nation, Governor of the State, or Mayor of the city in the countries of white men, is like waiting on the devil and his angels to take up their residence in the Realm on High and direct there the affairs of Paradise. Source: Copyright C 1995–2008 The Marcus Garvey and UNIA Papers Project, UCLA.

81. Harlem, March 1925 ALAIN LOCKE In March 1925 Survey Graphic magazine commissioned scholar Alain Locke to oversee a landmark collection of studies, reports, and essays, all dedicated to what seemed like the emergence of a renaissance—a cultural ﬂowering of black life—in Harlem. If we were to offer a symbol of what Harlem has come to mean in the short span of twenty years, it would be another statue of liberty on the landward side of New York. It stands for a folk-movement which in human signiﬁcance can be compared only with the pushing back of the western frontier in the ﬁrst half of the last century, or the waves of immigration which have swept in from overseas in the last half. Numerically far smaller than either of these movements, the volume of migration is such none the less that Harlem has become the greatest Negro community the world has known—without counterpart in the South or in Africa. But beyond this, Harlem represents the Negro’s latest thrust towards Democracy. The special signiﬁcance that today stamps it as the sign and center of the renaissance of a people lies, however, layers deep under the Harlem that many know but few have begun to understand. Physically Harlem is little more than a note of sharper color in the kaleidoscope of New York. The metropolis pays little heed to the shifting crystallizations of its own heterogeneous millions. Never having experienced permanence, it has watched, without emotion or even curiosity, Irish, Jew, Italian, Negro, a score of other races drift in and out of the same colorless tenements. So Harlem has come into being and grasped its destiny with little heed from New York. And to the herded thousands who shoot beneath it twice a day on the subway, or the comparatively few whose daily travel takes them within sight of its fringes or down its main arteries, it is a black belt and nothing more. The pattern of delicatessen store and cigar shop and restaurant and undertaker’s shop which repeats itself a thousand times on each of New York’s long avenues is unbroken through Harlem. Its apartments, churches and storefronts antedated the Negroes and, for all

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New York knows, may outlast them there. For most of New York, Harlem is merely a rough rectangle of common-place city blocks, lying between and to east and west of Lenox and Seventh Avenues, stretching nearly a mile north and south—and unaccountably full of Negroes. Another Harlem is savored by the few—a Harlem of racy music and racier dancing, of cabarets famous or notorious according to their kind, of amusement in which abandon and sophistication are cheek by jowl—a Harlem which draws the connoisseur in diversion as well as the undiscriminating sightseer. This Harlem is the fertile source of the ‘‘shufﬂing’’ and ‘‘rollin’’’ and ‘‘runnin’ wild’’ revues that establish themselves season after season in ‘‘downtown’’ theaters. It is part of the exotic fringe of the metropolis. Beneath this lies again the Harlem of the newspapers—a Harlem of monster parades and political ﬂummery, a Harlem swept by revolutionary oratory or draped about the mysterious ﬁgures of Negro ‘‘millionaires,’’ a Harlem pre-occupied with naive adjustments to a white world—a Harlem, in short, grotesque with the distortions of journalism. YET in ﬁnal analysis, Harlem is neither slum, ghetto, resort or colony, though it is in part all of them. It is—or promises at least to be—a race capital. Europe seething in a dozen centers with emergent nationalities, Palestine full of a renascent Judaism— these are no more alive with the spirit of a racial awakening than Harlem; culturally and spiritually it focuses a people. Negro life is not only founding new centers, but ﬁnding a new soul. The tide of Negro migration, northward and city-ward, is not to be fully explained as a blind ﬂood started by the demands of war industry coupled with the shutting off of foreign migration, or by the pressure of poor crops coupled with increased social terrorism in certain sections of the South and Southwest. Neither labor demand, the boll-weevil nor the Ku Klux Klan is a basic factor, however contributory any or all of them may have been. The wash and rush of this human tide on the beach line of the northern city centers is to be explained primarily in terms of a new vision of opportunity, of social and economic freedom of a spirit to seize, even in the face of an extortionate and heavy toll, a chance for the improvement of conditions. With each successive wave of it, the movement of the Negro migrant becomes more and more like that of the European waves at their crests, a mass movement toward the larger and the more democratic chance—in the Negro’s case a deliberate ﬂight not only from countryside to city, but from medieaval America to modern. The secret lies close to what distinguishes Harlem from the ghettos with which it is sometimes compared. The ghetto picture is that of a slowly dissolving mass, bound by ties of custom and culture and association, in the midst of a freer and more varied society. From the racial standpoint, our Harlems are themselves crucibles. Here in Manhattan is not merely the largest Negro community in the world, but the ﬁrst concentration in history of so many diverse elements of Negro life. It has attracted the African, the West Indian, the Negro American; has brought together the Negro of the North and the Negro of the South; the man from the city and the man from the town and village; the peasant, the student, the business man, the professional man, artist, poet, musician, adventurer and worker, preacher and criminal, exploiter and social outcast. Each group has come with its own separate motives and for its own special ends, but their greatest experience has been the ﬁnding of one another. Proscription and prejudice have thrown these dissimilar elements into a common area of contact and interaction. Within this area, race sympathy and unity have determined a further fusing of sentiment and experience … Hitherto, it must be

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admitted that American Negroes have been a race more in name than in fact, or to be exact, more in sentiment than in experience. The chief bond between them has been that of a common condition rather than a common consciousness; a problem in common rather than a life in common. In Harlem, Negro life is seizing upon its ﬁrst chances for group expression and self-determination. That is why our comparison is taken with those nascent centers of folk-expression and self-determination which are playing a creative part in the world today. Without pretense to their political signiﬁcance, Harlem has the same role to play for the New Negro as Dublin has had for the New Ireland or Prague for the New Czechoslovakia. It is true the formidable centers of our race life, educational, industrial, ﬁnancial, are not in Harlem, yet here, nevertheless, are the forces that make a group known and felt in the world. The reformers, the ﬁghting advocates, the inner spokesmen, the poets, artists and social prophets are here, and pouring in toward them are the ﬂuid ambitious youth and pressing in upon them the migrant masses. The professional observers, and the enveloping communities as well, are conscious of the physics of this stir and movement, of the cruder and more obvious facts of a ferment and a migration. But they are as yet largely unaware of the psychology of it, of the galvanizing shocks and reactions, which mark the social awakening and internal reorganization which are making a race out of its own disunited elements. A railroad ticket and a suitcase, like a Baghdad carpet, transport the Negro peasant from the cotton-ﬁeld and farm to the heart of the most complex urban civilization. Here in the mass, he must and does survive a jump of two generations in social economy and of a century and more in civilization. Meanwhile the Negro poet, student, artist, thinker, by the very move that normally would take him off at a tangent from the masses, ﬁnds himself in their midst, in a situation concentrating the racial side of his experience and heightening his race-consciousness. These moving, halfawakened newcomers provide an exceptional seed-bed for the germinating contacts of the enlightened minority. And that is why statistics are out of joint with fact in Harlem, and will be for a generation or so. HARLEM, I grant you, isn’t typical—but it is signiﬁcant, it is prophetic. No sane observer, however sympathetic to the new trend, would contend that the great masses are articulate as yet, but they stir, they move, they are more than physically restless. The challenge of the new intellectuals among them is clear enough—the ‘‘race radicals’’ and realists who have broken with the old epoch of philanthropic guidance, sentimental appeal and protest. But are we after all only reading into the stirrings of a sleeping giant the dreams of an agitator? The answer is in the migrating peasant. It is the ‘‘man farthest down’’ who is most active in getting up. One of the most characteristic symptoms of this is the professional man himself migrating to recapture his constituency after a vain effort to maintain in some Southern corner what for years back seemed an established living and clientele. The clergyman following his errant ﬂock, the physician or lawyer trailing his clients, supply the true clues. In a real sense it is the rank and ﬁle who are leading, and the leaders who are following. A transformed and transforming psychology permeates the masses. When the racial leaders of twenty years ago spoke of developing race-pride and stimulating race-consciousness, and of the desirability of race solidarity, they could not in any accurate degree have anticipated the abrupt feeling that has surged up and now pervades the awakened centers. Some of the recognized Negro leaders and a powerful section of white opinion identiﬁed with ‘‘race work’’ of the older order

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have indeed attempted to discount this feeling as a ‘‘passing phase,’’ an attack of ‘‘race nerves,’’ so to speak, an ‘‘aftermath of the war,’’ and the like. It has not abated, however, if we are to gage by the present tone and temper of the Negro press, or by the shift in popular support from the ofﬁcially recognized and orthodox spokesmen to those of the independent, popular, and often radical type who are unmistakable symptoms of a new order. It is a social disservice to blunt the fact that the Negro of the Northern centers has reached a stage where tutelage, even of the most interested and well-intentioned sort, must give place to new relationships, where positive selfdirection must be reckoned with in ever increasing measure. As a service to this new understanding, the contributors to this Harlem number have been asked, not merely to describe Harlem as a city of migrants and as a race center, but to voice these new aspirations of a people, to read the clear message of the new conditions, and to discuss some of the new relationships and contacts they involve. First, we shall look at Harlem, with its kindred centers in the Northern and Mid-Western cities, as the way mark of a momentous folk movement; then as the center of a gripping struggle for an industrial and urban foothold. But more signiﬁcant than either of these, we shall also view it as the stage of the pageant of contemporary Negro life. In the drama of its new and progressive aspects, we may be witnessing the resurgence of a race; with our eyes focused on the Harlem scene we may dramatically glimpse the New Negro. A.L. Source: The Survey Graphic Harlem Number, Vol. VI, No. 6, March, 1925. Survey Associates, Inc.

82. Enter the New Negro, March 1925 ALAIN LOCKE In or around 1915, a new segment of American society—a culture of African Americans—began to gradually make itself evident. The newness was not due to the presence of African Americans, but rather the ﬂowering of a self-conscious ‘‘New Negro.’’ It was an evolution that probably began the minute after the ﬁrst group of slaves arrived in Jamestown; when the ﬁrst slave revolt occurred or when the ﬁrst slave escaped bondage anywhere in America and began the trek towards self discovery. Regardless of when this liberation movement began, what it ﬂowered was ﬁnally recognized in the decade between 1915 and 1925 as ‘‘something beyond the watch and guard of statistics … in the life of the American Negro.’’ Scholar Alain Locke said these changes went unnoticed by sociologists, philanthropists, and others because this emerging cultural wing of mainstream America seemed to defy any ‘‘formulae.’’ A ‘‘younger generation is vibrant with a new psychology; the new spirit is awake in the masses, and under the very eyes of the professional observers is transforming what has been a perennial problem into the progressive phases of contemporary Negro life,’’ Locke said. In ‘‘Enter the New Negro,’’ Locke explains the unprecedented transformation of black culture in America. The Old Negro had long become more of a myth than a man. The Old Negro, we must remember, was a creature of moral debate and historical controversy. His has been a stock ﬁgure perpetuated as an historical ﬁction partly in innocent sentimentalism, partly in deliberate reactionism. The Negro himself has contributed his share to this through a sort of protective social mimicry forced upon him by the

82. Enter the New Negro, March 1925

adverse circumstances of dependence. So for generations in the mind of America, the Negro has been more of a formula than a human being—a something to be argued about, condemned or defended, to be ‘‘kept down,’’ or ‘‘in his place,’’ or ‘‘helped up,’’ to be worried with or worried over, harassed or patronized, a social bogey or a social burden. The thinking Negro even has been induced to share this same general attitude, to focus his attention on controversial issues, to see himself in the distorted perspective of a social problem. His shadow, so to speak, has been more real to him than his personality. Through having had to appeal from the unjust stereotypes of his oppressors and traducers to those of his liberators, friends and benefactors, he has subscribed to the traditional positions from which his case has been viewed. Little true social or self-understanding has or could come from such a situation. But while the minds of most of us, black and white, have thus burrowed in the trenches of the Civil War and Reconstruction, the actual march of development has simply ﬂanked these positions, necessitating a sudden reorientation of view. We have not been watching in the right direction; set worth and South on a sectional axis, eve have not noticed the East till the sun has us blinking. Recall how suddenly the Negro spirituals revealed themselves; suppressed for generations under the stereotypes of Wesleyan hymn harmony, secretive, half-ashamed, until the courage of being natural brought them out—and behold, there was folkmusic. Similarly the mind of the Negro seems suddenly to have slipped from under the tyranny of social intimidation and to be shaking off the psychology of imitation and implied inferiority. By shedding the old chrysalis of the Negro problem we are achieving something like a spiritual emancipation. Until recently, lacking self understanding, we have been almost as much of a problem to ourselves as we still are to others. But the decade that found us with a problem has left us with only a task. The multitude perhaps feels as yet only a strange relief and a new vague urge, but the thinking few know that in the reaction the vital inner grip of prejudice has been broken. With this renewed self-respect and self-dependence, the life of the Negro community is bound to enter a new dynamic phase, the buoyancy from within compensating for whatever pressure there may be of conditions from without. The migrant masses, shifting from countryside to city, hurdle several generations of experience at a leap, but more important, the same thing happens spiritually in the life-attitudes and self-expression of the Young Negro, in his poetry, his art, his education and his new outlook, with the additional advantage, of course, of the poise and greater certainty of knowing what it is all about. From this comes the promise and warrant of a new leadership. As one of them has discerningly put it: We have tomorrow Bright before us Like a ﬂame. Yesterday, a night-gone thing A sun-down name. And dawn today Broad arch above the road we came. We march!

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This is what, even more than any ‘‘most creditable record of ﬁfty years of freedom,’’ requires that the Negro of today be seen through other than the dusty spectacles of past controversy. The day of ‘‘aunties,’’ ‘‘uncles’’ and ‘‘mammies’’ is equally gone. Uncle Tom and Sambo have passed on, and even the ‘‘Colonel’’ and ‘‘George’’ play barnstorm roles from which they escape with relief when the public spotlight is off. The popular melodrama has about played itself out, and it is time to scrap the ﬁctions, garret the bogeys and settle down to a realistic facing of facts. First we must observe some of the changes which since the traditional lines of opinion were drawn have rendered these quite obsolete. A main change has been, of course, that shifting of the Negro population which has made the Negro problem no longer exclusively or even predominantly Southern. Why should our minds remain sectionalized, when the problem itself no longer is? Then the trend of migration has not only been toward the North and the Central Midwest, but city-ward and to the great centers of industry—the problems of adjustment are new, practical, local and not peculiarly racial. Rather they are an integral part of the large industrial and social problems of our present-day democracy. And ﬁnally, with the Negro rapidly in process of class differentiation, if it ever was warrantable to regard and treat the Negro en masse it is becoming with every day less possible, more unjust and more ridiculous. The Negro too, for his part, has idols of the tribe to smash. If on the one hand the white man has erred in making the Negro appear to be that which would excuse or extenuate his treatment of him, the Negro, in turn, has too often unnecessarily excused himself because of the way he has been treated. The intelligent Negro of today is resolved not to make discrimination an extenuation for his shortcomings in performance, individual or collective; he is trying to hold himself at par, neither inﬂated by sentimental allowances nor depreciated by current social discounts. For this he must know himself and be known for precisely what he is, and for that reason he welcomes the new scientiﬁc rather than the old sentimental interest. Sentimental interest in the Negro has ebbed. We used to lament this as the falling off of our friends; now we rejoice and pray to be delivered both from self-pity and condescension. The mind of each racial group has had a bitter weaning, apathy or hatred on one side matching disillusionment or resentment on the other; but they face each other today with the possibility at least of entirely new mutual attitudes. It does not follow that if the Negro were better known, he would be better liked or better treated. But mutual understanding is basic for any subsequent cooperation and adjustment. The effort toward this will at least have the effect of remedying in large part what has been the most unsatisfactory feature of our present stage of race relationships in America, namely the fact that the more intelligent and representative elements of the two race groups have at so many points got quite out of vital touch with one another. The ﬁction is that the life of the races is separate and increasingly so. The fact is that they have touched too closely at the unfavorable and too lightly at the favorable levels. While inter-racial councils have sprung up in the South, drawing on forward elements of both races, in the Northern cities manual laborers may brush elbows in their everyday work, but the community and business leaders have experienced no such interplay or far too little of it. These segments must achieve contact or the race situation in America becomes desperate. Fortunately this is happening. There is a

82. Enter the New Negro, March 1925

growing realization that in social effort the cooperative basis must supplant long-distance philanthropy, and that the only safeguard for mass relations in the future must be provided in the carefully maintained contacts of the enlightened minorities of both race groups. In the intellectual realm a renewed and keen curiosity is replacing the recent apathy; the Negro is being carefully studied, not just talked about and discussed. In art and letters, instead of being wholly caricatured, he is being seriously portray eel and painted. To all of this the New Negro is keenly responsive as an augury of a new democracy in American culture. He is contributing his share to the new social understanding. But the desire to be understood would never in itself have been sufﬁcient to have opened so completely the protectively closed portals of the thinking Negro’s mind. There is still too much possibility of being snubbed or patronized for that. It was rather the necessity for fuller, truer, self-expression, the realization of the unwisdom of allowing social discrimination to segregate him mentally, and a counterattitude to cramp and fetter his own living—and so the ‘‘spite-wall’’ that the intellectuals built over the ‘‘color-line’’ has happily been taken down. Much of this reopening of intellectual Contacts has Entered in New York and has been richly fruitful not merely in the enlarging of personal experience, but in the deﬁnite enrichment of American art and letters and in the clarifying of our common vision of the social tasks ahead. The particular signiﬁcance in the reestablishment of contact between the more advanced and representative classes is that it promises to offset some of the unfavorable reactions of the past, or at least to re-surface race contacts somewhat for the future. Subtly the conditions that are moulding a New Negro are moulding a new American attitude. However, this new phase of things is delicate; it will call for less charity but more justice; less help, but inﬁnitely closer understanding. This is indeed a critical stage of race relationships because of the likelihood, if the new temper is not understood, of engendering sharp group antagonism and a second crop of more calculated prejudice. In some quarters, it has already done so. Having weaned the Negro, public opinion cannot continue to paternalize. The Negro today is inevitably moving forward under the control largely of his own objectives. What are these objectives? Those of his outer life are happily already well and ﬁnally formulated, for they are none other than the ideals of American institutions and democracy. Those of his inner life are yet in process of formation, for the new psychology at present is more of a consensus of feeling than of opinion, of attitude rather than of program. Still some points seem to have crystallized. UP to the present one may adequately describe the Negro’s ‘‘inner objectives’’ as an attempt to repair a damaged group psychology and reshape a warped social perspective. Their realization has required a new mentality for the American Negro. And as it matures we begin to see its effects; at ﬁrst, negative, iconoclastic, and then positive and constructive. In this new group psychology we note the lapse of sentimental appeal, then the development of a more positive self-respect and self-reliance; the repudiation of social dependence, and then the gradual recovery from hypersensitiveness and ‘‘touchy’’ nerves, the repudiation of the double standard of judgment with its special philanthropic allowances and then the sturdier desire for objective and scientiﬁc appraisal; and ﬁnally the rise from social disillusionment to race pride, from the sense of social debt to the responsibilities of social contribution,

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and offsetting the necessary working and commonsense acceptance of restricted conditions, the belief in ultimate esteem and recognition. Therefore the Negro today wishes to be known for what he is, even in his faults and shortcomings, and scorns a craven and precarious survival at the price of seeming to be what he is not. He resents being spoken for as a social ward or minor, even by his own, and to being regarded a chronic patient for the sociological clinic, the sick man of American Democracy. For the same reasons he himself is through with those social nostrums and panaceas, the so-called ‘‘solutions’’ of his ‘‘problem,’’ with which he and the country have been so liberally dosed in the past. Religion, freedom, education, money—in turn, he has ardently hoped for and peculiarly trusted these things; he still believes in them, but not in blind trust that they alone will solve his life-problem. Each generation, however, will have its creed and that of the present is the belief in the efﬁcacy of collective efforts in race cooperation. This deep feeling of race is at present the mainspring of Negro life. It seems to be the outcome of the reaction to proscription and prejudice; an attempt, fairly successful on the whole, to convert a defensive into an offensive position, a handicap into an incentive. It is radical in tone, but not in purpose and only the most stupid forms of opposition, misunderstanding or persecution could make it otherwise. Of course, the thinking Negro has shifted a little toward the left with the world-trend, and there is an increasing group who afﬁliate with radical and liberal movements. But fundamentally for the present the Negro is radical on race matters, conservative on others, in other words, a ‘‘forced radical,’’ a social protestant rather than a genuine radical. Yet under further pressure and injustice iconoclastic thought and motives will inevitably increase. Harlem’s quixotic radicalisms call for their ounce of democracy today lest tomorrow they be beyond cure. The Negro mind reaches out as yet to nothing but American wants, American ideas. But this forced attempt to build his Americanism on race values is a unique social experiment, and its ultimate success is impossible except through the fullest sharing of American culture and institutions. There should be no delusion about this. American nerves in sections unstrung with race hysteria are often fed the opiate that the trend of Negro advance is wholly separatist, and that the effect of its operation will be to encyst the Negro as a benign foreign body in the body politic. This cannot be—even if it were desirable. The racialism of the Negro is no limitation or reservation with respect to American life; it is only a constructive effort to build the obstructions in the stream of his progress into an efﬁcient dam of social energy and power. Democracy itself is obstructed and stagnated to the extent that any of its channels are closed. Indeed they cannot be selectively closed. So the choice is not between one way for the Negro and another way for the rest, but between American institutions frustrated on the one hand and American ideals progressively fulﬁlled and realized on the other. There is, of course, a warrantably comfortable feeling in being on the right side of the country’s professed ideals. We realize that we cannot be undone without America’s undoing. It is within the gamut of this attitude that the thinking Negro faces America, but the variations of mood in connection with it are if anything more signiﬁcant than the attitude itself. Sometimes we have it taken with the deﬁant ironic challenge of McKay: Mine is the future grinding down today Like a great landslip moving to the sea,

82. Enter the New Negro, March 1925

Bearing its freight of debris far away Where the green hungry waters restlessly Heave mammoth pyramids and break and roar Their eerie challenge to the crumbling shore. Sometimes, perhaps more frequently as yet, in the fervent and almost ﬁlial appeal and counsel of Weldon Johnson’s: O Southland, dear Southland! Then why do you still cling To an idle age and a musty page, To a dead and useless thing. But between deﬁance and appeal, midway almost between cynicism and hope, the prevailing mind stands in the mood of the same author’s To America, an attitude of sober query and stoical challenge: How would you have us, as we are? Or sinking heath the load we bear, Our eyes ﬁxed forward on a star, Or gazing empty at despair? Rising or falling? Men or things? With dragging pace or footsteps ﬂeet? Strong, willing sinews in your wings, Or tightening chains about your feet? More and more, however, an intelligent realization of the great discrepancy between the American social creed and the American social practice forces upon the Negro the taking of the moral advantage that is his. Only the steadying and sobering effect of a truly characteristic gentleness of spirit prevents the rapid rise of a deﬁnite cynicism and counter-hate and a deﬁant superiority feeling. Human as this reaction would be, the majority still deprecate its advent, and would gladly see it forestalled by the speedy amelioration of its causes. We wish our race pride to be a healthier, more positive achievement than a feeling based upon a realization of the shortcomings of others. But all paths toward the attainment of a sound social attitude have been difﬁcult; only a relatively few enlightened minds have been able as the phrase puts it ‘‘to rise above’’ prejudice. The ordinary man has had until recently only a hard choice between the alternatives of supine and humiliating submission and stimulating but hurtful counter-prejudice. Fortunately from some inner, desperate resourcefulness has recently sprung up the simple expedient of ﬁghting prejudice by mental passive resistance, in other words by trying to ignore it. For the few, this manna may perhaps be effective, but the masses cannot thrive on it. FORTUNATELY there are constructive channels opening out into which the balked social feelings of the American Negro can ﬂow freely. Without them there would be much more pressure and danger than there is. These compensating interests are racial but in a new and enlarged way. One is the consciousness of acting as the advance-guard of the African peoples in their contact

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with Twentieth Century civilization; the other, the sense of a mission of rehabilitating the race in world esteem from that loss of prestige for which the fate and conditions of slavery have so largely been responsible. Harlem, as we shall see, is the center of both these movements; she is the home of the Negro’s ‘‘Zionism.’’ The pulse of the Negro world has begun to beat in Harlem. A Negro newspaper carrying news material in English, French and Spanish, gathered from all quarters of America, the West Indies and Africa has maintained itself in Harlem for over ﬁve years. Two important magazines, both edited from New York, maintain their news and circulation consistently on a cosmopolitan scale. Under American auspices and backing, three pan-African congresses have been held abroad for the discussion of common interests, colonial questions and the future cooperative development of Africa. In terms of the race question as a world problem, the Negro mind has leapt, so to speak, upon the parapets of prejudice and extended its cramped horizons. In so doing it has linked up with the growing group consciousness of the dark-peoples and is gradually learning their common interests. As one of our writers has recently put it: ‘‘It is imperative that we understand the white world in its relations to the nonwhite world.’’ As with the Jew, persecution is making the Negro international. As a world phenomenon this wider race consciousness is a different thing from the much asserted rising tide of color. Its inevitable causes are not of our making. The consequences are not necessarily damaging to the best interests of civilization. Whether it actually brings into being new Armadas of conﬂict or argosies of cultural exchange and enlightenment can only be decided by the attitude of the dominant races in an era of critical change. With the American Negro his new internationalism is primarily an effort to recapture contact with the scattered peoples of African derivation. Garveyism may be a transient, if spectacular, phenomenon, but the possible role of the American Negro in the future development of Africa is one of the most constructive and universally helpful missions that any modern people can lay claim to. Constructive participation in such causes cannot help giving the Negro valuable group incentives, as well as increased prestige at home and abroad. Our greatest rehabilitation may possibly come through such channels, but for the present, more immediate hope rests in the revaluation by white and black alike of the Negro in terms of his artistic endowments and cultural contributions, past and prospective. It must be increasingly recognized that the Negro has already made very substantial contributions, not only in his folk-art, music especially, which has always found appreciation, but in larger, though humbler and less acknowledged ways. For generations the Negro has been the peasant matrix of that section of America which has most undervalued him, and here he has contributed not only materially in labor and in social patience, but spiritually as well. The South has unconsciously absorbed the gift of his folk-temperament. In less than half a generation it will be easier to recognize this, but the fact remains that a leaven of humor, sentiment, imagination and tropic nonchalance has gone into the making of the South from a humble, unacknowledged source. A second crop of the Negro’s gifts promises still more largely. He now becomes a conscious contributor … beneﬁciary and ward for that of a collaborator and participant in American civilization. The great social gain in this is the releasing of our talented group from the arid ﬁelds of controversy and debate to the productive ﬁelds of creative expression. The especially cultural recognition they win should in turn prove the key to that revaluation of the Negro which must

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precede or accompany any considerable further betterment of race relationships. But whatever the general effect, the present generation will have added the motives of self-expression and spiritual development to the old and still unﬁnished task of making material headway and progress. No one who understandingly faces the situation with its substantial accomplishment or views the new scene with its still more abundant promise can be entirely without hope. And certainly, if in our lifetime the Negro should not be able to celebrate his full initiation into American democracy, he can at least, on the warrant of these things, celebrate the attainment of a signiﬁcant and satisfying new phase of group development, and with it a spiritual Coming of Age. Source: The Survey Graphic Harlem Number, Vol. VI, No. 6, March, 1925. Survey Associates, Inc.

83. African Fundamentalism, 1925 MARCUS GARVEY Activist Marcus Garvey wrote ‘‘African Fundamentalism,’’ an editorial and one of his most famous essays, at the peak of the fundamentalist revival that swept America following World War I. In his essay, Garvey played on the social Darwinist issues that were publicly highlighted by the Scopes trial and gave them an ironic twist. He adopted elements of the evolutionary theory of the secularists and of the strong nativist strain of the fundamentalists and utilized them both as premises to support his own counterargument. He presented black people in northern Africa as representatives of a higher form of life and culture than their white counterparts in Europe. He thus reversed the popular contemporary claims of white eugenicists, who applied evolutionary theory to society, associating people of African heritage with the slow development of the apes and offering their results as ‘‘proof’ of white racial superiority. Garvey’s essay not only refutes this notion, but turns it completely on its head. Fellow Men of the Negro Race, Greeting: The time has come for the Negro to forget and cast behind him his hero worship and adoration of other races, and to start out immediately, to create and emulate heroes of his own. Marcus Garvey We must canonize our own saints, create our own martyrs, and elevate to positions of fame and honor black men and women who have made their distinct contributions to our racial history. Sojourner Truth is worthy of the place of sainthood alongside of Joan of Arc; Crispus Attucks and George William Gordon are entitled to the halo of martyrdom with no less glory than that of the martyrs of any other race. Toussaint L’Ouverture’s brilliancy as a soldier and statesman outshone that of a Cromwell, Napoleon and Washington; hence, he is entitled to the highest place as a hero among men. Africa has produced countless numbers of men and women, in war and in peace, whose lustre and bravery outshine that of any other people. Then why not see good and perfection in ourselves? THE RIGHT TO OUR DOCTRINE We must inspire a literature and promulgate a doctrine of our own without any apologies to the powers that be. The right is ours and God’s. Let contrary sentiment and cross opinions go to the winds. Opposition to race independence is the weapon

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of the enemy to defeat the hopes of an unfortunate people. We are entitled to our own opinions and not obligated to or bound by the opinions of others. A PEEP AT THE PAST If others laugh at you, return the laughter to them; if they mimic you, return the compliment with equal force. They have no more right to dishonor, disrespect and disregard your feeling and manhood than you have in dealing with them. Honor them when they honor you; disrespect and disregard them when they vilely treat you. Their arrogance is but skin deep and an assumption that has no foundation in morals or in law. They have sprung from the same family tree of obscurity as we have; their history is as rude in its primitiveness as ours; their ancestors ran wild and naked, lived in caves and in the branches of trees, like monkeys, as ours; they made human sacriﬁces, ate the ﬂesh of their own dead and the raw meat of the wild beast for centuries even as they accuse us of doing; their cannibalism was more prolonged than ours; when we were embracing the arts and sciences on the banks of the Nile their ancestors were still drinking human blood and eating out of the skulls of their conquered dead; when our civilization had reached the noonday of progress they were still running naked and sleeping in holes and caves with rats, bats and other insects and animals. After we had already unfathomed the mysteries of the stars and reduced the heavenly constellations to minute and regular calculus they were still backwoodsmen, living in ignorance and blatant darkness. WHY BE DISCOURAGED? The world today is indebted to us for the beneﬁts of civilization. They stole our arts and sciences from Africa. Then why should we be ashamed of ourselves? Their MODERN IMPROVEMENTS are but DUPLICATES of a grander civilization that we reﬂected thousands of years ago, without the advantage of what is buried and still hidden, to be resurrected and reintroduced by the intelligence of our generation and our prosperity. Why should we be discouraged because somebody laughs at us today? Who to tell what tomorrow will bring forth? Did they not laugh at Moses, Christ and Mohammed? Was there not a Carthage, Greece and Rome? We see and have changes every day, so pray, work, be steadfast and be not dismayed. NOTHING MUST KILL THE EMPIRE URGE As the Jew is held together by his RELIGION, the white races by the assumption and the unwritten law of SUPERIORITY, and the Mongolian by the precious tie of BLOOD, so likewise the Negro must be united in one GRAND RACIAL HIERARCHY. Our UNION MUST KNOW NO CLIME, BOUNDARY, or NATIONALITY. Like the great Church of Rome, Negroes the world over MUST PRACTICE ONE FAITH, that of Conﬁdence in themselves, with One God! One Aim! One Destiny! Let no religious scruples, no political machination divide us, but let us hold together under all climes and in every country, making among ourselves a Racial Empire upon which ‘‘the sun shall never set.’’

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ALLEGIANCE TO SELF FIRST Let no voice but your own speak to you from the depths. Let no inﬂuence but your own raise you in time of peace and time of war. Hear all, but attend only that which concerns you. Your ﬁrst allegiance shall be to your God, then to your family, race and country. Remember always that the Jew in his political and economic urge is always ﬁrst a Jew; the white man is ﬁrst a white man under all circumstances, and you can do no less than being ﬁrst and always a Negro, and then all else will take care of itself. Let no one inoculate you for their own conveniences. There is no humanity before that which starts with yourself. ‘‘Charity begins at home.’’ First to thyself be true, and ‘‘thou canst not then be false to any man.’’ WE ARE ARBITERS OF OUR OWN DESTINY God and Nature ﬁrst made us what we are, and then out of our own creative genius we make ourselves what we want to be. Follow always that great law. Let the sky and God be our limit, and Eternity our measurement. There is no height to which we cannot climb by using the active intelligence of our own minds. Mind creates, and as much as we desire in Nature we can have through the creation of our own minds. Being at present the scientiﬁcally weaker race, you shall treat others only as they treat you; but in your homes and everywhere possible you must teach the higher development of science to your children; and be sure to develop a race of scientists par excellence, for in science and religion lies our only hope to withstand the evil designs of modern materialism. Never forget your God. Remember, we live, work and pray for the establishing of a great and binding RACIAL HIERARCHY, the rounding of a RACIAL EMPIRE whose only natural, spiritual and political limits shall be God and ‘‘Africa, at home and abroad.’’ Source: Editorial, Negro World, 1925. Copyright C 1995–2008 The Marcus Garvey and UNIA Papers Project, UCLA.

84. A Piece of Saw, May 1929 THEODORE LEDYARD BROWNE DeWitt Clinton High School in the Bronx, New York, had over 10,000 students in the 1930s. Over the years, this New York City school produced more than its share of writers and artists, many of whom were ﬁrst published in The Magpie, the school’s literary magazine. One of these esteemed writers was James Baldwin, who wrote at least fourteen short stories for the magazine. His work was published along with the poetry and prose of many others who, together, told the wider story of life during the depression years in America. These students included photographer Richard Avedon, ﬁlm critic Stanley Kauffmann, cultural critic Robert Warshow, and cartoonists Teddy Shearer and Mel Casson. The inﬂuence of the Harlem Renaissance can also be found in illustrations by Robert Blackburn used in The Magpie and in the writing of Theodore Browne, who later became a writer, actor, and director for the Negro Theatre of the Work Progress Administration’s Federal Theatre Project. Browne was a student at DeWitt Clinton High School in New York and a regular contributor to ‘‘The

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Magpie,’’ the literary magazine of the legendary school in the Bronx. This piece appeared in the magazine in 1929. The ‘‘Deep Evening’’ poolroom pulsated with its usual gathering of factory hands, mill owners and low characters. It was six o’clock. Amid the stench of tobacco smoke and body odor, black men played pool, shot crap, argued and frequently came to blows. In a corner near the bootblack stand, Candy had isolated himself from the rest of the crowd and was absorbed in watching a game of pool, when he was suddenly slapped on the back. Turning around, he met the broad grin of Shorty Stevens, whom he had met that morning after his release from jail. ‘‘You’se a conﬁdenshul friend of mine, Candy,’’ he said slowly, ‘‘en lemme tell yuh something right now. Take a fool’s advice, boy, and keep yo eyes glued on Buck Gardner.’’ At the mention of Buck’s name, Candy’s oily, black face hardened into an ugly scowl. To him no name was more odious than Buck Gardner’s. ‘‘Whut de hell I car ‘bout Buck Gardner? He ain’t no more’n a meat-man lak myself. I sho ain’t ‘fraid of ‘im,’’ he declared boastfully. ‘‘Tell de truth, I ain’t afraid of no man on Gawd’s earth.’’ ‘‘T’ain’t a mattuh o’ being ‘fraid o’ nobody. I jes wanna warn yuh. While you was cooped up in jail, I’se seed Madge wid Buck several times. Dey done got mighty close since you wus away. ‘‘Madge ain’t caring nothing ‘bout ‘im,’’ said Candy, with rather half-heated attempt at a smile. She’s jes fooling ‘im long. I ain’t fraid of ‘im taking my gal. Madge’s got sense. ‘‘She ain’t ‘some-timey’ lak dese other wild-headed gals ‘round heah. I been going wid huh fuh two years; I oughta know.’’ ‘‘You caint be too sho’ bout any of ‘em, boy,’’ said Shorty skeptically. ‘‘Dese wimmen folks is pow’ful tricky. De very time you ﬁgures you’re in power, cat’s de very time she’s steading how to trick yuh.’’ Suddenly, there came a racket from the outside, a blowing of tin horns, intermingled with noisy chatter. The clangor subsided, struck up again and then a sooty, black, robust ﬁgure burst into the poolroom, garbed in red and white ginghams, with a red and white bandanna around the head. ‘‘Halloween!’’ cried Shorty. ‘‘Bless if dat ain’t ole Zack dressed up like A’nt Dinah.’’ A torrent of gay masqueraders poured into the poolroom, women dressed in men’s clothes among them. For awhile shouts and laughter ﬁlled the room. ‘‘Let’s celebrate,’’ cried Shorty fervently. ‘‘Dere’s a dance at the Elk’s Hall; let’s go!’’ Candy capitulated and they jostled their way to the street. They found the hall already thronged with drunken revelers and decided to remain outside for a while listening to the noisy jazz band. An unpleasant thought came to Candy as he stood there. He wondered why it had come to him just then. Could Madge be inside ‘‘carrying on’’ with Buck? The door opened and two besotted couples left the place. It opened a second time and Candy’s eyes settled upon Madge. She was alone. Why had he not thought of Hallowe’en before? Madge always depended upon him to take her this night. But things did not turn out as he expected. Madge ignored his stare and spitefully engaged in a talk with the door keeper. Candy, heated with jealousy, went over to Madge, took her by the arm. and to the amusement of the chubby doorkeeper, roughly drew her aside.

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Madge looked beautiful that night. She was dressed in a circus rider’s costume, the snowy whiteness of which became her bronze colored skin, and made her seem like some dark water nymph. ‘‘Whut you mean by trying to act so’dicty’ tonight?’’ he asked grufﬂy. The girl hesitated before replying. ‘‘I mought as well tell you now,’’ she said, ‘‘I’m tired of you. I lak a man who ‘puts out’ sometimes. Cain’t nobody live offern love alone nowadays. Hit’s high time you foun’ dat out.’’ For a moment, Candy was rendered speechless. He stood staring at her blankly, out of the whiteness of his big, round eyes, frozen mute by what she had told him. Finally speech came to him, but it was feeble and harsh. ‘‘Don’t I put out when I’se got hit?’’ ‘‘When you’se got hit!’’ she sneered mockingly. Anger possessed him. He clutched her bare shoulders with both hands. His piercing gaze met her unmoved one. ‘‘Whut you think I went to jail fuh?’’ ‘‘Selling likker, I reckon,’’ she answered coolly. ‘‘You reckon! You knows whut I went dare fuh—you—dam hit—fuh yo sake!’’ ‘‘Youse a lie!’’ Madge retorted hotly. ‘‘You jes wonted t’ git some easy money fuh yosef. You ain’t never gin me nothing—but a lotta hot air.’’ She struggled in vain to free her shoulders, for he held them with a vise-like grip. ‘‘You knows I tried t’ git money so you could buy dat fur coat. But I wus caught, dat’s whut, en put in jail. Now you wonts t’ disown hit.’’ He withdrew one tremblin hand and before he realized it, had struck her a blow in the face. She screamed. Then Candy felt Shorty’s hand upon his shoulder. ‘‘Leave huh ‘lone, boy. Ain’t no use getting in trouble over no woman. C’mon, let’s go home,’’ he coaxed. But Candy still held Madge while she fought to release her self. He seemed uncertain what to do. ‘‘Turn me loose!’’ she was shrieking and cursing. Finally, obeying Shorty’s entreaties, Candy released his grip, and was about to take leave when Buck appeared in the doorway. ‘‘Whut you raising de debbil fuh? Dat corn likker giving you all dat hell?’’ he inquired of Madge. He was so drunk that he could hardly stand. He did not see Candy. The latter swore wrathfully and made an effort to reach his enemy, but was restrained by a friend. Candy returned home that night, a disillusioned, beaten man, rejected and wronged by one from whom he least expected injury. It was a painful rejection. The next day, while at the poolroom he was told that some one was waiting for him outside. Leaving the game, he went to the door. ‘‘C’mon out! Don’t be ‘fraid! T’aint nobody but me, honey,’’ he heard a familiar voice say. It was Madge. ‘‘Whut you come heah to me fuh?’’ he asked. Candy had made up his mind to deal severely with Madge, to impress her with the fact that he could live content without her. But that playful smile so characteristic of her seemed to drown his severity and weaken him.

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‘‘Fuh Gawd’s sakes, man, don’t look at me lak dat!’’ she laughed, and, changing to a serious tone, she said, ‘‘Aw don’t pay whut happened last night no mind. T’wont my fault. T’wus dat bad likker made se say dem things. I don’t know whut de debbil I wus saying. Hit’s de truth! Oh, let’s forget hit, honey.’’ Madge took his big, rough hand and, squeezing it coaxingly, looked up into his face and smiled. ‘‘Lissen, baby! Wanna make some easy money?’’ ‘‘Doing whut? Stealing? Ef dat’s whut youse gotta say, you mought ez well save yo’ breath.’’ ‘‘Who said anything ‘bout stealing? Gimme time to say what I has t say. He shrugged his shoulders, making a gesture of indifference with his hands. ‘‘Go haid,’’ he told her. ‘‘Ain’t nobody stoppin’ yuh from saying. ‘‘Barton wont’s yuh t’ run his still down at Elephant’s Falls tonight and tomorrow night. Said he’d gi’ yuh sixteen dollars. He wonts de likker fuh de white folk’s fair next week. You’d betuh grab hit.’’ ‘‘Lak hell I’ll take hit. I jes came out o’ jail, en I ain’t planning no early trip back. Damn a likker job, en—’’ he was about to say ‘‘you too,’’ but he checked himself. ‘‘Furthermo’, I’m going t’ work Monday at de saw mill.’’ But Madge knew Candy’s nature too well to give up coaxing, him. ‘‘Dese cops ain’t pecking on no white man, specially ef he relays dem off. Hit’s only dese nigguh bootleggers dey grabs.’’ Won over by this second thought he became the dupe of Madge’s project. Two night’s work. Sixteen dollars. Of course he would take it. Startling news swept through the crowded poolroom the following evening and dulled the hilarity that usually infested the place. A whiskey still at Elephant’s Falls had been raided, and Candy had been caught and was now in jail. One early morning, a month later, a train of negro prisoners, single ﬁle, and linked together by a chain around each ankle, plodded alongside a wry-faced white man at whose side hung a heavy revolver. On their shoulders, the ‘‘chain gang’ carried pick axes to dig a ditch they had started. The rising of the sun from behind the hills transformed the surrounding heavens into a crudely beautiful painting, such as a gifted child artist might unconsciously have painted with his water colors. The sight was beautiful to behold, but its beauty hardly seemed to arouse the convicts. They went about their work of digging the ditch indifferent to the colorful panorama that was about them. Instead, as they broke the earth with their pickaxes, they ﬁlled the fresh, morning air with song: ‘‘Trouble, trouble I has hit all my days, Hit seems lak trouble’s Going last me to my grave. ‘‘Tell me high yallar, How long I has t’ wait? Kin I get you now, Or mus’ I hesitate?’’ But upon the face of one there was a look of suffering and worry. ‘‘I gut a lettuh from home,’’ he told the short man at his side. ‘‘Sis said muh wus bad off sick, en heah I is far way from huh. Sis said she keeps asking fuh me.’’ He

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gulped as though his grief were choking him, then shook his head remorsefully. The short man shook his head too, and looked with eyes of hopeless pity at his friend. ‘‘Huh heart’s bad-leaking heart,’’ he muttered. ‘‘Boy, I feels damn sorry fuh you. I ain’t kering bout mu self, ‘cause I ain’t gut no sick mudder t’ wurry bout. Hit’s tough! Tough! In a way, boy, I’se mighty glad dey sent me up heah. I gut even wid my nigguh. I tried t’ bust his skull open. Dirty scoundrel! I’d gi muh life t’ see you git even wid de nigguh dat framed you.’’ There was a look of astonishment on the gloomy man’s face. ‘‘Whut you mean Shorty?’’ he asked. ‘‘Who—who dat framed me?’’ ‘‘Ain’t you know who t’wus?’’ ‘‘Swear fo’ Gawd, man! Tell me! Quick, Shorty! Tell me!’’ ‘‘Buck! He’s de cause of yo’ being heah on this ‘chain gang’. He was a ‘stool pigeon’ for ole police Sargeant Brinkley. You know he ain’t nevah laked Barton, who you was working fuh. Buck know’d dat too, en got you de job, so he could frame you.’’ Candy’s eyes grew bigger. He gritted his teeth and looked about him madly, as though anticipating an escape. Looking down he saw the chain—the thing which held him from his dying mother. He cursed it under his breath. He raised his chained leg, and to his utter amazement, discovered a piece of saw used for cutting iron. He had noticed before the iron foundry nearby. He had also noticed a wooden box and pair of baby carriage wheels near the ditch. Perhaps children had gotten the saw from the trash pile in back of the foundry, and had made a toy wagon. Candy clutched the saw to his chest and a look of grave deliberation swept over his face. ‘‘Boy,’’ he said to his bewildered comrades who continued to dig at the ground to keep from attracting the guard’s attention, ‘‘de Lawd mus be wid me. He mus ‘tend fuh me t’ kill dat nigguh!’’ Off and on for three hours, Candy stole moments when the guard was not watching, to saw away his bonds. It was pains taking, scrupulous work, but at length he succeeded. Word was whispered to the other convicts to keep quiet. The ditch meandered past a big tree. He would crawl until he reached the tree, then would run quickly across the open lot to the railroad tracks, and there board a freight train. While the guard had his attention attracted by a cart and horse passing in the distance, Candy made up mind to ﬂee. Through the muddy water in the ditch, he waded until he reached the tree. He looked about carefully. The guard was still watching the cart and horse. Now he would make his way across the ﬁeld to the tracks, for he saw a train approaching in the distance. As he ran, he heard shouts behind him. Could it be that he was trapped? He became sick with fear, but dared not stop. ‘‘Halt! Halt!’’—he heard the words distinctly. There was another sound, like the discharge of a gun. Candy felt holes being bored into his head and back. Some thing hot, denser than perspiration, ran in streams down his face. He rubbed his face with his hands, looked at them. Blood! He shut both eyes tightly. Blood! Everything was blood. What on earth had happened? ‘‘Muh! Muh!’’ he shrieked. He was too weak to go further, and sank helplessly down on the grass covered earth. ‘‘Hep me! Muh! I’m dying! Some water, Muh! Quick! Oh, Gawd, have mercy! Hit’s all over!’’

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‘‘I bet he’s dead, too,’’ one of the convicts said to another. ‘‘Damn right,’’ agreed the other. ‘‘I know he is. Po’ boy, I feels fuh ‘im. En now he won’t git even wid dat hell cat en Buck.’’ Source: The Magpie, DeWitt Clinton High School literary magazine, May 1929, p.51. The New Deal Network.

85. The South Speaks, April 26, 1933 JOHN HENRY HAMMOND, JR. The nation watched in 1933 as an all-white judge and jury sentenced to death black men who had been wrongly accused of raping a white woman. The accused were members of the Scottsboro boys, nine black youth, aged twelve to twenty, accused of raping two white women in Scottsboro, Alabama. These trials were landmark cases that gained widespread national attention. This story in The Nation magazine helped to spread the story of Haywood Patterson’s death sentence throughout America. The exposure allowed many people to witness these proceedings and condemn Alabama. This kind of coverage of a Negro trial in the deep south was unprecedented. AGAIN fear has driven an Alabama jury to condemn to death one of the Scottsboro boys. It matters little how ﬂimsy the evidence was against Haywood Patterson; a white woman had accused a Negro of raping her, and in this matter a white woman’s word is law. The Scottsboro case has slowly attained world-wide publicity owing to the efforts of the International Labor Defense, which fought the case successfully before the United States Supreme Court and won a new trial in Alabama. The nine Negroes, accused of assaulting two white girl hobos on a freight train two years ago, were granted a change of venue from seething Scottsboro to the comparatively peaceful town of Decatur, seventy miles away. The defense made the best possible ﬁght, but it was hopeless from the start. The boys could hardly have had an abler attorney than Samuel Leibowitz, with an almost perfect record of acquittals in criminal cases. Nor could they have been tried before a fairer man than Judge James E. Horton, who astounded skeptical Northerners by his tolerance and poise. But Southern prejudice was more than a match for a fair judge, lack of evidence against the Negroes, and a jury above the community’s average in intelligence. At the beginning of the trial Decatur was a quiet Alabama town, perhaps a little busier than the average. Its twenty thousand inhabitants used to ﬁnd employment in several hosiery mills and a steel and iron foundry employing something like two thousand men. The mills are running full time, with slashed wages, but the foundry is practically shut down. The town does not belong to the old South; its houses are modern and nondescript, as are its public buildings. Its upper class is not of the ‘‘aristocracy.’’ There was little bitterness evident at ﬁrst. The prevailing feeling was one of annoyance at the expense of the trial. The townsfolk were fully aware of the fact that the schools of Scottsboro and Jackson County had been shut down by the cost of the original trial and appeal. The defendants, of course, were guilty. The average Southerner ﬁrmly believes that Negroes desire above everything to have intercourse with white women. But there was little animosity shown the prisoners. They would

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be found guilty and duly executed. The penalty for rape in Alabama is anything from ten years to death. The Negro faces death. By the most adroit of maneuverings the defense forced the court to produce the secret jury rolls of Morgan County, after failing to get so much as a peep into Scottsboro’s records. To the surprise and dismay of Attorney-General Tom Knight, Judge Horton ruled that the defense had made a prima facie case that no Negroes were on the rolls; that it was up to the prosecution to prove that there were. Of course Negroes do not sit on Southern juries, nor do their names appear on panels. But the matter was never so thoroughly threshed out as in Decatur. Leibowitz collected a list of highly intelligent property-holding Negroes, most of them possessing college degrees. These men appeared in court to prove that they possessed every qualiﬁcation for jury duty under the Alabama statutes. In doing so they performed a most courageous act. Although the defense lost its motion for a mistrial on the ground that the jury panel contained no names of Negroes, it laid the base for an appeal to the federal courts. To many the choice of Samuel Leibowitz seemed a grievous error for the defense. Here, they argued, was a Northerner, a Jew, with a long record for defending gangsters and getting them off; a man who would make the worst possible impression on a Southern community. But Leibowitz is a master showman. And the court is the principal place of diversion for the Southern citizen. There were often gasps of unwilling admiration for this outsider who could outsmart their own Tom Knight. It was Leibowitz’s ﬁrst trip South. He was surprisingly ignorant of the relationship between black and white. So when he ﬁrst brought forward John Sanford of Scottsboro as a worthy applicant for jury duty, he was shocked at the treatment his witness received at the hands of the Attorney-General. After protesting twice at the bullying Sanford was receiving, he rose in a rage and shouted: ‘‘Now listen, Mr. Attorney-General, I’ve warned you twice about your treatment of my witness. For the last time now, stand back, take your ﬁnger out of his eye, and call him mister.’’ Leibowitz had the courage to do what no Southerner could have done—challenge the South’s whole jury system. Without this the case could never be appealed to the federal courts. And it is extremely doubtful if even the highest court in Alabama would set these prisoners free, no matter what the weight of evidence in their favor. Although Leibowitz took care to lay all possible bases for appeal, he was conﬁdent of an acquittal. He had never tried a case in which a frame-up was more apparent, and as he said in his initial courtroom speech at Decatur, he had full conﬁdence in the integrity and fairness of the South. His thoroughness was astonishing. He produced in court the conductor and ﬁreman of the freight train on which the attack was supposed to have taken place, witnesses who never were called at the original trial. From the railroad he obtained the exact line-up of the cars on the train and had them reproduced in miniature. He found Lester Carter, one of the white boys who accompanied the two girls on the train and provided for the defense its star witness. By competent witnesses found in Chattanooga it was possible to trace the girls’ movements the night before the fatal trip and puncture completely their sworn testimony. In the conduct of this case the International Labor Defense was making an experiment. It concentrated on the legal side of defense rather than on mass pressure. As a result, there were no traces of Communist literature in Decatur, no demonstrations, and no telegrams with demands to the judge until the lives of the defendants appeared to be in actual danger. Contrary to popular belief communism had little if anything to do with the verdict of guilty.

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There appeared to be a veritable battery of prosecutors, but Attorney-General Tom Knight did all the work. Knight is only thirty-four, the son of the Alabama Supreme Court Justice who wrote the court’s decision afﬁrming the verdict in the trials two years ago. He is a small, nervous man. Even in court he had little control of himself. His behavior was that of a small and enthusiastic child. But Tom Knight is exceptionally clever. He knows his courtroom gallery and all its prejudices. He successfully counteracted all of Leibowitz’s many plays to the jury. He is a bad crossexaminer and seems not too sure of himself, but he is well versed in legal procedure. Out of court he is quite affable and charming, ‘‘one of the boys’’ to the newspaper fraternity. During the trial he became so excited that he seldom slept more than two hours a night. Out of court he insisted that he wanted to give the defendants a scrupulously fair trial. Of course, said he, the niggers were guilty, but if Leibowitz could convince him that there had been a miscarriage of justice, then he would publicly announce his conversion and have the indictments quashed. Inside the courthouse it was a different story. He browbeat Negro witnesses with all the thoroughness of a county solicitor. When Leihowitz announced that he would prove that Victoria Price had been arrested often for adultery and lewdness, Knight cried out: ‘‘I don’t care how often you prove she was convicted as long as you can’t prove she had anything to do with niggers.’’ Knight had a match, however, in the ﬁrst defendant, Haywood Patterson. After grilling Patterson severely in an attempt to shake his story, the prosecutor ﬁnally asked in desperation: ‘‘Well, were you tried two years ago in Scottsboro?’’ ‘‘No suh,’’ said Patterson calmly, ‘‘I was framed two years ago in Scottsboro.’’ Knight’s chief assistants were Solicitor Bailey of Scottsboro and Wade Wright, a solicitor of Morgan County, who made the now-famous Jew-baiting summary to the jury. Bailey is quite without importance—hard-boiled and soft-spoken. But Wright is a huge individual, blustering and bullying, a perfect barometer of the less enlightened Decatur opinion. When he speaks his face becomes purple and he imparts his frenzy to the court hangers-on. Until Wright spoke, many of the newspapermen felt that there was an outside chance for acquittal, at least a hung jury. But Wright registered to perfection the repressed feelings and prejudices of the twelve good men. From then on the defense was helpless. Without a doubt the most unexpected element in the trial was the attitude of Judge Horton. Much has been written about him. Most of it is true. Courteous, generous, and scrupulous according to his own lights, he made an admirable presiding ofﬁcer. The defense could have had no fairer treatment from a Southerner. Judge Horton allowed the defense to introduce evidence showing that Victoria Price, the State’s star witness, was a perjurer, prostitute, and consorted with Negroes—heinous crime in the South. (In the original trials no evidence concerning the moral character of either girl was admitted.) He allowed the defense to put Negroes on the stand to refute white witnesses, and himself asked questions of witnesses which proved beneﬁcial to the case of the defendants. But this really honorable man made dubious rulings against the defense on many important points. After allowing the International Labor Defense to prove systematic exclusion of Negroes from jury duty, he denied the motion for a mistrial. He failed to stop Wade Wright’s appeal to bigotry and fear, and refused a change of venue to a more cosmopolitan environment after it had become evident that hysteria had gripped the good people of Decatur.

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Decatur was quiet when the trial began. But it was not long before latent prejudices ﬂared up. During the ﬁrst day of the actual trial a menacing band of ﬁfty came into the courthouse from Scottsboro ‘‘out of curiosity.’’ Leibowitz’s method of questioning pure Southern womanhood had aroused their resentment, and they made no bones about it. Organized mobs began to form outside of Decatur. Farmers from surrounding towns held protest meetings. Hadn’t an outsider dared to call a black man ‘‘mister’’ in court and demanded that the Attorney-General do the same? Wasn’t the defense advocating racial equality, and wasn’t there danger of these Northerners arousing the niggers? The effect of the trial on the three thousand Negroes of Decatur was enlightening. At ﬁrst there was no appreciable difference in behavior. But after the most respectable members of their community—doctors, Sunday-school teachers, school principals, ministers, and storekeepers—got up in court to show that they were the equals of whites, the working Negro acquired conﬁdence. Faces which had been expressionless in the courtroom took on smiles, and a few whispered exclamations were to be heard when Leibowitz made a point. Decatur whites took notice of this. In no time at all the local hardware stores were completely sold out of guns and ammunition, and they were not selling to Negroes. No one entered ‘‘niggertown’’ without some kind of weapon. The black folk were also taking due precautions. At ﬁrst it was hard for these colored people to believe that a ﬁght was being waged for them. But when they saw the defense treat Negroes as equals in court they were convinced. Alabama’s Negroes are not the only ones aroused. Colored people throughout the land who have been determinedly apathetic to the appeals of the I. L. D. and the Communists are thoroughly enraged by the verdict. In Harlem, Baltimore, Richmond, Virginia, Washington, Chicago, and scores of other cities real protest meetings are being held. The churches are stepping up as never before; collections are being taken for the defense of the prisoners. Theaters and dance halls arc staging beneﬁts; newspapers are formulating plans for a protest march of 50,000 to Washington. The South has only to repeat the verdicts in the cases of the other boys to ﬁnd the Negroes organizing into militant groups. During the second day of the trial one of my neighbors in court began to talk to me. After learning that I was a correspondent from the North he introduced himself as a merchant who had been born and bred in Decatur. He asked me what I thought of the trial. I told him that Judge Horton seemed one of the fairest jurists I had ever encountered. ‘‘This judge here is a ﬁne man,’’ he said, ‘‘but he’s prejudiced. All of us Southerners is prejudiced. You know, I’m beginning to think that those niggers was framed. That girl Victoria made a bad impression. But that doctor [Dr. Bridges of Scottsboro, who testiﬁed that he had examined the girls less than two hours after the alleged attack, had found their pulse and temperature normal, and could detect no sign of hysteria] sure cinched the case for them niggers.’’ He turned around and asked his friends in the row behind what they thought. All seven of them were convinced that there was something wrong somewhere. Two of the more daring also ventured the opinion that it looked like a frame-up. But all this was before the prosecution made its ﬁnal successful appeal to the passions and fears of the jury. Source: The Nation, Vol. 135, No. 3538, p.465. April 26, 1933. The New Deal Network.

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86. The Pullman Porters Win, August 21, 1935 EDWARD BERMAN Working-class Negroes won a decisive victory on July 1, 1935, when the National Mediation Board certiﬁed the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters, the ﬁrst allblack union, as the duly authorized representative of the porters and maids employed by the Pullman Company. ‘‘Pullman Porters Win’’ was the headline in The Nation on August 21, 1935. Working-class Negroes won a decisive victory on July 1 when the National Mediation Board certiﬁed the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters as the duly authorized representative of the porters and maids employed by the Pullman Company. This certiﬁcation and the election which preceded it were the climax in a courageous struggle for labor organization and collective bargaining which has been carried on for more than a decade against great odds. Aggressive attempts to organize the Pullman porters in an independent union attracted public attention about 1920. Toward the end of that year the Pullman Company countered with the usual device of company unionism. From that time on the efforts of the porters to make the employee-representation scheme function effectively in the workers’ interest or to organize an independent union were met by the whole barrage of opposition which employers developed so effectively in the decade of the twenties. In February, 1921, the company established its Pullman Porters’ Beneﬁt Association to provide sickness, incapacity, and death beneﬁts. As early as 1914 it had put into effect a pension plan for aged employees. In February, 1926, it introduced an employee stock-ownership plan. It also put into operation an extensive scheme of welfare work, with a newspaper for employees, as well as workers’ choruses, bands and orchestras. The porters and their leaders at ﬁrst attempted to use these devices for the purpose of improving the lot of the workers. The company countered by employing spies and discharging porters who were too active in the interest of their fellows. The leaders ﬁnally realized that the condition of the workers could be improved only by organizing an absolutely independent union not subject to the inﬂuence of the Pullman Company, and on August 25, 1925, steps were taken to establish the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters. Its ofﬁcers, with one exception, were porters of long standing in the company’s service. They gave up their jobs to become leaders of the union or were soon discharged for their activities. The one exception was A. Philip Randolph, a prominent publicist and leader among Negroes. Since 1925 all the ofﬁcers have stayed with the organization, generally without salaries of any kind, eking out an often precarious living for themselves and their families by engaging in various small business enterprises. The organization of the independent union led to increased opposition by the Pullman Company. Spying became more intense and effective, and discharges of active unionists became common. Porters many years in the service found themselves let out for reasons which were mere subterfuges. It came to be worth a man’s job to show an active interest in the new union. Yet hundreds of porters continued to pay dues and to attend meetings. In 1926 the union tried unsuccessfully to get consideration from the Interstate Commerce Commission on the question of wages. From 1930 to the beginning of

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1934 it attempted with equal lack of success to get an injunction against the company under the terms of the Railway Labor Act of 1926. Meanwhile in 1933 the Railway Emergency Act had been passed. Among its provisions was one which had the effect of outlawing the company unions. Unfortunately, however, whether by oversight or otherwise, the act made no reference to the Pullman Company or to the express companies. In the autumn of 1933 the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters began a campaign of publicity to have the Pullman Company brought within the scope of the act. With the aid of Coordinator Eastman, who included proposals to this effect in his recommendations to Congress, an act was passed in June, 1934, correcting the defects in the previous legislation. The porters could now appeal to the National Mediation Board for the right to be recognized as the ofﬁcial agency of the porters for the purposes of collective bargaining. In preparation for the test it knew was coming, the Pullman Company, in October, 1934, reorganized its company union. The grosser forms of company inﬂuence were not so apparent in the new constitution. Presumably the organization was to be ﬁnanced exclusively by the employees themselves, but it was speciﬁed that its ofﬁcers should be employees of the company. The ﬁght between the new company union and the Brotherhood to secure ofﬁcial recognition from the National Mediation Board began late in 1934. At the direction of the board an election to enable the porters and maids to express their preference was conducted from May 27 to June 27. It resulted in an overwhelming victory for the Brotherhood. Of a total of 8,316 eligible votes, the Brotherhood captured 5,931 and the company union only 1,422. In only three cities, Louisville, Memphis, and Atlanta, did the company union receive a majority of the eligible votes. The Brotherhood won majorities in 25 cities; it also received the overwhelming majority of votes cast by mail. The Brotherhood has already taken steps to initiate negotiations with the Pullman Company. The real fruits of victory will not be realized until a collective agreement is secured, but the chances for such an agreement are excellent. The reason for the porters’ long and determined ﬁght for an independent union is to be found of course in wages that are unbelievably low and conditions of work that most unskilled white workers would consider intolerable. The Pullman porter is regarded as an aristocrat by the workers of his race. The Pullman Company itself not only depends upon him to furnish courteous and efﬁcient service to its patrons, but frankly acknowledges that the opinion which the traveling public has of the Pullman service largely depends upon him. It imposes upon him an enormous variety of tasks, skilled and unskilled; and the traveling public knows how well he performs those tasks. It is one of the ironies of the status of the Negro in American life, however, that the Pullman porter is one of the worst-exploited workers in the country. A survey covering the year from March, 1934, to February, 1935, shows that the annual income of all porters covered by the sample investigation was $880. Porters on regular assignment received in that year $1,056, while those on extra service received $624. (Since extra porters must constantly hold themselves in readiness for duty, they have no opportunity to earn additional income.) This income was received only in part from the company. The average wage received by all porters directly from the company was $879; the sum of $237 was received in tips, but $236 was spent for occupational expenses. The weekly income of all porters covered in the

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survey was only $16.92, that of porters on regular assignment $20.30, and that of extra porters only $12. Obviously the common impression that porters get large sums in tips is erroneous. Some do, but on the average the amount is about offset by the sum which goes for occupational expenses. The status of the porter is well indicated by the nature and extent of these expenses. He is compelled to furnish his own brushes and shoe-polishing materials. He must pay for his uniforms until he has been in service for ten years. He must eat his meals from the dining car, paying half price for what he gets—and the middle-class American of small income knows that even half-price on a Pullman diner is too much. Moreover, he must sleep at night in the smoking compartment of his car unless a certain upper berth near that compartment happens to be vacant. He does not retire until the occupants of the smoking compartment go to bed. He is subject to call at every moment of the day or night while on service. As against an average weekly income for the porters of $16.02, the average wage of all workers in manufacturing industries in the United States in 1934 was $19.12, in New York State $23.19, in Illinois $20.50, and in Wisconsin $18.29. Against the porters’ annual average income of $880 may be set the ‘‘minimum comfort budget’’ calculated by Professor Ogburn for the War Labor Board for a family of ﬁve, which would have cost $1,516 in 1934. Against it may also be set the ‘‘minimum American standard budget’’ for a family of four established by an employers’ organization, the National Industrial Conference Board. In a small city such as Marion, Ohio, this would have cost $1,129 in 1934. In New York City (and it should be remembered that most porters live in large cities) it would have cost $1,299. But this is not the whole story. Hours of service are barbarously long. The porters are paid on a mileage basis, the basic wage being earned when they have traveled 11,000 miles per month. But they work before and after the trains get into motion, and for this ‘‘preparatory’’ and ‘‘terminal’’ time, as it is called, they get no pay. A survey made at the beginning of the present year indicates that on regular runs the porters put in an average of 9.2 percent of their working time in getting cars ready for occupancy and receiving passengers, and 3.5 per cent in arranging cars after the train has arrived at its terminal. These hours of service are required by the company. Not infrequently, more than the stated time is required after a car has reached the terminal. The variations among individual porters are great. Some put in more than 50 per cent of all their service in the form of preparatory and terminal time. For example, there was the case of a porter required to put in 14 hours and 52 minutes of preparatory time and 3 hours and 5 minutes of terminal time out of a total service period per round trip of 26 hours and 30 minutes. Such cases are not uncommon. The important point is that an average of 12.7 per cent of all the time the porters spend in service is not paid for. Investigation shows that in 1934 porters on regular runs worked an average of 317 hours per month, or over 73 hours per week. Contrast this ﬁgure with the fact that in the year 1934 workers in all manufacturing industries in the United States averaged just under 35 hours per week. The average net income for porters on regular assignment for the year from March, 1934, to February, 1935, was 27.8 cents an hour. In 1934 workers in all manufacturing industries received an average of 54.8 cents; and workers on federal public works projects, 57.8 cents per hour. Here then is a group of skilled workers receiving an average annual income of $880, an average weekly income of $16.92, and an working hourly income, if they work regularly, of 27.8 cents. While many hundreds of thousands of their fellow-

87. Deadhead: A Pullman Porter Steps Out of Character, August 1935 433

workers remain partly or wholly unemployed, they work 317 hours per month under conditions which are little short of disgraceful They work, moreover, for a company which has consistently made large proﬁts. After many years of struggle and persistent devotion, the porters have succeeded in obtaining recognition of their union. It marks a most important step in their ﬁght for decent working conditions. Their victory should give courage to the Negro working class. Source: The Nation, Vol. 141, No. 3659, p. 217. August 21, 1935. The New Deal Network.

87. Deadhead: A Pullman Porter Steps Out of Character, August 1935 JESSIE CARTER A union of Negro trainmen eventually became the force behind the creation of the ﬁrst Negro union in the United States, the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters. These men worked long shifts catering to passengers of railroads that carted long trains ﬁtted with sleeping cars built and maintained by the Pullman company. From coast to coast, passengers generically referred to these porters all by a single name. They were called ‘‘George,’’ a term that was used to describe all porters by white passengers, made these valets on wheels invisible in a country where discrimination and racism were widespread. This story in Opportunity Magazine tells the story of one man who helped organize that union. SILENT Bumbry was a Pullman porter who operated a sleeping car out of the New York Central district when Richtmyer was Superintendent of the Pullman Company in that district. Bumbry was the prototype employee usually seen complementing the Pullman exhibits in metropolitan terminals—tall, of angular frame, high cheek-boned and the color of boiled coffee. The most complete account that any one of his fellow workers could have given about Bumbry was hearsay; for he walked from the subway, swinging in a deliberate long stride to the yards. No one knew him well; none had been to his home, many doubted that he had a home because they concluded that he must be a bachelor because he still wore the ﬁrst suit of clothes he had ever purchased, or its pattern and ravels belied its chronological conception. They also guessed that Bumbry was from the South originally because he elongated his vowels and elided his consonants in speaking. When he left the yards, they watched the subway swallow him from whence he emerged placidly when he reported for his next regular run. The porters liked Silent, and they supposed that the ofﬁcials liked him for they had never heard of a single insubordination, nor noted an infrequent absence due to a book suspension; nor had they ever seen his name on the board or in the order book. He was their most frequent personnel topic for discussion, but each admired, yea, coveted Bumbry’s solitude so they endearingly named him, not without admiration, Silent Bumbry. The speculation about Bumbry increased when organization came to the Pullman porter group in the early twenties, for on one hand was Simmon’s inside Employee Representation Plan, sponsored and maintained by the Company; on the other was Randolph’s outside Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters, a bona ﬁde trade union afﬁliated with the American Federation of Labor.

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All about the Pullman quarters and ‘‘sign-out’’ windows fell subtle suspicion, thick as train smoke and silence as heavy as seasonal runs. He who had formerly been a comrade in endeavor, had he at any time said, ‘‘If you want to ride this train, vote annually under and for the Employee Representation Plan’’ was blackballed as a stool pigeon, Uncle Tom or a handkerchief head; but should he query ‘‘Service or Servitude?’’ he was proscripted to the ranks of the predamned as an ingrate, a radical, or agitator. Which side of the fence? was the implied inﬂection in the most casual conversation, Which side of the fence? Behind the inﬂections were those less careful who openly rebelled, declaring loudly: ‘‘‘Tis us who sell John Public, George Pullman. The sleeper is useless without the porter—we are the magic touch of labor which transforms any material into a saleable commodity. Fight or Be Slaves.’’ The other group advocated, ‘‘Don’t bite the hand that’s feeding you.’’ Or ‘‘Work for either the Brotherhood or the Pullman Company.’’ Less silently, less subtly, the Pullman management overlords and underlords were ﬁring over ﬁve hundred men for ‘‘monkeying’’ with outside union afﬁliation, ﬁring them without recourse to hearing or ﬁring them technically by suspending them until that day when they should come back whimpering, kneeling their way to tell the superintendent that they had seen the light at last, which pantomime would take place on the historically warped economic structure of race and bread … black man … fewer jobs … last hired, ﬁrst ﬁred … black skin … Fight or be slaves.… Employee Representation Plan … John Brown’s Body, or did John Brown live in the days of Pullman Cars … hunger is contagious and my family is mighty susceptible.… Simmons … job … bread … For Whom are you working? … violated seniority … preparatory time … Randolph … good porter … black skin, aw, what the hell! Silent’s name was on the black board and in the order book when his train pulled into the yards from the West one golden autumn day and the porters looked knowingly at each other and shuddered. They spoke not a word to each other, but knew that the superintendent would at last ferret through Silent’s coveted complacency. He would be, in no uncertain rhetorical questioning, asked for whom he was working. Order for Bumbry could mean nothing else, since he was adjudged too slow to be curt and too naive to be suspicious. The mystery around Bumbry grew more intricate as he took the subway uptown for the Superintendent’s ofﬁce, for although he had never been seen to vote for the Plan of Employee Representation, he had never been heard chanting that infectious quartette, ‘‘Fight or Be Slaves.’’ When Bumbry reported to the Pullman Company’s ofﬁces, the pale, fragileappearing blonde switchboard operator in the tight yellow blouse asked him what he wanted. ‘‘Nothing,’’ said Bumbry and he shrugged his shoulders. ‘‘Who do you want a see?’’ ‘‘Who me? No one.’’ ‘‘Well, whatcha here for?’’ ‘‘Mr. Richtmyer wants to see me.’’ ‘‘Oh, well, sit down, Porter. Sit down and wait.’’ Bumbry waited. He waited thirty-ﬁve minutes by the ofﬁce clock on the exceedingly hard bench reserved impartially by the Company for its porters, whether faithful Company men or radical union agitators. Then she told him, ‘‘You can go in now.’’ Silently, awkwardly, Bumbry entered the Superintendent’s ofﬁce, deferentially twisting his misshapen hat and walking on tiptoe lest he interrupt the

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Superintendent who seemed to be busy with the scattered diagrams on his mahogany desk. After a few fog-heavy seconds Richtmyer looked up from the technical diagrams, acknowledged Silent’s presence with a curt nod, then returned his eyes to the diagrams before him and began to mumble the copyrighted, periodically aired, safety lecture phrases about The Pullman Family. ‘‘You have been a good porter, Bumbry, considered by the management as one of the most reliable and congenial members of the Pullman Family in this district. As you know, there are more Negroes in The Pullman Service than in any other unit of industry in this chosen land, the United States of America; and truly it is a land of unexplored wealth and resource. This Company took your forefathers directly from slavery, illiterate and untaught, and has given them work, and the means wherewith to buy food, clothing and excellent shelter. It, The Company, is training this select group of workers into a school of thought that will make your children worthy of citizenship in the greatest republic on earth. And with what shall you repay the Pullman Company? Service is not enough. There must be loyalty.’’ As Richtmyer talked, his voice rising chromatically in a faulty crescendo, Bumbry punctured the monologue with a shift of the already battered hat in his angular hands. When he reached the psychological volume and pitch, Richtmyer yelled: ‘‘Porter, are you a member of this Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters?’’ Bumbry shifted, then waited for the echo to die down in the silver pitcher marked Pullman on the table beside the massive, mahogany desk. Then he whispered in a half halting legato, a pitchless nasal tone: ‘‘Mr. Richtmyer, Sir, do you belong to the Roman Catholic Church? The Masons? The Child Welfare Society, The Metropolitan Life Insurance Company, the Book of the Month Club, the Animal-’’ ‘‘Porter, you’re out of place and insubordinate. Have you forgotten that I am district superintendent of the Pullman Company? Why—why it’s none of your business just what I belong to !’’ ‘‘No sir, Mr. Richtmyer, I ain’t forgot what you are, but your answer is exactly the same one I was going to give to the question you put to me!’’ ‘‘What answer?’’ ‘‘That it ain’t your business what I belong to, neither.’’ Bumbry turned to leave. He walked slowly as if respectful of the high ofﬁce; but the superintendent would not accept defeat at the hands of a dark menial so easily. He jumped to his feet and yelled in a voice like a trumpet: ‘‘Now, Porter, I want you to be careful, do you understand!’’ Bumbry turned, knowing that the questioning was not yet over, but fully aware that everything he uttered would be used against him. He then spoke in a voice more moderately thin than his previous one, shaking his head slowly from side to side: ‘‘Mr. Superintendent of the Pullman Company, I got nothing to be careful for. I own enough houses in Brooklyn.’’ Bumbry quietly opened the ofﬁce door and walked evenly through the main ofﬁce, thinking back to those days in the oppressive South when some white folks had offered to buy his rock-strewn, infertile farm because they had discovered on it the graves of their ancestors, and they weren’t particular about having niggers owning their ﬂesh and blood. He thought of the then fabulous sum of money they had paid for their contempt of dark skin, then turned his thoughts to the snug row of houses in Brooklyn. Inwardly, he laughed at the impudence of the Superintendent

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who had pried in vain, and as he passed the mourner’s bench with the half anxious, half deﬁant porters waiting to be admitted to the ofﬁce, he felt inside his pocket and caressed with his long, angular ﬁngers the membership card of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters. Source: Opportunity, Journal of Negro Life, Vol. 13, No. 8, p. 242. August, 1935. National Urban League. The New Deal Network.

88. September Ghost Town—Almost: The Depression Hits a Negro Town, September 1935 ISABEL M. THOMPSON AND LOUISE T. CLARKE Opportunity magazine, launched by the National Urban League, became the voice of a Negro population of migrants in the 1930s. By the early years of the twentieth century, millions of Negroes had begun migrating away from the rural south and created new lives for themselves in cities across America. This was particularly true in midwestern cities such as Detroit and Chicago. While mainstream publications occasionally covered issues relevant to this migrant population, publications like Opportunity and The Crisis, the publications started by the National Association of Colored People, were founded to cover racial issues. Opportunity covered a town called Nicodemus to clear up a myth that Nicodemus only existed in the minds of storytellers during the depression years. What is Nicodemus? Myth or a reality?’’ The social-worker pondered this, as she viewed the report from the little town. ‘‘Population-76; number on relief-72’’—these were the ﬁgures. What of the stories that had ﬂourished, concerning this all-Negro town—the only one of its kind ever established in the State of Kansas? Nicodemus! With all city government, churches, schools, banks, businesses controlled by Negroes. Nicodemus! With its valuable wheat lands. Nicodemus! Whose citizens were so inﬂuential in the state political organization.… Had this ever been fact? Was any of it true of the present-day town? As the social-worker made her decision to visit Nicodemus, she was grateful for the new position that was enabling her to study past and present conditions in her native state. Days later, she was viewing an almost-deserted village. There were three small stone buildings: a church, a hall, and a store, the latter very small and meagerly stocked. (Practically all marketing and trading are carried on at Bogue, about six miles distant.) The small frame buildings that could be seen were sadly in need of repair.… ‘‘Perhaps,’’ thought the social-worker, ‘‘there has been gross exaggeration concerning the history of this town.’’ But, someone was stating facts now—facts that were corroborated by dependable sources by black type in newspapers, by ofﬁcial records, by pictures, and by the living word of old-timers.… The desolate, weedgrown settlement receded, and live, hopeful ﬁgures marched before her. Nineteen thirty-ﬁve became eighteen seventy-six. Eighteen seventy-six! The Negro population in the South is extremely restless. The Reconstruction Period, following the War Between the States, has failed to

88. September Ghost Town—Almost

bring them the freedom, equality, and prosperity so long anticipated. They are poverty-stricken, debt-ridden, starving. Many have already left for the North. Many times that many are hesitating—wanting to go, but fearing the perils of unknown country. Families in the backwoods of Kentucky and Tennessee listen eagerly to the tales of one W. R. Hill who describes a sparsely settled territory with abundant wild game and wild horses that can be easily tamed. But sweetest of all to the ears of former slaves is the statement that they can become land-owners through the homesteading process. Hill, originally from Covington, Indiana, has already taken three Negro men—Zack Fletcher, the Reverend Roundtree, and another named Smith— to a location in northwestern Kansas. Fifteen miles from Hill City, these men have established claims and made temporary quarters in dugouts. (The town Nicodemus was later built here.) Hill’s words have ﬁnally stirred some to action, and three-hundred eight tickets have been purchased to transport families to Ellis, Kansas, the nearest railroad point to the desired location. There are ﬁfty-ﬁve miles farther to go! The serious problem of transportation confronts these penniless settlers who have only faith to sustain them. But independence is a prize worthy of struggle, and in September, 1877, they have reached the site. Within a month, the ﬁrst Negro child is born in Graham County. The social-worker shivered, as she learned of the adverse weather conditions, the privation and disappointment experienced by these pioneers newly-arrived from a warm, sunny land. She could almost hear a banjo strumming ‘‘My Old Kentucky Home,’’ while a Kansas wind howled. She could see the founders of Nicodemus ﬂinching, as, one by one, the myths of ‘‘milk and honey’’ were exploded. But these people stayed! And with spring came new hope, as they began the task of bringing a yield from the soil. Another colony came from the South, and the local government, headed by ‘‘President’’ Smith, was established. For several years there was a steady inﬂux of southerners, while the settlers were troubled by lack of funds for clothing and supplies and by a disastrous grasshopper plague. Through the efforts of the minister, contributions of money and clothing were obtained from the East. As for the plague—it could only be observed and regretted. No one returned to the South, however! By eighteen-eighty, there were ﬁve hundred inhabitants in Nicodemus, which boasted a bank, two hotels, a newspaper, drug store, a number of ‘‘general stores,’’ and several other business houses. An area of twelve square miles was being cultivated. Now the settlers knew that the extension of a railroad to Nicodemus from Stockton, Kansas, would be an important step in the growth of the all-Negro town. Yet, when the offer was made, there was a disagreement concerning ﬁnancial compensation; the railway company withdrew its offer and established Bogue, Kansas, as the nearest station. This left Nicodemus as an inland village and stopped the steady growth in population. However, the state-wide political inﬂuence of the town ﬂourished. Ed McKabe, a Negro land agent, took the ﬁrst census, was later elected county clerk, and was ﬁnally sent to the capital to be the ﬁrst Negro State Auditor of Kansas. The founding of Nicodemus seems well worthwhile when one learns that more Negroes have been elected to county ofﬁces in Graham County than in all of the other one-hundred four Kansas counties combined. Some of these men were: John DePrad, a pioneer

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who was county clerk; J. R. Hawkins, court clerk; J. E. Porter, court clerk; G. W. Jones, county clerk and district attorney; Dan Hickman, chairman of the board of county commissioners; W. L. Sayers, county attorney; John Q. Sayers, county attorney. The two Sayers brothers are now practicing attorneys in Hill City. In 1928, the farmers of Nicodemus were cultivating from ﬁfty to one thousand acres each. When the seasons were favorable, the lands frequently yielded more value in wheat than the actual sale value of the land. Everyone knows what happened to business in 1929, and what subsequently happened to the farmer’s prices. Almost all of the young people left Nicodemus during the ﬁnancial upheaval. Further, nature has given a freak side-show of weather conditions in Western Kansas. Droughts of 1932, 1933, and 1934 were followed by destructive dust storms in the late winter and early spring of 1935. Entire families deserted this unproductive region. ‘‘What is Nicodemus? And what has happened to it?’’ The social worker need ask these questions no longer. What will happen to Nicodemus? Late spring and early summer rains were heavy in Kansas, and may help to repair some crop damage. Will favorable weather conditions deﬁnitely improve the ﬁnancial status and revive interest in the town? Will the political inﬂuence of Nicodemus’ citizens be maintained, lost, or increased? Will a railroad company ever again consider extending its lines to Kansas’ all-Negro town? The social worker wonders. Source: Opportunity, Journal of Negro Life, Vol. 13, No. 9, p. 277. September, 1935. National Urban League. The New Deal Network.

89. Harlem: Dark Weather-Vane, August 1936 ALAIN LOCKE In 1925, Survey Graphic magazine announced the arrival of a ‘‘new Negro’’ and the onset of a ‘‘Negro renaissance’’ in Harlem. Eleven years later, that same Harlem, like the rest of America, was in the grip of the depression; moreover, Harlem was in the throes of social unrest that erupted in the Harlem riot of 1935. Scholar Alain Locke, sometimes referred to as the father of the Harlem Renaissance, said that the renaissance and the riot indicated a serious relapse and a premature setback in racial progress. In a special issue of Survey Graphic, he tells the story about the hard times in Harlem. Just eleven brief years ago Harlem was full of the thrill and ferment of sudden progress and prosperity; and Survey Graphic sounded the tocsin of the emergence of a ‘‘new Negro’’ and the onset of a ‘‘Negro renaissance.’’ Today, we confront the sobering facts of a serious relapse and premature setback; indeed, ﬁnd it hard to believe that the rosy enthusiasms and hopes of 1925 were more than bright illusions or a cruelly deceptive mirage. Yet after all there was a renaissance, with its poetic spurt of cultural and spiritual advance, vital with signiﬁcant but uneven accomplishments; what we face in Harlem today is the ﬁrst scene of the next act—the prosy ordeal of the reformation with its stubborn tasks of economic reconstruction and social and civic reform. Curtain-raiser to the reformation was the Harlem riot of March 19 and 20, 1935; variously diagnosed as a depression spasm, a Ghetto mutiny, a radical plot and dress

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rehearsal of proletarian revolution. Whichever it was, like a revealing ﬂash of lightning it etched on the public mind another Harlem than the bright surface Harlem of the night clubs, cabaret tours and arty magazines, a Harlem that the social worker knew all along but had not been able to dramatize—a Harlem, too, that the radical press and street-corner orator had been pointing out but in all too incredible exaggerations and none too convincing shouts. In the perspective of time, especially if the situation is handled constructively, we shall be grateful for that lightning-ﬂash which brought the ﬁrst vivid realization of the actual predicament of the mass life in Harlem and for the echoing after-peals of thunder that have since broken our placid silence and Pollyanna complacency about it. For no cultural advance is safe without some sound economic underpinning, the foundation of a decent and reasonably secure average standard of living; and no emerging elite—artistic, professional or mercantile—can suspend itself in thin air over the abyss of a mass of unemployed stranded in an over-expensive, disease- and crime-ridden slum. It is easier to dally over black Bohemia or revel in the hardy survivals of Negro art and culture than to contemplate this dark Harlem of semi-starvation, mass exploitation and seething unrest. But turn we must. For there is no cure or saving magic in poetry and art, an emerging generation of talent, or in international prestige and interracial recognition, for unemployment or precarious marginal employment, for high rents, high mortality rates, civic neglect, capitalistic exploitation on the one hand and radical exploitation on the other. Yet for some years now Harlem has been subject to all this deep undertow as against the surface advance of the few bright years of prosperity. Today instead of applause and publicity, Harlem needs constructive social care, fundamental community development and planning, and above all statesman-like civic handling. Immediately after the March riot, Mayor La Guardia appointed a representative bi-racial Commission of Investigation, headed by an esteemed Negro citizen, Dr. Charles H. Roberts. After 21 public and 4 closed hearings conducted with strategic liberality by Arthur Garﬁeld Hays, and nearly a year’s investigation by subcommissions on Health and Hospitalization, Housing, Crime and Delinquency and Police, Schools, the Social Services and Relief Agencies, a general report has been assembled under the direction of E. Franklin Frazier, professor of sociology at Howard University, which was ﬁled with the Mayor March 31, 1936, just a few days after the ﬁrst anniversary of the riots. A preliminary section on the causes of the riot has been published, and several other sections have found their way to publication, some regrettably in garbled form. The public awaits the full and ofﬁcial publication of what is, without doubt, an important document on the present state of Harlem. When published, the ﬁndings will shock the general public and all but the few social experts already familiar with the grave economic need and social adjustment in Harlem and the inadequacies of short-sighted provisions in basic civic facilities of schools, hospitals, health centers, housing control and the like, a legacy of neglect from the venal, happy-go-lucky days of Tammany-controlled city government. Now with a socially-minded city and national government the prospects of Negro Harlem—and for that matter all handicapped sections—are inﬁnitely brighter. But there is evidence that the present city administration is losing no time in acting to improve the Harlem situation; partly no doubt upon the speciﬁc ﬁndings and recommendations of the recent investigation, but largely from previous plans, seriously delayed by lack of capital funds or federal subsidies such as are now ﬁnancing

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some of the major items of the reform program. Within recent months, in some cases weeks, Harlem’s urgent community needs have been recognized in the reconditioning of its sorely inadequate and formerly overcrowded municipal hospital, the completion and equipment of a long delayed woman’s hospital pavilion approximately doubling the bed capacity of the Harlem Hospital, the remodeling of a temporary out-patient department, and the recommendation by the Commissioner of Hospitals of a new out-patient building and of plans for a new independent hospital plant. Similarly, in the school system’s 1937 budget, two new school plants for Harlem have been incorporated. On June 20, the Mayor and the Secretary of the Interior spoke at the dedication of the foundations of the new Harlem River housing project, which will afford model housing for 574 low income families with also a nursery school, community playground, model recreation and health clinic facilities—a $4,700,000 PWA project. On June 24, the Mayor drove the last foundation piling for another PWA project, the. $240,000 district health clinic for the badly congested Central Harlem section, where the incidence of tuberculosis, social disease and infant mortality is alarmingly high, and announced the appointment of an experienced Negro physician as head ofﬁcer It has been announced that a stipulation had been incorporated in the contract speciﬁcations for these new public works that Negro skilled labor was to have its fair share of consideration. All this indicates a new and praiseworthy civic regard for Harlem welfare, contrasting sharply with previous long-standing neglect. The Commission in complaining of present conditions is careful to make plain that the present city administration has inherited most of them and that, therefore, they are not to be laid at its door. Yet they are on its doorstep, waiting immediate attention and all possible relief. The conditions are a reproach not only to previous politically minded municipal administrations but also to the apathy and lack of public-mindedness on the part of Harlem’s Negro politicians and many professional leaders who either did not know or care about the condition of the masses. Recent improvements will make some sections of the Commission’s report contrary to present fact when it appears, but few will care to cavil about that. Yet, both for the record and for the sake of comparison, the situation as the Commission found it should be known. Harlem may not be disposed to look gift horses in the mouth, though a few professional agitators may. Clearly the present administration is now aware of Harlem’s objective needs and is taking steps to meet some of them. Mayor La Guardia, speaking at the housing ceremony, said: ‘‘We cannot be expected to correct in a day the mistakes and omissions of the past ﬁfty years. But we are going places and carrying out a deﬁnite program. While the critics have been throwing stones, I have been laying bricks.’’ But admittedly the situation is still inadequately provided for even when present plans and immediate prospects are carried out; compounding the actual need is a swelling sense of grievance over past civic neglect and proscription. A long-range plan of civic improvements in low-cost housing, and slum clearance, in further hospital and health clinic facilities, recreation, library and adult education centers, auxiliary school agencies is imperatively necessary. And in certain city departments a clearer policy of fair play is needed, not so much with regard to the inclusion of Negroes in municipal posts—though that too is important—as in their consideration for executive and advisory appointments where they can constructively inﬂuence municipal policies and remedial measures for the Harlem constituency. One of the fatal gaps between good intentions and

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good performance is in this matter of local administrators, where often an executive policy ofﬁcially promulgated gets short circuited into discrimination at the point of practical application. Negroes are often accused of race chauvinism in their almost fanatical insistence upon race representatives on executive boards and in councils of policy, but the principle of this vital safeguard is of manifest importance. Especially in situations of accumulated wrong and distrust, mere practical expediency requires public assurance and reassurance. The riot itself might never have occurred had such imponderables been taken into consideration. Its immediate causes were trivial,—the theft of a ten-cent pocket-knife by a Negro lad of sixteen in Kresge’s department store on 125 Street. It was rumored that the boy had been beaten in the basement by store detectives and was gravely injured or dead; by tragic coincidence an ambulance called to treat one of the Kresge employee, whose hand the boy had bitten, seemed to conﬁrm the rumor and a hearse left temporarily outside its garage in an alley at rear of the store to corroborate this. As a matter of fact the boy had given back the stolen knife and had been released through the basement door. But it must be remembered that this store, though the bulk of its trade was with Negroes, has always discriminated against Negroes in employment. Shortly before the riot it had been the objective of a picketing campaign for the employment of Negro store clerks, had grudgingly made the concession of a few such jobs and then transferred the so-called ‘‘clerks’’ to service at the lunch counter. While the original culprit slept peacefully at home, a community of 200,000 was suddenly in the throes of serious riots through the night, with actual loss of life, many injuries to police and citizens, destruction of property, and a serious aftermath of public grievance and anger. The careful report of the Commission on this occurrence correctly places the blame far beyond the immediate precipitating incidents. It was not the unfortunate rumors, but the state of mind on which they fell; not the inﬂammatory leaﬂets issued several hours after the rioting had begun by the Young Liberators, a radical Negro defense organization, or the other broadside distributed a little later by the Young Communist League, but the sense of grievance and injustice that they could depend on touching to the quick by any recital of fresh wrong and injustice. The report ﬁnds that the outbreak was spontaneous and unpremeditated; that it was not a race riot in the sense of physical conﬂict between white and colored groups; that it was not instigated by Communists, though they sought to proﬁt by it and circulated a false and misleading leaﬂet after the riots were well underway; that the work of the police was by no means beyond criticism; and that this sudden breach of the public order was the result of a highly emotional situation among the colored people of Harlem, due in part to the nervous strain of years of unemployment and insecurity. ‘‘… Its distinguishing feature was an attack I upon property rather than persons, and resentment against whites who, while exploiting Negroes, denied them an opportunity to work.’’ The report warns of possible future recurrences, offering as the only safe remedy the deﬁnite betterment of economic and civic conditions which, until improved, make Harlem a ‘‘fertile ﬁeld for radical and other propaganda.’’ It is futile, [the report continues] to condemn the propagandists or to denounce them for ﬁshing in troubled waters. The only answer is to eliminate the evils upon which they base their arguments. The blame belongs to a society that tolerates inadequate and often wretched housing, inadequate and inefﬁcient schools and other

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public facilities, unemployment, unduly high rents, the lack of recreation grounds, discrimination in industry and the public utilities in the employment of colored people, brutality and lack of courtesy by police. As long as these conditions remain, the public order can not and will not be safe. Despite this clear diagnosis, there are those even in ofﬁcial circles who insist upon a more direct connection between Harlem’s restless temper and radical propaganda. To do so seriously misconstrues the situation by inverting the real order of cause and effect. Discrimination and injustice are the causes, not radicalism. But to neglect the symptoms, to ignore the grievances will be to spread radicalism. Violence will be an inevitable result. Eleven years ago, in the Harlem issue of Survey Graphic, the writer said: ‘‘Fundamentally, for the present, the Negro is radical only on race matters, in other words, a forced radical, a social protestant rather than a genuine radical. Yet under further pressure and injustice iconoclastic thought and motives will inevitably increase. Harlem’s quixotic radicalisms call for their ounce of democracy today lest tomorrow they be beyond cure. That statement needs underscoring today, when aspects of discrimination, chronic through the years, become acute under the extra pressure of the depression. At such a time special—perhaps even heroic—remedy becomes necessary where preventive long term treatment should and could have been the scientiﬁc course. It follows that at this stage both the basic disease and its many complications as well must be treated. Obviously both long and short term measures are indicated, from the temporary palliative that allays inﬂamed public opinion to the long range community planning which requires years for development and application. The Commission report spreads its recommendations over just such a wide range. It is particularly wise and sound, even at the risk of appearing doctrinaire, in pointing to the Negro’s economic exploitation through the employment policy of the whole community as the basic economic disease, anal to segregation as inducing the radical complications. Unlike many such reports this one does not overlook fundamentals, and in that respect renders a service of truly scientiﬁc and permanent value. It follows then that Harlem’s most acute problem is employment. Not mere job occupancy, but rather a lifting of its economic earning power through less discriminatory job distribution. A careful analysis of job categories and employment trends makes this clear and is the basis for the rather startling suggestion that the municipality grapple with the traditionally non-governmental problem of the right to work according to ability. Knowing of course that the city cannot directly control the private labor market, the report nevertheless suggests, as a long term policy, measures of indirect control. It suggests that the city enact an ordinance that no municipal contracts be given to ﬁrms or corporations that discriminate, racially or otherwise, against workers, and that in its contracts with the public utilities it make provisions and reservations which will prevent ﬂagrant labor discrimination. It further suggests that the city itself as an employer set a good example, not merely by the number of Negroes employed but by widening the range of jobs ﬁlled by Negroes. This is a particularly pointed suggestion in view of the fact that the relatively small quota of Negroes in the New York city service, 2.2 percent in 1920 had fallen to 1.4 percent in 1930, the latest ﬁgure available. The PWA housing project for Harlem sets the proper but daring precedent of specifying that the employment of less than one third skilled Negro labor will constitute prima facie evidence of discrimination, and furnish

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grounds for disciplinary action against the contractor. Revolutionary as all this may seem, it goes to the economic roots of the race issue, and boldly carries the principle of the Fourteenth Amendment into the economic ﬁeld. Typical is the report of the New York Edison Company with 65 Negroes in its employ out of 10,000 and the Fifth Avenue Coach Co. with 213 Negroes out of a total of 16,000 employee. It is such an industrial policy that brings, in the words of the report, ‘‘a certain retribution upon a community that discriminates against the Negro worker through the money it must spend upon him in the form of relief.’’ The common sense and logic of such a position become obvious when a community has to pay the indirect costs of labor discrimination in relief to the victims of insecure and marginal employment. Deﬁnite proof of this economic inequality is seen in the disproportionate number of Negroes on New York City relief rolls. Ten percent of the Negro population is on relief, over double its relative population of 4 percent. It has been further evidenced in the difﬁculties encountered by Negro workers with skilled vocational training and experience in securing work relief assignments except as unskilled laborers. Negroes did not receive their proportionate share of work relief jobs even in sections predominantly Negro, and in sections predominantly white, Negro home relief clients were not given their proportional share of referral assignments to work relief jobs. Many skilled Negro workers had either to accept places in the unskilled ranks or go back to the home relief rolls as ‘‘unemployables.’’ Of the employables in New York City on relief the year preceding the riot, 14 percent or 58,950 were Negroes. Most of the complaints of discrimination in the relief services have occurred in the work relief sections, where ﬁnally an advisory committee on Negro problems was appointed, and in the matter of personnel policies of the Emergency Relief Bureau itself. In home relief, the investigation found substantial fairness and little or no justiﬁable complaint. Negroes have been employed in the relief services at a ratio almost double their percentage in the city’s population, incidentally affording indirect evidence of the disproportionate amount of unemployment among Negroes with relatively high grade qualiﬁcations. There was some complaint, according to the report, about their slow admission to higher administration grades, especially the strategic positions of occupational clerks, a type of position vital for initiating any broader policy of labor classiﬁcation for Negro eligibles. Recently, Mayor La Guardia announced the appointment of Dr. John H. Johnson, rector of St. Martin’s Episcopal Church, as the sixth member of the Emergency Relief Bureau. Housing is the most serious special community problem of Harlem. The Negro’s labor short dollar is further clipped by the exorbitant rentals characteristic of the segregated areas where most Negroes must reside. Whereas rents should approximate 20 percent of family income, and generally tend to do so, in Harlem they average nearly double or 40 percent. Model housing does not begin to touch the real mass need either as slum clearance or low cost housing until it brings the average rental down to $5 to $7 per room per month. The Dunbar Apartments, erected some years back with Rockefeller subsidy, could not meet this need, although at the time it gave middle-class Harlem a real lift in the direction of decent housing and neighborhood conditions. The new Harlem River Houses, to be erected with federal subsidy, will be the ﬁrst model housing to reach the class that needs it most. The New York Housing Authority deserves great credit for initiation and for the principle of local Negro advice and promised Negro management which it has adopted. Harlem’s

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appreciative response was clearly evident at the recent cornerstone-laying when Secretary Ickes, Mayor La Guardia and Commissioner Langdon Post of the Tenement House Department endorsed the principle of bringing modern housing to the congested sections of Harlem. Secretary Ickes said: ‘‘The record of American housing is proof positive of one thing. Private initiative cannot, unaided, properly house our low income families. It is simply not in the cards. It can mulct unenviable proﬁts by housing our people badly; it cannot make money by housing them well.’’ That holds a fortiori for the Negro. But when the federally aided scheme has demonstrated its social and humane objectives, cut the cost of crime and juvenile delinquency, exerted its remedial inﬂuence on other negative social forces, including racial discontent, the subsidizing of still larger scale projects by the state and municipality will be wisely charged off to their proper balances in the saner bookkeeping of an intelligently social-minded community. The Commission’s subcommission on housing under Morris L. Ernst was very active in its advocacy of progressive housing legislation before the State Legislature, and considerable progress in condemning old-law tenements and in slum clearance projects is contemplated under the progressive state legislation for which the Harlem investigation housing commission was directly responsible. Health is the second great problem and disease is the second grim link in the Ghetto chain which fetters Harlem life. Central Harlem’s rate of infant mortality, tuberculosis, and venereal disease is expectedly high and in direct proportion to areas of congestion and poverty. Harlem’s hospital and health facilities were handicapped over a period of years, directly by antiquated equipment, indirectly by political and racial feuds. Regrettable differences often brought the two professional organizations of Negro physicians in Harlem into conﬂict. Although these differences were often over divergent views as to the gains and losses of segregation, or of this or that tactic in securing the admission of Negroes to staff and internes’ positions in the municipal hospitals, they were anything but conducive to the morale of Harlem Hospital or to any clear policy of the hospital authorities. It took years of agitation to get any Negroes on the staff and the governing medical board, and Negro internee were admitted to Harlem Hospital only within the last ten years. Until recently there was only one Negro on the Harlem Hospital Board, and one Negro physician of full staff rank. The situation both as to hospital facilities and staff personnel has shown material improvement recently under what promises to be a new and liberalized policy instituted by the present Commissioner of Hospitals, Dr. Goldwater. But that change was too recent to spare the Commissioner or his immediate subordinate in charge of the Harlem Hospital from adverse criticism by the Commission. Recent improvements offset some of the shocking and inadequate conditions that had existed for years. On January 2 the opening of the new women’s wing to Harlem Hospital increased its capacity from 325 to 665 beds. This pavilion, almost completed four years ago, had stood unﬁnished chieﬂy because of legal complications growing out of the failure of contractors. This relief from overcrowding, no doubt the basis for the most serious complaints as to previous maladministration, clears the way for remodeling and modernizing the older parts of the hospital, which is now proceeding under WPA grants. A new nurses’ home has recently opened; plans for a new $1,500,000 outpatient department have been drawn, and an additional entirely new hospital has been recommended as an urgent item in the impending capital outlay

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for city hospitals. In the meantime, the Department of Hospitals has, with the assistance of the WPA, modernized a two-story building on the Harlem Hospital block, which will provide more than four times the space of the old clinic. These last projects are made necessary by the fact that the recently enlarged facilities of Harlem Hospital already are approaching a crowded condition at times. Only incessant agitation brought staff appointments in municipal hospitals to Negro physicians. Recently, by a laudable departure in the direction of fairer play, ﬁve Negroes were given staff appointments to Queens’ General Hospital and one to Sea View; and in the ﬁrst six months of 1936 seven Negro physicians have been promoted from assistant to associate visiting rank, ﬁve from clinical assistants to assistant visiting rank, and seven new clinical appointments have been made. This, with three members of full attending rank and an increase of two members on the Medical Board of Harlem Hospital, represents a spectacular gain in comparison with the slow progress of former years. The Commission report, however, recommends ‘‘the admission of Negro physicians, internee and nurses to all city hospitals on merit in accordance with law, and the withholding of municipal ﬁnancial aid from any institution refusing equal treatment to Negroes.’’ With the completion of the new health unit, there will no longer be ground for the present complaint that in the two health areas where Negroes are concentrated there is ‘‘conspicuous absence of the very agencies which deal with the major problems of Negro health—infant mortality and tuberculosis.’’ Similarly, the announcement of two new school buildings for Harlem in the 1937 Board of Education program corrects in prospect the major plant deﬁciencies complained of in the Commission’s school report. It leaves for further consideration the plea for some special provisions to offset the effects of demoralized home and neighborhood conditions upon a considerable section of the Harlem school population. Primarily this is not a school function or responsibility, even though it gravely affects its work. Classes for deﬁcient and delinquent children, special vocational guidance, supervised play are recommended, and also greater protection of school children from the demoralized elements of the adjacent neighborhoods by the police department. Logically and practically, however, it is obvious that only wide-scale slum clearance will reach the roots of such conditions. One of the rare bright spots in the situation is the ﬁne policy of the New York City school system of entirely disregarding race in the appointment and assignment of Negro school teachers, which policy should point a convincing precedent to other city departments and, for that matter, to other great municipalities. No ﬁeld of municipal government is more tied in with a problem such as underlies the Harlem riots than the police department. Even at that time a spirit of general antagonism toward the police was evident, and the fatal shooting of a sixteenyear-old high school student, Lloyd Hobbes, whom the police charge with looting during the riot (a charge which several witnesses dispute), did much to aggravate the bitterness. As the report aptly says, ‘‘A policeman who kills is prosecutor, judge and executioner.’’ In fact a series of police shootings in Harlem, continuing down to two quite recent killings of children in the police pursuit of suspected criminals, has brought the community to the point of dangerous resentment toward the police. The frequent heavy mobilization of police forces in Harlem, however well based the fear or probability of public disorder and the recurrence of rioting, has the practical effect of stimulating the very thing it is meant to avert—tension,

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resentment, and disrespect for proper police authority. Every close student of the situation sympathizes with the police authorities in their difﬁcult responsibilities, especially during the strenuous campaign against the vice and small-time racketeering which are all too prevalent in Harlem. But respect for and conﬁdence in police authority are primary assets in such a housecleaning campaign, and the good-will and cooperation of the law-abiding, better class element are essential. Restored conﬁdence and good-will are particularly vital in the situation, fraught with possible racial antagonisms. Surprising and convincing reason for suspecting police brutality and intimidation is the fact that many in the Harlem community feel as much resentment toward Negro police as toward white police, and even toward the Negro police lieutenant, who sometime back was a popular hero and a proud community symbol. The Commission’s recommendations, therefore, that the police be given instructions to use greater caution and tact in emergencies and show the strictest regard for citizens’ rights, and that a bi-racial Citizens’ Public Safety Committee be appointed as an advisory body to the Police Commissioner and to hear possible complaints and grievances against undue use of police power or claims of police brutality and intimidation, are of crucial and constructive importance in a somewhat critical situation. For without restored conﬁdence and unbroken public order, Harlem’s wound will not heal. Dark as the Harlem situation has been, and in a lesser degree still is, the depression in general and the riot in particular have served a diagnostic purpose which, if heeded and turned into a program of constructive civic reform, will give us improvement and progress instead of revolution and anarchy. After all, in these days of economic crisis and reconstruction the Negro has more than racial import. As the man farthest down, he tests the pressure and explores the depths of the social and economic problem. In that sense he is not merely the man who shouldn’t be forgotten; he is the man who cannot safely be ignored. Yet, in addition, Harlem is racially signiﬁcant as the Negro’s greatest and formerly most favorable urban concentration in America. The same logic by which Harlem led the Negro renaissance dictates that it must lead the economic reconstruction and social reformation which we have been considering. There are some favorable signs from within and without that it will: from without, in terms of the promise of the new concern and constructive policy of the Mayor and a few progressive city authorities; from within, in terms of a new type and objective of Negro civic leadership. The latter is evidenced in part by the Mayor’s Harlem Commission and its sustained activities, by the ever increasing advisory committees of leading and disinterested citizens, and recently, quite signiﬁcantly, by the organization of the bi-racial All Peoples’ Party in Harlem for independent political action to ‘‘rid Harlem of the corrupt political control of the two major parties and end the tyranny of political bosses.’’ Recently 209 delegates from 89 social, civic and religious organizations organized with this objective of substituting civic organization and community welfare for political support and party spoils. A Harlem community-conscious and progressively cooperative is inﬁnitely to be preferred to a Harlem racially belligerent and distempered. Contrast the Harlem of the recent WPA art festival, gaily and hopefully celebrating in a festival of music, art and adult education, dancing in Dorrance Brooks Square, with the Harlem of the riot, a bedlam of missiles, shattered plate glass, whacking night-sticks, mounted patrols, police sirens and police bullets;

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and one can visualize the alternatives. It is to be hoped that Harlem’s dark weathervane of warning can be turned round to become a high index of constructive civic leadership and reform. Source: Survey Graphic, Vol. 25, No. 8, p. 457. August, 1936. Survey Associates, Inc.

90. Twenty-one Negro Spirituals, Americana No. 3, Recorded by So. Carolina Project Workers, Efﬁngham, South Carolina, 1937 America was plunged into the greatest economic depression in history in the early 1930s. Unemployment was widespread. In an attempt to put large numbers of Americans back to work and to raise spirits, the government launched what became commonly known as ‘‘The New Deal.’’ The federal government poured millions of tax dollars into economic relief efforts. One of these was called the Work Progress Administration (WPA). Under this umbrella, a smaller program called the Federal Writer’s Project was also started in at least 26 states. One of those projects was in South Carolina where writers interviewed residents about their daily lives. The lyrics of twenty-one Negro spirituals, ritual religious music, were recorded in Efﬁngton, South Carolina. 1 Jes’ low down de chariot right easy Right easy, right easy Jes’ low down de chariot right easy An’ bring God’s servant home Jes’ tip eround my room right easy Right easy, right easy Jes’ tip eround my room right easy And bring God’s servant home Jes’ move my pillow ‘round right easy Right easy, right easy Jes’ move my pillow ‘round right easy And bring God’s servant home Jes’ turn de cover back right easy Right easy, right easy Jes’ turn de cover back right easy And bring God’s servant home Jes’ tone de bell right easy Right easy, right easy Jes’ tone de bell right easy And bring God’s servant home

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2 God’s settin’ happy on His throne De Angel dropped his wings en moan I’m tired uv yo’ wicked ways I’m tired uv yo’ wicked ways God’s gittin’ tired uv yo’ wicked ways Go down, Angel, en bolt de do’ Dat time whut’s been shan’t be no mo’ I’m tired uv yo’ wicked ways I’m tired uv yo’ wicked ways God’s gittin’ tired uv yo’ wicked ways Walk en yo’ room en fall on yo’ knees It’s, Lord, have mercy ef you please God’s worryin’ wid yo’ wicked ways God’s worryin’ wid yo’ wicked ways God’s gittin’ worried wid yo’ wicked ways Silver shall tinkle en gold shall ruin God is gettin’ worried wid yo’ wicked coin’ God’s worryin’ wid yo’ wicked ways God’s worryin’ wid yo’ wicked ways God is gittin’ worried wid yo’ wicked ways Go to church en weep en moan Jes’ well’s ter plead as to stay at home God’s worryin’ wid yo’ wicked ways God’s worryin’ wid yo’ wicked ways God is gittin’ worried wid yo’ wicked ways

3 Oh, when I am er dyin’ I don’t want nobody to moan All I want yer to do fer me Is jes’ give dat bell a tone Den I’ll be crossin’ over I’ll be crossin’ over Den I’ll be crossin’ over Jesus gonna make up my dyin’ bed 4 If ‘ligion was a thing money could buy I ain’t gonna lay my ‘ligion down

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Well, de rich would live, en de po’ would die I ain’t gonna lay my ‘ligion down But I’m so glad God ﬁxed it so I ain’t gonna lay my ‘ligion down Dat de rich must die as well as de po’ I ain’t gonna lay my ‘ligion down Ef de rich don’t pray, to Hell dey’ll go I ain’t gonna lay my ‘ligion down En de devil gonna get ‘em, I’m pretty sho’ I ain’t gonna lay my ‘ligion down Want er know de reason I walk so bold? I ain’t gonna lay my ‘ligion down Well, I got Jesus all in my soul I ain’t gonna lay my ‘ligion down

5 Time, Time, Time is windin’ up Time, Time, Time is windin’ up Oh, destruction is dis lan’, God’s done moved His han’ En Time is windin’ up

6 Ole Satan is er liar en er conjurer too Oh, de rock er my soul Ef you don’t mind he’ll conjure you Oh, de rock er my soul Oh, rock er my soul in de bosom of Abraham Rock er my soul in de bosom of Abraham Rock er my soul in de bosom of Abraham Oh, de rock er my soul

7 Oh, come on, Elders, let’s go round de wall En hit jes’ suits me Don’t want ter stumble, don’t want ter fall En hit jes’ suits me Well, dis here religion is more’n a notion It keeps your body in er workin’ motion En hit jes suits me

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8 He’s er gamberlin’ all night long He’s er gamberlin’ till break of day He roll ‘em on de gamberlin’ ﬂoor En he throwed dem cards away Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord,

I I I I

wonders where’s wonders where’s wonders where’s wonders where’s

dat gamberlin’ man he gone dat gamberlin’ man he gone

9 Well, Death went over to dat gambler’s home ‘‘Gambler, come en go wid me Come en go wid me Come en go wid me’’ Dat Gambler said: ‘‘I’m not willin’ to go Caze I got no traverlin’ shoes’’ Well, Death went over to de preacher’s home ‘‘Preacher, come en go wid me Come en go Come en go’’ Dat preacher said: ‘‘I’m willin’ to go Caze I got on my traverlin’ shoes Got my, got my Got on my traverlin’ shoes’’ 10 When I gets to Heaven, set right down Until de war is ended Ax my Lord fer a starry crown Until de war is ended Oh, when I gets to Heaven, gonna talk en tell ‘Til de war is ended How I did shun dem gates uv Hell ‘Til de war is ended 11 Took my sin en give me grace, give me grace Took my sin en give me grace Took my sin en give me grace Took my feet out de mirin’ clay, mirin’ clay Took my feet out de mirin’ clay Took my feet out de mirin’ clay Placed dem on de rocks of eternitay, eternitay

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Oh, Jordan is so chilly en cold, chilly en cold Oh, Jordan is so chilly en cold Jordan is so chilly en cold, chilly en cold I got Jesus in my sould 12 I been in de war so long, I ain’t got tired yit I been in de war so long, I ain’t got tired yit Well, my head been wet wid de midnight dew The ‘fo’ day star was a witness too I been in de war so long en I ain’t got tired yit My knees is acquainted wid de hillside clay Ain’t got tired yit Feet placed on de rock of eternitay Ain’t got tired yit Ole Satan is mad en I am glad Ain’t got tired yit Missed a soul he thought he had En I ain’t got tired yit Oh, been in de war so long, ain’t got tired yit Oh, been in de war so long, ain’t got tired yit 13 Oh, de little black train is a-comin’ Hit’ll git yo’ bizness right Better ﬁx yo’ house in order Caze hit may be here tonight Oh, de little black train is er comin’ Hit’s comin’ round de curve Hit’s pufﬁn’ en hit’s blowin’ Hit’s strainin’ every nerve 14 Didn’t you hear Heaven bells ringin’? Yes, I heered Heaven bells ringin’ Didn’t you hear Heaven bells ringin’? Yes, I heered Heaven bells ringin’ Heaven bells ringin’ in my soul Heaven bells ringin’ in my soul Not a bit of evil in my soul Not a bit of evil in my soul Oh, didn’t you hear dat turkle dove moan? Yes, I heered dat turkle dove moan

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Didn’t you hear dat turkle dove moan? Yes, I heered dat turkle dove moan Turkle dove moanin’ in my soul Turkle dove moanin’ in my soul Not a bit of evil in my soul Not a bit of evil in my soul 15 Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh,

de hearse keep a-rollin’ somebody to de grave-yard de hearse keep a-rollin’ somebody to de grave-yard de hearse keep a-rollin’ somebody to de grave-yard Lord, I feel lak my time ain’t long

Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh,

de bell keep a-tonin’ somebody is er dying de bell keep a-tonin’ somebody is er dying de bell keep a-tonin’ somebody is er dying Lord, I feel lak my time ain’t long

Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh,

my mother outrun me en she gone on to glory my mother outrun me en she gone on to glory my mother outrun me en she gone on to glory Lord, I feel lak my time ain’t long

16 Ole John de Baptist, ole John Divine Frogs an’ de snakes gonna eat ole John so bad God tole de angel: ‘‘Go down see ‘bout John’’ Angel ﬂew frum de bottom uv de pit Gathered de wind all in his ﬁst Gathered de stars all ‘bout his wrist Gathered de moon all ‘round his waist Cryin’ ‘‘Holy,’’ cryin’ ‘‘Holy,’’ cryin’ ‘‘Holy, my Lord,’’ cryin’ ‘‘Holy’’ 17 One day, one day I was goin’ to pray Thank God A’mighty I’m free at las’ I met ole Satan on my way Thank God A’mighty I’m free at las’ Whut you reckon, whut you reckon ole Satan had to say? Thank God A’mighty I’m free at las’ Young man, young man, you’s too young to pray Thank God A’mighty I’m free at las’ Ef I’m too young to pray, I ain’t too young ter die Thank God A’mighty I’m free at las’ Thank God a’mighty I’m free at las’ I ain’t been to Heaven, but I been told Thank God A’mighty I’m free at las’

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The streets is pearl en de gates is gold Thank God A’mighty I’m free at las’ Whut you reckon, whut you reckon ole Satan had to say? Thank God A’mighty I’m free at las’ That Jesus was dead and God gone away Thank God A’mighty I’m free at las’ But Satan is a liar and a conjurer too Thank God A’mighty I’m free at las’ An ef you doan mine, he’ll conjure you Thank God A’mighty I’m free at las’ 18 Sinner man er you may run away er But you gotta come back er at Judgment Day You gotta go ‘fore dem bars of God The balance is dere er you must be weighed er Says after you balance dem balance too low Says down in Hell you er sho to go My Lord, who built dis Ark? Nora, Nora Who built dis Ark? Nora, Lord Says, dig my grave er wid the silver spade En the link er of chain fer to link er me down Er en a windin’ sheet fer to wind me up In de lotion of friends all standin’ round Er de dirt come tumblin’, en de cofﬁn sound Er en de creepin’ things wuz on de ground My Lord, who built de Ark? Nora, Nora Oh, Lord, who built de Ark? Nora, Nora 19 Oh, you may be a white man White as de dribberlin’ snow Ef yo’ soul ain’t ankeld* in Jesus To hell you sho’ly go 20 I’m goin’ to mumble up old Zion Old Zion, Old Zion I’m goin’ to mumble up old Zion Een muh h’art 21 Ezekial cried out: Dry bones! Hear ye the Word of the Lawdl Good Lawd! Dem bones, dry bones Dem bones got to jumpin’ around

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Good Lawd! Dem bones, dry bones Dem bones got to jumpin’ around Hear ye the Word of the Lawd! Source: Guilds’ Committee for Federal Writers’ Publications, Inc., 1937.

91. Amateur Night in Harlem, ‘‘That’s Why Darkies Were Born,’’ 1938 DOROTHY WEST The Apollo Theater in Harlem is legendary. Most African American performers started their musical or acting careers there or performed on this stage at some point. While the names of countless performers graced the stage of this sacred place, the audiences played a bigger role in wowing newcomers with thunderous applause, or booing so loud that stage clowns tugged them off stage, never to be seen or heard from again. Writer Dorothy West captured this place in the following piece and managed to deliver a poignant reminder that America outside the doors of this theater was less forgiving than even the most critical audience at the Apollo. The second balcony is packed. The friendly, familiar usher who scowls all the time without meaning it, ﬂatfoots up and down the stairs trying to ﬁnd seats for the sweethearts. Through his tireless manipulation, separated couples are reunited, and his pride is pardonable. The crowd has come early, for it is amateur night. The Apollo Theater is full to overﬂowing. Amateur night is an institution. Every Wednesday, from eleven until midnight, the hopeful aspirants come to the mike, lift up their voices and sing, and retire to the wings for the roll call, when a ﬂuttering piece of paper dangled above their heads comes to rest determined by the volume of applause to indicate to whom the prizes shall go. The boxes are ﬁlled with sightseeing whites led in tow by swaggering blacks. The ﬂoor is chocolate liberally sprinkled with white sauce. But the balconies belong to the hardworking, holidaying Negroes, and the jitterbug whites are intruders, and their surface excitement is silly compared to the earthy enjoyment of the Negroes. The moving picture ends. The screen shoots out of sight. The orchestra blares out the soul-ticking tune, ‘‘I think you’re wonderful, I think you’re grand.’’ Spontaneously, feet and hands beat out the rhythm, and the show is on. The regular stage show preceds Amateur Hour. Tonight an all-girls orchestra dominates the stage. A long black girl in ﬂowing pink blows blue notes out of a clarinet. It is hot song, and the audience stomps its approval. A little yellow trumpeter swings out. She holds a high note, and it soars up solid. The fourteen pieces are in the groove. The comedians are old-timers. Their comedy is pure Harlemese, and their prototypes are scattered throughout the audience. There is a burst of appreciative laughter and a round of applause when the redoubtable Jackie Mabley states that she is doing general housework in the Bronx and adds, with telling emphasis, ‘‘When you do housework up there, you really do housework.’’ It is real Negro idiom when one comedian observes to-another who is carrying a ﬁne fur coat for his girl, ‘‘Anytime I see you with something on your arm, somebody is without something.’’

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The show moves on. The girls of sixteen varying shades dance without precision but with effortless joy . The best of their spontaneous steps will ﬁnd their way downtown. A long brown boy who looks like Cab Calloway sings, ‘‘Papa Tree-Top Tall.’’ The regular stage show comes to an end. The act ﬁle on stage. The chorus girls swing in the background. It is a free-for-all, and to the familiar ‘‘I think you’re wonderful, I think you’re grand’’, the black-face comic grabs the prettiest chorine and they truck on down. When the curtain descends, both sides of the house are having fun. A Negro show would rather have the plaudits of an Apollo audience than any other applause. For the Apollo is the hard, testing ground of Negro show business, and approval there can make or break an act. It is eleven now. The house lights go up. The audience is restless and expectant. Somebody has brought a whistle that sounds like a wailing baby. The cry ﬁlls the theater and everybody laughs. The orchestra breaks into the theater’s theme song again. The curtain goes up. A [WMCA?] announcer talks into a mike, explaining to his listeners that the three hundred and ﬁrst broadcast of Amateur Hour at the Apollo is on the air. He signals to the audience and they obligingly applaud. The emcee comes out of the wings. The audience knows him. He is Negro to his toes, but even Hitler would classify him as Aryan at ﬁrst glance. He begins a steady patter of jive. When the audience is ready and mellow, he calls the ﬁrst amateur out of the wings. Willie comes out and, on his way to the mike, touches the Tree of Hope. For several years the original Tree of Hope stood in front of the Lafayette Theater on Seventh Avenue until the Commissioner of Parks tore it down. It was to bring good fortune to whatever actor touched it, and some say it was not Mr. Moses who had it cut down, but the steady stream of down-and-out actors since the depression who wore it out. Willie sings ‘‘I surrender Dear’’ in a pure Georgia accent. ‘‘I can’ mak’ mah way,’’ he moans. The audience hears him out and claps kindly. He bows and starts for the wings. The emcee admonishes, ‘‘You got to boogie-woogie off the stage, Willie.’’ He boogie-woogies off, which is as much a part of established ritual as touching the Tree of Hope. Vanessa appears. She is black and the powder makes her look purple. She is dressed [in black?], and is altogether unprepossessing. She is the kind of singer who makes faces and regards a mike as an enemy to be wrestled with. The orchestra sobs out her song. ‘‘I cried for you, now it’s your turn to cry over me.’’ Vanessa is an oldtime ‘‘coon-shouter.’’ She wails and moans deep blue notes. The audience give her their highest form of approval. They clap their hands in time with the music. She ﬁnishes to tumultous applause, and accepts their approval with proud self-conﬁdence. To their wild delight, she ﬂings her arms around the emcee, and boogie woogies off with him. Ida comes out in a summer print to sing that beautiful lyric, ‘‘I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart,’’ in a nasal, off-key whine. Samuel follows her. He is big and awkward, and his voice is very earnest as he promises, ‘‘I Won’t Tell A Soul I love you.’’ They are both so inoffensive and sincere that the audience lets them off with light applause. Coretta steps to the mike. Her ﬁrst note is so awful that the emcee goes to the Tree of Hope and touches it for her. The audience lets her sing the ﬁrst bar, then bursts into cat- calls and derisive whistling. In a moment the familiar police siren is heard off-stage, and big, dark brown Porto Rico, who is part and parcel of amateur night, comes on stage with nothing covering his nakedness but a brassiere and

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panties and shoots twice at Coretta’s feet. She hurriedly retires to the wings with Porto Rico switching after her, brandishing his gun. A clarinetist, a lean dark boy, pours out such sweetness in ‘‘Body and Soul’’ that somebody rises and shouts, ‘‘Peace, brother!’’ in heartfelt approval. Margaret follows with a sour note. She has chosen to sing ‘‘Old Folks’’, and her voice quavers so from stage fright that her song becomes an unfortunate choice, and the audience stomps for Porto Rico who appears in a pink and blue ballet costume to run her off the stage. David is next on the program. With mounting frenzy he sings the intensely pleading blues song, ‘‘Rock it for Me.’’ He clutches his knees, rolls his eyes, sings away from the mike, and works himself up to a pitch of excitement that is only cooled by the appearance of Porto Rico in a red brassiere, an ankle-length red skirt, and an exaggerated picture hat. The audience goes wild. Ida comes out. She is a lumpy girl in a salmon pink blouse. The good-looking emcee leads her to the mike and pats her shoulder encouragingly. She snuggles up to him, and a female onlooker audibly snorts, ‘‘She sure wants to be hugged.’’ A male spectator shouts, gleefully, ‘‘Give her something!’’ Ida sings the plaintive, ‘‘My Reverie’’. Her accent is late West Indian and her voice is so bad that for a minute you wonder if it’s an act. Instantly here are whistles, boos, and handclapping. The siren sounds off stage and Porto Rico rushed on in an old fashioned corset and a marabou-trimmed bed jacket. His shots leave her undisturbed. The audience tries to drown her out with louder applause and whistling. She holds to the mike and sings to the bitter end. It is Porto Rico who trots sheepishly after her when she walks unabashed from the stage. James come to the mike and is reminded by the audience to touch the Tree of Hope. He hasn’t forgotten. He tries to start his song, but the audience will not let him. The emcee explains to him that the Tree of Hope is a sacred emblem. The boy doesn’t care, and begins his song again. He has been in New York two days, and the emcee cracks that he’s been in New York two days too long. The audience refuses to let the lad sing, and the emcee banishes him to the wings to think it over. A slight, young girl in a crisp white blouse and neat black shirt comes to the mike to sing ‘‘tisket tasket’’. She has lost her yellow-basket, and her listeners spontaneously inquire of her, ‘‘Was it red?’’ She shouts back dolefully, ‘‘No, no, no, no!’’ ‘‘Was it blue?’’ No, it wasn’t blue, either.’’ They go on searching together. A chastened James reappears and touches the Tree of Hope. A woman states with grim satisfaction, ‘‘He teched de tree dat time.’’ He has tried to upset a precedent, and the audience is against him from the start. They boo and whistle immediately. Porto Rico in red ﬂannels and a ﬂoppy red hat happily shoots him off the stage. A high school girl in middy blouse, jumper and socks rocks ‘‘Froggy Bottom.’’ She is the youngest thing yet, and it doesn’t matter how she sings. The house rocks with her. She winds up triumphantly with a tap dance, and boogie woogies conﬁdently off the stage. A frightened lad falls upon the mike. It is the only barrier between him and the murderous multitude. The emcee’s encouragement falls on frozen ears. His voice starts down in his chest and stays here. The house roars for the kill, Porto Rico, in a baby’s bonnet and a little girl’s party frock, ﬁnishes him off with dispatch. A white man comes out of the wings, but nobody minds. They have got accustomed to occasional white performers at the Apollo. There was a dancing act in the regular stage show which received deserved applause. The emcee announces the

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song, ‘‘That’s Why—–’’ he omits the next word ‘‘Were Born.’’ He is a Negro emcee. He will not use the word ‘‘darky’’ in announcing a song a white man is to sing. The white man begins to sing, ‘‘Someone had to plough the cotton, Someone had to plant the corn, Someone had to work while the white folks played, That’s why darkies were born.’’ The Negroes hiss and boo. Instantly the audience is partisan. The whites applaud vigorously. But the greater volume of hisses and boos drown out the applause. The singer halts. The emcee steps to the house mike and raises his hand for quiet. He does not know what to say, and says ineffectually that the song was written to be sung and urges that the singer be allowed to continue. The man begins again, and on the instant is booed down. The emcee does not know what to do. They are on a sectional hook-up—the announcer has welcomed Boston and Philadelphia to the program during the station break. The studio ofﬁcials, the listening audience, largely white, has heard a Negro audience booing a white man. It is obvious that in his confusion the emcee has forgotten what the song connotes. The Negroes are not booing the white man as such. They are booing him for his categorization of them. The song is not new. A few seasons ago they listened to it in silent resentment. Now they have learned to vocalize their bitterness. They cannot bear that a white man, as poor as themselves, should so separate himself from their common fate and sing paternally for a price of their predestined lot to serve. For the third time the man begins, and now all the fun that has gone before is forgotten. There is resentment in every heart. The white man will not save the situation by leaving the stage, and the emcee steps again to the house mike with an impassioned plea. The Negroes know this emcee. He is as white as any white man. Now it is ironic that he should be so fair, for the difference between him and the amateur is too undeﬁned. The emcee spreads out his arms and begins, ‘‘My people—.’’ He says without explanation that ‘‘his people’’ should be proud of the song. He begs ‘‘his people’’ to let the song be sung to show that they are ladies and gentlemen. He winds up with a last appeal to ‘‘his people’’ for fair-play. He looks for all the world like the plantation owner’s yellow boy acting as buffer between the black and the big house. The whole house breaks into applause, and this time the scattered hisses are drowned out. The amateur begins and ends in triumph. He is the last contestant, and in the line-up immediately following, he is overwhelmingly voted ﬁrst prize. More of the black man’s blood money goes out of Harlem. The show is over. The orchestra strikes up, ‘‘I think you’re wonderful, I think you’re grand.’’ The audience ﬁles out. They are quiet and confused and sad. It is twelve on the dot. Six hours of sleep and then back to the Bronx or up and down an elevator shaft. Yessir, Mr. White Man, I work all day while you-all play. It’s only fair. That’s why darkies were born. Source: New York, NY, 1938. Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

92. Temple of Grace, 1938 DOROTHY WEST Writer Dorothy West covered the churches in Harlem, particularly that of a chrarismatic preacher, Marceline Manuel DaGraca, who called himself ‘‘Daddy Grace.’’ Daddy Grace was a phenomenon who rose up in the 1930s to challenge the religious throne of a rival, George Baker, who called himself Father Divine.

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Twenty West One Hundred and Fifteenth Street is the New York stomping ground of Daddy Grace, the self-styled rival of Father Divine. It was to this building that he came roaring out of Washington, with the as yet unfulﬁlled promise of dethroning the Father. Divine’s lease on this property had expired, and at renewal time it was discovered that Daddy Grace had signed ahead of him. Divine’s prestige tottered brieﬂy, for it was a test of faith to his followers to accept the forced removal of God from his heaven by a mundane piece of paper. However, through an act of a diviner God, the Father acquired Crum Elbow as well as a handsome property on West One Hundred and Twenty-Fourth Street, and it was Daddy Grace whose trimph was now scarcely more than hollow. The grace Temple on One Hundred and Fifteenth Street, still surrounded by various ﬂourishing business establishments of Father Divine, is a red-brick building plastered over with crude angelic drawings and pious exhortations. The entrance hall leads directly to a ﬂight of descending stairs over which is the inscription Grace Kitchen, or across a narrow threshold into the auditorium. This auditorium is of good size, seating possibly two hundred people. The ﬂoor is plain, reverberating board. The seats appear new and are cushioned in red leather of good quality. The walls are blue, with gilt borders and two foot bases painted red. At the rear, to the right, are elevated rows of seats which the choir of ﬁfteen lusty white-robed women occupy. On a platform above them is an upright piano. At half-past seven the choir began to drift in, and until eight they sang unfamiliar hymns grouped around the piano. Occasionally the pianist quickened the tempo into swing, and the choir swayed and shufﬂed and beat out the rhythm with their hands and feet. In the place occupied by the pulpit in the average church is an elevated, wooden enclosure, most nearly resembling the throne room of a maypole queen. Six graded steps lead up to it, and most of the incoming congregation knelt brieﬂy at the foot of the stairs before settling in their seats. In the absence of Daddy Grace, who did not appear all evening, they made obeisance to the covered throne chair which stood center in the enclosure and was not uncovered at any time during the proceedings. To the left of the throne room was orchestra space. There were a piano, a trombone, a drum, two sousaphones, and two trumpets. At half-past seven a child less that two was beating without reprimand on the drum. He played unceasingly until the orchestra members entered at past eight, and the drummer smilingly relieved him of the sticks. The auditorium ﬁlled slowly In all there were about seventy-ﬁve people. Most of the congregation came singly or in groups from the dining room, and many continued to munch after they were seated. There were at ﬁrst no ushers. Toward the end of the evening a young man in a smart uniform with Captain lettered on an arm band and Grade Soldier lettered on his breast stood at stiff attention at the rear of the temple. His one duty was to admonish the half-dozen non-participants, a row of high-school boys, not to whisper. Oddly enough, at that time the place was bedlam. The crowd gathered informally. There were as many young children as adults. The grown-ups visited with each other. The children played up and down the aisles. There was unchecked laughter. There were only two or three [lone?] men with poverty and disinterest in their faces, who spoke to no one and appeared to have come in to escape the cold.

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In contrast to the Divinites who are for the most part somberly and shabbily dressed, the Grace cohorts, though apparently poor, follow their own fashion dictates. The older women were plainly and poorly costumed, but the younger women wore skillful make-up, cheap hats smartly tilted, intriguing veils, and spike heels. One young woman who came in street clothes disappeared down the stairs and returned in an ankle-length dinner dress of black taffeta. It was she who accepted the offerings which white-frocked women brought her after each collection. At eight the choir took their proper seats, and for half an hour sang familiar hymns, with frequent interpolations of praise to Daddy Grace. The congregation meanwhile had settled and quieted. No one joined in the singing, but there was perfunctory applause at the conclusion of each song. Occasionally a member turned to look up at the choir with mild interest. When the choir service ended, a slim light brown man in a business suit appeared. At his entrance the orchestra began to play an unfamiliar tune, a variation of four notes, in swing tempo. The man said there would be a short prayer. His voice rose in illiterate and incoherent prayer with frequent name coupling of God and Daddy Grace. At their mention, there were murmurs of ‘‘Amen’’ and ‘‘Praise Daddy.’’ The prayer concluded and the orchestra continued to play. Now the unchanging beat of the drum became insistent. Its steady monotone scraped the nerve center. The Africanesque beat went on … tom … tom … tom … tom … A woman in the front row rose. She ﬂung out her arms. Her body was slim and strong and beautiful. Her delicate-featured dark face became ecstatic. She began to chant in a vibrant unmusical voice, ‘‘I love bread, sweet bread.’’ She clapped her hands in 4/4 time. Presently she began to walk up and down before the throne, swaying from her hips, her feet shufﬂing in dance rhythm, singing over and over, ‘‘I love bread, sweet bread.’’ A man rose and ﬂung his hands in the air, waving them from the wrists. He began to moan and writhe. The monotonous beat of the drum was the one dominant note now, though the other instruments continued to play. Others rose and went through the motions of the woman. Children rose, too, children of grade school age, their faces strained and searching. A six year old boy clapped and stomped until his dull, pale, yellow face was red and moist. When a shouting, shufﬂing believer was struck by the spirit, his face assumed a look of idiocy, and he began to pivot slowly in a circle. Tender arms steadied him, and he was guided along by out-stretched hands until he reached the milling throng before the throne, where he whirled and danced and shrieked in the whirling, dancing, shrieking mob until he fell exhausted to the ﬂoor. When he revived, he weaved back unsteadily to his seat and helped to steer others to the throne. Finally both drummer and dancers were weary. The space before the throne cleared. A big pompous dark man in a business suit who had been sitting in one of the elevated seats in the rear, looking on with quiet approval, descended and came down the aisle, mounted the stairs leading to the throne, walked to a table to the right of the throne, and put on a gilded crown with a ﬁve-pointed star in its center. He advanced to the front of the dais and read brieﬂy from the Bible. The reading concluded, he began to address the congregation as ‘‘dear ones’’ and ‘‘beloved’’. His voice was oily, his expression crafty. His garbled speech played on the emotions. He spoke feelingly of the goodness of Daddy, of Daddy’s great love for his ﬂock. He called them Daddy’s children and urged them to obey and trust Daddy, and reminded them that they were part of a United Kingdom of Prayer. When the

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swelling murmurs of ‘‘Amens’’ and ‘‘Praise Daddy’’ indicated their revived strength and ardor, he bent to the woman who had ﬁrst started the singing and asked in his smooth voice, ‘‘Sister, will you start the singing again?’’ She rose and began to moan and sway. The orchestra took up her tune, but this time the drum did not beat, and suddenly a tambourine was heard, then another, and then another, until their were four or ﬁve. The beat was the same as the drum’s had been, steady, monotonous, insidious, and far more deafening. When the open palms and closed ﬁsts slapped the center of the tambourine, the little disks jangled and added to the maddening sound. The crowd’s frenzy mounted. Their hysteria was greater than it had been before. They crowded to the space before the throne and their jerking bodies and distorted faces made them appear like participants in a sex orgy. Their cries were animal. When the young girls staggered back to their seats, they lay exhausted against the chair backs, tearing at their hair, with uncontrollable shudders shaking their bodies. The mad dance went on for forty minutes, twice as long and twice as terrible as the ﬁrst had been. When the man in the gilded crown felt their frenzy had reached its peak, he came to the front of the platform and stood silently until their awareness of his big, overbearing presence slowed their pace, muted the tambourines, and ﬁnally hushed the auditorium. When they returned exhausted to their seats, he immediately asked them if they loved Daddy enough to keep his temple going by the purchase of his various products. There was no attempt to gloss this bald question. When there were sufﬁcient murmurs of ‘‘Amen’’ and ‘‘Praise Daddy’’, he blew a police whistle and up and down the aisles went the white-frocked women hawking ‘‘Daddy Grace’’ toothpaste, hair pomade, lotions, and toiletries of every kind. One young woman was selling the Grace Magazine, 15 for the current issue, and 5 for back numbers. The sales were few, and the man in the gilded crown tried to encourage the buying by telling the congregation that soon Daddy Grace planned to open shops of every description all over Harlem, and there would be work for everybody. When the last purchase had been made, the pompous man asked the ﬁrst spokesman to read the list of trinkets available for Christmas presents. The list included a cross bearing Daddy Grace’s picture for $1.50, a combination pen and pencil for a like sum, other articles at various prices, most of them with Daddy’s picture as special inducement. The devotees signiﬁed their promise to purchase these trinkets by fervent ‘‘Amens.’’ This business concluded, the oily tongue called for the tithe offerings. Those with tithe money were asked to form a line in the center aisle. Half of the congregation got in line. The oily tongue asked for a march. The orchestra struck up. The whistle blew, and the marchers advanced to the front of the throne where they dropped their tithe money in the proferred baskets. The sum collected totaled only a dollar and some odd cents. The man in the gilded crown concluded that there were some who had tithes but were disinclined to march. Thereupon he dispatched the white-frocked women down the aisles with baskets. They bent over the rows, asking persuasively, ‘‘Help us with the offering, dear heart.’’ When they had returned to the throne, there was a short speech about pledge money, and they were dispatched again. Again they bent down, begging as persuasively as before, ‘‘Help us with the offering, dear heart.’’ When the copper and silver pledges were brought for his approval, the smooth tongue asked for offerings for the House of Prayer. His voice ﬁlled with entreaty. He

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talked of the Grace temples in other cities and implored the congregation to gladden Daddy’s heart by making this temple ‘‘the best of all.’’ It could only be done with money, he said. His language was plain and his appeal was not garnished by an spiritual references. Rather, he ﬁxed them with his eye and ﬂatly informed them that the temple could not run without money, and it was money that he wanted. He then asked the pianist for a march. The pianist who was leaning indolently against the piano with his collar open and his tie loosed, said wearily, ‘‘I’m tired.’’ One of the women in white ran down the aisle and returned with the man who had played for the choir. He obligingly swung into a march. The police whistle blew. The people with pledges were asked to line up in the center aisle. Happily and proudly they lined up in double ﬁle. Their manner of marching was different now. It was a shufﬂing strut, and their arms were bent up at the elbows and held ﬁrmly against the side. The line marched down the center to the throne, then divided and in single ﬁle shufﬂed up the two side aisles, met again at the rear of the hall, and then one after one went down the center aisle again and placed their pledge money in the basket. The man in the gilded crown announced that the offerings had reached the total of $5.06. He said that he did not want to take up their time by begging since the hour was growning late, but he wondered if there was anyone present who would raise the total to $5.25. A man came forward immediately. Thus encouraged, the pompous leader asked if there was another beloved heart who would increase the sum to $5.50. The woman who had led the singing promptly gave a quarter. The leader begged for another quarter for three or four minutes, but no one came forward. Abruptly he ended his plea and announced that he would now preach the sermon. As he spoke a woman screamed, and her arm shot stifﬂy up into the air while her body grew rigid. Three women laid her on the ﬂoor in the aisle. She continued to scream and moan, and then began to talk unintelligibly in a high-pitched, unnatural voice. The man in the gilded crown announced his text. His voice grew deep and stern. ‘‘I’ll tell my story about the cow and the sheep who told on the man.’’ He paused, and then waved his arm dramatically at the prostrate woman. ‘‘Oh, my beloveds,’’ he said, ‘‘sometimes I tremble in fear at the power, the wonderful, mysterious power.’’ He shook himself in semblance of terror, but it was not funny to the congregation. They stirred uneasily. ‘‘You must fear the power, the wonderful power,’’ he exhorted them. ‘‘You must fear and follow Daddy. You must have fear.’’ A man shot out of his seat and began to moan and sob, ﬂinging his arms around in the air. Smooth tongue looked at him with satisfaction. The congregation strained forward, a concerted sigh escaping from them. Others began to scream and moan. In a few minutes half the ﬂock was on its feet, beginning again that stupefying, tireless dance. In a few minutes more almost every man, woman, and child was dancing, this time without music but with a uniformity of shufﬂing step and weaving arms. The man in the gilded crown retired to the rear of the platform, his performance over. The crazy dance went on. In the street the sound was audible a half block away. Source: New York, NY, 1938. Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

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Voices of the African American Experience

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Voices of the African American Experience VOLUME 3 Edited by Lionel C. Bascom

GREENWOOD PRESS Westport, Connecticut ¥ London

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Voices of the African American experience / edited by Lionel C. Bascom. 3 v. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-313-34347-6 (set) — ISBN 978-0-313-34349-0 (vol. 1) — ISBN 978-0-313-34351-3 (vol. 2) — ISBN 978-0-313-34353-7 (vol. 3) 1. African Americans—History—Sources. I. Bascom, Lionel C. E184. 6. V65 2009 2008056155 9730 .0496073—dc22 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available. Copyright C 2009 by Lionel C. Bascom All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, by any process or technique, without the express written consent of the publisher. Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2008056155 ISBN: 978-0-313-34347-6 978-0-313-34349-0 978-0-313-34351-3 978-0-313-34353-7

(set) (vol 1) (vol 2) (vol 3)

First published in 2009 Greenwood Press, 88 Post Road West, Westport, CT 06881 An imprint of Greenwood Publishing Group, Inc. www.greenwood.com Printed in the United States of America

The paper used in this book complies with the Permanent Paper Standard issued by the National Information Standards Organization (Z39.48-1984). 10 9 8 7

6 5 4 3

2 1

Every reasonable effort has been made to trace the owners of copyright materials in this book, but in some instances this has proven impossible. The author and publisher will be glad to receive information leading to more complete acknowledgments in subsequent printings of the book and in the meantime extend their apologies for any omissions.

Contents Preface Introduction Chronology

xiii xvii xxi VOLUME 1

1. A Narrative Of the Uncommon Sufferings, And Surprizing Delieverance Of Briton Hammon, A Negro Man,—Servant to General Winslow, Of Marshﬁeld, in New-England; Who returned to Boston, after having been absent almost Thirteen Years. Containing An Account of the many Hardships he underwent from the Time he left his Master’s House, in the Year 1747, to the Time of his Return to Boston.—How he was Cast away in the Capes of Florida;—the horrid Cruelty and inhuman Barbarity of the Indians in murdering the whole Ship’s Crew;—the Manner of his being carry’d by them into Captivity. Also, An Account of his being Conﬁned Four Years and Seven Months in a close Dungeon,—And the remarkable Manner in which he met with his good old Master in London; who returned to New-England, a Passenger, in the same Ship, by Briton Hammon, 1760 2. A Narrative Of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life of James Albert Ukawsaw Gronniosaw, an African Prince, written by himself, 1774 3. Notes on the State of Virginia, by Thomas Jefferson, 1782 4. An Address to the Negroes in the State of New-York, by Jupiter Hammon, 1787 5. The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, 1789 6. The Fugitive Slave Act, U.S. Congress, 1793 7. Printed Letter, by Anthony New, 1794 8. A Narrative of the Life and Adventures of Venture: A Native of Africa, but Resident above Sixty Years in the United States of America, Related by Himself, 1798 9. The Confessions of Nat Turner, the Leader of the Late Insurrection in Southampton, Virginia, 1832 10. John Quincy Adams diary 41, 5 December 1836–4 January 1837, 29 July 1840–31 December 1841

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11. Illinois State Legislator Abraham Lincoln Opposes Slavery, March 3, 1837 12. The Church and Prejudice, by Frederick Douglass, November 4, 1841 13. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave, Written by Himself, 1845 14. Farewell to the British People: An Address Delivered in London, England, March 30, 1847, by Frederick Douglass 15. Narrative of the life and adventures of Henry Bibb, an American slave, written by himself, 1849 16. Excerpted from ‘‘Uncle Tom’s Story of His Life’’ an Autobiography of the Rev. Josiah Henson (Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe’s ‘‘Uncle Tom’’), from 1789 to 1876 17. The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro, by Frederick Douglass, July 5, 1852 18. Choice Thoughts and Utterances of Wise Colored People 19. Essay on Slavery Conditions, by Francis Henderson, 1856 20. Supreme Court of the United States in Dred Scott v. John F. Sanford, March 6, 1857 21. Speech by Abraham Lincoln on the Dred Scott Decision and Slavery, June 26, 1857 22. Our Nig; or, Sketches from the Life of a Free Black, in a Two-Story White House, North, by Harriet E. Wilson, 1859 23. Letters on American Slavery from Victor Hugo, de Tocqueville, Emile de Girardin, Carnot, Passy, Mazzini, Humboldt, O. Lafayette—&c, 1860 24. Correspondence between Lydia Maria Child and Gov. Wise and Mrs. Mason, of Virginia, 1860 25. The Constitution of the United States: Is It Pro-Slavery or Anti-Slavery?, by Frederick Douglass, March 26, 1860 26. History of American abolitionism: its four great epochs, embracing narratives of the ordinance of 1787, compromise of 1820, annexation of Texas, Mexican war, Wilmot proviso, negro insurrections, abolition riots, slave rescues, compromise of 1850, Kansas bill of 1854, John Brown insurrection, 1859, valuable statistics, &c., &c., &c., together with a history of the southern confederacy, by F.G. De Fontaine, 1861 27. George Wils to Writer’s Sister, March 18, 1861 28. ‘‘Fighting Rebels with Only One Hand,’’ Douglass’ Monthly [The North Star], September 1861 29. Excerpt from The Gullah Proverbs of 1861, Down by the Riverside: A South Carolina Slave Community, by Charles Joyner 30. Excerpted from The Negroes at Port Royal, report of E. L. Pierce, to the Hon. Salmon P. Chase, U.S. Secretary of the Treasury, 1862 31. The Emancipation Proclamation, 1863 32. William Tell Barnitz to the Pennsylvania Daily Telegraph, March 27, 1863

58 59 61 62 62

65 66 71 74 75 76 84

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33. Sojourner Truth, The Libyan Sibyl, by Harriet Beecher Stowe, April 1863 34. The Negro in the Regular Army, by Oswald Garrison Villard 35. Our alma mater: Notes on an address delivered at Concert Hall on the occasion of the Twelfth Annual Commencement of the Institute for Colored Youth, by Alumni Association, May 10, 1864 36. Excerpt reprinted from ‘‘A Colored Man’s Reminiscences of James Madison’’ 37. What the Black Man Wants: a speech delivered by Frederick Douglass at the Annual Meeting of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society in Boston, April 1865 38. 14th Amendment, 1866 39. Letter from Amelia [Unknown family name] to brother Eddie, December 11, 1869 40. First Annual Address to the Law Graduates of Allen University, class 1884, given by D. Augustus Straker, June 12, 1884 41. Emigration to Liberia, Report of the Standing committee on emigration of the Board of directors of the American colonization society, unanimously adopted, Washington D.C.: January 20, 1885 42. The Future of the Colored Race, by Frederick Douglass, May 1886

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VOLUME 2 43. Common Sense in Common Schooling: a sermon by Alex. Crummell, Rector of St. Luke’s Church, Washington, D.C., September 13, 1886 44. The Wonderful Eventful Life of Rev. Thomas James, by himself, 1887 45. A memorial souvenir of Rev. J. Wofford White, Pastor of Wesley M.E. Church, Charleston, S.C., who fell asleep, January 7th, 1890, aged 33 years, by George C. Rowe Clinton, 1890 46. What the Southern Negro is Doing for Himself, by Samuel J. Barrows, June 1891 47. In memoriam: Sarah Partridge Spofford: born November 10, 1823, departed May 11, 1892, Substance of address by Rev. R. R. Shippen at the funeral service, May 13, 1892 48. A Noble Life: Memorial Souvenir of Rev. Jos. C. Price, D.D, by George C. Rowe Clinton, 1894 49. Light beyond the Darkness, by Frances E.W. Harper, 189-(?) 50. Excerpted from Afro-American encyclopedia, or, the thoughts, doings, and sayings of the race: embracing addresses, lectures, biographical sketches, sermons, poems, names of universities, colleges, seminaries, newspapers, books, and a history of the denominations, giving the numerical strength of each. In fact, it teaches every subject of interest to the colored people, as dicussed by more than one hundred of their

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51. 52. 53. 54. 55.

56. 57. 58. 59. 60.

61. 62.

63. 64. 65. 66.

67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72.

wisest and best men and women, compiled and arranged by James T. Haley, 1895 Sermon preached by Rev. G. V. Clark, at Second Congregational Church, Memphis, Tenn., Sunday morning June 16, 1895 The Atlanta Compromise, by Booker T. Washington, 1895 The higher education of the colored people of the South, remarks of Hugh M. Browne, of Washington D.C., 1896 Supreme Court of the United States in Plessy vs. Ferguson 163 U.S. 537, 1896 Address of Booker T. Washington, delivered at the alumni dinner of Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts, after receiving the honorary degree of ‘‘Master of Arts,’’ June 24, 1896 How shall the colored youth of the South be educated?, by A. D. Mayo, 1897 ‘‘Lift Every Voice and Sing,’’ or, ‘‘The Negro National Anthem,’’ by James Weldon Johnson and John R. Johnson Commentary on The Progress of Colored Women, by Mary Church Terrell, by Richard T. Greener, 1898 A Century of Negro Migration, by Carter G. Woodson An address by Booker T. Washington, prin., Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Tuskegee, Alabama: delivered under the auspices of the Armstrong Association, Lincoln Day exercises, at the Madison Square Garden Concert Hall, New York, N.Y., February 12, 1898 The Progress of Colored Women, by Mary Church Terrell, 1898 The Literary souvenir, by Miss Rosena C. Palmer, Miss Lizzie L. Nelson, Miss Lizzie B. Williams … [et al.], Volume 1, 1898 A Negro Schoolmaster in the New South, by W. E. Burghardt DuBois, 1899 A prayer: words by B. G. Brawley, music by Arthur Hilton Ryder, 1899 The Hardwick Bill: an interview in the Atlanta Constitution, by Booker T. Washington, 1900 Nineteenth annual report of the principal of the Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Tuskegee, Alabama, for the year ending May 31, 1900, submitted by Booker T. Washington Paths of Hope for the Negro: Practical Suggestions of a Southerner, by Jerome Dowd, 1900 The Freedmen’s Bureau, by W. E. Burghardt DuBois, March 1901 The Free Colored People of North Carolina, by Charles Waddell Chesnutt, 1902 Of the Training of Black Men, by W. E. B. DuBois, September 1902 The Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U.S.A., An address to the American Negro, 1907 The Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U.S.A., An address to the American Negro, on ‘‘Separate but Equal’’ doctrines, 1907

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340 346 351 363 367 368 373

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73. The Flat Hunters: a Musical Satire on Moving Day, by Junie McCree, 1914 74. The Negro Genius, by Benjamin Brawley, May 1915 75. Excerpt from the Marcus Garvey and Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA) Papers, 1919 76. A Century of Negro Migration, Chapter 10, by Carter Godwin Woodson 77. The Soul of White Folks, by W. E. B. DuBois, 1920 78. Declaration of Rights of the Negro Peoples of the World, 1920 79. The Eruption of Tulsa, by Walter White, June 29, 1921 80. The Autobiography of Marcus Garvey, 1923 81. Harlem, by Alain Locke, March 1925 82. Enter the New Negro, by Alain Locke, March 1925 83. African Fundamentalism, by Marcus Garvey, 1925 84. A Piece of Saw, by Theodore Ledyard Browne, May 1929 85. The South Speaks, by John Henry Hammond, Jr., April 26, 1933 86. The Pullman Porters Win, by Edward Berman, August 21, 1935 87. Deadhead: A Pullman Porter Steps Out of Character, by Jessie Carter, August 1935 88. September Ghost Town–Almost: The Depression Hits a Negro Town, by Isabel M. Thompson and Louise T. Clarke, September 1935 89. Harlem: Dark Weather-Vane, by Alain Locke, August 1936 90. Twenty-one Negro Spirituals, Americana No. 3, Recorded by So. Carolina Project Workers, Efﬁngham, South Carolina, 1937 91. Amateur Night in Harlem, ‘‘That’s Why Darkies Were Born,’’ by Dorothy West, 1938 92. Temple of Grace, by Dorothy West, 1938

374 375 377 379 385 395 399 401 409 412 419 421 426 430 433 436 438 447 454 457

VOLUME 3 93. Game Songs and Rhymes, interview with Mrs. Laura M, by Dorothy West, October 1938 94. Afternoon in a Pushcart Peddler’s Colony, by Frank Byrd, December 1938 95. Matt Henson, North Pole explorer retires, by Theodore Poston, 1938–1939 96. Midlothian, Illinois: A Folklore in the Making, by Alfred O. Phillipp, 1939 97. Cocktail Party: Personal Experience, Harlem Hostess, by Dorothy West, 1939 98. Down in the West Indies, by Ellis Williams, January 1939 99. Laundry Workers, by Vivian Morris, March 1939 100. Worker’s Alliance, by Vivian Morris, May 1939 101. ‘‘Early in the Morning,’’ sung by Hollis (Fat Head) Washington, May 23–25, 1939 102. ‘‘Got a Woman on the Bayou,’’ sung by Ross (Po’ Chance) Williams, Field Holler, May 23–25, 1939

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103. ‘‘If She Don’t Come on de Big Boat,’’ sung by W.D. (Alabama) Stewart, Field Holler, May 23–25, 1939 104. Jim Cole, Negro Packinghouse Worker, by Betty Burke, July 1939 105. Negro Life on a Farm, Mary Johnson, by Mrs. Ina B. Hawkes, October 27, 1939 106. Coonjine in Manhattan, by Garnett Laidlaw Eskew, 1939 107. Harlem Parties, by Al Thayer, as told to Frank Byrd, 1939–1940 108. Excerpt from Twelve Million Black Voices, by Richard Wright, 1941 109. The Woman at the Well, by James Baldwin, 1941 110. In a Harlem Cabaret, by O’Neill Carrington, 1942 111. Rendezvous with Life: An Interview with Countee Cullen, by James Baldwin, 1942 112. Executive Order 9981, issued by President Harry S. Truman on July 26, 1948 113. Taking Jim Crow out of uniform: A. Philip Randolph and the desegregation of the U.S. military—Special Report: The Integrated Military—50 Years, by Karin Chenoweth 114. Ralph Bunche Biography, From Nobel Lectures, Peace 1950 115. Nobel Peace Prize Winner Ralph Bunche, Acceptance Speech, 1950 116. FBI Investigation of Malcolm X, 1925–1964 117. Supreme Court of the United States in Brown vs. Board of Education, 1954 118. Negro as an American, by Lyndon B. Johnson, Robert C. Weaver, Joseph P. Lyford, and John Cogley, 1963 119. President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Address Before a Joint Session of the Congress, November 27, 1963 120. Excerpts from 78 Stat. 241, The Civil Rights Act of 1964 121. ‘‘The Ballot or the Bullet,’’ delivered by Malcolm X in Cleveland, April 3, 1964 122. President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Radio and Television Remarks Upon Signing the Civil Rights Bill, July 2, 1964 123. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 124. The Equal Employment Opportunity Act, 1965 125. Statement on the Articles of Impeachment, by Barbara Charline Jordan, July 25, 1974 126. 1976 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, by Barbara Charline Jordan, July 12, 1976 127. Q & A with Singer Alberta Hunter, by talk show host Dick Cavett, 1978 128. 1984 Democratic National Convention Address, by Jesse Jackson, July 18, 1984 129. 1988 Democratic National Convention Address, by Jesse Jackson, July 19, 1988 130. Dorothy Gilliam interview, 1992 131. Oral History of Bassist Chuck Rainey, by Will Lee, 1992 132. Minister Louis Farrakhan Challenges Black Men—remarks made during the Million Man March, October 17, 1995

486 486 487 489 496 499 499 502 502 504

505 508 510 511 517 520 528 531 533 546 548 557 564 567 570 574 581 590 611 617

Contents

133. The Oral History of Ruth Spaulding Boyd, interviewed by Serena Rhodie, 1996 134. The Oral History of Nathaniel B. White, interviewed by Robb Carroll, 1996 135. From ‘‘Diana Ross,’’ by Jill Hamilton from Rolling Stone, November 13, 1997 136. Interview with Dr. William Anderson, June 16, 1998 137. The Temptations Interview, by Billboard Magazine, July 22, 2000 138. 2000 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, by Congressman Harold Ford, Jr., August 15, 2000 139. Excerpts from ‘‘Al Foster: Drummer, Gentleman, Scholar,’’ Modern Drummer Magazine, April 2003 140. Excerpts from ‘‘Steve Smith: Confessions of an Ethnic Drummer,’’ by Bill Milkowski, Modern Drummer Magazine, May 2003 141. 2004 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, by Barack Obama, July 27, 2004 142. 2004 Democratic National Convention Address, by Reverend Al Sharpton, July 28, 2004 143. Cindy Birdsong: Supreme Replacement, by Jim Bagley, March 16, 2007 144. A More Perfect Union Speech, Barack Obama, March 18, 2008 145. Barack Obama’s Election Day Speech, November 4, 2008 Selected Bibliography Index

639 640 641 643 644 648 651 658 666 670 673 680 689 693 703

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VOLUME 3 93. Game Songs and Rhymes, interview with Mrs. Laura M, October 1938 DOROTHY WEST When the United States was plunged into a severe economic depression in the 1930s, most Americans were unemployed. The government launched a variety of programs aimed at putting Americans back to work. One of those programs was the Work Progress Administration, or the WPA, which included the Writers Project. Writers fanned out across the country, interviewing Americans about their lives. This interview is with a woman identiﬁed only as Mrs. Laura in New York City who talked about the games she played as a child. Mrs. Laura M. (prefers not to have her full name used) 300 West 114th Street, New York, N.Y, originally from South Carolina I used to hear Mama sing this song and play it on the organ. I don’t know where it started but I used to hear it all the time. The Little Brown Jug I. Me and my wife and the little brown jug Crossed the river on a hickory log. She fell in and I got wet; Hung to the little brown jug, you bet. Chorus: Ha-ha-ha, you and me, Little brown jug, don’t I love thee? Ha-ha-ha, you and me, Little brown jug, don’t I love thee? II. Me and my wife lived all alone In a little hut we called our own, She loved gin and I loved rum; We two together had a lot of fun.

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Chorus: Ha-ha-ha, you and me, Little brown jug, don’t I love thee? Ha-ha-ha, you and me, Little brown jug, I do love thee. We used to sing this one, too: O where, o where is my little dog gone? O where, o where has he gone? With his tail cut short and his ears cropped off, O where, o where has he gone? Chorus: He’s gone, he’s gone O where has he gone? O where has my little dog gone? (That was the funny part - ‘dog gone’.) II. O where, o where is my little dog gone? O where, o where has he gone? With his eyes punched out and his nose cut off, O where, o where has he gone? Chorus: He’s gone, he’s gone, O where has he gone? O where has my little dog gone? We used to sing this a lot when we were kids … No, you didn’t play any game with it. You just sat around singing it; a bunch could sing it, or just one or two. The number didn’t matter since no game was attached to it. I. My grandfather had some very ﬁne sheep, Some very ﬁne sheep had he. It was a baa, baa here, A baa, baa there; a baa, baa everywhere. Chorus: Come along boys, come along girls, To the merry green ﬁelds away.

93. Game Songs and Rhymes, Interview with Mrs. Laura M, October 1938 465

II. My grandfather had some very ﬁne cows, Some very ﬁne cows had he. It was a moo, moo here, A moo, moo there; a moo, moo everywhere. Chorus: Come along boys, come along girls, To the merry green ﬁelds away. III. My grandfather had some very ﬁne pigs, Some very ﬁne pigs had he. It was an oink, oink here, An oink, oink there; an oink, oink everywhere. Chorus: Come along boys, come along girls, To the merry green ﬁelds away. IV. My grandfather had some very ﬁne ducks, Some very ﬁne ducks had he. It was a quack, quack here, A quack, quack there; a quack, quack everywhere. Chorus: Come along boys, come along girls, To the merry green ﬁelds away. V. My grandfather had some very ﬁne chickens, Some very ﬁne chickens had he. It was a cluck, cluck here, A cluck, cluck there; a cluck, cluck everywhere. Chorus: Come along boys, come along girls, To the merry green ﬁelds away.

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VI. My grandfather had some very ﬁne horses, Some very ﬁne horses had he. It was a neigh, neigh here, A neigh, neigh there; a neigh, neigh everywhere. Chorus: Come along boys, come along girls, To the merry green ﬁelds away. VII. My grandfather had some very ﬁne mules, Some very ﬁne mules had he. It was a hee-haw here, A hee-haw there; a hee-haw everywhere. Chorus: Come along boys, come along girls, To the merry green ﬁelds away. VIII. My grandfather had some very ﬁne dogs, Some very ﬁne dogs had he. It was a woof-woof here, A woof-woof there; a woof-woof everywhere. Chorus: Come along boys, come along girls, To the merry green ﬁelds away. IX. My grandfather had some very ﬁne cats, Some very ﬁne cats had he. It was a meow-meow here, A meow-meow there; a meow-meow everywhere. Chorus: Come along boys, come along girls, To the merry green ﬁelds away.

93. Game Songs and Rhymes, Interview with Mrs. Laura M, October 1938 467

X. My grandfather had some very ﬁne pigeons, Some very ﬁne pigeons had he. It was a coo-coo here, A coo-coo there; a coo-coo everywhere. Chorus: Come along boys, come along girls, To the merry green ﬁelds away. XI. A baa, baa here, A moo, moo there, An oink, oink here, A quack, quack there, A cluck, cluck here, A neigh, neigh there, A hee-haw here, A woof-woof there, A meow-meow here, A coo-coo there. A baa, baa; a moo, moo; oink, oink; a quack, quack; cluck, cluck; neigh, neigh; hee-haw, hee-haw; woof-woof; meow, meow; coo-coo everywhere. Chorus: Come along boys, come along girls, To the merry green ﬁelds away. *** Most of the games that I played when I was a child are played today, except for one or two that I remembered … No, I don’t know whether they’re played the same way or not because I haven’t stopped to watch ‘em play nowadays. I. We used to play a game, I don’t know what it was called, where one kid would hide. It was like hide-and-seek backwards. That kid would hide somewhere and then the whole bunch of us would walk around together singing, ‘‘Ain’t no bogey-man out tonight’’. You never knew where the bogey-man was and sometimes he would sneak up on you and whoever he caught had to be the bogey-man next. You hardly ever went around singing by yourself, but with a whole bunch. There’d be two or three bunches, depending on how many were playing, of ﬁve or six. When the bogey-man started chasing you, you’d be scared to death, really thinking it was the bogey-man. If he caught you and you had to be the bogey-man, you’d be almost as scared chasing as you were being chased.

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II. Two kids could play this game, or as many as eight. If two played it, one said one line and the other said another, so on ‘til you said the last line. It was more fun if eight played it because you were so busy saying the last your line, you didn’t have time to ﬁgure out who’d say the last line—that was the funny one. If eight played it, it went like this: 1st child: 2nd child: 3rd child: 4th child: 5th child: 6th child: 7th child: 8th child: 1st child: 2nd child: 3rd child: 4th child:

‘‘I went upstairs’’ ‘‘What did you see?’’ ‘‘I saw a monkey’’ ‘‘Just like me’’ ‘‘I one him’’ ‘‘I two him’’ ‘‘I three him’’ ‘‘I four him’’ ‘‘I ﬁve him’’ ‘‘I six him’’ ‘‘I seven him’’ ‘‘I eight (ate) him’’

Then you’d start all over again. The ﬁfth child would say, ‘‘I went upstairs’’, and so on. Nobody wanted to say ‘‘Just like me’’ or ‘‘I eight (ate) him’’. It was a lot of fun. You’d keep on ‘til everybody had said ‘‘Just like me’’ and ‘til everybody ate him. III. We played a game called the Prisoner’s Game: You formed a circle and held hands with one child in the center. That child was in prison and tried to get out. When he thought you weren’t holding hands tight, he’d run and try to break through. After he tried that a couple of times and couldn’t get out, he’d come up to you and say: ‘‘Prisoner: Group: Prisoner: Group:

‘‘Is this door locked?’’ ‘‘Yes, child, yes.’’ ‘‘Can I get out of here?’’ ‘‘No, child, no.’’

Then he’d try to break out again. When he got out, you chased him and whoever caught him got to be the prisoner. Then you’d do it all over again ‘til you got tired.… Yes, it was a privilege to be the prisoner because you had more to do; you were more active. IV. Here we go ‘round the rosey-bush, The rosey-bush, the rosey-bush, Here we go ‘round the rosey-bush So early in the morning. The last one stoop shall tell her beau, Tell her beau, tell her beau, The last one stoop shall tell her beau So early in the morning. The last one to squat when you said, ‘‘The last one stoop’’ had to tell who her beau was. If boys played it too, and a boy was the last one to squat down, he had to name his girl.

94. Afternoon in a Pushcart Peddler’s Colony, December 1938

V. Here’s another game. Little girls around six or seven played it. It wasn’t a game really, wasn’t anything to it, but we love it, I guess because our mothers didn’t like it. A lot of little girls joined hands and went around in a circle chanting, ‘‘Shake, shake, shake, for the batter-cake.’’ Then you’d drop hands and shake your-self all over. When you got through shaking, you’d join hands again and start all over again. Some children said, ‘‘Shake, shake, shake, for the good egg bread.’’ VI. Then there was the game that everybody knows I guess. One person went around and took something from all the children who were going to play [?] game. Maybe he’d take a handkerchief from you, a button from me—anything that you had to give him as a pawn. One child sat in the center and the one who collected the pawns stood over the one in the center. He held one of the pawns in his closed hand over the one sitting down and said, Child ‘‘Heavy, heavy hangs over your head.’’ standing: Child ‘‘Fine or super-ﬁne?’’ sitting: Child ‘‘Fine (or super-ﬁne, depending upon what the object was) standing: ‘‘What shall the owner of this pawn do?’’ The child who was sitting would name some task or feat and then the child who was standing would open his hand and the owner of the pawn would be identiﬁed and would have to do the thing requested. It the owner refused or could not do what was asked, he would have to pay a ﬁne of some kind. A RIDDLE. Here’s a riddle: ‘‘The black men live in the red men’s house, The red men live in the pink men’s house, The pink men live in the white man’s house, The white men live in the green men’s house. What is it?’’ A.: A watermelon; the seeds being the black men, the center being the red men, the outer edge of the meat being the pink men, the white men being the white part of the rind, and the green men being the outer rind. Source: New York, October, 1938. Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

94. Afternoon in a Pushcart Peddler’s Colony, December 1938 FRANK BYRD Work Progress Administration writer Frank Byrd gathered stories from various places, including New York. This report is about a shanty town along the banks of an uptown river.

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It was snowing and, shortly after noontime, the snow changed to sleet and beat a tattoo against the rocks and board shacks that had been carelessly thrown together on the west bank of the Harlem. It was windy too and the cold blasts that came in from the river sent the men shivering for cover behind their shacks where some of them had built huge bonﬁres toward off the icy chills that swept down from the hills above. Some of them, unable to stand it any longer, went below into the crudely furnished cabins that were located in the holds of some old abandoned barges that lay half in, half out of the water. But the men did not seem to mind. Even the rotting barges afforded them some kind of shelter. It was certainly better than nothing, not to mention the fact that it was their home; address, the foot of 133rd Street at Park Avenue on the west bank of the Harlem River; depression residence of a little band of part-time pushcart peddlers whose cooperative colony is one of the most unique in the history of New York City. These men earn their living by cruising the streets long before daylight, collecting old automobile parts, pasteboard, paper, rags, rubber, magazines, brass, iron, steal, old clothes or anything they can ﬁnd that is saleable as junk. They wheel their little pushcarts around exploring cellars, garbage cans and refuse heaps. When they have a load, they turn their footsteps in the direction of the American Junk Dealers, Inc., whose site of wholesale and retail operations is located directly opposite the pushcart colony at 134th Street and Park Avenue. Of the ﬁfty odd colonists, many are ex-carpenters, painters, brick-masons, auto-mechanics, upholsterers, plumbers and even an artist or two. Most of the things the men collect they sell, but once in awhile they run across something useful to themselves, like auto parts, pieces of wire, or any electrical equipment, especially in view of the fact that there are two or three electrical engineers in the group. Joe Elder, a tall, serious-minded Negro, was the founder of the group that is ofﬁcially known as the National Negro Civil Association. Under his supervision, electrically inclined members of the group set up a complete power plant that supplied all the barges and shacks with electric light. It was constructed with an old automobile engine and an electrical generator bought from the City of New York. For a long time it worked perfectly. After awhile, when a city inspector came around, he condemned it and the shacks were temporarily without light. It was just as well, perhaps, since part of the colony was forced to vacate the site in order to make room for a mooring spot for a coal company that rented a section of the waterfront. A rather modern and up-to-date community hall remains on the site, however. One section of it is known as the gymnasium and many pieces of apparatus are to be found there. There are also original oil paintings in the other sections known as the library and recreation room. Here, one is amazed (to say the least) by the comfortable divans, lounges, bookshelves and, of all things, a drinking fountain. The water is purchased from the City and pumped directly to the hall and barges by a homemade, electrically motored pump. In the recreation room there are also three pianos. On cold nights when the men want companionship and relaxation, they bring the women there and dance to the accompaniment of typical Harlem jazz … jazz that is also supplied by fellow colonists. (For what Negro is there who is not able to extract a tune of some sort from every known instrument?) After being introduced to some of the boys, we went down into Oliver’s barge. It was shaky, weather-beaten and sprawling, like the other half-dozen that surrounded

94. Afternoon in a Pushcart Peddler’s Colony, December 1938

it. Inside, he had set up an old iron range and attached a pipe to it that carried the smoke out and above the upper deck. On top of the iron grating that had been laid across the open hole on the back of the stove were some spare-ribs that had been generously seasoned with salt, pepper, sage and hot-sauce. Later I discovered a faint ﬂavor of mace in them. The small and pungency of spices ﬁlled the low ceilinged room with an appetizing aroma. The faces of the men were alight and hopeful with anticipation. There was no real cause for worry, however, since Oliver had more than enough for everybody. Soon he began passing out tin plates for everyone. It makes my mouth water just to think of it. When we had gobbled up everything in sight, all of us sat back in restful contemplation pufﬁng on our freshly lighted cigarettes. Afterwards there was conversation, things the men elected to talk about of their own accord. ‘‘You know one thing,’’ Oliver began, ‘‘ain’t nothin’ like a man being his own boss. Now take today, here we is wit’ plenty to eat, ha’f a jug of co’n between us and nairy a woman to fuss aroun’ wantin’ to wash up dishes or mess aroun’ befo’ duh grub gits a chance to settle good.’’ ‘‘Dat sho is right,’’ Evans Drake agreed. He was Oliver’s helper when there were trucks to be repaired. ‘‘A ‘oman ain’t good fuh nuthin’ but one thing.’’ The conversation drifted along until I was ﬁnally able to ease in a query or two. ‘‘Boys,’’ I ventured, ‘‘how is it that none of you ever got on Home Relief? You can get a little grub out of it, at least, and that would take a little of the load off you, wouldn’t it?’’ At this they all rose up in unanimous protest. ‘‘Lis’en,’’ one of them said, ‘‘befo’ I’d take Home Relief I’d go out in duh street an’ hit same bastard oveh de haid an’ take myse’f some’n’. I know one uv duh boys who tried to git it an’ one of dem uppity little college boys ovah dere talked tuh him lak he was some damn jailbird or some’n’. If it had been me, I’d a bust hell outn’ him an’ walked outa duh place. What duh hell do we wants wid relief anyhow? We is all able-bodied mens an’ can take it. We can make our own livin’s.’’ This, apparently, was the attitude of every man there. They seemed to take ﬁerce pride in the fact that every member of Joe Elder’s National Negro Civil Association (it used to be called the National Negro Boat Terminal) was entirely self-supporting. They even had their own unemployment insurance fund that provided an income for any member of the group who was ill and unable to work. Each week the men give a small part of their earnings toward this common fund and automatically agree to allow a certain amount to any temporarily incapacitated member. In addition to that, they divide among themselves their ill brother’s work and provide a day and night attendant near his shack if his illness is at all serious. After chatting awhile longer with them, I ﬁnally decided to leave. ‘‘Well boys,’’ I said, getting up, ‘‘I guess I’ll have to be shoving off. Thanks, a lot, for the ribs. See you again sometime.’’ Before leaving, however, I gave them a couple of packs of cigarettes I had on me in part payment for my dinner. ‘‘O. K.’’ they said. ‘‘Come ovah ag’in some time. Some Sat’d’y. Maybe we’ll have a few broads (women) and a little co’n.’’ ‘‘Thanks.’’

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Outside the snow and sleet had turned to rain and the snow that had been feathery and white was running down the river bank in brown rivulets of slush and mud. It was a little warmer but the damp air still had a penetrating sharpness to it. I shuddered, wrapped my mufﬂer a little tighter and turned my coat collar up about my ears. There was wind in the rain, and behind me lay the jagged outline of the ramshackle dwellings. I hated to think of what it would be like, living in them when there was a scarcity of wood or when the ﬁres went out. Source: Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

95. Matt Henson, North Pole explorer retires, 1938–1939 THEODORE POSTON In 1877, African American explorer Matt Henson met Rear Admiral Robert Perry in Washington, D.C.. Decades later, a New York reporter tells Henderson’s story about Henderson’s own mad dash for the North Pole on an expedition headed by Admiral Peary. There was little work that morning in the Chief Clerk’s Ofﬁce of the U.S. Custom House in New York City. The whole staff was gathered, for the last time, around the desk of the genial and unassuming little man who had worked there for 23 years. For Matt Henson, sole survivor of Peary’s dash to the North Pole, was retiring from government service that day—on a clerk’s pension. A few reporters had dropped in to record the occasion. Friends from Harlem and other parts of the city had come down also. One by one they assured the bald headed but erect one-time explorer that they would continue the ﬁght for Congressional recognition of his deed. And Matt Henson thanked them and turned to bid the staff farewell. The reporters asked questions. Reluctantly, Henson answered. He displayed no bitterness against a government which had heaped undying honors on the late Rear Admiral Robert E. Peary and completely ignored the only other American to reach the pole. Of the proposed Congressional pension, repeatedly denied him, he said: ‘‘I could use the money. I think that I deserve it. But I will never ask the government nor anybody else for anything. I have worked sixty of the seventy years of my life, so I guess I can make out on the $87.27 a month pension I’ve earned here.’’ Negro leaders had not been so philosophical however. For a quarter of a century they had demanded ofﬁcial recognition and a commensurate pension for Mr. Henson. Through their efforts six bills had been introduced in Congress. All died in committee. Congressman Arthur W. Mitchell resurrected the ﬁght in 1935. Scores of prominent Negroes appeared before the House committee to support the bill which asked for a gold medal and a $2,500 pension. They pointed out that the late Rear Admiral Peary had been awarded a $6,500 pension and a Congressional medal. They recalled that Henson had twice saved Peary’s life. They charged that Henson’s race was his only barrier to recognition. The House passed the bill. The Senate killed it. At the prompting of the reporters, Matt Henson again described their arrival at the North Pole on April 6, 1909, the culmination of a nineteen-year struggle on

95. Matt Henson, North Pole explorer retires, 1938–1939

their part. Together he and Peary had made eight expeditions into the artic regions, and ﬁve unsuccessful dashes for the pole. Twice a helpless Peary had been brought back to civilization by his Negro companion—once when his feet were frozen and again when he was stricken by pneumonia. For the last time in the Custom House surroundings, Mr. Henson recalled the climax of the ﬁnal dash which had started July 8, 1908. As trail breaker for the party which included the two Americans and four Eskimos, the Negro had been the ﬁrst to arrive at the pole. ‘‘When the compass started to go crazy,’’ he recalled, ‘‘I sat down to wait for Mr. Peary. He arrived about forty-ﬁve minutes later, and we prepared to wait for the dawn to check our exact positions. Mr. Peary pulled off his boots and warmed his feet on my stomach. We always did that before going to bed up there.’’ The next morning when their positions had been veriﬁed, Peary said: ‘‘Matt, we’ve reached the North Pole at last.’’ With his exhausted leader looking on, Henson planted the American ﬂag in the barren area. ‘‘That was the happiest moment of my life,’’ Mr. Henson said. Henson’s early life ﬁtted him admirably for the hardships he was to undergo with Peary. Born in Charles County, Maryland, in 1866, he was orphaned at the age of four. When he was nine, he ran away from his foster parents and signed up as a cabin boy on the old sailing vessel Katie Hines. A few years later, the Katie Hines was ice-bound for several months in the Baltic Sea. ‘‘That was my ﬁrst experience with bitter cold,’’ he recalled, ‘‘and it sure came in handy later.’’ Peary met Henson in 1887 when the latter was working in a store in Washington. Informed of the youth’s love of travel, the explorer offered him a job on a surveying expedition in South America. Henson accepted and for twenty-two years, the two men were never separated. Criticized for taking a Negro with him on his dash to the pole (his critics held that he was afraid that a white man might steal some of his prestige), Peary once said: ‘‘Matt was a better man than any of my white assistants. He made all our sleds. He was popular with the Eskimos. He could talk their language like a native. He was the greatest man living for handling dogs. I couldn’t get along without him.’’ Despite this tribute, however, and a glowing forward to Henson’s book, ‘‘Negro Explorer at the North Pole,’’ Peary never publicly joined the forces which fought for Congressional recognition of his Negro assistant, Henson recalled. ‘‘Mr. Peary was a hard man like that,’’ the assistant said, ‘‘He didn’t want to share his honor and his glory with anybody. He wanted everything for himself and his family. So, according to his lights, I guess he felt justiﬁed.’’ The Chief Clerk came over and shook his hand, his fellow workers gathered around to present him with several small mementos, and Matt Henson bade his friends farewell. When he walked from the room, he had ended the only recognition the government had given him for his deed. For President Taft had appointed him a clerk in the Customs Service for life. Source: N.Y. Post, 1938–9. Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

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96. Midlothian, Illinois: A Folklore in the Making, 1939 ALFRED O. PHILLIPP In the early years of the twentieth century, Midlothian, Illinois, became home to one of the ﬁrst communities of suburban Negroes. It was a new racial-social phenomenon. The tenement dwelling city Negro and the plantation Negro were comparatively well known. Residents of Midlothian were true Negro suburbanites in this southwest suburb of Chicago, which was inhabited and run exclusively by Negroes. The village was incorporated in 1917, and was named after Eugene S. Midlothian, a realtor and developer. It was situated directly southwest of the city of Blue Island, and was approximately one mile west of Western Avenue at 139th Street. It has an area of more than four square miles, and the boundary limits are: on the north, 135th Street; on the south, 141 Street; on the east, Sacramento Avenue; and on the west, Central Park Avenue. The population was about 2,250 in this town of black citizens, one of many that sprang up in the Midwest. The village ofﬁcialdom comprises a Mayor and a Board of Trustees, the latter being six in number. All are Negros. There is a police department, a ﬁre department, (volunteer, but possessing a standard ﬁre truck) a post ofﬁce, and a ﬁne grade school,—all named by Negroes. Claire Boulevard (formerly Rexford Road) is the connecting highway between the Midlothian Turnpike and Crawford Ave., and runs directly through the center of the village. Here the dusky village caps, equipped with speedy motorcycles, are ever alert and constantly on duty; and unwary speeders along this highway contribute very largely to the coffers of the village treasury. The town also has its business aspects; although there are no Lions, Rotarians, or other high-pressure groups of go-getters. There are grocery stores, barber shops, ﬁlling stations; beauty parlors, and taverns; about in the same proportions as in the average town of two thousand population. But the total volume of business is low, for the chain stores in Midlothian and Blue Island got most of the grocery trade, while the bargain counters of Chicago are also within easy commuting distance. In the department of religion Midlothian is outstanding, for the town boasts sixteen churches; although there is little ground for boasting when considering these temples of the Lord from the standpoint of architectural beauty. The principal seats are—Baptist, Methodist, Seven Day Adventist, and Church of God in Christ. There are no Catholic or Episcopal churches, but a small group of Midlothian Negro Catholics attend services at the St, Christopher’s Church, in Midlothian. There are eighteen ‘‘regular’’ ministers in Midlothian (sixteen of them are on relief or W. P. A.) and a number of ‘‘preachers’’ and ‘‘deacons’’ of no recognized standing except an purveyors of Bible lore and ‘‘bringers of light.’’ As might be supposed from the preponderance of churches there is practically no lodge activity in Midlothian, the church having supplanted the lodge. This may be explained by the fact that from seventy to eighty per cent of the population is on relief. And lodges cost money, whereas religion (as practised in Midlothian) is almost as free as the air. Despite reports of various ‘‘Surveys’’ there is no ‘‘Alpha and Omega Masonic Club’’ in Midlothian, nor any other ofﬁcial A. F. & A. M. organization. There are a few Masons, mostly elderly men who in better days were employed in well paying occupations. There are no jazz clubs, swing bands, or night clubs; and

96. Midlothian, Illinois: A Folklore in the Making, 1939

such limited social activities as prevail are strictly those of a small home-loving community. For, as previously stated, the Midlothian’ Negro is a true suburbanite and has little in common with the Harlan swingster or the South Side night club devotee. The ladies have an organization which staggers along under the cumbreus load of two different names, i. e. - The Community Welfare Club, and The Women’s Improvement Club. They meet every Friday, the place of assembly being the parlor of a member’s home. The village girls of about high school age have a fast softball team which functions in natty romper-style uniforms of vivid green. The village grade school, an excellent brick ediﬁce aptly named after the Great Emancipator—‘‘The Abraham Lincoln School’’—is located on 139th. St. just west of Claire Boulevard. It is presided over by eight colored teachers, and has an average attendance of about 500 pupils. The town has no newspaper of its own, but there is a local agent for the Chicago Defender. The village has deﬁnite topographical advantages, being a level terrain dotted with four park-like lagoons. These are not abandoned quarries, or clay holes, but natural ponds. Thus the town has all the natural facilities for beautiful landscaping, despite the prevalence of shanties and dilapidated houses which mar its potential beauty. One Federal Writer (N. Hoen) tersely describes Midlothian as follows: ‘‘The side streets are mudholes. The general appearance of the town is characteristic of a Negro settlement.’’ The implication being, of course, that shabby houses and shanties are Negro characteristics. Let me repudiate this insinuation most emphatically. Shanties and dilapidated houses are not racial characteristics, but economic factors. Poor people all over the world (regardless of race or color) live in hovels and inferior dwellings; while rich people live in ﬁne houses. And the Midlothian Negro is striving mightily, under the most adverse economic conditions, to create a home for himself in a community of his own race. And he merits no little credit for his efforts. After this outburst of applause I take the liberty of extending a little criticism to my Midlothian friends:—they might have exerted themselves a little more in the way of weed eradication and tree planting. Whence came the Midlothian Negro? Well, many of them are naturally from Chicago’s teeming south side. They were motivated by the same objectives that prompt the white apartment dweller to throw his accumulated rent receipts into the landlords face as a ﬁnal gesture of deﬁance and release, and [hie?] himself to a little home in the suburbs. A humble dwelling with a small plot of ground to raise corn, carnations, cabbages, and carrots; a few chickens; a luscious goose or two; and perhaps a shoat to fatten for next minter’s larder. This is the perennial dream of the insipient surburbanite. But the Chicago suburban developments were restricted, and Negros more rigidly barred. Then, in 1917, Eugene S. Midlothian subdivided this area and incorporated it for the express purpose of providing a Chicago suburban village for the colored people. The Negros of Chicago were not slow to grasp the opportunity. Some of then were workers skilled in the building trades, there was an ex-Pullman porter or two, many common laborers, a few college graduates, and a sprinkling of share croppers and plantation hands fresh from the south. Some purchased modest dwellings hastily erected by the real estate ﬁrm, while many could only muster the down payment for a lot. As there were no building restrictions these latter suburban aspirants haphazardly gathered a quantity of second-hand lumbers (perhaps some old car siding) some sheet tin, some cheap rooﬁng paper, and assembled what was merely intended to be a temporary abode. Later, when they

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worked and saved a little money, they would build ‘‘real’’ homes. Certainly it was not their fault that these fond hopes were but infrequently cunsumated. Thus we ﬁnd in Midlothian a conglomerate of various Negro elements. And in this melting pot of Suburbia these diverse elements are being welded into a deﬁnate type—the suburban Negro. That this classiﬁcation has already assumed a concrete form is quite evident. A Chicago city Negro meets a friend from Midlothian and the following jovial dialogues ensues: ‘‘Hi yah, plow chauffeur,’’ greets the Chicagoan. ‘‘G’long, yo’ ﬂat-footed State Street Susie Q, ‘‘answers the suburbanite. ‘‘G’wan, yo’ Midlothian hayseed.’’ Source: Midlothian, Illinois: 1939. Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

97. Cocktail Party: Personal Experience, Harlem Hostess, 1939 DOROTHY WEST Writer Dorothy West covered local social events in Harlem, as exempliﬁed by this report she ﬁled with the Works Progress Administration, a part of President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal. The party was on the ﬁfth ﬂoor of a Harlem apartment building, but even as we entered the lower hall, we could hear the shouts and laughter. It was a successful party then, for, judging by the volume of voices, the four-room ﬂat was packed. That meant that all invitations had been accepted. The elevator bore us up and let us out. Our smiling hostess stood in her open door. Behind her was a surge of vari-colored faces, the warm white of fair Negroes, the pale white of whites, through yellows and browns to rusty black. We brushed cheeks with our hostess, and our mutual coos of endearment fell on the already false air. We entered the smoke-thickened room, brushed cheeks with a few more people, shook hands with some others, and followed our hostess into the bedroom. A visiting Fisk professor, already bored with the party, had got his length somehow into a boudoir chair and sat pulling on his pipe. He could not leave because he had come with his wife, who would not leave until all the important people had come. Gloomily he uncoiled himself when we entered and, after greetings, assured his hostess in sepulchral tones that he was perfectly happy. We laid our coats as carefully as we could on the pile of wraps on the bed. Our hostess ﬁngered a soft brown fur. ‘‘Mink,’’ she sighed. ‘‘Real Mink.’’ She blew on it for our inspection, then rubbed a fold of it over her rump. ‘‘The closest I’ll ever get to it, I guess.’’ She was on the city payroll, had graduated from a ﬁrst-class Negro College, belonged to a good sorority, had married respectably, and was now entrenching herself in New York Negro Society. There had been one or two ﬂamboyant indiscretions in her past, and so every once in awhile, to assure herself and her home town that she had lived them down, she entertained at a lavish party. She was not yet sufﬁciently secure to give a small affair. And of all the people lapping up her liquor, hardly one would have come to an intimate dinner. As yet it was necessary for her to give large, publicized affairs. so that everyone felt bound to come out of fear that it might be thought he was not invited. As we

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returned to the main room, a woman in cap and apron shufﬂed up, inexpertly balancing a tray of cocktails. We had not known that our hostess had a maid. Yet the woman’s harassed dark face was familiar. We remembered that once before, while we visited with our hostess, there had been a ring at the door and a voice had called that it was the janitor’s wife with a package, and presently this woman’s face had appeared. Our hostess found places for us on the already populated divan. We sat among acquaintances, balancing our drinks. To our left were a public school teacher, two Department of Welfare investigators, two writers, one left and one right, a ‘‘Y’’ worker, a white ﬁrst-string movie critic, a white artist and his wife. To our right were two Negro government ofﬁcials, two librarians, a judge’s daughter, a studentred-cap, a Communist organizer, an artist, an actress. There were others. In this room and in the inner room were crowded fully sixty in-coming and out-going people. With the exception of the Communist organizer, all of the Negroes were members of Harlem society. Some of their backgrounds began with their marriages or their professions. One or two were the unimportant offspring of earnest men who had carved small niches in the hall of fame. Two or three were as celebrated as their fathers. Some of them were well-to-do, most particularly where both husband and wife held well paid jobs. Others had fallen on lean times, but family connections and Home Relief kept them in circulation. The women in general were light-colored, one of the phenomena of Negro society. Their dress was smart, their make-up skillful. The men were varying colors and soberly dressed. Our hostess had no reputation as a conversationalist, and our host, of better reputation where social talk was concerned, was already in his cups. There was no attempt by either to marshal their guests into interesting groups. The crowd was too unwieldy, and our hostess had only probed beneath the surface of a halfdozen men who thought her pretty. She could only dump a newcomer into whatever space was available, and introduce him to the nearest of the sitters. Whereupon the ensuing conversation was either polite or ﬂirtatious, depending upon sex and preference. When a friend found a friend’s face in the crowd, navigation was too difﬁcult, and the greetings was conﬁned to a shouted, ‘‘How are you?’’ We listened to line conversation around us. A tall unattractive girl on our right had assumed an affected pose. She languished on the divan and blew puffs of smoke through a cigarette holder. Her large foot pivoted on its ankle. She surveyed it dreamily. Her father was a man of importance, and although she had neither beauty nor charm, she had constituted herself the year’s number one Negro debutante. The young [leftist?] writer was talking to her around our backs. He had brought her to the party. Generally one of the artist group squired her. They were indifferent to her lack of prettiness and liked her father’s liquor. She boasted of her escorts to her listeners who expressed no envy. They were quite content with their younger beaux who were marrying men. The writer said, ‘‘Will you serve as a sponsor for the dinner then? Your name will look good on the stationery. I can come up tomorrow and go over a guest list with you.’’ She smiled at the toe that protruded through the space in her shoe for its protuberance. ‘‘I’ve two other dinners that week, you know. Three will give me such a crowded calendar. But for you—, and your guest of honor is quite celebrated, isn’t he?’’

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‘‘Very,’’ he said enthusiastically. ‘‘He’s been in the papers and a lot. The critics rave about him. I’m going to read his book as soon as he gives me the copy he promised me.’’ ‘‘I’ll expect you tomorrow night,’’ she said, ‘‘Come at dinner time. Father will want you to sample his latest concoction. Keep the rest of the evening free, will you? My sorority is - ah - having a dance at the Renaissance. There’s no tax, Maybe you’d like to look in.’’ ‘‘I’d love to,’’ he exclaimed, ‘‘but I can’t! I’ve a meeting at nine, important. Anyway,’’ he added helpfully, ‘‘I haven’t got a tux.’’ Her eyes returned to her toe, but this time they were sorrowful. Cocktails, little sausages on toothpicks, black and green olives, cheeses with crisp little crackers, two-inch sandwiches, went in continuous ﬁle around the room. Our hostess had a ﬁne array of liquor with impressive labels on the improvised bar. Once she had recommended her bootlegger to us, but we had stopped his visits when we found his labels were often not yet dry and no two like bottles had similar tastes. Since most of the people were connoisseurs no more than we were, they [eagerly?] drank the badly cut liquor and got high. The actress, from a chair-backed hassock, surveyed the room with disdain. She was playing in a downtown hit! Her hair went up and her nose turned up, and even her lips was slightly curled. She was lightskinned and lovely and remote as a queen among her subjects. Ten years ago she had been a gamin and her accent had been Harlem. Now offstage she was indistinguishable from a throaty Englishman. We bent to ﬂick our ashes in the tray she was holding in a graceful hand, our mouths open for a pretty compliment. She withdrew her hand in horror and we let our ashes fall on the ﬂoor. Her eyes asked us elegantly, ‘‘Have we met?’’ The white movie critic started toward her, the white artist’s wife on his arm. The actress smiled and smiled. The woman said, ‘‘My husband and I saw your show last night. We thought you were marvelous.’’ ‘‘How kind!’’ said the actress. ‘‘My paper gave you quite a plug,’’ said the movie critic proudly. The actress smiled and smiled again. All of them beamed at each other. ‘‘I’m so-o-o sorry,’’ the actress murmured, ‘‘that we haven’t been introduced. May I have the pleasure of your acquaintance?’’ The movie critic told her his name and introduced the artist’s wife. In a moment they were as chatty as old friends. We had come at a late hour, and when it was an hour past the scheduled time for the party’s end, the crowd gradually began to thin. Our hostess’s hair-up had drifted down and her trailing gown had been trampled on. She struck a graceful pose at the door, and her meticulous phrases sped each departing guest. We had not seen our hostess in several months. She urged us to stay for a little chat. When the last guest had gone, she dispatched her husband and the janitor’s wife with borrowed chairs and hassocks and end tables and ashtrays to various ﬂats in the house. She sat down, shook her shoes off, and pulled the rest of her hair down. She lifted her arms and wrinkled her nose. ‘‘I put four on the card, ‘cause I know colored folks, and I knew they’d start coming around six. I didn’t even plan to take my bath until ﬁve. I start sweating so quick. And then at four sharp here come two white folks. I forgot they don’t keep

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c. p. time. Well, I jumped into this, and did my hair and face, and I know they thought my party was a ﬂop, because nobody else came until around ﬁve, and they left before six.’’ We said it was the best attended party we’d been to in a long time. She fanned herself under the arms. ‘‘It was kinda nice, wasn’t it?’’ she agreed. Then she chuckled softly. ‘‘You notice how Doctor Brown’s wife kept looking at me? She knows he likes me. She only came to keep her eye on him. She’d have to go some to keep her eye on me! You notice that good-looking chap with his wife, one wore the sleazy green dress?’’ She smiled meaningfully. ‘‘Well, she’s just up for the holidays, but he’s here for the winter.’’ The janitor’s wife came back. She was frankly dragging now. Her cap was at a comic angle, but she did not look funny. She stood respectfully before our hostess. I could see that one of her shoe-laces was black and the other was white, ink-stained black. ‘‘I’ll see you Saturday?,’’ said our hostess to her cheerfully, though this was Sunday. ‘‘That all right? I won’t have a penny until then. Pouring liquor down all these darkies cost a lot. They’ll talk about you if your drinks are scarce. Saturday noon, I’ll see you, Flora.’’ The woman covered her embarrassment with a painful smile. ‘‘That’s all right,’’ she said. She turned to go. When she reached the door, our hostess jumped up suddenly, called to her to wait, rummaged in her bathroom, returned and thrust some silk pieces in the woman’s hands. ‘‘Will you do these for me, Flora? I’ll pick them up Saturday when I pay you.’’ When the door shut behind Flora, our hostess came back and said triumphantly, ‘‘I’ll give her a few cents extra, and I’ll save a dollar’s washing. We’re going to two affairs this week, and that dollar’ll mean taxi fare. I hate to come home late at night in a subway with a lot of funny looking derelicts.’’ We said we hadn’t been anywhere in weeks and hoped that she’d have a good time. Our hostess said we ought to get out more, and she tried to interest us in the affairs she was planning to attend. One was for Spain, the other for China, both causes worth supporting. She spoke with feeling of the pogroms in Germany. It was obvious that she kept abreast of the international situation. We asked her what she thought of the Gaines decision. She said she hadn’t seen any reference to it in her paper, and she read the paper daily. We said it had been given front page space in the Negro weeklies for the past two weeks. She laughed and answered that she only read the society pages of the Negro papers because of their poor journalism. The society reporters were no better, but at least you kept up with what the darkies were doing. As an afterthought she asked us what the Gaines decision was. We explained that it was a Supreme Court Decision whereby a [southern?] state must either admit a Negro student to its university or build a university of equal standards for him. She laughed and said she hoped they’d build one. She was tired of her present job and she was a qualiﬁed teacher. She’d like to go South a teach a group of goodlooking male students.

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Her husband returned. It was obvious that he had had another drink or two in somebody’s ﬂat. It had made him hungry. ‘‘Any food, female?’’ he addressed his wife. ‘‘None of these scraps.’’ He surveyed with distaste the dainty sandwiches. ‘‘Got any greens left?’’ ‘‘Greens and spare ribs, have some with us?’’ she asked. We thanked her but said we really should go. Her husband looked at us a little belligerently. He was born in the South, and he said that he yearned for it, but he never got any farther than his government job in Washington even on holidays. ‘‘You don’t like colored folks cooking?’’ he asked. We said that we loved greens and spare ribs and named all the other [southern?] dishes and said that we loved them, too. He smiled at us paternally and said that he wished we were all down South, celebrating the New Year right, with black-eyed peas and hoghead. ‘‘My mother,’’ he reminisced happily, ‘‘would turn her house inside out for my friends. You folks up North got a lot to learn about hospitality. You all buy a quart of gin, a box of crackers, and a bottle of olives, and throw a couple of white folks in, and call it a cocktail party.’’ Our hostess stood in her stocking feet and drew herself up grandly. ‘‘You’re drunk,’’ she said coldly. ‘‘Go and eat.’’ Gravely he bade us goodnight and walked away with unsteady dignity. Our hostess went to the door with us in her stocking feet. Again we thanked her for a lovely party. She surveyed her tumbled rooms complacently. ‘‘I’ll clean up and take a bath, and turn on the radio and do my paper. I’m speaking Wednesday at the Young Matrons’ meeting. I’m going to talk on the evil of anti-Semitism. There is some anti-Semitism in Harlem which should be scorched at the start. How you like that for a subject? We told her we didn’t think there was any anti-Semitism in Harlem as such. There was only the poor man’s resentment of exploitation by the rich. It was incidental that in this particular instance that one was black and one was Jewish. Black workers and Jewish workers did not hate each other. ‘‘Maybe,’’ she said brightly. ‘‘But I still think it’s a good topic for a paper. Last month some dumb cluck read a paper on child care. Who can afford to have a child now anyway? I want to give ‘em a paper on something current.’’ We urged her to go and put her shoes on before she caught cold. We brushed cheeks all around. When we got back home, we wondered as usual why we had gone to a cocktail party. Source: New York, NY, 1939. Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

98. Down in the West Indies, January 1939 ELLIS WILLIAMS While much has been written about the great migration of rural blacks who ﬂed the South for new lives in northern cities in the ﬁrst part of the twentieth century, little has been written in American history books about migrants who were either ﬂeeing

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the widespread poverty among blacks in the Caribbean or were merely seeking new lives in America as so many before them had done. This piece is about an immigrant named Ellis Williams. Down in the West Indies, I am a law clerk and stenographer. I was largely dependent on my parents for existence, and because of that I am discontented with my lot. I am Aquarius, born to travel they say. The nomadic urge engulfs me. I want to leave home and the dependency of my folk. I hear and read a lot of America. People say it is a ‘‘bed of roses.’’ A fortune easy to acquire and a profession easier still. I want to go! I want to go! I am only in my teens and my parents try to discourage me. I listen to their good counsel but cannot be dissuaded. I feel that I have been a parasite on them too long. I am going even if I suffer, and there is one thing certain, if I do, they will never learn it from me. I saved my pence the lawyer paid me and booked a passage. Dad came to the rescue and furnishing me with a good cabin and placed me in the care of the captain who knows something of the family because of shipments of produce to America by the same line. The trip is uneventful. America is beautiful, but I am anxious to get adjusted and ﬁnd employment. I am assured it is only a question of time and perseverance. Encouraged, I go into the tall ofﬁce buildings on lower Fifth Avenue. I try them all. Not a ﬁrm is missed.… I walk in and offer my services.… I am black, foreign looking. My name is taken and I will be sent for in a short time. ‘‘Thank you.’’ ‘‘Good day.’’ ‘‘Oh don’t mention it.’’ I am smiled out. I never hear from them again.… Eventually I am told that this is not the way it is done in America. What typewriter do I use? Oh! … Well go to the ﬁrm that manufactures them. It maintains an employment bureau for the beneﬁt of users of their machines. There is no discrimination there, go and see them.’’ [Ere I go, I write stating my experience, etc., etc., etc., etc. In reply I get a ﬂattering letter asking me to call. I do so. The place is crowded. A sea of feminine faces disarms me. But I am no longer sensitive. I have gotten over that … long since. I grit my teeth and conﬁdently take my seat with the crowd. At the desks the clerks are busy with the telephones, ﬁlling out cards and application blanks. I am sure I am not seen. I am just one of the crowd. One by one the girls, and men too, are sent out after jobs. It has been raining. The air is foul. The girls are sweating in their war paint. They are of the type that paints their lips, pencil their brows, rouge their cheeks … ‘‘Clothes, I am going downtown; if you want to follow … hang on.’’ At last they get around to me. It is my turn. I am in front position. In order to get to me the lady is obliged to do a lot of detouring. At ﬁrst I thought she was about to go out, to go past me. But I am mistaken. She takes a seat right in front of me, a smile on her wrinkled old-maidish face. I am sure she is head of the department. It is a position that must be handled with tact and diplomacy. She does not send one of her assistants. She comes herself. She is from the Buckeye state. She tries to make me feel at home by smiling broadly in my face. ‘‘Are you Mr. … ?’’ ‘‘Yes, I am.’’ ‘‘That’s nice. How much experience you say you have had?’’ She is about to write. ‘‘I have stated that in the letter, I think. I have had …

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‘‘I worked for …’’ ‘‘Oh yes, I have it right here. Used to be secretary for a lawyer.… And you took honors in your class at school. That is interesting, isn’t it?’’ I murmur unintelligibly. ‘‘Well,’’ continues the lady, ‘‘we haven’t anything at present.…’’ ‘‘But 1 thought you said in your letter you had a position for me. I have it here with me. I hope I have not left it at home.…’’ ‘‘That position wouldn’t suit you,’’ stammering. ‘‘It, t, t, t, t, t, it is a position that requires banking experience. It is one of the largest banks in the country. Secretary to the vice-president. Ah, by the way, come to think of it, you know Mr. … of Harlem? ‘‘You do! I think his number is … Seventh Avenue. Here is one of his cards. Well if I were you I would go to see him.… Good day.’’ Dusk is on the horizon. I am once more on Fifth Avenue. I am not going to see the gentleman. The man she is sending me to was my father’s groom. January 11, 1939 Source: New York, January, 1939. Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

99. Laundry Workers, March 1939 VIVIAN MORRIS Work Progress Administration writer Vivian Morris visited a laundry where mostly black women were employed. An uninvited guest, she found a way to get inside the building where a skeptical management failed to notice her as she mingled with the workers inside. What she found offers a glimpse of the working lives of women whose stories were rarely told outside of the neighborhoods where they lived. It was just about noon, early in March, at the West End Laundry downtown in New York City where black women work in the ironing department. The foreman there eyed me suspiciously and then curtly asked me, ‘‘What you want?’’ I showed him a Laundry Workers Union card (which I borrowed from an unemployed laundry worker, in order to ensure my admittance) and told him that I used to work in this laundry and I thought I would drop in and take a friend of mine who worked there out to lunch. He squinted at the clock and said, ‘‘Foty minutes before lunchtime. Too hot in here and how. Better wait outside.’’ ‘‘But,’’ I remonstrated, ‘‘the heat doesn’t bother me. I used to work in here.’’ ‘‘Say,’’ he ignored my argument, ‘‘no ﬁshy back talk and get outside.’’ He watched me until I was out of sight and then he left the room. I promptly darted back into the ironing room where my friend worked. The clanging of metal as the pistons banged into the sockets, the hiss of steam, women wearily pushing twelve pound irons, women mechanically tending machines—one, button half of the shirt done; two, top ﬁnished; three, sleeves pressed and the shirt is ready for the ﬁnishers—that was the scene that greeted me as I stood in the laundry’s ironing department. Shirts, thousands of white shirts that produced such a dazzling glare that the women who work in this department wore dark glasses to protect their eyes. The

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heat was almost unbearable; there seemed to be gushes of damp heat pushed at you from some invisible force in the mechanism of the machine. The smooth shinyfaced women worked in silence, occasionally dropping a word here and there, slowly wiping away dripping perspiration, then back to the machines, to the heavy irons without any outward show of emotion—no protest. The morning had been long and arduous, this was Wednesday a heavy day, but thank God half the day was nearly over. The heavy, strong-armed woman paused the iron, arms unﬂexed, and glanced at the clock. She smiled. Forty-ﬁve minutes until eating time. A soft contralto voice gave vent to a hymn, a cry of protest, as only the persecuted can sing, warm, plaintive, yet with a hidden buoyancy of exultation that might escape a person who has not also felt the pathos and hopes of a downtrodden, exploited people. She sang, a triﬂe louder, ‘‘Could my tears forever ﬂow, could my zeal no languor know. Thou must save, and thou alone, these fo’ sin could not atone; In my hand no price I bring. Simply to his cross I cling.’’ The women tended their machines to the tempo of the hymn. They all joined in on the chorus, their voices blending beautifully, though untrained and unpolished they voiced the same soulful sentiment, ‘‘Rock of Ages, cleft for me. Let me hide myself in thee.’’ Stanza after stanza rang from their lips, voicing Oppression centuries old, but the song rang out that the inner struggle for real freedom still lit a ﬁery spark in the recesses of the souls of these toiling women. The song ended as it began with soft words and humming. One squat, attractive young woman, who single handedly handled three of the shirt machines, began a spirited hymn in militant tempo, with a gusto that negated the earlier attitude of fatigue the entire crew of the ironing room joined in either humming or singing. They were entering the ﬁnal hour before lunch but to judge from the speed that the song had spurred them to, you would believe they were just beginning. The perspiration dripped copiously but it was forgotten. The chorus of the hymn zoomed forth. ‘‘Dare to be a Daniel. Dare to stand alone. Dare to have a purpose ﬁrm and make it known—and make it known.’’ The woman who ﬁnishes the laces with the twelve pound iron wielded it with feathery swiftness and sang her stanza as the others hummed and put in a word here and there. ‘‘Many a mighty gal is lost darin’ not to stand … ‘‘The words of the next line were overcome by the rise in the humming, but the last line was clear and resonant … ‘‘By joinin’ Daniel’s band.’’ The chorus was ﬁlled with many pleasing ad-libs and then another took up a stanza. Finally the song died away. Then the squat machine handler said to the ﬁnisher who guided the big iron, ‘‘Come on, baby, sing ‘at song you made up by yourself. The Heavy Iron Blues.’’ Without further coaxing the girl addressed as ‘‘baby’’ cleared her throat and began singing. ‘‘I lift my iron, Lawd, heavy as a ton of nails. I lift my iron, Lawd, heavy as a ton of nails, but it pays my rent cause my man’s still layin’ in jail. Got the blues, blues, got the heavy iron blues; but my feet’s in good shoes, so doggone the heavy iron blues.’’ Then she started the second stanza which is equally as light but carried some underlying food for thought. ‘‘I lif my iron, Lawd, all the livelong day. I lif my iron, Lawd, all the livelong day, cause dat furniture bill I know I got to pay, Got the blues, blues, got the heavy iron blues, but, I pay my union dues, so doggone the heavy iron blues.’’

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There was a sound of whistles from the direction of the river and the girls dropped whatever they were doing and there were many sighs of relief. Lunchtime. March 9, 1939 Source: West End Laundry, 41st Street between 10th & 11th Avenues, New York. March, 1939. Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

100. Worker’s Alliance, May 1939 VIVIAN MORRIS The United States in the 1930s had been hurled into the worst economic depression in its history. The Work Progress Administration, a wing of the New Deal in the Roosevelt administration, ﬁnanced the recording and writing of a series of local histories. Writer Vivian Morris walked the streets of New York recording some of those voices. ‘‘Let’s git set, brothers n’ sisters; we’s got plenty a business t’have done. Time’s gittin’ late. If om chairman om callin’ the meetin’ t’order. Take you seats now, please. ‘At’s it. Brother Finance, you got yo’ records awready, I hope? An you too, Brother Membership? Let’s git settled-’at’s it.’’ The speaker was the leader of Local 30 of the Worker’s Alliance Union at 306 Lenox Avenue. ‘‘Okay, brothers an’ sisters. I calls this meetin’ in full session. First I suggests we stan’ up. Stan’ up, please. Let’s give a prayer on nis importan’ occasion, for on nis occasion we needs a bit a prayer t’help us along. ‘‘O’Lawd, we is here gathered to say a prayer unto you fo’ help an’ inspiration. We ast you to listen t’ us an’ help us what we gonna do. We needs yo’ help, Lawd, an’ ‘at’s why we startin’ this meetin’ with yo’ name, an’ offerin’ to you our hearts an our hopes. We is gathered here, all aus, black an’ white folks, in nis here organization because we is gonna do sump’n to git ourselves an’ our chil’ren food an’ cloes an’ decent lodgin’. ‘‘We’s all poor folks, Lawd; we ain’ neva had much an’ now this here relief welfare don’ give us much. We all wants t’live like human men an’ women, an’ wants our chil’ren t’be fed an clothed. We been askin’ an’askin’ at the relief station’ t’git some of us Onta relief but it’s hard t’git on. Some a us ‘at’s on is bein’ thrown off a!l; ‘at works hardships on us an’ on our chil’ren. We’s goin’ t’decide at this meetin’ whut’s gonna be done an’ whuteva we decides, We know we’s in the right fo’ We ﬁghtin’ hard fo’ our rights. Some a us is black an’ some a us is white. An’ why are we here t’gether? Because we’s all folks in a same boat. We’s got wives an’ kids an’ we unastan’ ‘at hunger ain’ yet showed no favorites between the white an’ black skins. We knows you hoI’ yo’ chil’ren in a same regard, O’Lawd, no matter whut culla they be. We ain’ used t’be gathered here like this before, fer we wuz separated before-the whites fum the blacks an’ We didn’t have no respeck fo’ each other. It’s different now. This here’s a united front because we’s all sufferin’ alike. I knows you makes no distinction, fo’ it ain’ right an’ it ain’ human. An’ we in nis organization knows that if we black people wuz t’go alone they won’t be much use, same as with the whites. They ain’ no discrimination in yo’ eyes, Lawd, an’ they ain’ none in nis here organization. We’s askin you fer yo’ blessin’s, Lawd, an’ t’keep us t’gether an’ t’help us win in nis ﬁght agens discrimination an’ agens our misery. We thanks you, Lawd, an we gives you our hearts an our hopes, Amen.

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‘‘All wright, brothers an’ sisters, let’s git started.’’ Source: Worker’s Alliance meeting, Local #30, 306 Lenox Ave., New York. May, 1939. Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

101. ‘‘Early in the Morning,’’ sung by Hollis (Fat Head) Washington, May 23–25, 1939 This is a song that was sung by Hollis (‘‘Fat Head’’) Washington, and recorded by noted musician and folklorist John A. Lomax. Washington was an inmate at Mississippi’s notorious Parchman Farm, a work camp. Early in de mornin’-oh-oh- when I Oh, marchin’ to de table I ﬁnd de same ole thing. I’m goin’ jump in de bushes, make ‘em Oh, I’m goin’ see Willie if you kill me dead. Yonder comes Sergeant, Lordy, they’re comin’ after me, I told Alberta for to cable me. Well, Arkansas City gonna be her train Ain’t got no home, ain’t got no home but a murderer’s home. Source: 1939 Southern Recording Trip Fieldnotes, Section 16: State Farms, Parchman, Mississippi; May 23–25. Library of Congress, American Folklife Center Collection.

102. ‘‘Got a Woman on the Bayou,’’ sung by Ross (Po’ Chance) Williams, Field Holler, May 23–25, 1939 This is a song sung by Ross ‘‘Po’ Chance’’ Williams, widely known as a ﬁeld holler at the State Farm work camp, Parchman, Mississippi. I got a woman up on de Bayou She’s restin’ on my mind I can’t keep from dreamin’, I can’t keep from cryin’ I done died worryin’ Oh, she wouldn’t ‘low me to die, she won’t telephone Oh, I got a woman up de Bayou, she hollerin’ an’ cryin’. Oh, she workin’ (makin’ ?) Oh, better come an’ git me— I got a woman on de Bayou, she hollerin’ an’ cryin’ Oh, I love dat baby Oh, take her down in She don’t love you, she don’t love you If I had my money an’ my forty-ﬁve big enough to die Oh, anyway, time I start, turn me ‘round Oh, anyway, time I start, I drop on down.

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Voices of the African American Experience Source: 1939 Southern Recording Trip Fieldnotes, Section 16: State Farms, Parchman, Mississippi; May 23–25. Library of Congress, American Folklife Center Collection.

103. ‘‘If She Don’t Come on de Big Boat,’’ sung by W. D. (Alabama) Stewart, Field Holler, May 23–25, 1939 This is part of a song that was sung by W. D. ‘‘Alabama’’ Stewart, a ﬁeld holler, or work chant, at the State Farm work camp, Parchman, Mississippi. Hey, baby, I’m lookin’ for a woman called Kathleen, If she don’t come on de big boat, she better not come I’m goin’ ﬁnd dat baby an’ cut her nappin’ (?) I want you to look at You done packed up yo suitcase an’ gone Hey, well, O Cap’n, you mighty mean to be so green I’m goin’ an’ die. If I call dat baby, she don’t come Oh, Lord have mercy, dat won’t help her none Stayed in de Delta bottom. Source: 1939 Southern Recording Trip Fieldnotes, Section 16: State Farms, Parchman, Mississippi; May 23–25. Library of Congress, American Folklife Center Collection.

104. Jim Cole, Negro Packinghouse Worker, July 1939 BETTY BURKE In Chicago, one of the places African American workers who came north from the rural south found steady work was in the thriving meat packing business. This is the story of these workers, as told by one named Jim Cole to a WPA worker in Chicago. I’m working in the Beef Kill section. Butcher on the chain. Been in the place twenty years, I believe. You got to have a certain amount of skill to do the job I’m doing. Long ago, I wanted to join the AFL union, the Amalgamated Butchers and Meat Cutters, they called it and wouldn’t take me. Wouldn’t let me in the union. Never said it to my face, but reason of it was plain. Negro. That’s it. Just didn’t want a Negro man to have what he should. That’s wrong. You know that’s wrong. Long about 1937 the CIO come. Well, I tell you, we Negroes was glad to see it come. Well, you know, sometimes the bosses, or either the company stooges try to keep the white boys from joining the union. They say, ‘‘you don’t want to belong to a black man’s organization. That’s all the CIO is.’’ Don’t fool nobody, but they got to lie, spread lyin’ words around. There’s a many different people, talkin’ different speech, can’t understand English very well, we have to have us union interpreters for lots of our members, but that don’t make no mind, they all friends in the union, even if they can’t say nothin’ except ‘‘Brother,’’ an’ shake hands. Well, my own local, we elected our ofﬁcers and it’s the same all over. We try to get every people represented. President of the local, he’s Negro. First V. President,

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he’s Polish. Second V. President, he’s Irish. Other ofﬁcers, Scotchman, Lithuanian, Negro, German. Well, I mean the people in the yards waited a [long?] while for the CIO. When they began organizing in the Steel towns, you know, and out in South Chicago, everybody wanted to know when the CIO was coming out to the yards. Twelve, fourteen men started it, meeting in back of a saloon on Ashland, [talking?] over what to do, ﬁrst part of 1937. Some of my friends are charter members, well I got in too late. Union asked for 15 extra men on the killing ﬂoor, on the chain. Company had enough work for them, just tried to make us carry the load. After we had a stoppage, our union stewards went up to the ofﬁces of the company and talked turkey. We got the extra help. I don’t care if the union don’t do another lick of work raisin’ our pay, or settling grievances about anything, I’ll always believe they done the greatest thing in the world gettin’ everybody who works in the yards together, and [breakin’?] up the hate and bad feelings that used to be held against the Negro. We all doing our work now, nothing but good to say about the CIO. Source: Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

105. Negro Life on a Farm, Mary Johnson, October 27, 1939 MRS. INA B. HAWKES In the rural south, a Works Progress Administration worker named Ina B. Hawkes interviewed Mary Johnson in a dilapidated shanty in Athens, Georgia. The shack had wobbly bannisters, decorated with a couple of torn quilts and a worn out mattress, several chinaberry trees and some widely scattered patches of dry grass in the yard, best describes Aunt Celia’s home in Athens, Ga. As I approached that little alcove faint humming tunes of an old slavery song became quite audible. At the door I hesitated a moment then knocked. The humming stopped; Aunt Celia, with a bedraggled broom in one hand, answered. ‘‘Lawdy me, Miss! You scairt me near to death. Is dere sumpin I can do for you?’’ ‘‘Well, Aunt Ceila, it looks like you are too busy to do what I want,’’ I answered. ‘‘Lawd Miss! I’se done got all [dese?] ﬂo’s scoured an’ de windows washed an’ ev’ything out sunning. We kin sit rat here in de sunshine and you kin tell me what you want. I’se gona rest a little while now till dese ﬂo’s dry and den I’se gona ﬁx me some dinner.’’ After we walked out under the tree and sat on an old bench she continued, ‘‘Tell me something ob what you want Miss.’’ ‘‘Well, I said, ‘‘Aunty, I would like for you to tell me something of your life.’’ ‘‘All right if I kin remember sumpin to tell you dat will do some good.’’ I looked at Aunt Ceila as she sat down. She was 78 years of age, but active and very pleasant to talk with. She was a short stout woman with a large goiter on the outside of her neck. Her hair was a little streaked with gray. Her hands were wrinkled from the strong soapy water she had been using to clean her windows. She looked at me and continued, ‘‘I know you think I looks a sight, Miss, but you know folks kaint stay clean doin’ house cleanin’ lak dis. I was born de second year after de surrender. We all was big farmers and had to work hard; us chillun would go to de ﬁeld. At dinner time ma would bring our dinner and a big pail of water fo’ us. We crawled up under de

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wagon to git in de shade. Pa would be tired, too, but he’d ﬁnally say, ‘Come on out kids, lets go back to de ﬁelds now. [We’se?] done rested long enuff.’ ‘‘My school days was short ‘cause we was po’ folks an’ had to work. Co’se Miss, us had plenty to eat and some clo’s. ‘‘We lived close to Mr. William Henry Morton. I was getting up pretty good size an’ Mr. Morton had a boy workin’ fo’ him dat he sho did lak. He got to noticin’ me. I laked him too. Mr. Morton noticed us an’ he knowed I was a smart gal, so he got us married right dere in his own house. He give us a small house to live in an’ a mule an’ cow an’ some farm tools to work with. ‘‘I started right out to havin’ babies, but I was stout as a mule an’ went to de ﬁelds just de same an’ went side by side of Peter up dem cotton rows. We picked three hundred pounds of cotton ev’y day. I plowed, too. I would work right up till bedtime. My fust chile was born when I was thirteen; I didn’t know what it was all about’till I had the baby. But Miss, we didn’t stop. I had a baby ev’y nine months ‘till I had twenty-ﬁve. Now don’t look at me lak dat, Miss, ‘cause it is de truf. ‘‘We made good as long as Peter lived. We tried to raise all of de chilluns right. Mr. Morton tol’ us dat he thought we ought to stop a while. ‘‘Well, some of den chilluns got up big enuff to git married and they started havin’ chilluns right when my las’ chile was born. I was [jus’?] ready to git down an’ my daughter was sick with her’s. I got dere an’ done all I could fo’ her an’ went home and mine come. I prayed then, Miss, for God to never let me have no mo’ babies, an’ you know I stopped right then.’’ ‘‘Was Peter good to you during all this time Aunt Cella?’’ ‘‘Oh, yes,’’ she said, ‘‘we loved each other, only one time did he step out on me dat I knows of. A gal lived not far from us dat looked good. Mr. Morton had her there on his place to work. I was stayin’ home [mo?]’ now an’ Peter was in de ﬁeld with dis gal. When her baby was born de po’ gal died and left a baby boy. Nobody could tell who de pa was. Peter was right cute about it when he come and said, ‘Ceila I’se dat baby’s pa an’ I want us to take him an’ raise him. I asked him how come he didn’t tell me befo’ de gal died. He said, ‘Ceila, I was afraid you would kill dat gal, an’ I didn’t want you to go to de gallus an’ be hund.’ I don’t think dey had no ‘lectrik chairs den. We jus’ took de baby an’ let de matter drop ‘cause we still loved each other. ‘‘Miss, my pa and ma was slaves, but you know dey never would tell us much about it. I cain’t remember who wus dere Mistess and Marster, but I remember hearin’ dem say one time dat dey sho was good to ‘em. Dey allus giv’em good food an’ good clo’s but dey wouldn’t let them have any books. Dey would slip sometimes an’ look at de papers an’ try to read ‘em. ‘‘My grandma an’ grandpa was slaves, too, Ma said. They had good white folk’s and grandpa an’ grandma married ‘cause dere white folks owned both of ‘em. You know, Miss, I guess dat is who I takes atter, ‘cause dey had twenty-eight chilluns. Dat tickled dere white folks to death ‘cause dey didn’t have to buy no mo’ slaves. Long as grandpa and grandma had chilluns dey had a big farm an’ dat family of niggers was all dey needed, but I’se kind o’ glad I won’t born in dem days. ‘‘I’se proud o’ all my chilluns an’ grandchilluns, too.’’ Just then a tall black negro girl came up with some sacks. ‘‘Lawdy me, Miss, dis is my baby chile. Bless her heart; she allus thinks o’ her ma.’’ She opened the sack and was surprised to ﬁnd green peas and some other things. They shelled the peas and talked of some things which didn’t interest me so I got up

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to go. Then Aunt Ceila said, ‘‘Wait Miss, I got some of the old folk’s pitchers. I think I can git to the old trunk now widout tracking de ﬂo’.’’ She was gone only a few minutes and then she came back carrying an old album with lots of old pictures taken back when hoop skirts and bustles were in style. Some of them were made in later years. After looking at the book she said, ‘‘I don’t live lak I uster ‘cause my husband is dead an’ gone now an’ I’se getting too old to work. I washes sometimes and de chilluns help me out some.’’ I told her that it was getting late, that I would have to go now and that I enjoyed talking to her. ‘‘Miss,’’ she said, ‘‘when you go back to town go to de welfare people for me and tell dem I sho needs a coat an’ some dresses ‘cause I sho is necked.’’ I told her I would do my best and left. Source: Edited by Mrs. Maggie B. Freeman. Georgia Writers’ Project, Athens. October 27, 1939. Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

106. Coonjine in Manhattan, 1939 GARNETT LAIDLAW ESKEW While much African American history of the twentieth century is recorded in church records, long defunct community newspapers, and other obscure archives, the bulk of it died with the elders in communities throughout America who took what they remembered to their graves. The bulk of African American history is found in an oral tradition that is rapidly disappearing. An obscure piece of that history has been reconstituted in this essay called ‘‘Coonjine in Manhattan’’—a scion of river lore about black dock workers who were known as ‘‘Coonjine.’’ On a bright October afternoon I walked along pier-lined West Street that borders the Hudson shore in New York City. Near at hand the city roared past; beyond, rose the Jersey cliffs. Here on West Street there is always a crowding and pushing of ocean vessels—transatlantic and coastwise ships; freighter and ‘‘luxury liners’’—lying in at their berths, thrusting sharp prows against the very city pavements, or edging away from their wharves in the wake of straining tugboats. Today there were, as always, crowds of stevedores, longshoremen, and dock laborers on hand, busy about the loading and unloading of cargoes arriving from, or destined for, the ports of the seven seas. Solidly these men went about their work— Hungarians, Italians, Irishmen, Germans, Swedes, with a fair scattering of the native born product. They seemed to toil with a grim desperation as though the work they did was distasteful but necessary. Among the crowd of laborers on this particular day, however, was one—a powerful, gray-haired old Negro—who alone seemed to be enjoying his back-breaking duties. For he was singing at his work. Singing:—chanting, in a rhythmical barbaric sort of regularity, a kind of song that awoke vague nostalgia longings in my innards. Coonjine! Was it possible, I asked myself, that here in New York there was a steamboat roustabout—a ‘‘Coonjine Nigger’’—from the Mississippi country? A stray from my native Midlands and South? Looking at him closely I could not doubt it. He wore the conventional old battered hat turned up in front, the gunny sack fastened with nails across his chest and shoulders.

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Anyone reared along the Inland rivers would know that this was the characteristic dress of the steamboat roustabout, from Cairo, Ill. to St. Louis; from Cincinnati to New Orleans. I listened carefully to his song as he laid down on the dock a large box from his shoulder and turned back to the ship again. Love her in de sunshine, Love her in de rain! Treats her like a white gal, She give my neck a pain! De mo’ I does for Sadie Lee De less dat woman thinks er me! I had never heard the words before but his manner of singing them smacked undeniably of the river Negro. There was a guileless naivete that I could not mistake. Back in the days when the queenly white steamboats of the Mississippi, the Ohio and Illinois Rivers, were busy carrying the freight and passengers of the American Inland Empire, an army of freight handlers was necessary to take care of the loading and unloading. At one time in the middle of the nineteenth century before the railroads had fully come, nearly two thousand steamboats steamed gracefully along the rivers. One fairly good-sized boat carried ﬁfty roustabouts. Therefore, you can at once apprehend the great need, for strong arms and backs to do the loading and unloading at the city landings where the boats touched. Along the rivers that border Southern Illinois, Kentucky and the Southern States, Negroes gravitated instinctively to the river life. Steamboating appealed to them because of its inherently nomadic character, its constant change of scene, its hours of pleasant idleness on deck, between landings, when a black boy could rest and sleep and roll the spotted ivories with his buddies. The wages were relatively good. Particularly, the food was plentiful and substantial. And that was an important factor in any job! And so from the beginning of steam transportation on the Mississippi (1817) the Negro, as a freight handler—known locally as a roustabout, or in the vernacular a ‘‘rouster’’—became an important ﬁgure in the mid-American scene. Especially after the long arm of emancipation had freed the slaves and they sought out their own careers. A roustabout’s job while it lasted … rolling cotton bales over the stageplanks, carrying tierces of lard and sides of bacon, swinging a recalcitrant pig calf over the shoulder, carrying it squealing along, working in all kinds of weather, and under the constant tongue lashings of a profane and two-ﬁsted steamboat mate … was about as hard a job as could be found. Yet the Negroes loved it because there was plenty of time between landings for ‘‘restin’ up.’’ And there was another way to lighten the labor. If a boy put his mind on his work and kept it there, he could not long stand up under the strain. But if he sang while he worked, ‘‘released his spirit on the wings of song’’ while his back bent and the sweat trickled copiously from his pores, he would forget his weariness. There is in every rightly constructed Negro a profound sense of rhythm, an inherent love for the beat and timing of music, running back to African days. He sings as naturally as he eats. It was to alleviate the weariness of carrying freight on and off

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the steamboats, that the roustabouts sang. And the songs they sang and the shufﬂing, loose kneed dance-job-trot to which they timed their movements, became known among themselves as the Coonjine. It was such a song that I heard this gray haired brawny Negro singing on the West Street docks, a thousand miles away from the Mississippi country, on this October afternoon. (No one seems to know deﬁnitely where the name ‘‘coonjine’’ came from. Harris Dickson, well known author of Vicksburg, Miss., and an authority on Negro lore, says that the word is possibly of African origin and points out the word ‘‘Coonjai’’ was the African term for a tribal dance. But, Judge Dickson explains farther, roustabouts didn’t run much to ‘‘derivations’’—to Greek or Latin roots. Whenever they wanted a word they made it up offhand, and usually the word they coined ﬁlled the bill so perfectly that it stuck. It may have been so with Coonjine.) Coonjine songs were not spirituals—neither the genuine nor the ‘‘Broadway’’ variety. There was nothing spiritual about them that I have been able to discover. Into these songs the rousters put the problems and the incidents of the day’s labor, the characteristics of the people they met. The peculiarities of a mate or captain or fellow rouster; the speed and qualities of a particular boat; the charms or meanness of a woman-friend; domestic matters—all these were subjects which the steamboat roustabouts move into the texture of the Coonjine songs with which they lightened the labor of steamboat work. Composed sometimes on the spur of the moment, or garbled versions of songs previously heard, often the words were ridiculous, sometimes senseless, but nearly always ludicrous with occasionally a touch of pathos: Old roustabout aint got no home, Make his living on his shoulder bone! *** There came a lull in the unloading of the ship. The Negro exhaled gustily, mopped his brow and chancing to glance in my direction, grinned and shook his head. ‘‘Sho’ is hot!’’ he announced, ‘‘and man is I tired!’’ I beckoned him over to one side. ‘‘What boats you work on?’’ I asked him. ‘‘Ever roust on the Kate Adams?’’ At which his smile broadened and he broke out in a loud guffaw. ‘‘Go ‘long, Boss! You come frum down on the River? Lawd, Lawd! Yassur, I sho’ly did wuk on de ole Lovin Kate. Dat’s whut we useter call de Kate Adams. I wuk on Cap’n Buck Layhe’s Golden Eagle, too, an’ on de City er Louisville and City er Cincinnati, up on de Ohio River. One time, ‘bout ﬁfteen years ago, I rousted fer Ole Cap’n. Cooley up de Ouachita River. Yassuh!’’ He turned scornfully to the group of laborers still carrying articles of freight, ‘‘Dese hyuh dagoes and furriners—dey don’t know nuthin’ bout roustin’! Dey doan know nothin’ bout Coonjine, like us does out on de river.’’ ‘‘Do you remember any more of those Coonjine songs?’’ I asked him. Whereupon he at once became a triﬂe reticent and embarrassed. ‘‘Laway, hit wuz so long ago I mos’ fergit ‘em. I useter know a lot dem songs when I wuz a young buck. But sense I done got ole, I got me a wife and jined de chu’ch and fergit mos’ all dem ole Coonjine songs.’’ ‘‘But you were singing just now,’’ I told him.

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‘‘Wuz I?’’ he asked, his eyes wide. ‘‘Well, dat - dat wuz jes cause I wuz workin’, boss!’’ Presently he resumed: ‘‘I ‘members one song we uster sing on de Lizzie Bay, when she was runnin’ from Ragtown ter Cairo.’’ ‘‘Ragtown? Where was that?’’ ‘‘Aw - dat’s jes’ de name de rousters give her Cincinnati. So many rags wuz sold and shipped out on de boats ter make paper outen. ‘‘Dat song went dish here way: De ole Lizzie Bay she comin’ roun’ de ben’ All she’s a doin’ is killin’ up men. De ole Lizzie Bay she’s a mighty ﬁne boat But hit take nine syphon ter keep her aﬂoat. An’ boss, you member dat song bout Who been hyuh sints I bin gone? Big ole rouster wid a derby on, Layin’ right dar in my bed Wid his heels crack open like cracklin’ bread. I whoop my woman and I black her eye, But I won’t cut her th’oat kaze I skeered she might die.…’’ I had heard garbled versions of this epic at various river towns, even as I had heard variations of that well-nigh unprintable song with the recurring refrain of ‘‘Rango—Rango’’ and the often twisted, ‘‘Roll, Molly, Roll.’’ This seemed to please him mightily. Under pressure, and in acknowledgement of some silver change, he recalled others of the songs he had chanted years ago, in the days when the big steamboats ran—recalled them slowly, one by one, each song suggesting another. Standing there with him in the West Street pier shed, I gathered a sizeable collection of Coonjine songs. Many, I have no doubt, bore only a slight resemblance to the original wordings. For roustabouts felt, so long as they preserved the thought and central idea and rhythm of a song, they could change the words at will. Sometime they abandoned the existing words and made up new words of their own. I have heard different versions of barely recognizable Coonjine songs in various towns from St. Louis to the Delta. Once, an antiquated porter at the old Holliday House, fronting the river at Cairo, Ill., sang this one for me: ‘‘Whar wuz you las’ night? O tell me whar you wuz las’ night? Rattin’ on de job In Saint Chawles Hotel.’’ Which requires some explanation. ‘‘Ratting’’ in rouster lingo for ‘‘loaﬁng.’’ The St. Charles Hotel referred, not to the historical hostelry in New Orleans of that name, but to a warm cleared space beneath the steamboat boilers on the lower deck on any boat where the rousters, whenever they were able to dodge the vigilant eye of the mate, were wont to hide away and sleep.

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Many a boat has been loaded, down in the cotton country, to the tune of a two line doggerel: I chaws my terbacker and I spits my juice, Gwinter love my gal til hit ain’t no use. Roustabouts were always hungry. Near the steamboat landing in Vicksburg there stood, back in the eighties and nineties, an old brick bakery which specialized in ‘‘nigger belly’’—that is, long slabs of ginger bread which sold at the rate of two for ﬁve cents. The roustabouts called it ‘‘boozum bread.’’ Boozum bread, boozum bread, I eats dat stuff till I dam near dead!—sang the roustabouts of the Belle of the Bends of the Senator Cordell or the Belle Memphis, or any other of a dozen boats. Which also requires some explanation. In carrying articles of freight up and down the stageplank a roustabout had to use both hands to balance it on his shoulder or head. So he would stuff a strip of ginger bread under his shirt bosom next to his skin, the top extending up almost to his collar. By ducking his chin he could bit out chunks of the stuff (soon softened by sweat) without interference with his work. Hence the name, Boozum (bosom) bread. Vicksburg roustabouts were also partial to this song, which had reference to a certain one-armed hard-ﬁsted steamboat mate, named Lew Brown. Taint no use for dodgin’ roun’ Dat ole mate jes’ behine you. Better cut dat step and coonjine out Dat ole jes’ behine you! But the songs eulogising the boats themselves stick longer in my mind than any others. There was something intensely personal about a steamboat. To the men who manned and owned and operated them, steamboats had personality. Hence the qualities of certain boats live today in Coonjine songs.… The boats of the Lee Line, in the Memphis-New Orleans trade until a few years ago, fed the passengers and crews well; but paid notoriously low wages. Still the Negroes liked to work for the Lee Line. The reason is to be found in this song: Reason I likes de Lee Line trade, Sleep all night wid de chambermaid. She gimme some pie and she gimme some cake, An’ I gi’ her all de money dat I ever make! The Anchor Line boats (running from 1869–1911) were each named for a Mississippi River City, and ﬁne St. Louis and New Orleans packets, noted for speed, sumptious cabins and elaborate cuisine. I once met, up on the Ohio River, an old roustabout who called himself Ankline Bob—because, he said, he had worked for the Anchor Line. Bob had the lowdown on the different Anchor Line boats: Dey wuks you hawd but dey feeds you ﬁne On dem big boats er de Anchor Line.

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There was intense rivalry between the different boats of this line. Notably that between the City of Cairo and the City of Monroe. Both were ﬁne and fast, but the Cairo was once said to have a slight edge for speed on the Monroe. Whereupon the roustabouts on the Monroe would sing: De City of Cairo’s a mighty big gun, But lemme tell you whut de Monroe done: She lef’ Baton Rouge at haff pass one An’ git ter Vicksburg at de settin’ er de sun. Another Anchor Liner; the City of Providence, was nicknamed by the roustabouts ‘‘The Trusty Trus’’’ for the reason that her mate was always willing to trust a rouster with a dollar until pay day. They would sing: Me and muh woman done had a fus … Gwinter take a little trip on de Trusty Trus! I owes de lanlady ﬁfty cents, Gwinter roust on de Providence A song that was popular in America twenty years ago was ‘‘Alabama Bound.’’ An ex-roustabout on the St. Louis levee once explained to me that this song was originally a Coonjine song. The steamboat Saltillo was a doughy little sternwheeler which late in the evening used to pull away periodically from the landing and turn her nose southward down the Mississippi. At Cairo she would turn into the Ohio and up that stream to the mouth of the Tennessee River, following the lovely channel of that river back into the Muscle Shoals section of Alabama which the great government dams are today being built to improve navigation. With their usual happy facility for conferring euphonious nicknames, the Negroes called the Saltillo the Sal Teller. Sal Teller leave St. Looey Wid her lights tu’n down. And you’ll know by dat She’s Alabama bound. Alabama bound! She’s Alabama bound! You’ll know by dat She’s Alabama bound! Doan you leave me here! Doan you leave me here! Ef you’s gwine away and ain comin’ back Leave a dime fer beer! Leave a dime fer beer Leave a dime fer beer! Brother, if yu gwine away Leave a dime fer beer! I ask de mate Ter sell me some gin;

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Says, I pay you, mister When de Stack comes When de Stack comes When de Stack comes Says, I pay you mister, When de Stack comes

in in in! in.

The name Stack, recurring several times in the song, referred to one of the Lee Line boats, the Stacker Lee. Mates and captain, far from objecting to coonjine, encouraged their roustabouts to sing. There was a sound utilitarian reason for this. Anyone who has worked with Negroes knows that they will work better when they work to music, timing their movements to the beat of the tune. A thousand tons of miscellaneous freight and a few hundred bales of cotton could be loaded, to the beat and time of Coonjine, in half the time that songless labor would demand. Coming up the Mississippi on Captain Cooley’s little sternwheeler Ouachita in company with Roark Bradford, one early spring, I learned this song from that skillful portrayer of the Negro character: This was a cotton-loading song heard frequently on the docks at New Orleans. Catﬁsh swimmin’ in de river Nigger wid a hook and line Says de catﬁsh, Lookyere, Nigger, You ain’ got me dis time. Come on, bale (spoken) - got yuh! And there was another value to Coonjine. Moving in perfect time meant that the rousters’ feet hit the stageplank with uniform precision. A wise thing, too! For if a rouster should step upon the vibrating boards out of time, and thus catch the rebound of the stage-plank, he was very likely to be catapulted with his load over into that muddy bourne from which no roustabout returns—or rarely so. A general opinion prevails throughout the River Southland that nobody but the Negroes can sing Coonjine. This may be true, for if you have ever tried to capture a Coonjine tune from hearing a Negro sing it, you must have realized how utterly futile it is to put down in cold black and white on paper the color and barbaric beauty of the tones. However, an attempt is being made—as this is written—by an accomplished musical composer in Paducah, Kentucky, to bring out a book of Coonjine songs with music. Such a collection would be an invaluable addition to our vanishing Americana. For this phase of American life is fast vanishing. With the coming of the railroads, the steamboats (as we knew them once) have gone. So have the black freight handlers who by their songs and ever-rebounding good nature, added much to the pleasure of steamboat travel. Many of the old roustabouts have died. More have left their native South and come to the north to live with grown-up ‘‘chillens.’’ You will ﬁnd them, not only on the West Street docks in New York, but in Cleveland, Chicago, Cincinnati and other cities. And to those black ‘‘creators of American folklore’’ the writer ascribes this brief tribute. Source: Chicago, 1939. Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

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107. Harlem Parties, 1939–1940 AL THAYER, AS TOLD TO FRANK BYRD There were many legends in the Harlem section of Manhattan, and none was more beloved than the one about a socialite named Dixie Lee. This story is about the night she was shot and killed, as told by a WPA Writer’s Project writer, Frank Byrd. The story is told by Al Thayer and written by Byrd. Well, almost anybody will tell you that the gayest thing about Harlem in the old days (during the Prohibition Era) was its hectic parties. Everybody had them and they were thrown on the slightest provocation. Anybody’s homecoming, dispossess notice, marriage or divorce was a more than reasonable excuse for a party. Harlemites socialites and their conduct, in short, were much on the order of lower Manhattan’s gay ‘‘400’’. Both thought and acted alike: jittery, sophisticated and inevitably bored. I had my fun along with the rest of them. Life was soft for any unattached young male with a passable wardrobe, a smooth line of chatter and a ﬂair for the latest dances. It was a cinch to get invited from one week-end party to another, where all expenses were footed by a fat, half-amorous hostess. It was also quite easy to put the bite on ones dull host for a ten or a twenty (never to be repaid, of course) whenever these affairs rolled around. I have even wangled myself a berth as a house-guest for as long as three or four months at a time. It was a soft living for all young writers, artists, struggling musicians and pseudo intellectuals. They were the fad in Harlem. Sponsoring them was deﬁnitely the smart, fashionable thing, a real diversion for the social upper-crust. I remember one child whose parties I always loved to attend. They were so screwy and inconsistent that they were a never failing source of amusement—just like the person who gave them—little Dixie Lee, whom I am sure, all the Harlem old-timers remember with a deep, sincere affection. It was the last party she ever gave, and typical of all the rest. Robert Van Doren came and, to the surprise of every one, brought his wife, Sonia, instead of the chorus boy that was his current weakness; Mamie Jones, Harlem’s perrenial two-hundred pound play girl, had called while in the midst of a shower and when she learned that the party was already underway, took just time enough to slip on a bathrobe and mules, grab two bottles of scotch and hop into her roadster; Jay Clayton, the Customs inspector, who like everyone else, had forgotten when he was last sober, came breathless, hatless, and coatless, his bald head shiny with perspiration—somewhere enroute, he had fastened on to Pearl Black, currently popular for her Pulitzer prize novel that had been dramatized, and presented by the Theatre Guild; Muriel Payne, author and lecturer, resplendent in blood-red transparent velvet and sporting a long ivory cigarette holder, tripped in escorted by her jet-black grinning gigolo; Lady Nancy [Aintree?], garbed in bright red baret, ﬂat-heeled shoes and a noisy Johnson, the Negro sculptor just back in Harlem after three years in the gay haunts of Montmarte—he had apparently neither shaved nor had a hair cut in all that time. Martha Lomax, uptown Now York’s buxom, good-time night-life czarina, closed shop, bundled her girls into a ﬂeet of taxis and put in her appearance to help celebrate Dixie’s triumphant home coming from the country. A dress house customer,

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his curiosity aroused, bribed her to bring him along; Rusty Freeman, who had just completed a work-out at the gymnasium, came in a high-necked purple sweater and boasted a beautiful eye to match; after the Broadway new Black and Tan musical, Ethel Rainey, the blues singer, came locked in arms with the leading lady’s understudy; Paul White, ex-prizeﬁghter and singer, brought the ex-mayor’s girl friend; Cherry McAlpin, who headed the uptown list of socially elite matrons sent the party into an uproar when she put in her appearance with her dapper physician husband in tow, thereby shattering a local precedent of ten years standing; young Reverend Milton Mallory, whose pugistically inclined wife kept him constantly indisposed, nursing black-eyes, fractured ribs and other minor injuries, restored things to normal by ﬁnally showing up with the person everyone expected him to bring—his chauffer’s wife. There was a shortage of men, so Ace Glassman, the party wit, went down into the street and hailed two taxi drivers who willingly came in but soon admitted that the pace was too much for them. It was a motley crowd, but they did not seem to mind each other. By midnight, the party was ofﬁcially declared a success. Jeff, Dixie’s boyfriend, insisted on making a round of the night clubs, however; so they piled into all the cars that were available, commandeered passing taxicabs for the leftovers, and ten minutes later, all were comfortably seated at and noisily pounding on the tops of ring-side tables at the Cotton Pickers Club. (Several hours later, those who did not go home and all who were able to, did the same thing in another club. What club it was, nobody knew nor apparently seemed to care.) On the ﬂoor at the Cotton Pickers Club, however, a chocolate-brown girl with full breasts, a strong voice and swinging hips was singing. When she reached the high notes, large veins stood out on her throat and her voice became huskier than ever. After a series of slow sensual choruses, the band doubled its tempo and the girl began to tap dance—ﬂinging herself wildly and indiscrimnately in every direction. Her breasts juggled up and down, all out of time with the rythm of her feet. My mind was in a whirl and I found it increasingly difﬁcult to hold my head up, yet I was vaguely aware of the thumping music, the prancing waiters and Dixie’s boisterous friends. Suddenly I wanted to get away from all of this but could not seem to get up. ‘‘Damn this crowd, anyhow!’’ I thought. ‘‘Just a lot o damn smirking, highbrows doing back-ﬂips trying to be funny.’’ What the hell did they get out of it? Oh, to hell with them, anyway—they didn’t mean anything to me, I thought. I’d probably never see half of them again. Somebody poured me another drink. Automatically I drank it. ‘You look sleepy, Jeff. Are you?’ I heard Dixie ask Jeff. ‘Well, I could stand a wink or two. Couldn’t [you?]’ ‘Don’t tell me you’re ready to leave so soon?’ ‘Sure, why not?’ ‘Listen gang.’ Jay Allen chirped, ‘little Jefﬁe wants to go home.’ ‘Dear! Dear!’ cooed Van Doren mockingly, ‘Does he want his mama to tuck him in’? ‘Naw.’ Ace said menacingly, ‘He’s had experience with them kinda mama’s.’ No one answered, or seemed to hear this. Then Lady Nancy piped up brightly— ‘That’s it, lets all tuck the dear boy in!’

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‘Aw be your age, Aintree.’ Ace said, turning away. Lady Nancy was properly shocked but she would not give Ace the satisfaction of knowing it. There was more entertainment, but it was entirely wasted on Dixie’s party. They had a little show all their own that was beginning to provide serious competition for the house entertainers. Finally, they trailed out into the street. It was dawn. Jay, making a little desperate effort for the spot-light, climbed into a waiting milk wagon and drove down Lenox Avenue ﬂourishing one of the women’s evening wraps in his best charioteer fashion and announcing his wares to all sundry in a gin-hoarsened tenor. The others, between bursts of laughter and handclaps of approval, climbed into their cars or waiting taxicabs and drove away. You probably remember ‘‘Young’’ Johnny Morano. He had made quite a name for himself ‘‘in the racket’’ and admitted it. It was a name to be reckoned with too— even in Chicago where he had ﬁnally set up headquarters. His few visits to New York marked the occasion for high revelry behind certain closed doors. Whenever he condescended to make a public appearance, it was the signal in Harlem night life circles, for a welcome of splendor beﬁtting the arrival of a local big shot. Well, Johnny accepted it all with a silent dignity—a dignity that he thought becoming to the successor of ‘‘Tough’’ Tony Morano, his brother. He felt better than he had felt in many moons and his feelings were reﬂected in his face this night. He entered the Cotton Pickers Club to a burst of cheers and applause. He went from table to table greeting those of his old friends whom he recognized, but he never drank with them. He always drank alone. That was one of his hard and fast rules. He never was entirely alone, however, no matter how much he appeared to be. If you looked closely enough, you noticed a group of three or four silent but unusually alert young men hovering somewhere in the immediate background. I’ll never forget it even though I was pretty high. Until Johnny saw Dixie and Jeff, his face was a ﬂushed picture of happiness; then it suddenly changed into a colorless mask with a thin white line for lips. He stopped, wheeled about and walked through a door near the orchestra platform. The silent, hardfaced young men followed him. Well, I suppose you know that Dixie Lee was once ‘‘Tough’’ Tony’s girl and that during a ﬁght in her apartment with Jeff Davis, Tony had been shot and killed while scufﬂing for possession of a gun. It was in all the papers. Johnny spoke a few crisp words to his attentive young men. They did not answer him but two of them lighted cigarettes and sat down. The other two adjusted their hats, buttoned their tight-ﬁtting spring coats and walked out into the street. When Jeff and Dixie and I got into a cab, the two young men slouched in a long, blue sedan with soft felt hats tilted over their eyes. I saw them but thought nothing of it. At the entrance to Dixie’s apartment house, we stepped out of the cab; Jeff paid the driver and the three of us started in. This same blue sedan, rolling down the wet street, paused momentarily and sped away. During that few seconds hesitation, several shots rang out. At the ﬁrst shot, Jeff dropped quickly to the ground and the next minute Dixie slumped down into his arms. The doorman who had gone inside the building came running out. A cop came also. Jeff told him what had happened. He called an ambulance. While they were waiting for the ambulance, they carried Dixie inside and Jeff did what he could to make her comfortable. When the ambulance came, we climbed in

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with her. Jeff’s face was a picture of agony and despair. Dixie smiled up at him and tried to put her arms around his neck but she couldn’t. She sank back into the pillows. ‘Don’t worry about me, darling’, she said. ‘I’ll be all right.’ The ambulance swerved into the courtyard of Harlem Hospital. Two attendants took Dixie in on a stretcher. The doctor told us to wait in the hall and we sat down on a bench. Finally the doctor came out and motioned us into the room where Dixie lay. Jeff looked at her and held her in his arms. She looked all right but in back of her, the doctor was shaking his head. The next minute we knew what he was trying to say. Outside Jeff said: ‘It just don’t seem possible. Only last night she was so alive and happy. I had never seen her so happy.’ Source: Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection.

108. Excerpt from Twelve Million Black Voices, 1941 RICHARD WRIGHT In 1941, writer Richard Wright teamed up with a series of photographers who worked for the Farm Security Administration and published what might be called the autobiography of African Americans. Called 12,000,000 Black Voices, it was a folk history of the Negro in the United States and was published by Viking Press. This is an excerpt. Our outward guise still carries the old familiar aspect of which three hundred years of oppression in America have given us, but beneath the garb of the black laborer, the black cook, and the elevator operator lies an uneasily tied knot of pain and hope whose snarled strands converge from many points of time and space.’’ Standing at the apex of the twentieth century, we look back over the road we have traveled and compare it with the road over which the white folk have traveled, and we see that three hundred years in the history of our lives are equivalent to two thousand years in the history of the lives of whites! And ﬁnally, The differences between black folk and white folk are not blood or color, and the ties that bind us are deeper than those that separate us. The common road of hope which we all have traveled has brought us into a stronger kinship than any words, laws, or legal claims. Look at us now and you will know yourselves, for we are you, looking back at you from the dark mirror of our lives! Source: New York: Viking Press, 1941.

109. The Woman at the Well, 1941 JAMES BALDWIN Writer James Baldwin became an icon of African American literature in the 1960s and later one of the best voices of an American expatriate who ﬂed life in America to live in France. Baldwin would eventually become one of the most celebrated writers of twentieth-century American literature. ‘‘The Woman at the Well’’ is an early short story Baldwin wrote as a student of the famed DeWitt Clinton High School in the Bronx. ‘‘Oh Lawd I Want.’’

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Jeems walked along the hot, dusty road, heart alive with song. His faded blue dungarees ﬂapped in the still, oppressive air. Rivulets of water ran down the dusky cheeks gathering under his chin to form large, hessitant beads. The rough, wooly hair glistened in the sunlight; the eyes, large and eager, surveyed the world peacefully from beneath the shining, heavy brows. Under one forearm he carried a Bible. ‘‘Two wings …’’ Dog, but he was tired! It was a long journey, the way he was going. He had been travelling all day, and though he had often made the journey before, this time it seemed slower than usual. ‘‘Dis rate I’ll jes’ git to de church Sunday mo’nin’ in time to walk right in an’ preach,’’ he grumbled. ‘‘Won’t have time to wash or nothin’.’’ This was immediately followed by the consoling thought: ‘‘It doan matter so long’s dey git de Word; Eben Jesus was ragged sometime.’’ Heaven and earth contained no greater honor than to do as Jesus might have done. ‘‘To veil my face …’’ He thought of the time he had ﬁrst ‘‘got religion’’—two weeks after his thirteenth birthday. He thought of the ramshackle, wooden ‘‘praise-house’’ with the rough, splintery benches, and the hard, gray ﬂoor. They met there almost every night—his father and mother and most of their friends and neighbors. It was their life. They prayed and sang, testiﬁed to each other of their trials and tribulations, and what the Lord had brought them through. They used to have a good time in the Lord, he recollected. Every night there was a ‘‘shout’’—that fervid, exhibition of religious enthusiasm so dear and peculiar to the Negro heart. He remembered the ecstasy that had ﬁlled his being and how bright the stars had seemed to be, and how all the earth had seemed to be reborn. He could not forget the way God had walked and talked with him, bore his burdens, quelled his fears, gave him peace in his heart. Tears ﬁlled his eyes, and he clenched the Bible tighter. ‘‘An’ de world can’t do me no harm …’’ He was mighty thirsty. He hoped he’d reach someplace soon, where he could stop and get a drink. Water made him think of his text for Sunday: ‘‘… whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him, shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be … a well of water springing up into everlasting life.’’ Everlasting life, bless God! Living forever with Jesus and His Angels! No more troubles. No more dying. No boss-men to knock you around. Just righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. He was approaching a house and there was a well in the yard. He hoped he’d be able to get a drink. Didn’t know, though. That was a white woman standing by the well. Sometimes folks was mighty funny about a black man talking to a white woman. The woman’s copper hair shot little sparks into the sunlight. She was just standing there, sort of leaning on the well, staring off into space. Jeems quickened his step. He felt elated. Maybe if this woman was friendly he’d have a chance to tell her about the Lord. Maybe she might get saved. He reached the yard, and stopped. He heard his voice, hoarse, beseeching:

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‘‘Please ma’am kin I git a drink?’’ The woman looked at him and smiled. ‘‘Of course,’’ she said. ‘‘Help yourself.’’ *** ‘‘Niggers gettin’ too uppity,’’ grunted Frank Johnson, chief deputy of Cullen County, Alabama, and member of the K.K.K. ‘‘Gotta do sumpthin’ to keep ‘em down.’’ He was alone in the small, hot room. A ﬂy buzzed around his head. He struck at it. Damn niggers was gittin’ too smart, that was the trouble. Got to thinkin’ they was just as good as a white man. Got so some of ‘em would even talk to a white woman. He heard that in some places they was even allowed to marry. He grunted again, disgustedly. Let him catch a black man botherin’ a white woman. He’d show him. He spat and walked out into the blinding sunshine. This woman was surprisingly friendly. Jeems had drank and thanked her. He started off. She noted the Bible under his arm. ‘‘Goin’ to preach somewhere?’’ she asked him. He looked at her, ﬂattered that she should be interested. ‘‘Yes ma’am,’’ he stammered. She smiled a friendly smile. ‘‘Is it far from here?’’ ‘‘No’m,’’ he said. ‘‘Not so fur.’’ ‘‘What are you goin’ to preach about? Heaven an’ hell an’ all God’s angels?’’ He sensed that she was laughing at him. ‘‘No’m,’’ he said. Suddenly he thought of his father; and the way he talked and something bubbled within him, and loosened his tongue. His shyness left him. ‘‘Ise gwine talk about water.’’ ‘‘What?’’ she gasped. She seemed to be struggling for breath. ‘‘About de wells of water springin’ up inter everlastin’ life,’’ he explained. ‘‘What Jesus talked about when he was here. Ya see—’’ he opened his Bible, began thumbing pages—’’Jesus, one day He let’ Jerusalem to go to Jericho, an’ he goes through Samaria. An’ on de way He meets a woman standin’ by a well an’ after she gives Him some water, He tells her about dis livin’ water dat He kin give her, an’ ef she drinks it, she won’t thirst no mo’. An’ she says, ‘Master gimme dis livin’ water dat I might not thirst again …’’ ‘‘Livin’ water?’’ she said. ‘‘It’s Jesus,’’ he said. ‘‘When you git Jesus in yo’ heart, an’ yo’ sins done been fo’given, den you has a peace an’ a joy can’t nothin’ destroy. No matter what happens you kin sing an’ praise de Lawd, cause you got dat livin’ water on de inside!’’ His eyes ﬂashed, his face shone. He was warming to his subject. She watched him, fascinated. ‘‘Dis livin’ water,’’ he chanted, ‘‘bless God, it make you see everybody alike. You love ev’rybody. You b’leeves a black man as good as a white man, cause you got Jesus on de inside. Bless God, you don’t see nobody’s color, you don’t hate nobody, ef you got dis livin’ waters Trouble wit de world today dey ain’t got dis livin’ water. An’ we needs it. Wouldn’t be no wars ef—’’ There was a stunning blow on the back of his neck. He heard the woman scream. ‘‘I’ll show ye’ what we give to niggers fer molestin’ white wimmen!’’ a voice yelled. His head reeled with another blow. Dimly, he saw a ﬂabby face, insane with fury. ‘‘Please suh, I wasn’t …’’ He felt blood on his lips, and the woman screamed

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again. The man kicked him in the stomach, and he crumpled. The world swam before his eyes. ‘‘Please …’’ he gasped. The heavy foot beat in his face, his eyes, his nose. Blood trickled down his shirt. ‘‘O Lawd,’’ he wept, ‘‘O Lawd …’’ The foot came again and again. Desperate, Jeems grabbed the ankle, and turned. The man fell beside him. His face was wet and white. ‘‘Nigger,’’ he cursed, and raised his hand. Jeems saw the glint of metal in the sun, and cried out. The cry gurgled in his throat. The sun became dazzling. And the well of water became a fountain, leaping up and springing into everlasting life. Source: The Magpie, DeWitt Clinton High School literary magazine, Spring 1941, Vol. 25, No. 2, p.26. The New Deal Network.

110. In a Harlem Cabaret, 1942 O’NEILL CARRINGTON O’Neill Carrington was a student at DeWitt Clinton High School in the Bronx. This piece was published in 1942 and poignantly captures the legacy of the Harlem Renaissance. Brown boys, yellah gals bending, swaying Black boys joking, drinking, swearing To the strident cry of a brass clarinet In a Harlem cabaret. Pegged legged pants and short silk skirts, Flashy sheiks and buxom ﬂirts Swaying to the pleas of a shrill clarinet In a Harlem cabaret. A ﬂash of steel, a piercing scream A mufﬂed thud, a shattered dreamy A brown boy solos on a lone clarinet In a Harlem cabaret. Source: The Magpie, DeWitt Clinton High School literary magazine, Winter 1942, Vol. 26, No. 1, p. 47. The New Deal Network.

111. Rendezvous with Life: An Interview with Countee Cullen, 1942 JAMES BALDWIN This entry explains, both with Countee Cullen’s poem and James Baldwin’s commentary on Cullen’s career, how even the economic Depression could not prevent the continued emergence of African American cultural and literary achievements. I have a rendezvous with Life And all travailling lovely things Like groping seeds and beating wings

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And cracked lips warring with a ﬁfe. I am betrothed to Beauty, scarred With suffering though she may be; In that she bears pain splendidly Her comeliness may not be marred. The above lines were written twenty years ago by a Clinton schoolboy who in his senior year became Editor-in-chief of the Clinton News and of the Senior Issue of the Magpie. He handled both assignments with assurance and ease. Later he was to become one of Clinton’s most distinguished alumni. His name is Countee Cullen. ‘‘My ﬁrst published poem,’’ Mr. Cullen told me in a deserted classroom in the Frederick Douglass Junior High School where he now teaches, ‘‘was published without my knowledge in the Clinton News. It seems that there was a controversy between a Clinton teacher and an outsider in which the outsider held that high school students were unable to write acceptable verse, and the Clinton teacher held that they were. My poem was published to prove the Clinton teacher’s contention—and it did,’’ said Mr. Cullen, modestly. That was the beginning of a distinguished career as a writer. Countee Cullen was born May 30, 1903, the son of a Methodist minister and his devout wife. His father is still pastor of a church at One Hundred Twenty-eighth Street and Seventh Avenue. ‘‘My parents,’’ Countee said, ‘‘had no objection to my being a poet, as writing poetry cannot be considered a means of making a livelihood.’’ ‘‘Why not?’’ inquired your startled reporter. ‘‘Poetry,’’ explained Mr. Cullen, ‘‘is something which few people enjoy and which fewer people understand. A publishing house publishes poetry only to give the establishment tone. It never expects to make much money on the transaction. And it seldom does.’’ Yours truly, who had been under the impression that one simply published a book, and sat back and watched the shekels roll in, sat aghast. ‘‘I never knew that,’’ I said. ‘‘I guess a teaching job comes in pretty handy, then.’’ ‘‘Yes,’’ he admitted. ‘‘Also, I like to teach.’’ Mr. Cullen then brieﬂy reviewed how he had received his bachelor’s degree at New York University, his Master of Arts at Harvard, and how in 1925 his ﬁrst book of poetry was published. It established him at once as one of the important of the younger Negro poets and brought him in 1926 the post of assistant editor on the Negro magazine, Opportunity. In 1928 he received the Guggenheim Fellowship in Paris. The Guggenheim Fellowship, he explained to me, enables an author to live for a year, do nothing but write and still be alive at the end of the year. It sounds like something out of Shangri-la. When his twelve month paradise had ended, Mr. Cullen came again to grips with earthly practicalities, and the exigencies of making a living. Eventually, he became a teacher of French in the aforementioned junior high school. To date, Mr. Cullen has published six books of poetry, one of them being an anthology of Negro poetry, called Caroling Dusk. His latest, The Lost Zoo, written by request, he talked of as follows: ‘‘Some of the children I was teaching had read of my work and wanted to become better acquainted with it. However, most of it was too far over their heads for them to be able to appreciate it. They asked me to write something that they could understand. The Lost Zoo is the result.’’

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Needless to say, I rushed home and investigated the book. I found it a very charming fantasy told in verse except for its prologue and epilogue which are in prose. The title page says it was written by Christopher Cat and Countee P. Cullen. The prologue explains that Chris is Mr. Cullen’s pet cat who has been with Mr. Cullen so long that they have even learned to talk to each other. Chris tells him the story of the lost zoo and Mr. Cullen passes it on to us. Chris supplies all the footnotes to the text and a wiser or more charming cat you have never met. However, you probably would not be too anxious to see him in a dark alley. There’s something eerie about a cat who not only laughs but can, on occasion, be bitingly sarcastic. The Lost Zoo tells the story of all the animals who were left behind when Noah built the ark. There was a sleep-a-mite more (the name describes him), the Squilililigee (the name gives you a clue as well as anything else might), the Wake-UpWorld (who had twelve eyes of different colors) and ‘‘the Snake that walked upon his tail’’ (the female couldn’t, just the male). All these animals and a great many more were left behind and drowned, and the story of the mass catastrophe is one of the author’s most engaging pieces of work. It was written for children but this blase grown-up enjoyed it more than the home-work he was supposed to have been doing. Asking Mr. Cullen, as per custom, for some secret of success, I was told ‘‘There is no secret to success except hard work and getting something indeﬁnable which we call the ‘breaks.’ In order for a writer to succeed, I suggest three things—read and write—and wait.’’ ‘‘Have you found,’’ I asked, ‘‘that there is much prejudice against the Negro in the literary world?’’ Mr. Cullen shook his head. ‘‘No,’’ he said, ‘‘in this ﬁeld one gets pretty much what he deserves.… If you’re really something, nothing can hold you back. In the artistic ﬁeld, society recognizes the Negro as an equal and, in some cases, as a superior member. When one considers the social and political plights of the Negro today, that is, indeed, an encouraging sign.’’ Mr. Cullen expects to have his latest book, ‘‘Autobiography of a Cat’’ published early in 1942. ‘‘It will be in prose,’’ he said, ‘‘and one of my few attempts to get at the masses.’’ Source: The Magpie, DeWitt Clinton High School literary magazine, Winter 1942, Vol. 26, No. 1, p. 19. The New Deal Network.

112. Executive Order 9981, issued by President Harry S. Truman on July 26, 1948 In July 1948, President Harry S. Truman signed Executive Order 9981, ofﬁcially ending segregation in the United States Military. It was a decision that was prompted by widespread violence, murders, and executions of black military men and their families throughout the United States. Black civil rights leaders, most notably union leader A. Philip Randolph, and activist, demanded the president sign the order. Yet the signing of this order was not the end of discrimination against black soldiers in the military. The order made discrimination no longer ofﬁcial in the military, but de facto discrimination of blacks in the United States military continued for many decades in the areas of enlistment, promotions, and training opportunities.

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EXECUTIVE ORDER 9981 Establishing the President’s Committee on Equality of Treatment and Opportunity In the Armed Forces. WHEREAS it is essential that there be maintained in the armed services of the United States the highest standards of democracy, with equality of treatment and opportunity for all those who serve in our country’s defense: NOW THEREFORE, by virtue of the authority vested in me as President of the United States, by the Constitution and the statutes of the United States, and as Commander in Chief of the armed services, it is hereby ordered as follows: 1. It is hereby declared to be the policy of the President that there shall be equality of treatment and opportunity for all persons in the armed services without regard to race, color, religion or national origin. This policy shall be put into effect as rapidly as possible, having due regard to the time required to effectuate any necessary changes without impairing efﬁciency or morale. 2. There shall be created in the National Military Establishment an advisory committee to be known as the President’s Committee on Equality of Treatment and Opportunity in the Armed Services, which shall be composed of seven members to be designated by the President. 3. The Committee is authorized on behalf of the President to examine into the rules, procedures and practices of the Armed Services in order to determine in what respect such rules, procedures and practices may be altered or improved with a view to carrying out the policy of this order. The Committee shall confer and advise the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of the Army, the Secretary of the Navy, and the Secretary of the Air Force, and shall make such recommendations to the President and to said Secretaries as in the judgment of the Committee will effectuate the policy hereof. 4. All executive departments and agencies of the Federal Government are authorized and directed to cooperate with the Committee in its work, and to furnish the Committee such information or the services of such persons as the Committee may require in the performance of its duties. 5. When requested by the Committee to do so, persons in the armed services or in any of the executive departments and agencies of the Federal Government shall testify before the Committee and shall make available for use of the Committee such documents and other information as the Committee may require. 6. The Committee shall continue to exist until such time as the President shall terminate its existence by Executive order.

Harry Truman The White House July 26, 1948 Source: Harry S. Truman Library, National Archives and Records Administration.

113. Taking Jim Crow out of uniform: A. Philip Randolph and the desegregation of the U.S. military—Special Report: The Integrated Military—50 Years KARIN CHENOWETH In 1997, ﬁfty years after President Harry S. Truman desegregated the U.S. military, the military had been transformed from being viciously segregated to being widely regarded as the best integrated institution in the United States. As a result, Truman’s decision to integrate the army has became, arguably, one of the most

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important decisions of his presidency. It was prompted and signed during Truman’s reelection campaign, according to Karin Chenoweth, writing in Black Issues in Higher Education. Why he made the decision is not entirely clear. His opponent, Republican Thomas Dewey, had not made civil rights a particularly key issue in his campaign. Socialist Party candidate Norman Thomas and Progressive Party candidate Henry Wallace had, but they could be dismissed as fringe candidates. In his 1994 book Speak Now Against the Day: The Generation Before the Civil Rights Movement in the South, John Egerton analyzed the situation as follows: ‘‘[Truman] was accused of playing politics on the military desegregation order— and as far as his timing was concerned, there can be little doubt that he acted with an eye on the campaign. But who saw any political advantage in taking the initiative on such a controversial issue? A 1946 national opinion survey had found that two-thirds of all [W]hite Americans believed [B]lacks were already being treated fairly in the society at large. Congress passed a new Selective Service Act in June 1948 that left segregation in place, and Truman signed it into law. Southerners in both houses were ﬁghting tooth and nail against any modiﬁcation in the racial rules of the armed forces, and most of the military top brass were also dragging their feet on the issue. Just about the only person pressing Truman to take action was A. Philip Randolph—a forceful and persuasive man, to be sure, but not one who wielded great power. Some of the President’s advisers did see political capital to be made from a liberal stance on race, but prudence might have led them to suggest waiting until after the election to take Jim Crow out of uniform.’’ Egerton goes on to say that Truman agreed entirely with the substance of desegregating the military, but for ‘‘a man who was looking like a double-digit loser in the polls, it was a bold decision.’’ Egerton dismisses the efforts of Randolph. Nevertheless, a case can be made that Randolph’s efforts played a signiﬁcant role in Truman’s decision—particularly after considering Randolph’s inﬂuence with President Franklin D. Roosevelt. Randolph, the president of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters, had been instrumental in convincing Roosevelt to integrate the federal workforce in 1941. To bring political pressure on Roosevelt, Randolph began organizing a March on Washington Movement and threatened to bring 100,000 African Americans to the nation’s capital. Frightened by the thought of such an unprecedented demonstration, Roosevelt ordered Joseph L. Rauh, then a young assistant in the Ofﬁce of Emergency Management, to draft an executive order which would satisfy Randolph. After writing several drafts which Randolph rejected as not being strong enough, Rauh questioned his superiors, ‘‘What the hell has he got over the President of the United States?’’ Finally, Rauh submitted a version which pleased Randolph and six days before the march was to take place, Roosevelt signed Executive Order 8802, which permitted African Americans to ﬁll the lucrative jobs that were opening up in preparation for World War II. That executive order did not change segregation in the armed forces, however. Given the political situation of the time—preparing for World War II—Randolph had decided not to push for military desegregation and called off the march. He would later revisit the concept of peaceful mass demonstration in 1963 when he led

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the March on Washington which featured Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s ‘‘I Have a Dream’’ speech. Randolph would get his opportunity to push for military desegregation after the United States won World War II with the enthusiastic and important participation by African American troops. When Truman called for a peacetime draft in 1948, Randolph—along with Grant Reynolds, Commissioner of Corrections for New York State—founded the Committee Against Jim Crow in Military Service and Training. With the help of a young paciﬁst named Bayard Rustin, the committee began a civil disobedience campaign against the segregated military. On March 22, Truman invited a group of Black leaders to the White House to discuss the subject of an executive order. Among them were: Randolph; Walter White, executive secretary for the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People; Mary McLeod Bethune, the noted civil rights activist and educator; and Charles Houston, a special counsel for the NAACP. The following description of the meeting comes from A. Philip Randolph: A Biographical Portrait: ‘‘As Randolph remembers, the meeting had been proceeding smoothly and amicably, until he said to Truman, ‘Mr. President, after making several trips around the country, I can tell you that the mood among Negroes of this country is that they will never bear arms again until all forms of bias and discrimination are abolished.’ ‘‘In a battle of bluntness Harry Truman came out second to no man, and he told Randolph, ‘I wish you hadn’t made that statement. I don’t like it at all.’ ‘‘Charles Houston intervened: ‘But Mr. President, don’t you want to know what is happening in the country?’ Truman said he certainly wanted to know what was happening in the country; a president attracted more than enough yes men. ‘‘‘Well, that’s what I’m giving you, Mr. President,’ Randolph said, seizing the advantage before it disappeared again. ‘I’m giving you the facts.’ When the President allowed him to proceed, Randolph ran headlong into Truman again: ‘Mr. President, as you know, we are calling upon you to issue an executive order abolishing segregation in the armed forces.’ At this point, Truman simply thanked his visitors for coming, and said there didn’t seem to be much more that they could talk fruitfully about. ‘‘But Truman’s rebuff merely aroused Randolph’s deﬁance. Testifying, nine days later, during hearings on the universal military training bill, Randolph told the Senate Armed Services Committee: ‘‘‘This time Negroes will not take a Jim Crow draft lying down. The conscience of the world will be shaken as by nothing else when thousands and thousands of us second-class Americans choose imprisonment in preference to permanent military slavery … I personally will advise Negroes to refuse to ﬁght as slaves for a democracy they cannot possess and cannot enjoy.’’’ Randolph was not supported in his campaign against a segregated military by many establishment voices. The Amsterdam News, one of the nation’s most widely read Black newspapers, wrote an editorial condemning Randolph. However, a poll of young Black men showed that 71 percent favored a civil disobedience campaign against the draft—a striking poll, given the history of participation in the military by African Americans. And words were being joined by actions. In one of the best-known cases, Winfrid Lynn, a Long Island landscape gardener, told his draft board that while he was

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‘‘ready to serve in any unit of the armed forces of my country which is not segregated by race,’’ he would ‘‘not be compelled to serve in a unit undemocratically selected as a Negro group.’’ He went to jail. At the 1948 Democratic National Convention in Philadelphia—where the young mayor of Minneapolis, named Hubert H. Humphrey, led a ﬁght against the Southern segregationists known as Dixiecrats—scores of African Americans—led by Randolph—picketed the convention hall. Less than a month later, Truman signed the executive order. After the order was signed, Randolph sent Truman a telegram praising the president for his ‘‘high order of statesmanship and courage.’’ With that, the civil disobedience campaign ofﬁcially came to an end. It is difﬁcult to say whether Randolph’s campaign was a key factor in Truman’s decision—the new biography of Truman by David McCullough does not discuss it. But the fact is, it was one of the few organized public expressions of moral revulsion against segregation at the time. And it was one of the forerunners to later battles against segregation in the 1950s and 1960s. Source: Black Issues in Higher Education. August 21, 1997.

114. Ralph Bunche Biography, From Nobel Lectures, Peace 1950 Ralph Johnson Bunche rose up from a modest background in the midwest to become one of the ﬁrst black world diplomats. This is his biography, written by the Nobel Prize Organization in Europe after he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1950. Ralph J. Bunche (August 7, 1904–1971) was born in Detroit, Michigan. His father, Fred Bunche, was a barber in a shop having a clientele of whites only; his mother, Olive (Johnson) Bunche, was an amateur musician; his grandmother, Nana Johnson, who lived with the family, had been born into slavery. When Bunche was ten years old, the family moved to Albuquerque, New Mexico, in the hope that the poor health of his parents would improve in the dry climate. Both, however, died two years later. His grandmother, an indomitable woman who appeared Caucasian on the outside but was all black fervor inside, took Ralph and his two sisters to live in Los Angeles. Here Ralph contributed to the family’s hard pressed ﬁnances by selling newspapers, serving as house boy for a movie actor, working for a carpet-laying ﬁrm, and doing what odd jobs he could ﬁnd. His intellectual brilliance appeared early. He won a prize in history and another in English upon completion of his elementary school work and was the valedictorian of his graduating class at Jefferson High School in Los Angeles, where he had been a debater and all-around athlete who competed in football, basketball, baseball, and track. At the University of California at Los Angeles he supported himself with an athletic scholarship, which paid for his collegiate expenses, and with a janitorial job, which paid for his personal expenses. He played varsity basketball on championship teams, was active in debate and campus journalism, and was graduated in 1927, summa cum laude, valedictorian of his class, with a major in international relations. With a scholarship granted by Harvard University and a fund of a thousand dollars raised by the black community of Los Angeles, Bunche began his graduate studies in political science. He completed his master’s degree in 1928 and for the next six years alternated between teaching at Howard University and working toward the

114. Ralph Bunche Biography, From Nobel Lectures, Peace 1950 509

doctorate at Harvard. The Rosenwald Fellowship, which he held in 1932–1933, enabled him to conduct research in Africa for a dissertation comparing French rule in Togoland and Dahomey. He completed his dissertation in 1934 with such distinction that he was awarded the Toppan Prize for outstanding research in social studies. From 1936 to 1938, on a Social Science Research Council fellowship, he did postdoctoral research in anthropology at Northwestern University, the London School of Economics, and Capetown University in South Africa. Throughout his career, Bunche has maintained strong ties with education. He chaired the Department of Political Science at Howard University from 1928 until 1950; taught at Harvard University from 1950 to 1952; served as a member of the New York City Board of Education (1958–1964), as a member of the Board of Overseers of Harvard University (1960–1965), as a member of the Board of the Institute of International Education, and as a trustee of Oberlin College, Lincoln University, and New Lincoln School. Bunche has always been active in the civil rights movement. At Howard University he was considered by some as a young radical intellectual who criticized both America’s social system and the established Negro organizations, but generally he is thought of as a moderate. From his experience as co-director of the Institute of Race Relations at Swarthmore College in 1936, added to his ﬁrsthand research performed earlier, he wrote A World View of Race (1936). He participated in the Carnegie Corporation’s well-known survey of the Negro in America, under the direction of the Swedish sociologist, Gunnar Myrdal, which resulted in the publication of Myrdal’s An American Dilemma (1944). He was a member of the Black Cabinet consulted on minority problems by Roosevelt’s administration; declined President Truman’s offer of the position of assistant secretary of state because of the segregated housing conditions in Washington, D. C.; helped to lead the civil rights march organized by Martin Luther King, Jr., in Montgomery, Alabama, in 1965; supported the action programs of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and of the Urban League. Bunche has not himself formed organizations, nor has he aspired to positions of administrative leadership in existing civil rights organizations. Rather, he has exerted his inﬂuence personally in speeches and publications, especially during the twenty-year period from 1945 to 1965. His message has been clear: Racial prejudice is an unreasoned phenomenon without scientiﬁc basis in biology or anthropology; segregation and democracy are incompatible; blacks should maintain the struggle for equal rights while accepting the responsibilities that come with freedom; whites must demonstrate that democracy is color-blind. Ralph Bunche’s enduring fame arises from his service to the U.S. government and to the UN. An adviser to the Department of State and to the military on Africa and colonial areas of strategic military importance during World War II, Bunche moved from his ﬁrst position as an analyst in the Ofﬁce of Strategic Services to the desk of acting chief of the Division of Dependent Area Affairs in the State Department. He also discharged various responsibilities in connection with international conferences of the Institute of Paciﬁc Relations, the UN, the International Labor Organization, and the Anglo-American Caribbean Commission. In 1946, UN Secretary-General Trygve Lie borrowed Bunche from the State Department and placed him in charge of the Department of Trusteeship of the UN to handle problems of the world’s peoples who had not yet attained self-government. He has been associated with the UN ever since.

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From June of 1947 to August of 1949, Bunche worked on the most important assignment of his career—the confrontation between Arabs and Jews in Palestine. He was ﬁrst appointed as assistant to the UN Special Committee on Palestine, then as principal secretary of the UN Palestine Commission, which was charged with carrying out the partition approved by the UN General Assembly. In early 1948 when this plan was dropped and ﬁghting between Arabs and Israelis became especially severe, the UN appointed Count Folke Bernadotte as mediator and Ralph Bunche as his chief aide. Four months later, on September 17, 1948, Count Bernadotte was assassinated, and Bunche was named acting UN mediator on Palestine. After eleven months of virtually ceaseless negotiating, Bunche obtained signatures on armistice agreements between Israel and the Arab States. Bunche returned home to a hero’s welcome. New York gave him a «ticker tape» parade up Broadway; Los Angeles declared a Ralph Bunche Day. He was besieged with requests to lecture, was awarded the Spingarn Prize by the NAACP in 1949, was given over thirty honorary degrees in the next three years, and the Nobel Peace Prize for 1950. Bunche still worked for the UN. From 1955 to 1967, he served as undersecretary for Special Political Affairs and since 1968 has been undersecretary-general. During these years he has taken on many special assignments. When war erupted in the Congo in 1960, Dag Hammarskj€ old, then secretary-general of the UN, appointed him as his special representative to oversee the UN commitments there. He has shouldered analogous duties in Cyprus, Kashmir, and Yemen. Source: Editor Frederick W. Haberman, Elsevier Publishing Company, Amsterdam, 1972. CopyC The Nobel Foundation 1950. right

115. Nobel Peace Prize Winner Ralph Bunche, Acceptance Speech, 1950 This the acceptance speech delivered by Ralph J. Bunche before the Nobel Committee. Bunche was the ﬁrst person of color to win the Nobel Peace Prize. He earned the award because of his tireless efforts to secure peace in the Middle East, particularly in Palestine. Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, Mr. President of the Nobel Committee, Ladies and Gentlemen: To be honored by one’s fellow men is a rich and pleasant experience. But to receive the uniquely high honor here bestowed today, because of the world view of Alfred Nobel long ago, is an overwhelming experience. To the President and members of the Nobel Committee I may say of their action, which at this hour ﬁnds its culmination, only that I am appreciative beyond the puny power of words to convey. I am inspired by your conﬁdence. I am not unaware, of course, of the special and broad signiﬁcance of this award— far transcending its importance or signiﬁcance to me as an individual—in an imperfect and restive World in which inequalities among peoples, racial and religious bigotries, prejudices and taboos are endemic and stubbornly persistent. From this northern land has come a vibrant note of hope and inspiration for vast millions of people whose bitter experience has impressed upon them that color and inequality are inexorably concomitant.

116. FBI Investigation of Malcolm X, 1925–1964

There are many who ﬁguratively stand beside me today and who are also honored here. I am but one of many cogs in the United Nations, the greatest peace organization ever dedicated to the salvation of mankind’s future on earth. It is, indeed, itself an honor to be enabled to practise the arts of peace under the aegis of the United Nations. As I now stand before you, I cannot help but reﬂect on the never-failing support and encouragement afforded me, during my difﬁcult assignment in the Near East, by Trygve Lie, and by his Executive Assistant, Andrew Cordier. Nor can I forget any of the more than 700 valiant men and women of the United Nations Palestine Mission who loyally served with Count Bernadotte and me, who were devoted servants of the cause of peace, and without whose tireless and fearless assistance our mission must surely have failed. At this moment, too, I recall, all too vividly and sorrowfully, that ten members of that mission gave their lives in the noble cause of peacemaking. But above all, there was my treasured friend and former chief, Count Folke Bernadotte, who made the supreme sacriﬁce to the end that Arabs and Jews should be returned to the ways of peace. Scandinavia, and the peaceloving world at large, may long revere his memory, as I shall do, as shall all of those who participated in the Palestine peace effort under his inspiring command. In a dark and perilous hour of human history, when the future of all mankind hangs fatefully in the balance, it is of special symbolic signiﬁcance that in Norway, this traditionally peace-loving nation, and among such friendly and kindly people of great good-will, this ceremony should be held for the exclusive purpose of paying high tribute to the sacred cause of peace on earth, good-will among men. May there be freedom, equality and brotherhood among all men. May there be morality in the relations among nations. May there be, in our time, at long last, a world at peace in which we, the people, may for once begin to make full use of the great good that is in us. Source: From Les Prix Nobel en 1950, Editor Arne Holmberg, Nobel Foundation, Stockholm, C The Nobel Foundation 1950. 1951. Copyright

116. FBI Investigation of Malcolm X, 1925–1964 Under the leadership of J. Edgar Hoover, director of the U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), the Justice Department launched a series of sweeping, long-term probes of U.S. citizens. Begun in the early 1950s, these domestic intelligence and spying operations were carried out in secret and were part of the Counterintelligence Program or Cointelpro. According to FBI documents obtained under the Freedom of Information Act, these operations targeted a wide range of citizens, including prominent political ﬁgures such as John F. Kennedy, entertainers such as actor and singer Paul Robeson, notorious gangsters and ordinary citizens suspected to have afﬁliations with Communist groups, and other people involved in activity deemed to be suspicious by the FBI bureaus or Justice Department ofﬁcials in Washington. Some of the primary targets of the Counterintelligence Program were black civil rights leaders such as W. E. B. DuBois, black union organizers such as A. Philip Randolph, and ‘‘the leadership of so-called Nationalist-Hate Groups,’’ according to FBI documents. ‘‘We should emphasize those leaders and organizations that are

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nationwide in scope are most capable of disrupting this country. These targets [are] members, and followers of the: Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), Revolutionary Action Movement (RAM), and Nation of Islam (NOI). Ofﬁces handling these cases and those of Stokely Carmichael of SNCC, H. Rap Brown of SNCC, Martin Luther King of SCLC, Maxwell Stanford of RAM, and Elijah Muhammad of NOI, should be alert for counterintelligence suggestions,’’ according to the documents. While political and civil rights activists, community organizers, the U.S. Congress, the courts, and government agencies had begun to take steps to assimilate African Americans into mainstream culture through legislation, court rulings, and political accommodations, the FBI’s secret campaign handicapped their efforts to ensure the legal and civil rights of black Americans. One of the FBI’s targets was Malcolm Little. The investigation of Little began in February of 1953 when Malcolm used the name ‘‘Malcolm K. Little’’ and lived in Inkster, Michigan, according to ofﬁcial FBI memos. The FBI ﬁle said the agency began investigating him to verify communist inﬂuence. His FBI ﬁle totaled 4,065 pages at the time of his death in 1965. During the 11-year investigation Malcolm Little became Malcolm X. He also rose to second in command in the ranks of the Nation of Islam, a black nationalist organization. By March 1964, however, following a dispute with the NOI leadership in Chicago, he had left the Nation of Islam and formed the Muslim Mosque, Inc. and the Organization of Afro-American Unity. He had also became known as the Minister of the Nation of Islam. Malcolm X was assassinated in 1965 while delivering a speech in New York City. Norman Butler, Thomas Johnson, and Talmage Hayer were convicted of Malcolm X’s murder, and all three were sentenced to life in prison. The following is an excerpt from the Malcolm X ﬁle compiled by the FBI. MALCOLM K. LITTLE currently resides at 23–11 97th Street, East Elmhurst, Queens, New York, a one family dwelling.… LITTLE is a key ﬁgure of the NYO [New York Nation of Islam Organization] and until December, 1963, he was the Minister of NOI Mosque #7, NYC, and the ofﬁcial national representative of ELIJAH MUHAMMAD the head of the NOI. He was considered to be the number two man in the NOI. In December, 1963, he was suspended from the NOI for 90 days. Because of an alleged power struggle within the NOI in which members of ELIJAH’s family fear that Malcolm will succeed to the leadership of the NOI, the suspension of subject was made indeﬁnite in March, 1964. On March 8, 1964, LITTLE announced that he was breaking with the NOI, although still a believer, and would speak out o his own forming his own ‘‘black nationalist’’ group. Although LITTLE indicated he would not form a rival organization to the NOI, it cannot yet be deﬁnitely determined whether he will or will not form his own defacto organization. Mar. 19, 1964 NY 105–8999 CONFIDENTIAL It is felt that a tesur on his telephone would provide invaluable information relative to his proposed activities in his new role, his supporters if any, and whether or not he will in fact establish his own organization.

116. FBI Investigation of Malcolm X, 1925–1964

Because of his split with the NOI, Bureau sources therein are of no value relative to LITTLE. Further, by this split he has deprived himself of working space and it is felt that most of his business will be conducted at his home and over his telephone. The NYO requests authority to conduct a survey to determine the feasibility of placing a tesur on the telephone of LITTLE. ROUTE IN ENVELOPE To: SAC, New York (105–8999) From: Director, FBI (100–399321)–86 MALCOLM K. LITTLE INTERNAL SECURITY—NOI CONFIDENTIAL REWRAIRTEL 3/11/64 Provided full security is assured, you are authorized to conduct a survey looking toward the instillation of a technical surveillance on telephone [number] OL1–6320 at the home of Malcolm K. Little, 23–11 97th Street, East Elmhurst, Queens, New York. Promptly advise results of same together with our recommendation regarding the installation of the technical surveillance. Note: Subject is former minister of Muslin Mosque Number 7, New York City, of the National of Islam (NOI) who was indeﬁnitely suspended by Muhammad, national NOI leader, for his remarks concerning the assassination of President Kennedy. Little has now announced he will form a politically oriented organization more militant than the NOI which will participate in civil rights activities. The New York Ofﬁce believes technical surveillance on Little’s residence would provide valuable information concerning his activities in this connection which would not otherwise be available CONFIDENTIAL Mar 23, 1964 UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT Memorandum To: Director, FBI DATE 3/30/64 FROM: SAC, NEW YORK (105–8999) Subject: RECOMMENDATION FOR INSTALLATION OF TECHNICAL OR MICROPHONE SURVEILLANCE RE; Title Malcolm K. Little aka 1. Name and address of subject: MALCOLM K. LITTLE 23–11 97th Street, East Elmhurst, Queens, NY 2. Location of technical operation: C 3. Other technical surveillance on same subject. NONE 4. Cost and manpower involved: Cost not known until installed. 5. Adequacy or security: Believed to be secured. 6. Type of case involved: Internal security case on Muslim Mosque, Inc., the newly formed black nationalist organization. 7. Connection or status of subject in the case: Leader and founder of the Muslim Mosque, Inc. 8. Speciﬁc information being sought: Information concerning contacts and activity of LITTLE and activity and growth of the Muslim Mosque, Inc.

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Voices of the African American Experience 9. Reasons for believing the speciﬁc information will be obtained by technical surveillance: LITTLE conducts business from his residence. 10. Importance of case and subject: Organization has philosophy of black nationalism, and has entered racial ﬁeld where it suggests formation of riﬂe clubs by negroes to defend themselves. 11. Possibilities of obtaining desired information by other means (Explain in detail): Only other plausible means … Since the organization is new (announced 3/12/64). 12. Risks of detection involved: Negligible to none. 13. Probable length of technical surveillance: Unknown. 14. Request made for technical surveillance by any outside agency (name speciﬁc ofﬁcials, title and agency): Not known. 15. Remarks: Recommend approval of installation. 16. Recommendation of Assistant Director.

4/22/64 Airtel To: SAC, New York (105–8999) From: Director, FBI (100–399321) MALCOLM K. LITTE INTERNAL SECURITY NOI CONFIDENTIAL Provided full security is assured, authority is granted to install tesur on the residence of Little, 23–11 97th Street, East Elmhurst, Queens, New York telephone number OL 1–6320. Advise time and date of installation and symbol number, Sulet justiﬁcation 30 days after installation and each three months thereafter. April 22, 1964 6/4/64 AIRTEL To: Director, FBI (100–399321) FROM: SAC, NEW YORK (105–8999) CONFIDENTIAL SUBJECT: MALCOLM K. LITTLE aka (00:New York ReBuairtel dated 4/22/64. Tesur on MALCOLM K. LITTLE, 23–11 97TH Street, East Elmhurst, Queens, NY, telephone number OL 1–6320, installed at 4:00 P.M., 6/3/64. UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT Memorandum TO: DIRECTOR, FBI DATE 7/2/64 FROM: SAC, NEW YORK (105–8999) SUBJECT: JUSTIFICATION FOR CONTINUATION OF TECHNICAL OR MICROPHONE SURVEILLANCE RE: Title MALCOLM K. LITTLE, aka 1. Name of person or organization on whom surveillance placed: MALCOLM K. LITTLE. 2. Address where installation made. Also give exact room number or area covered: 23–11 97th Street, East Elmhurst, Queens, New York (single family dwelling) 3. Location of monitoring plant: 4. Dates of initial authorization and installation: Authorized 4/22/64 Installed 4:00 P.M., 6/3/64 5. Previous and other installations on the same subject (with dates and places): None.

116. FBI Investigation of Malcolm X, 1925–1964 6. If installation is a technical surveillance, answer following questions: 7. If a microphone surveillance involved, state number of microphones actually used and location of each: No. 8. Is the installation part of________? If so, give symbol of other side of the combination: No. 9. Speciﬁc examples of valuable information obtained since previous report which indicate] of speciﬁc value of each item and the ate information received. State what use was made of each item involved: See attached. 10. Could above information have been obtained from other sources and by other means? No. 11. ________________________________________________________? 12. Has security factor changed since installation? 13. Any request for the surveillance by outside agency (give name, title and agency): No. 14. ______________________________________________________? 15. ______________________________________________________ ? 16. Personnel Costs_______________________________________________________? 17. Remarks ( By SAC): It is recommended that this source be continued in view of the prominence of LITTLE as a militant ﬁgure in the civil rights ﬁeld, particularly as the leader of the Muslin Mosque, Inc and the organization of Afro-American Unity. Recommendation by Assistant Director: This technical surveillance is in the single family dwelling occupied by Malcolm K. Little, 23–11 97th Street, East Elmhurst, Queens, New York. It was ﬁrst installed on 6/3/64. Little is a former national ofﬁcial of the Nation of Islam (NOI) who broke with that organization on 3/8/64 and formed Muslim Mosque, Incorporated (MMI) which he announced would be a broadly based black nationalist movement for Negroes only. Little has urged Negroes to abandon the doctrine of nonviolence and advocated that Negroes should form riﬂe clubs to protect their lives and property. At MMI rallies, Little has surrounded himself by guards armed with riﬂes and there have been numerous incidents recently involving gun-wielding MMI members where violence has been averted only by timely police action. At an MMI rally on 6/28/64, Little announced the formation of a new nonwhite civil rights action group called the ‘‘Organization of Afro-American Unity’’ with headquarters at MMI headquarters in New York City the aim of which would be to bring the United States racial problems before the United Nations and which would engage in civil rights demonstrations using the theme ‘‘by any means necessary.’’

In the past 30 days this technical surveillance has furnished valuable information on Little’s travel plans, on the new Organization of Afro-American Unity, facts concerning the arrest of MMI members in Boston on a weapons charge following an altercation with Boston NOI members and information on a threat to Little’s life by a person unknown. It also furnished information that Little was sending an assistant to Phoenix and Los Angeles to contact two women who had illegitimate children by Elijah Muhammad, NOI leader. Public announcement of these children by Little has caused the virtual state of war now existant (cq) between the NOI and MMI. On 6/30/64 information war between the NOI and MMI. On 6/30/64 information was received that Little sent telegrams to civil rights leaders Dr. Martin Luther King and James Foreman offering to send his followers to teach self-defense to Negroes if the Government did not provide Federal troops for protection. All of the above information was furnished immediately to the Bureau and was disseminated to the Department and interested agencies. The Domestic Intelligence Division concurs with the recommendation of SAC, New York, that this installation be continued for additional three months.

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UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT Memorandum DATE: July 28, 1964 TO: Mr. W. C.Sullivan From: Mr. F. J. Baumgardner SUBJECT: MUSLIM MOSQUE, INCORPORATED INTERNAL SECURITY— MMI Reference is made to memorandum C. D. DeLoach to Mr. Mohr, dated 7/25/64, captioned ‘‘Racial Riots,’’ and speciﬁcally to the last recommendation concerning establishment of additional technical and photographic surveillance coverage Malcolm X Little and the Muslim Mosque, Incorporated (MMI) In connection with this matter it is noted Malcolm X Little is out of the U.S. on a tour of African nations and is not expected to return until 8/15/64. We presently have technical coverage on the residence of Malcolm X Little which is producing considerable valuable information. The New York Ofﬁce has conducted surveys to determine whether additional installations are feasible … A survey was also conducted by New York regarding the feasibility of installing microphone surveillances both at Little’s residence and at the hotel. New York points out that the headquarters of MMI will be moved as soon as Little returns to the U.S. and such installations at this time would be impractical. New York also points out that microphone surveillances could not be monitored at the hotel or nearby … New York points out that the wife and child of Little are constantly at his residence and there are a number of Negroes constantly around the residence. Little has also maintained guards at his residence since receiving threats of bodily harm. Monitoring of microphone surveillances on the residence of Little could not be handled in the immediate neighborhood. Microphone coverage is not feasible at his residence. CONFIDENTIAL UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT Memorandum To: Director, FBI 10/2/64 FROM: SAC, NEW YORK It is recommended that this source be continued in view of the prominence of LITTLE as a militant ﬁgure in the civil rights ﬁeld, particularly as the leader of the Muslim Mosque Inc., and the Organization of Afro-American Unity. Plus the fact that source recently advised that MALCOLM, who has been in Egypt since July, 1964, at the expense of the Egyptian Government, and expected to return to New York on 11/15/64, has been appointed to the board of the Supreme Council governing Islamic affairs and is qualiﬁed to spread Islam in America among the Afro-Americans … Source has furnished the following valuable information on dates indicated: 7/3/64 Information that MALCOLM notiﬁed New York City Police Department that an attempt was made on his life. 7/4/64 Information that MALCOLM and his followers were attempting to make a big issue out of the reported attempt on MALCOLM’s life in order to get the Negro people to support Him. (Police believe complaint on an attempt on MALCOLM’s life was a publicity stung by MALCOLM) (Teletype to Bureau 7/4/64) … Source: Freedom of Information request, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Department of Justice. http://foia.fbi.gov/foiaindex/malcolmx.htm.

117. Supreme Court of the United States in Brown vs. Board of Education, 1954 517

117. Supreme Court of the United States in Brown vs. Board of Education, 1954 One of the most important U.S. Supreme Court cases in American history, the Brown vs. Board of Education decision reversed generations of jurisprudence. Ofﬁcially overturning the separate but equal doctrine set by the 1896 Plessy v. Ferguson decision, the Brown decision mandated that states provide for integration of schools. Arguing for the plaintiffs, young African American attorney Thurgood Marshall marked the start of a career that would eventually lead him to sitting on the Supreme Court. The ﬁrestorm that erupted as a result of the decision would provide the impetus for both pro- and anti-civil rights leaders in the 1960s. APPEAL FROM THE UNITED STATES DISTRICT COURT FOR THE DISTRICT OF KANSAS Syllabus Segregation of white and Negro children in the public schools of a State solely on the basis of race, pursuant to state laws permitting or requiring such segregation, denies to Negro children the equal protection of the laws guaranteed by the Fourteenth Amendment—even though the physical facilities and other ‘‘tangible’’ factors of white and Negro schools may be equal. (a) The history of the Fourteenth Amendment is inconclusive as to its intended effect on public education. (b) The question presented in these cases must be determined not on the basis of conditions existing when the Fourteenth Amendment was adopted, but in the light of the full development of public education and its present place in American life throughout the Nation. (c) Where a State has undertaken to provide an opportunity for an education in its public schools, such an opportunity is a right which must be made available to all on equal terms. (d) Segregation of children in public schools solely on the basis of race deprives children of the minority group of equal educational opportunities, even though the physical facilities and other ‘‘tangible’’ factors may be equal. (e) The ‘‘separate but equal’’ doctrine adopted in Plessy v. Ferguson, 163 U.S. 537, has no place in the ﬁeld of public education. (f) The cases are restored to the docket for further argument on speciﬁed questions relating to the forms of the decrees.

Opinion MR. CHIEF JUSTICE EARL WARREN delivered the opinion of the Court. These cases come to us from the States of Kansas, South Carolina, Virginia, and Delaware. They are premised on different facts and different local conditions, but a common legal question justiﬁes their consideration together in this consolidated opinion. In each of the cases, minors of the Negro race, through their legal representatives, seek the aid of the courts in obtaining admission to the public schools of their community on a nonsegregated basis. In each instance, they had been denied admission to schools attended by white children under laws requiring or permitting segregation according to race. This segregation was alleged to deprive the plaintiffs of the equal protection of the laws under the Fourteenth Amendment. In each of the cases

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other than the Delaware case, a three-judge federal district court denied relief to the plaintiffs on the so-called ‘‘separate but equal’’ doctrine announced by this Court in Plessy v. Ferguson, 163 U.S. 537. Under that doctrine, equality of treatment is accorded when the races are provided substantially equal facilities, even though these facilities be separate. In the Delaware case, the Supreme Court of Delaware adhered to that doctrine, but ordered that the plaintiffs be admitted to the white schools because of their superiority to the Negro schools. The plaintiffs contend that segregated public schools are not ‘‘equal’’ and cannot be made ‘‘equal,’’ and that hence they are deprived of the equal protection of the laws. Because of the obvious importance of the question presented, the Court took jurisdiction. Argument was heard in the 1952 Term, and reargument was heard this Term on certain questions propounded by the Court. Reargument was largely devoted to the circumstances surrounding the adoption of the Fourteenth Amendment in 1868. It covered exhaustively consideration of the Amendment in Congress, ratiﬁcation by the states, then-existing practices in racial segregation, and the views of proponents and opponents of the Amendment. This discussion and our own investigation convince us that, although these sources cast some light, it is not enough to resolve the problem with which we are faced. At best, they are inconclusive. The most avid proponents of the post-War Amendments undoubtedly intended them to remove all legal distinctions among ‘‘all persons born or naturalized in the United States.’’ Their opponents, just as certainly, were antagonistic to both the letter and the spirit of the Amendments and wished them to have the most limited effect. What others in Congress and the state legislatures had in mind cannot be determined with any degree of certainty. An additional reason for the inconclusive nature of the Amendment’s history with respect to segregated schools is the status of public education at that time. In the South, the movement toward free common schools, supported by general taxation, had not yet taken hold. Education of white children was largely in the hands of private groups. Education of Negroes was almost nonexistent, and practically all of the race were illiterate. In fact, any education of Negroes was forbidden by law in some states. Today, in contrast, many Negroes have achieved outstanding success in the arts and sciences, as well as in the business and professional world. It is true that public school education at the time of the Amendment had advanced further in the North, but the effect of the Amendment on Northern States was generally ignored in the congressional debates. Even in the North, the conditions of public education did not approximate those existing today. The curriculum was usually rudimentary; ungraded schools were common in rural areas; the school term was but three months a year in many states, and compulsory school attendance was virtually unknown. As a consequence, it is not surprising that there should be so little in the history of the Fourteenth Amendment relating to its intended effect on public education. In the ﬁrst cases in this Court construing the Fourteenth Amendment, decided shortly after its adoption, the Court interpreted it as proscribing all state-imposed discriminations against the Negro race. The doctrine of ‘‘separate but equal’’ did not make its appearance in this Court until 1896 in the case of Plessy v. Ferguson, supra, involving not education but transportation. American courts have since labored with the doctrine for over half a century. In this Court, there have been six cases involving the ‘‘separate but equal’’ doctrine in the ﬁeld of public education. In Cumming v. County Board of Education, 175 U.S. 528, and Gong Lum v. Rice, 275 U.S.

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78, the validity of the doctrine itself was not challenged. In more recent cases, all on the graduate school level, inequality was found in that speciﬁc beneﬁts enjoyed by white students were denied to Negro students of the same educational qualiﬁcations. Missouri ex rel. Gaines v. Canada, 305 U.S. 337; Sipuel v. Oklahoma, 332 U.S. 631; Sweatt v. Painter, 339 U.S. 629; McLaurin v. Oklahoma State Regents, 339 U.S. 637. In none of these cases was it necessary to reexamine the doctrine to grant relief to the Negro plaintiff. And in Sweatt v. Painter, supra, the Court expressly reserved decision on the question whether Plessy v. Ferguson should be held inapplicable to public education. In the instant cases, that question is directly presented. Here, unlike Sweatt v. Painter, there are ﬁndings below that the Negro and white schools involved have been equalized, or are being equalized, with respect to buildings, curricula, qualiﬁcations and salaries of teachers, and other ‘‘tangible’’ factors. Our decision, therefore, cannot turn on merely a comparison of these tangible factors in the Negro and white schools involved in each of the cases. We must look instead to the effect of segregation itself on public education. In approaching this problem, we cannot turn the clock back to 1868, when the Amendment was adopted, or even to 1896, when Plessy v. Ferguson was written. We must consider public education in the light of its full development and its present place in American life throughout the Nation. Only in this way can it be determined if segregation in public schools deprives these plaintiffs of the equal protection of the laws. Today, education is perhaps the most important function of state and local governments. Compulsory school attendance laws and the great expenditures for education both demonstrate our recognition of the importance of education to our democratic society. It is required in the performance of our most basic public responsibilities, even service in the armed forces. It is the very foundation of good citizenship. Today it is a principal instrument in awakening the child to cultural values, in preparing him for later professional training, and in helping him to adjust normally to his environment. In these days, it is doubtful that any child may reasonably be expected to succeed in life if he is denied the opportunity of an education. Such an opportunity, where the state has undertaken to provide it, is a right which must be made available to all on equal terms. We come then to the question presented: Does segregation of children in public schools solely on the basis of race, even though the physical facilities and other ‘‘tangible’’ factors may be equal, deprive the children of the minority group of equal educational opportunities? We believe that it does. In Sweatt v. Painter, supra, in ﬁnding that a segregated law school for Negroes could not provide them equal educational opportunities, this Court relied in large part on ‘‘those qualities which are incapable of objective measurement but which make for greatness in a law school.’’ In McLaurin v. Oklahoma State Regents, supra, the Court, in requiring that a Negro admitted to a white graduate school be treated like all other students, again resorted to intangible considerations: ‘‘… his ability to study, to engage in discussions and exchange views with other students, and, in general, to learn his profession.’’ Such considerations apply with added force to children in grade and high schools. To separate them from others of similar age and qualiﬁcations solely because of their race generates a feeling of inferiority as to their status in the community that may affect their hearts and minds in a way unlikely ever to

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be undone. The effect of this separation on their educational opportunities was well stated by a ﬁnding in the Kansas case by a court which nevertheless felt compelled to rule against the Negro plaintiffs: Segregation of white and colored children in public schools has a detrimental effect upon the colored children. The impact is greater when it has the sanction of the law, for the policy of separating the races is usually interpreted as denoting the inferiority of the negro group. A sense of inferiority affects the motivation of a child to learn. Segregation with the sanction of law, therefore, has a tendency to [retard] the educational and mental development of negro children and to deprive them of some of the beneﬁts they would receive in a racial[ly] integrated school system. Whatever may have been the extent of psychological knowledge at the time of Plessy v. Ferguson, this ﬁnding is amply supported by modern authority. Any language in Plessy v. Ferguson contrary to this ﬁnding is rejected. We conclude that, in the ﬁeld of public education, the doctrine of ‘‘separate but equal’’ has no place. Separate educational facilities are inherently unequal. Therefore, we hold that the plaintiffs and others similarly situated for whom the actions have been brought are, by reason of the segregation complained of, deprived of the equal protection of the laws guaranteed by the Fourteenth Amendment. This disposition makes unnecessary any discussion whether such segregation also violates the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. Because these are class actions, because of the wide applicability of this decision, and because of the great variety of local conditions, the formulation of decrees in these cases presents problems of considerable complexity. On reargument, the consideration of appropriate relief was necessarily subordinated to the primary question—the constitutionality of segregation in public education. We have now announced that such segregation is a denial of the equal protection of the laws. In order that we may have the full assistance of the parties in formulating decrees, the cases will be restored to the docket, and the parties are requested to present further argument on Questions 4 and 5 previously propounded by the Court for the reargument this Term. The Attorney General of the United States is again invited to participate. The Attorneys General of the states requiring or permitting segregation in public education will also be permitted to appear as amici curiae upon request to do so by September 15, 1954, and submission of briefs by October 1, 1954. It is so ordered. Source: Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U.S. 483 (1954) Argued December 9, 1952. Reargued December 8, 1953. Decided May 17, 1954.

118. Negro as an American, 1963 LYNDON B. JOHNSON, ROBERT C. WEAVER, JOSEPH P. LYFORD, AND JOHN COGLEY This is an excerpt from a speech given by Robert C. Weaver, the ﬁrst black cabinet member in the administration of President Lyndon B. Johnson. He was Secretary of the Housing and Urban Development. When the average well-informed and well-intentioned white American discusses the issue of race with his Negro counterpart there are many areas of agreement. There are also certain signiﬁcant areas of disagreement.

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Negro Americans usually feel that whites exaggerate progress; while whites frequently feel that Negroes minimize gains. Then there are differences relative to the responsibility of Negro leadership. It is in these areas of dispute that some of the most subtle and revealing aspects of Negro-white relationships reside. And it is to the subtle and less obvious aspects of this problem that I wish to direct my remarks. Most middle-class white Americans frequently ask, ‘‘Why do Negroes push so? They have made phenomenal progress in 100 years of freedom, so why don’t their leaders do something about the crime rate and illegitimacy?’’ To them I would reply that when Negroes press for full equality now they are behaving as all other Americans would under similar circumstances. Every American has the right to be treated as a human being and striving for human dignity is a national characteristic. Also, there is nothing inconsistent in such action and realistic self-appraisal. Indeed, as I shall develop, self-help programs among non-whites, if they are to be effective, must go hand-in-glove with the opening of new opportunities. Negroes who are constantly confronted or threatened by discrimination and inequality articulate a sense of outrage. Many react with hostility, sometimes translating their feelings into overt anti-social actions. In parts of the Negro community a separate culture with deviant values develops. To the members of this subculture I would observe that ours is a middle-class society and those who fail to evidence most of its values and behavior are headed toward difﬁculties. But I am reminded that the rewards for those who do are often minimal, providing insufﬁcient inducement for large numbers to emulate them. Until the second decade of the twentieth century, it was traditional to compare the then current position of Negroes with that of a decade or several decades ago. The depression revealed the basic marginal economic status of colored Americans and repudiated this concept of progress. By the early 1930s Negroes became concerned about their relative position in the nation. Of course, there are those who observe that the average income, the incidence of home ownership, the rate of acquisition of automobiles, and the like, among Negroes in the United States are higher than in some so-called advanced nations. Such comparisons mean little. Incomes are signiﬁcant only in relation to the cost of living, and the other attainments and acquisitions are signiﬁcant for comparative purposes only when used to reﬂect the Negro’s relative position in the world. The Negro here—as he has so frequently and eloquently demonstrated—is an American. And his status, no less than his aspirations, can be measured meaningfully only in terms of American standards. Viewed from this point of view what are the facts? Median family income among non-whites was slightly less than 55 percent of that for whites in 1959; for individuals the ﬁgure was 50 percent. Only a third of the Negro families in 1959 earned sufﬁcient to sustain an acceptable American standard of living. Yet this involved well over a million Negro families, of which 6,000 earned $25,000 or more. Undergirding these overall ﬁgures are many paradoxes. Negroes have made striking gains in historical terms, yet their current rate of unemployment is well over double that among whites. Over two-thirds of our colored workers are still concentrated in ﬁve major unskilled and semi-skilled occupations, as contrasted to slightly over a third of the white labor force.

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Despite the continuing existence of color discrimination even for many of the well prepared, there is a paucity of qualiﬁed Negro scientists, engineers, mathematicians, and highly-trained clerical and stenographic workers. Lack of college-trained persons is especially evident among Negro men. One is prompted to ask why does this exist? In 1959 non-white males who were high school graduates earned on the average, 32 percent less than whites; for non-white college graduates the ﬁgure was 38 percent less. Among women a much different situation exists. Non-white women who were high school graduates earned on the average some 24 percent less than whites. Non-white female college graduates, however, earned but slightly over one percent less average annual salaries than white women college graduates. Signiﬁcantly, the median annual income of non-white female college graduates was more than double that of non-white women with only high school education. Is it any wonder that among non-whites, as contrasted to whites, a larger proportion of women than of men attend and ﬁnish college? The lack of economic rewards for higher education goes far in accounting for the paucity of college graduates and the high rate of drop-out among non-white males. It also accounts for the fact that in the North, where there are greater opportunities for white-collar Negro males, more Negro men than women are ﬁnishing college; whereas in the South, where teaching is the greatest employment outlet for Negro college graduates, Negro women college graduates outnumber men. There is much in these situations that reﬂects the continuing matriarchal character of Negro society—in a situation which had its roots in the family composition under slavery where the father, if identiﬁed, had no established role. Subsequent and continuing economic advantages of Negro women who found steady employment as domestics during the post Civil War era and thereafter perpetuated the pattern. This, in conjunction with easy access of white males to Negro females, served to emasculate many Negro men economically and psychologically. It also explains, in part, the high prevalence of broken homes, illegitimacy, and lack of motivation in the Negro community. The Negro middle-class seems destined to grow and prosper. At the same time, the economic position of the untrained and poorly trained Negro—as of all untrained and poorly trained in our society—will continue to decline. Non-whites are doubly affected. First, they are disproportionately concentrated in occupations particularly susceptible to unemployment at a time when our technology eats up unskilled and semi-skilled jobs at a frightening rate. Secondly, they are conditioned to racial job discrimination. The latter circumstance becomes a justiﬁcation for not trying, occasioning a lack of incentive for self-betterment. The tragedy of discrimination is that it provides an excuse for failure while erecting barriers to success. Most colored Americans still are not only outside the mainstream of our society but see no hope of entering it. The lack of motivation and anti-social behavior which result are capitalized upon by the champions of the status quo. They say that the average Negro must demonstrate to the average white that the latter’s fears are groundless. One proponent of this point of view has stated that Negro crime and illegitimacy must decline and Negro neighborhoods must stop deteriorating. In these observations lie a volume on race relations. In the ﬁrst place, those who articulate this point of view fail to differentiate between acceptance as earned by

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individual merit and enjoyment of rights guaranteed to everyone. Implicit, also, is the assumption that Negroes can lift themselves by their bootstraps, and that once they become brown counterparts of white middle-class Americans, they will be accepted on the basis of individual merit. Were this true, our race problem would be no more than a most recent phase in the melting pot tradition of the nation. As compared to the earlier newcomers to our cities from Europe, the later ones who are colored face much greater impediments in moving from the slums or from the bottom of the economic ladder. At the same time, they have less resources to meet the more difﬁcult problems which confront them. One of the most obvious manifestations of the Negro’s paucity of internal resources is the absence of widespread integrated patterns of voluntary organizations. The latter, as we know, contributed greatly to the adjustment and assimilation of European immigrants. Both the Negro’s heritage and the nature of his migration in the United States militated against the development of similar institutions. Slavery and resulting post-civil war dependence upon whites stiﬂed self-reliance. Movement from the rural south to northern cities was a far cry from immigration from Europe to the new world. This internal migration was not an almost complete break with the past, nor were those who participated in it subjected to feelings of complete foreignness. Thus the Negro tended to preserve his old institutions when he moved from one part of the nation to another; the immigrant created new ones. And most important, the current adjustment of non-whites to an urban environment is occurring at a time when public agencies are rapidly supplanting voluntary organizations. Although much is written about crime and family disorganization among Negroes, most literate Americans are poorly informed on such matters. The ﬁrst fallacy which arises is a confusion of what racial crime ﬁgures reﬂect. When people read that more than half the crime in a given community is committed by Negroes they unconsciously translate this into an equally high proportion of Negroes who are criminals. In fact, the latter proportion is extremely small. In a similar vein, family stability, as indicated by the presence of both husband and wife, which is very low among the poorest non-whites, rises sharply as income increases. Equally revealing is the fact that, in all parts of the country, the proportion of non-white families with female heads falls as incomes rise. A good, steady paycheck appears to be an important element in family stability. Those Negroes who have been able to improve their economic position have generally taken on many of the attributes of white middle-class Americans. But poverty still haunts half of the Negroes in the united states, and while higher levels of national productivity are a sine qua non for higher levels of employment in the nation, they alone will not wipe out unemployment, especially for minorities. The labor reserve of today must be trained if it is to ﬁnd gainful employment. Among non-whites this frequently involves more than exposure to vocational training. Many of them are functionally illiterate and require basic education prior to any specialized job preparation. The very magnitude of these problems illustrates that society must take the leadership in solving them. But society can only provide greater opportunities. The individual must respond to the new opportunities. And he does so, primarily, in terms of visible evidence that hard work and sacriﬁce bring real rewards.

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Many white Americans are perplexed, confused, and antagonized by Negroes’ persistent pressure to break down racial segregation. Few pause to consider what involuntary segregation means to its victims. To the Negro, as an American, involuntary segregation is degrading, inconvenient and costly. It is degrading because it is a tangible and constant reminder of the theory upon which it is based—biological racial inferiority. It is inconvenient because it means long trips to work, exclusion from certain cultural and recreational facilities, lack of access to restaurants and hotels conveniently located, and, frequently, relegation to grossly inferior accommodations. Sometimes it spells denial of a job and often it prevents upgrading based on ability. But the principal disadvantage of involuntary segregation is its costliness. Nowhere is this better illustrated than in education and housing. By any and all criteria, separate schools are generally inferior schools in which the cultural deprivations of the descendants of slaves are perpetuated. Enforced residential segregation, the most stubborn and universal of the Negro’s disadvantages, often leads to exploitation and effects a spatial pattern which facilitates neglect of public services in the well-deﬁned areas where Negroes live. It restricts the opportunities of the more successful as well as the least successful in the group, augmenting artiﬁcially the number of non-whites who live in areas of blight and neglect and face impediments to the attainment of values and behavior required for upward social and economic mobility. The most obvious consequence of involuntary residential segregation is that the housing dollar in a dark hand usually commands less purchasing power than one in a white hand. Clearly, this is a denial of a basic promise of a free economy. For immigrant groups in the nation, the trend toward improved socioeconomic status has gone hand-in-hand with decreasing residential segregation. The reverse has been true of the Negro. Eli Ginzberg, in his book, The Negro Potential, has delineated the consequences. It must be recognized that the Negro cannot suddenly take his proper place among whites in the adult world if he has never lived, played, and studied with them in childhood and young adulthood. Any type of segregation handicaps a person’s preparation for work and life … Only when Negro and white families can live together as neighbors … Will the Negro grow up properly prepared for his place in the world of work. Residential segregation based on color cannot be separated from residential segregation based upon income. Both have snob and class appeal in contemporary America. Concentration of higher income families in the suburbs means that many of those whose attitudes and values dominate our society do not see the poor or needy. But more important, cut off by political boundaries, it is to their interest not to see them. Yet there are over 30,000,000 Americans who experience poverty today. For the most part, we resent them and the outlays required for welfare services. They are a group which is separate from the majority of Americans and for whom the latter accept only the minimum responsibility. Thus we have, for the ﬁrst time, class unemployment in the United States. I happen to have been born a Negro and to have devoted a large part of my adult energies to the problem of the role of the Negro in America. But I am also a government administrator, and have devoted just as much energy—if not more—to problems of government administration at the local, the state and the national level.

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My responsibilities as a Negro and an American are part of the heritage I received from my parents—a heritage that included a wealth of moral and social values that don’t have anything to do with my race. My responsibilities as a government administrator don’t have too much to do with my race, either. My greatest difﬁculty in public life is combating the idea that somehow my responsibilities as a Negro conﬂict with my responsibilities as a government administrator: and this is a problem which is presented by those Negroes who feel that I represent them exclusively, as well as by those whites who doubt my capacity to represent all elements in the population. The fact is that my responsibilities as a Negro and a government administrator do not conﬂict; they complement each other. The challenge frequently thrown to me is why I don’t go out into the Negro community and exhort Negro youths to prepare themselves for present and future opportunities. My answer is somewhat ambivalent. I know that emphasis upon values and behavior conducive to success in the dominant culture of America was an important part of my youthful training. But it came largely from my parents in the security and love of a middle-class family. (And believe me, there is nothing more middle-class than a middle-class minority family!) Many of the youth which I am urged to exhort come from broken homes. They live in communities where the fellow who stays in school and follows the rules is a ‘‘square.’’ They reside in a neighborhood where the most successful are often engaged in shady—if not illegal—activities. They know that the very policeman who may arrest them for violation of the law is sometimes the pay-off man for the racketeers. And they recognize that the majority society, which they frequently believe to be the ‘‘enemy,’’ condones this situation. Their experience also leads some of them to believe that getting the kind of job the residents in the neighborhood hold is unrewarding—a commitment to hard work and poverty. For almost all of them, the precepts of Ben Franklin are lily-like in their applicability. Included in the group are the third generation of welfare clients. It is in this area—where they learn all the jargon of the social workers and psychologists—that they demonstrate real creativity. It is in activities which ‘‘beat’’ the system that they are most adept—and where the most visible rewards are concentrated. All youth is insecure today. Young people in our slums are not only insecure but angry. Their horizons are limited, and, in withdrawing from competing in the larger society, they are creating a peculiar, but effective, feeling of something that approaches, or at least serves as a viable substitute for, security. In the process, new values and aspirations, a new vocabulary, a new standard of dress, and a new attitude toward authority evolve. Each of these serves to demonstrate a separateness from the dominant culture. As a realist, I know that these youth relate with me primarily in a negative sense. They see me in terms of someone who has been able to penetrate, to a degree, the color line, and to them I have bettered the ‘‘enemy.’’ If I should attempt to suggest their surmounting the restrictions of color, they cite instances of persons they know who were qualiﬁed—the relatively few boys or girls in their neighborhood who ﬁnished high school or even college—only to be ignored while white youths with much less training were selected for good jobs. And such occurrences are not unique or isolated in their experience. The example which will be an inspiration to the Negro boys and girls whose anti-social behavior distresses most whites and many Negroes is someone they know

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who has experienced what they have experienced and has won acceptance in the mainstream of America. When the Ralph Bunches, William Hasties, and John Hope Franklins emerge from their environment, the achievements of these successful Negroes will provide models which have meaning for them. This is reﬂected in the occupations which provide the greatest incidence of mobility for slum youth. One thinks immediately of prize ﬁghting and jazz music. In these ﬁelds there is a well established tradition of Negroes, reared in the ghetto areas of blight and poverty, who have gone to the top. For youth in a similar environment, these are heroes with whom they can and do identify and relate. And in these ﬁelds, a signiﬁcant proportion of the successful are non-whites. For only in those pursuits in which native genius can surmount (if indeed it does not proﬁt from) lack of high level training does the dominant environment of the Negro facilitate largescale achievement. For many successful older colored Americans, middle-class status has been difﬁcult. Restricted, in large measure, to racial ghettos, they have expended great effort to protect their children from falling back into the dominant values of that environment. And these values are probably more repugnant to them than to most Americans. This is understandable in terms of their social origins. For the most part, they come from lower-middle class families, where industry, good conduct, family ties, and a willingness to postpone immediate rewards for future successes are stressed. Their values and standards of conduct are those of success-oriented middle-class Americans. It is not that responsible Negroes fail to feel shame about muggings, illegitimacy, and boisterousness on the part of other Negroes. Many—particularly the older ones—feel too much shame in this connection. Accordingly, some either repudiate the ‘‘culprits’’ in terms of scathing condemnation or try to escape from the problem lest it endanger their none too secure status. These attitudes, too, are shifting. The younger middle-class Negroes are more secure and consequently place less stress upon the quest for respectability. But few Negroes are immune from the toll of upward mobility. Frequently their struggle has been difﬁcult, and the maintenance of their status demands a heavy input. As long as this is true, they will have less energy to devote to the problems of the Negro subculture. It is signiﬁcant, however, that the sit-ins and freedom marches in the south were planned and executed by Negro college students most of whom come from middle-class families. Middle-class Negroes have long led the ﬁght for civil rights; today its youthful members do not hesitate to resort to direct action, articulating the impatience which is rife throughout the Negro community. In so doing they are forging a new solidarity in the struggle for human dignity. There are today, as there always have been, thousands of dedicated colored Americans who don’t make the headlines but are successful in raising the horizons of Negroes. These are the less well-known leaders who function at the local level. The teachers, social workers, local political leaders, ministers, doctors, and an assortment of indigenous leaders—many among the latter with little formal education— who are effective have familiarized themselves with the environmental factors which dull and destroy motivation. They become involved with the total Negro community. They demonstrate—rather than verbalize—a concern for Negro youth’s problems. They are trying to reach these young people, not by coddling and providing

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excuses for failure, but through identiﬁcation of their potentialities and assistance in the development of these. Involved are both genuine affection and sufﬁcient toughness to facilitate and encourage the development of self-reliance. Those, white and black alike, who reach the newcomers in our urban areas avoid value judgments relative to cultural patterns. When they suggest thrift, good deportment, greater emphasis upon education and training, they do so as a pragmatic approach. For them, it is not a matter of proselytizing, but in a matter of delineating those values and patterns of behavior that accelerate upward mobility in contemporary American society. Such a sophisticated approach enables them to identify deviations from dominant values and conduct which are not inconsistent with a productive and healthy life in modern urban communities. The latter are left undisturbed, so that there will be a minimum adjustment of values and concepts and the maximum functional effectiveness on the part of individuals who will not soon become middle-class America. What are the responsibilities of Negro leadership? Certainly the ﬁrst is to keep pressing for ﬁrst-class citizenship status—an inevitable goal of those who accept the values of this nation. Another responsibility of Negro leadership is to encourage and assist Negroes to prepare for the opportunities that are now and will be opened to them. The ultimate responsibilities of Negro leadership, however, are to show results and maintain a following. This means that it cannot be so ‘‘responsible’’ that it forgets the trials and tribulations of others who are less fortunate or less recognized than itself. It cannot stress progress—the emphasis which is so palatable to the majority group—without, at the same time, delineating the unsolved business of democracy. It cannot provide or identify meaningful models unless it effects social changes which facilitate the emergence of these models from the environment which typiﬁes so much of the Negro community. But Negro leadership must also face up to the deﬁciencies which plague the Negro community, and it must take effective action to deal with resulting problems. While, of course, crime, poverty, illegitimacy and hopelessness can all be explained, in large measure, in terms of the Negro’s history and current status in America, they do exist. We need no longer be self-conscious in admitting these unpleasant facts, for our knowledge of human behavior indicates clearly that anti-social activities are not inherent in any people. What is required is comprehension of these—a part of society’s problems—and remedial and rehabilitation measures. Emphasis upon self-betterment if employed indiscriminately by Negro leaders is seized upon by white supremacists and their apologists to support the assertion that Negroes—and they mean all Negroes—are not ready for full citizenship. This, because of the nature of our society, Negro leadership must continue to stress rights if it is to receive a hearing for programs of self-improvement. Black Muslims, who identify the white man as the devil, can and do emphasize— with a remarkable degree of success—morality, industry, and good conduct. But, the Negro leader who does not repudiate his or his followers’ Americanism can do so effectively only as he, too, clearly repudiates identiﬁcation with the white supremacists. This he does, of course, when he champions equal rights, just as the black Muslims accomplish it by directing hate toward all white people. Most Negroes in leadership capacities have articulated the fact that they and those who follow them are a part of America. They have striven for realization of

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the American dream. Most recognize their responsibilities as citizens and urge others to follow their example. Sophisticated whites realize that the status of Negroes in our society depends not only upon what the Negro does to achieve his goals and prepare himself for opportunities but, even more, upon what all America does to expand these opportunities. And the quality and nature of future Negro leadership depends upon how effective those leaders who relate to the total society can be in satisfying the yearnings for human dignity which reside in the hearts of all Americans. Source: Santa Barbara: Center for the Study of Democratic Institutions, 1963. Courtesy of New Perspectives Quarterly.

119. President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Address Before a Joint Session of the Congress, November 27, 1963 Long the brainchild of civil rights pioneer Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., the proposed civil rights bill was ﬁnally presented to Congress just days after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Just months earlier, Kennedy had pledged to King that he would ﬁnally support the bill. True to the fallen president’s word, President Lyndon B. Johnson pushed through Congress what would become the Civil Rights Act of 1964. He addressed Congress in 1963 about the proposed civil rights bill before it became a law. President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Address Before a Joint Session of the Congress November 27, 1963 Mr. Speaker, Mr. President, Members of the House, Members of the Senate, my fellow Americans: All I have I would have given gladly not to be standing here today. The greatest leader of our time has been struck down by the foulest deed of our time. Today John Fitzgerald Kennedy lives on in the immortal words and works that he left behind. He lives on in the mind and memories of mankind. He lives on in the hearts of his countrymen. No words are sad enough to express our sense of loss. No words are strong enough to express our determination to continue the forward thrust of America that he began. The dream of conquering the vastness of space—the dream of partnership across the Atlantic—and across the Paciﬁc as well—the dream of a Peace Corps in less developed nations—the dream of education for all of our children—the dream of jobs for all who seek them and need them—the dream of care for our elderly—the dream of an all-out attack on mental illness—and above all, the dream of equal rights for all Americans, whatever their race or color—these and other American dreams have been vitalized by his drive and by his dedication. And now the ideas and the ideals which he so nobly represented must and will be translated into effective action. Under John Kennedy’s leadership, this Nation has demonstrated that it has the courage to seek peace, and it has the fortitude to risk war. We have proved that we are a good and reliable friend to those who seek peace and freedom. We have shown

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that we can also be a formidable foe to those who reject the path of peace and those who seek to impose upon us or our allies the yoke of tyranny. This Nation will keep its commitments from South Viet-Nam to West Berlin. We will be unceasing in the search for peace; resourceful in our pursuit of areas of agreement even with those with whom we differ; and generous and loyal to those who join with us in common cause. In this age when there can be no losers in peace and no victors in war, we must recognize the obligation to match national strength with national restraint. We must be prepared at one and the same time for both the confrontation of power and the limitation of power. We must be ready to defend the national interest and to negotiate the common interest. This is the path that we shall continue to pursue. Those who test our courage will ﬁnd it strong, and those who seek our friendship will ﬁnd it honorable. We will demonstrate anew that the strong can be just in the use of strength; and the just can be strong in the defense of justice. And let all know we will extend no special privilege and impose no persecution. We will carry on the ﬁght against poverty and misery, and disease and ignorance, in other lands and in our own. We will serve all the Nation, not one section or one sector, or one group, but all Americans. These are the United States—a united people with a united purpose. Our American unity does not depend upon unanimity. We have differences; but now, as in the past, we can derive from those differences strength, not weakness, wisdom, not despair. Both as a people and a government, we can unite upon a program, a program which is wise and just, enlightened and constructive. For 32 years Capitol Hill has been my home. I have shared many moments of pride with you, pride in the ability of the Congress of the United States to act, to meet any crisis, to distill from our differences strong programs of national action. An assassin’s bullet has thrust upon me the awesome burden of the Presidency. I am here today to say I need your help; I cannot bear this burden alone. I need the help of all Americans, and all America. This Nation has experienced a profound shock, and in this critical moment, it is our duty, yours and mine, as the Government of the United States, to do away with uncertainty and doubt and delay, and to show that we are capable of decisive action; that from the brutal loss of our leader we will derive not weakness, but strength; that we can and will act and act now. From this chamber of representative government, let all the world know and none misunderstand that I rededicate this Government to the unswerving support of the United Nations, to the honorable and determined execution of our commitments to our allies, to the maintenance of military strength second to none, to the defense of the strength and the stability of the dollar, to the expansion of our foreign trade, to the reinforcement of our programs of mutual assistance and cooperation in Asia and Africa, and to our Alliance for Progress in this hemisphere. On the 20th day of January, in 1961, John F. Kennedy told his countrymen that our national work would not be ﬁnished ‘‘in the ﬁrst thousand days, nor in the life of this administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But,’’ he said, ‘‘let us begin.’’ Today, in this moment of new resolve, I would say to all my fellow Americans, let us continue.

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This is our challenge—not to hesitate, not to pause, not to turn about and linger over this evil moment, but to continue on our course so that we may fulﬁll the destiny that history has set for us. Our most immediate tasks are here on this Hill. First, no memorial oration or eulogy could more eloquently honor President Kennedy’s memory than the earliest possible passage of the civil rights bill for which he fought so long. We have talked long enough in this country about equal rights. We have talked for one hundred years or more. It is time now to write the next chapter, and to write it in the books of law. I urge you again, as I did in 1957 and again in 1960, to enact a civil rights law so that we can move forward to eliminate from this Nation every trace of discrimination and oppression that is based upon race or color. There could be no greater source of strength to this Nation both at home and abroad. And second, no act of ours could more ﬁttingly continue the work of President Kennedy than the early passage of the tax bill for which he fought all this long year. This is a bill designed to increase our national income and Federal revenues, and to provide insurance against recession. That bill, if passed without delay, means more security for those now working, more jobs for those now without them, and more incentive for our economy. In short, this is no time for delay. It is a time for action—strong, forward-looking action on the pending education bills to help bring the light of learning to every home and hamlet in America—strong, forward-looking action on youth employment opportunities; strong, forward-looking action on the pending foreign aid bill, making clear that we are not forfeiting our responsibilities to this hemisphere or to the world, nor erasing Executive ﬂexibility in the conduct of our foreign affairs— and strong, prompt, and forward-looking action on the remaining appropriation bills. In this new spirit of action, the Congress can expect the full cooperation and support of the executive branch. And in particular, I pledge that the expenditures of your Government will be administered with the utmost thrift and frugality. I will insist that the Government get a dollar’s value for a dollar spent. The Government will set an example of prudence and economy. This does not mean that we will not meet our unﬁlled needs or that we will not honor our commitments. We will do both. As one who has long served in both Houses of the Congress, I ﬁrmly believe in the independence and the integrity of the legislative branch. And I promise you that I shall always respect this. It is deep in the marrow of my bones. With equal ﬁrmness, I believe in the capacity and I believe in the ability of the Congress, despite the divisions of opinions which characterize our Nation, to act—to act wisely, to act vigorously, to act speedily when the need arises. The need is here. The need is now. I ask your help. We meet in grief, but let us also meet in renewed dedication and renewed vigor. Let us meet in action, in tolerance, and in mutual understanding. John Kennedy’s death commands what his life conveyed—that America must move forward. The time has come for Americans of all races and creeds and political beliefs to understand and to respect one another. So let us put an end to the teaching and the preaching of hate and evil and violence. Let us turn away from the fanatics of the far left and the far right, from the apostles of bitterness and bigotry, from those deﬁant of law, and those who pour venom into our Nation’s bloodstream.

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I profoundly hope that the tragedy and the torment of these terrible days will bind us together in new fellowship, making us one people in our hour of sorrow. So let us here highly resolve that John Fitzgerald Kennedy did not live—or die—in vain. And on this Thanksgiving eve, as we gather together to ask the Lord’s blessing, and give Him our thanks, let us unite in those familiar and cherished words: America, America, God shed His grace on thee, And crown thy good With brotherhood, From sea to shining sea. Source: Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States: Lyndon B. Johnson, 1963–64. Volume I, entry 11, pp. 8–10. Washington, D. C.: Government Printing Ofﬁce, 1965. Retrieved from the Lyndon Baines Johnson Library, National Archives and Records Administration.

120. Excerpts from 78 Stat. 241, The Civil Rights Act of 1964 The assassination of President John F. Kennedy in November 1963 left most civil rights leaders grief-stricken. Kennedy had been the ﬁrst president since Harry Truman to champion equal rights for black Americans, and the civil rights leaders knew little about Kennedy’s successor, Lyndon B. Johnson. Although Johnson had helped engineer the Civil Rights Act of 1957, that had been a mild measure, and no one knew if the Texan would continue Kennedy’s call for civil rights or move to placate his fellow southerners. But on November 27, 1963, addressing the Congress and the nation for the ﬁrst time as president, Johnson called for passage of the civil rights bill as a monument to the fallen Kennedy. ‘‘Let us continue,’’ he declared, promising that ‘‘the ideas and the ideals which [Kennedy] so nobly represented must and will be translated into effective action.’’ Moreover, where Kennedy had been sound on principle, Lyndon Johnson was the master of parliamentary procedure, and he used his considerable talents as well as the prestige of the presidency in support of the bill. On February 10, 1964, the House of Representatives passed the measure by a lopsided 290-130 vote, but everyone knew that the real battle would be in the Senate, whose rules had allowed southerners in the past to mount ﬁlibusters that had effectively killed nearly all civil rights legislation. But Johnson pulled every string he knew, and had the civil rights leaders mount a massive lobbying campaign, including inundating the Capitol with religious leaders of all faiths and colors. The strategy paid off, and in June the Senate voted to close debate; a few weeks later, it passed the most important piece of civil rights legislation in the nation’s history, and on July 2, 1964, President Johnson signed it into law. Some members of Congress, however, worried whether the law would pass constitutional muster, since in 1883 the Supreme Court had voided the last civil rights measure, declaring such action beyond the scope of congressional power. They need not have worried this time. The U.S. Supreme Court accepted two cases on an accelerated basis and in both of them unanimously upheld the power of Congress under the Fourteenth Amendment to protect the civil rights of black Americans. Title II, of which sections are reprinted here, is the heart of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and deals with public accommodations, providing that African Americans could no longer be excluded from restaurants, hotels and other public facilities. Sec. 201. (a) All persons shall be entitled to the full and equal enjoyment of the goods, services, facilities, privileges, advantages, and accommodations of any place

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of public accommodation, as deﬁned in this section, without discrimination or segregation on the ground of race, color, religion, or national origin. (b) Each of the following establishments which serves the public is a place of public accommodation within the meaning of this title if its operations affect commerce, or if discrimination or segregation by it is supported by State action: (1) any inn, hotel, motel, or other establishment which provides lodging to transient guests, other than an establishment located within a building which contains not more than ﬁve rooms for rent or hire and which is actually occupied by the proprietor of such establishment as his residence; (2) any restaurant, cafeteria, lunchroom, lunch counter, soda fountain, or other facility principally engaged in selling food for consumption on the premises, including, but not limited to, any such facility located on the premises of any retail establishment; or any gasoline station; (3) any motion picture house, theater, concert hall, sports arena, stadium or other place of exhibition or entertainment; and (4) any establishment (A)(i) which is physically located within the premises of any establishment otherwise covered by this subsection, or (ii) within the premises of which is physically located any such covered establishment, and (b) which holds itself out as serving patrons of such covered establishment. (c) The operations of an establishment affect commerce within the meaning of this title if (1) it is one of the establishments described in paragraph (1) of subsection (b); (2) in the case of an establishment described in paragraph (2) of subsection (b), it serves or offers to serve interstate travelers or a substantial portion of the food which it serves, or gasoline or other products which it sells, has moved in commerce; (3) in the case of an establishment described in paragraph (3) of subsection (b), it customarily presents ﬁlms, performances, athletic teams, exhibitions, or other sources of entertainment which move in commerce; and (4) in the case of an establishment described in paragraph (4) of subsection (b), it is physically located within the premises of, or there is physically located within its premises, an establishment the operations of which affect commerce within the meaning of this subsection. For purposes of this section, ‘‘commerce’’ means travel, trade, trafﬁc, commerce, transportation, or communication among the several States, or between the District of Columbia and any State, or between any foreign country or any territory or possession and any State or the District of Columbia, or between points in the same State but through any other State or the District of Columbia or a foreign country. (d) Discrimination or segregation by an establishment is supported by State action within the meaning of this title if such discrimination or segregation (1) is carried on under color of any law, statute, ordinance, or regulation; or (2) is carried on under color of any custom or usage required or enforced by ofﬁcials of the State or political subdivision thereof; or (3) is required by action of the State or political subdivision thereof.… (e) The provisions of this title shall not apply to a private club or other establishment not in fact open to the public, except to the extent that the facilities of such establishment are made available to the customers or patrons of an establishment within the scope of subsection (b). Sec 202. All persons shall be entitled to be free, at any establishment or place, from discrimination or segregation of any kind on the ground of race, color, religion, or national origin, if such discrimination or segregation is or purports to be required

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by any law, statute, ordinance, regulation, rule, or order of a State or any agency or political subdivision thereof. Sec. 203. No person shall (a) withhold, deny, or attempt to withhold or deny, or deprive or attempt to deprive, any person of any right or privilege secured by section 201 or 202, or (b) intimidate, threaten, or coerce, or attempt to intimidate, threaten, or coerce any person with purpose of interfering with any right or privilege secured by section 201 or 202, or (c) punish or attempt to punish any person for exercising or attempting to exercise any right or privilege secured by section 201 or 202. Source: General Records of the U.S. Government, National Archives and Records Administration.

121. ‘‘The Ballot or the Bullet,’’ delivered by Malcolm X in Cleveland, April 3, 1964 Black activist Malcolm X was born Malcolm Little in North Omaha, Nebraska, May 19, 1925. He was also later known as Detroit Red and Al-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz. He died on February 21, 1965, in New York City. Malcom X was a Black Muslim and a national spokesman for the Nation of Islam. He was also founder of the Muslim Mosque, Inc. and the Organization of Afro-American Unity. During his life, Malcolm went from being a drug dealer and burglar to one of the most prominent black nationalist leaders in the United States. He ultimately rose to become a world-renowned activist. Malcolm converted to orthodox Islam in 1964 following a pilgrimage to Mecca in 1964, and he was assassinated less than a year later. What follows is Malcom X’s Bullet or Ballot Speech, April 12, 1964, in Detroit. Michigan. It is often misquoted and is perhaps one of the most misunderstood speeches made in the twentieth century. Mr. Moderator, Brother Lomax, brothers and sisters, friends and enemies: I just can’t believe everyone in here is a friend, and I don’t want to leave anybody out. The question tonight, as I understand it, is ‘‘The Negro Revolt, and Where Do We Go From Here? or What Next?’’ In my little humble way of understanding it, it points toward either the ballot or the bullet. Before we try and explain what is meant by the ballot or the bullet, I would like to clarify something concerning myself. I’m still a Muslim; my religion is still Islam. That’s my personal belief. Just as Adam Clayton Powell is a Christian minister who heads the Abyssinian Baptist Church in New York, but at the same time takes part in the political struggles to try and bring about rights to the black people in this country; and Dr. Martin Luther King is a Christian minister down in Atlanta, Georgia, who heads another organization ﬁghting for the civil rights of black people in this country; and Reverend Galamison, I guess you’ve heard of him, is another Christian minister in New York who has been deeply involved in the school boycotts to eliminate segregated education; well, I myself am a minister, not a Christian minister, but a Muslim minister; and I believe in action on all fronts by whatever means necessary. Although I’m still a Muslim, I’m not here tonight to discuss my religion. I’m not here to try and change your religion. I’m not here to argue or discuss anything that we differ about, because it’s time for us to submerge our differences and realize that it is best for us to ﬁrst see that we have the same problem, a common problem, a problem that will make you catch hell whether you’re a Baptist, or a Methodist, or a

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Muslim, or a nationalist. Whether you’re educated or illiterate, whether you live on the boulevard or in the alley, you’re going to catch hell just like I am. We’re all in the same boat and we all are going to catch the same hell from the same man. He just happens to be a white man. All of us have suffered here, in this country, political oppression at the hands of the white man, economic exploitation at the hands of the white man, and social degradation at the hands of the white man. Now in speaking like this, it doesn’t mean that we’re anti-white, but it does mean we’re anti-exploitation, we’re anti-degradation, we’re anti-oppression. And if the white man doesn’t want us to be anti-him, let him stop oppressing and exploiting and degrading us. Whether we are Christians or Muslims or nationalists or agnostics or atheists, we must ﬁrst learn to forget our differences. If we have differences, let us differ in the closet; when we come out in front, let us not have anything to argue about until we get ﬁnished arguing with the man. If the late President Kennedy could get together with Khrushchev and exchange some wheat, we certainly have more in common with each other than Kennedy and Khrushchev had with each other. If we don’t do something real soon, I think you’ll have to agree that we’re going to be forced either to use the ballot or the bullet. It’s one or the other in 1964. It isn’t that time is running out—time has run out! 1964 threatens to be the most explosive year America has ever witnessed. The most explosive year. Why? It’s also a political year. It’s the year when all of the white politicians will be back in the so-called Negro community jiving you and me for some votes. The year when all of the white political crooks will be right back in your and my community with their false promises, building up our hopes for a letdown, with their trickery and their treachery, with their false promises which they don’t intend to keep. As they nourish these dissatisfactions, it can only lead to one thing, an explosion; and now we have the type of black man on the scene in America today—I’m sorry, Brother Lomax—who just doesn’t intend to turn the other cheek any longer. Don’t let anybody tell you anything about the odds are against you. If they draft you, they send you to Korea and make you face 800 million Chinese. If you can be brave over there, you can be brave right here. These odds aren’t as great as those odds. And if you ﬁght here, you will at least know what you’re ﬁghting for. I’m not a politician, not even a student of politics; in fact, I’m not a student of much of anything. I’m not a Democrat. I’m not a Republican, and I don’t even consider myself an American. If you and I were Americans, there’d be no problem. Those Honkies that just got off the boat, they’re already Americans; Polacks are already Americans; the Italian refugees are already Americans. Everything that came out of Europe, every blue-eyed thing, is already an American. And as long as you and I have been over here, we aren’t Americans yet. Well, I am one who doesn’t believe in deluding myself. I’m not going to sit at your table and watch you eat, with nothing on my plate, and call myself a diner. Sitting at the table doesn’t make you a diner, unless you eat some of what’s on that plate. Being here in America doesn’t make you an American. Being born here in America doesn’t make you an American. Why, if birth made you American, you wouldn’t need any legislation; you wouldn’t need any amendments to the Constitution; you wouldn’t be faced with civil-rights ﬁlibustering in Washington, D.C., right now. They don’t have to pass civil-rights legislation to make a Polack an American.

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No, I’m not an American. I’m one of the 22 million black people who are the victims of Americanism. One of the 22 million black people who are the victims of democracy, nothing but disguised hypocrisy. So, I’m not standing here speaking to you as an American, or a patriot, or a ﬂag-saluter, or a ﬂag-waver—no, not I. I’m speaking as a victim of this American system. And I see America through the eyes of the victim. I don’t see any American dream; I see an American nightmare. These 22 million victims are waking up. Their eyes are coming open. They’re beginning to see what they used to only look at. They’re becoming politically mature. They are realizing that there are new political trends from coast to coast. As they see these new political trends, it’s possible for them to see that every time there’s an election the races are so close that they have to have a recount. They had to recount in Massachusetts to see who was going to be governor, it was so close. It was the same way in Rhode Island, in Minnesota, and in many other parts of the country. And the same with Kennedy and Nixon when they ran for president. It was so close they had to count all over again. Well, what does this mean? It means that when white people are evenly divided, and black people have a bloc of votes of their own, it is left up to them to determine who’s going to sit in the White House and who’s going to be in the dog house. It was the black man’s vote that put the present administration in Washington, D.C. Your vote, your dumb vote, your ignorant vote, your wasted vote put in an administration in Washington, D.C., that has seen ﬁt to pass every kind of legislation imaginable, saving you until last, then ﬁlibustering on top of that. And your and my leaders have the audacity to run around clapping their hands and talk about how much progress we’re making. And what a good president we have. If he wasn’t good in Texas, he sure can’t be good in Washington, D.C. Because Texas is a lynch state. It is in the same breath as Mississippi, no different; only they lynch you in Texas with a Texas accent and lynch you in Mississippi with a Mississippi accent. And these Negro leaders have the audacity to go and have some coffee in the White House with a Texan, a Southern cracker—that’s all he is—and then come out and tell you and me that he’s going to be better for us because, since he’s from the South, he knows how to deal with the Southerners. What kind of logic is that? Let Eastland be president, he’s from the South too. He should be better able to deal with them than Johnson. In this present administration they have in the House of Representatives 257 Democrats to only 177 Republicans. They control two-thirds of the House vote. Why can’t they pass something that will help you and me? In the Senate, there are 67 senators who are of the Democratic Party. Only 33 of them are Republicans. Why, the Democrats have got the government sewed up, and you’re the one who sewed it up for them. And what have they given you for it? Four years in ofﬁce, and just now getting around to some civil-rights legislation. Just now, after everything else is gone, out of the way, they’re going to sit down now and play with you all summer long—the same old giant con game that they call ﬁlibuster. All those are in cahoots together. Don’t you ever think they’re not in cahoots together, for the man that is heading the civil-rights ﬁlibuster is a man from Georgia named Richard Russell. When Johnson became president, the ﬁrst man he asked for when he got back to Washington, D.C., was ‘‘Dicky’’—that’s how tight they are. That’s his boy, that’s his pal, that’s his buddy. But they’re playing that old con game. One of them makes believe he’s for you, and he’s got it ﬁxed where the other one is so tight against you, he never has to keep his promise.

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So it’s time in 1964 to wake up. And when you see them coming up with that kind of conspiracy, let them know your eyes are open. And let them know you— something else that’s wide open too. It’s got to be the ballot or the bullet. The ballot or the bullet. If you’re afraid to use an expression like that, you should get on out of the country; you should get back in the cotton patch; you should get back in the alley. They get all the Negro vote, and after they get it, the Negro gets nothing in return. All they did when they got to Washington was give a few big Negroes big jobs. Those big Negroes didn’t need big jobs, they already had jobs. That’s camouﬂage, that’s trickery, that’s treachery, window-dressing. I’m not trying to knock out the Democrats for the Republicans. We’ll get to them in a minute. But it is true; you put the Democrats ﬁrst and the Democrats put you last. Look at it the way it is. What alibis do they use, since they control Congress and the Senate? What alibi do they use when you and I ask, ‘‘Well, when are you going to keep your promise?’’ They blame the Dixiecrats. What is a Dixiecrat? A Democrat. A Dixiecrat is nothing but a Democrat in disguise. The titular head of the Democrats is also the head of the Dixiecrats, because the Dixiecrats are a part of the Democratic Party. The Democrats have never kicked the Dixiecrats out of the party. The Dixiecrats bolted themselves once, but the Democrats didn’t put them out. Imagine, these lowdown Southern segregationists put the Northern Democrats down. But the Northern Democrats have never put the Dixiecrats down. No, look at that thing the way it is. They have got a con game going on, a political con game, and you and I are in the middle. It’s time for you and me to wake up and start looking at it like it is, and trying to understand it like it is; and then we can deal with it like it is. The Dixiecrats in Washington, D.C., control the key committees that run the government. The only reason the Dixiecrats control these committees is because they have seniority. The only reason they have seniority is because they come from states where Negroes can’t vote. This is not even a government that’s based on democracy. lt. is not a government that is made up of representatives of the people. Half of the people in the South can’t even vote. Eastland is not even supposed to be in Washington. Half of the senators and congressmen who occupy these key positions in Washington, D.C., are there illegally, are there unconstitutionally. I was in Washington, D.C., a week ago Thursday, when they were debating whether or not they should let the bill come onto the ﬂoor. And in the back of the room where the Senate meets, there’s a huge map of the United States, and on that map it shows the location of Negroes throughout the country. And it shows that the Southern section of the country, the states that are most heavily concentrated with Negroes, are the ones that have senators and congressmen standing up ﬁlibustering and doing all other kinds of trickery to keep the Negro from being able to vote. This is pitiful. But it’s not pitiful for us any longer; it’s actually pitiful for the white man, because soon now, as the Negro awakens a little more and sees the vise that he’s in, sees the bag that he’s in, sees the real game that he’s in, then the Negro’s going to develop a new tactic. These senators and congressmen actually violate the constitutional amendments that guarantee the people of that particular state or county the right to vote. And the Constitution itself has within it the machinery to expel any representative from a state where the voting rights of the people are violated. You don’t even need new legislation. Any person in Congress right now, who is there from a state or a district

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where the voting rights of the people are violated, that particular person should be expelled from Congress. And when you expel him, you’ve removed one of the obstacles in the path of any real meaningful legislation in this country. In fact, when you expel them, you don’t need new legislation, because they will be replaced by black representatives from counties and districts where the black man is in the majority, not in the minority. If the black man in these Southern states had his full voting rights, the key Dixiecrats in Washington, D.C., which means the key Democrats in Washington, D.C., would lose their seats. The Democratic Party itself would lose its power. It would cease to be powerful as a party. When you see the amount of power that would be lost by the Democratic Party if it were to lose the Dixiecrat wing, or branch, or element, you can see where it’s against the interests of the Democrats to give voting rights to Negroes in states where the Democrats have been in complete power and authority ever since the Civil War. You just can’t belong to that Party without analyzing it. I say again, I’m not anti-Democrat, I’m not anti-Republican, I’m not anti-anything. I’m just questioning their sincerity, and some of the strategy that they’ve been using on our people by promising them promises that they don’t intend to keep. When you keep the Democrats in power, you’re keeping the Dixiecrats in power. I doubt that my good Brother Lomax will deny that. A vote for a Democrat is a vote for a Dixiecrat. That’s why, in 1964, it’s time now for you and me to become more politically mature and realize what the ballot is for; what we’re supposed to get when we cast a ballot; and that if we don’t cast a ballot, it’s going to end up in a situation where we’re going to have to cast a bullet. It’s either a ballot or a bullet. In the North, they do it a different way. They have a system that’s known as gerrymandering, whatever that means. It means when Negroes become too heavily concentrated in a certain area, and begin to gain too much political power, the white man comes along and changes the district lines. You may say, ‘‘Why do you keep saying white man?’’ Because it’s the white man who does it. I haven’t ever seen any Negro changing any lines. They don’t let him get near the line. It’s the white man who does this. And usually, it’s the white man who grins at you the most, and pats you on the back, and is supposed to be your friend. He may be friendly, but he’s not your friend. So, what I’m trying to impress upon you, in essence, is this: You and I in America are faced not with a segregationist conspiracy, we’re faced with a government conspiracy. Everyone who’s ﬁlibustering is a senator—that’s the government. Everyone who’s ﬁnagling in Washington, D.C., is a congressman—that’s the government. You don’t have anybody putting blocks in your path but people who are a part of the government. The same government that you go abroad to ﬁght for and die for is the government that is in a conspiracy to deprive you of your voting rights, deprive you of your economic opportunities, deprive you of decent housing, deprive you of decent education. You don’t need to go to the employer alone, it is the government itself, the government of America, that is responsible for the oppression and exploitation and degradation of black people in this country. And you should drop it in their lap. This government has failed the Negro. This so-called democracy has failed the Negro. And all these white liberals have deﬁnitely failed the Negro. So, where do we go from here? First, we need some friends. We need some new allies. The entire civil-rights struggle needs a new interpretation, a broader

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interpretation. We need to look at this civil-rights thing from another angle—from the inside as well as from the outside. To those of us whose philosophy is black nationalism, the only way you can get involved in the civil-rights struggle is give it a new interpretation. That old interpretation excluded us. It kept us out. So, we’re giving a new interpretation to the civil-rights struggle, an interpretation that will enable us to come into it, take part in it. And these handkerchief-heads who have been dillydallying and pussy footing and compromising—we don’t intend to let them pussyfoot and dillydally and compromise any longer. How can you thank a man for giving you what’s already yours? How then can you thank him for giving you only part of what’s already yours? You haven’t even made progress, if what’s being given to you, you should have had already. That’s not progress. And I love my Brother Lomax, the way he pointed out we’re right back where we were in 1954. We’re not even as far up as we were in 1954. We’re behind where we were in 1954. There’s more segregation now than there was in 1954. There’s more racial animosity, more racial hatred, more racial violence today in 1964, than there was in 1954. Where is the progress? And now you’re facing a situation where the young Negro’s coming up. They don’t want to hear that ‘‘turn the-other-cheek’’ stuff, no. In Jacksonville, those were teenagers, they were throwing Molotov cocktails. Negroes have never done that before. But it shows you there’s a new deal coming in. There’s new thinking coming in. There’s new strategy coming in. It’ll be Molotov cocktails this month, hand grenades next month, and something else next month. It’ll be ballots, or it’ll be bullets. It’ll be liberty, or it will be death. The only difference about this kind of death—it’ll be reciprocal. You know what is meant by ‘‘reciprocal’’? That’s one of Brother Lomax’s words. I stole it from him. I don’t usually deal with those big words because I don’t usually deal with big people. I deal with small people. I ﬁnd you can get a whole lot of small people and whip hell out of a whole lot of big people. They haven’t got anything to lose, and they’ve got every thing to gain. And they’ll let you know in a minute: ‘‘It takes two to tango; when I go, you go.’’ The black nationalists, those whose philosophy is black nationalism, in bringing about this new interpretation of the entire meaning of civil rights, look upon it as meaning, as Brother Lomax has pointed out, equality of opportunity. Well, we’re justiﬁed in seeking civil rights, if it means equality of opportunity, because all we’re doing there is trying to collect for our investment. Our mothers and fathers invested sweat and blood. Three hundred and ten years we worked in this country without a dime in return—I mean without a dime in return. You let the white man walk around here talking about how rich this country is, but you never stop to think how it got rich so quick. It got rich because you made it rich. You take the people who are in this audience right now. They’re poor. We’re all poor as individuals. Our weekly salary individually amounts to hardly anything. But if you take the salary of everyone in here collectively, it’ll ﬁll up a whole lot of baskets. It’s a lot of wealth. If you can collect the wages of just these people right here for a year, you’ll be rich—richer than rich. When you look at it like that, think how rich Uncle Sam had to become, not with this handful, but millions of black people. Your and my mother and father, who didn’t work an eight-hour shift, but worked from ‘‘can’t see’’ in the morning until ‘‘can’t see’’ at night, and worked for nothing, making the white man rich, making Uncle Sam rich. This is our investment. This is our contribution, our blood.

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Not only did we give of our free labor, we gave of our blood. Every time he had a call to arms, we were the ﬁrst ones in uniform. We died on every battleﬁeld the white man had. We have made a greater sacriﬁce than anybody who’s standing up in America today. We have made a greater contribution and have collected less. Civil rights, for those of us whose philosophy is black nationalism, means: ‘‘Give it to us now. Don’t wait for next year. Give it to us yesterday, and that’s not fast enough.’’ I might stop right here to point out one thing. Whenever you’re going after something that belongs to you, anyone who’s depriving you of the right to have it is a criminal. Understand that. Whenever you are going after something that is yours, you are within your legal rights to lay claim to it. And anyone who puts forth any effort to deprive you of that which is yours, is breaking the law, is a criminal. And this was pointed out by the Supreme Court decision. It outlawed segregation. Which means segregation is against the law. Which means a segregationist is breaking the law. A segregationist is a criminal. You can’t label him as anything other than that. And when you demonstrate against segregation, the law is on your side. The Supreme Court is on your side. Now, who is it that opposes you in carrying out the law? The police department itself. With police dogs and clubs. Whenever you demonstrate against segregation, whether it is segregated education, segregated housing, or anything else, the law is on your side, and anyone who stands in the way is not the law any longer. They are breaking the law; they are not representatives of the law. Any time you demonstrate against segregation and a man has the audacity to put a police dog on you, kill that dog, kill him, I’m telling you, kill that dog. I say it, if they put me in jail tomorrow, kill that dog. Then you’ll put a stop to it. Now, if these white people in here don’t want to see that kind of action, get down and tell the mayor to tell the police department to pull the dogs in. That’s all you have to do. If you don’t do it, someone else will. If you don’t take this kind of stand, your little children will grow up and look at you and think ‘‘shame.’’ If you don’t take an uncompromising stand, I don’t mean go out and get violent; but at the same time you should never be nonviolent unless you run into some nonviolence. I’m nonviolent with those who are nonviolent with me. But when you drop that violence on me, then you’ve made me go insane, and I’m not responsible for what I do. And that’s the way every Negro should get. Any time you know you’re within the law, within your legal rights, within your moral rights, in accord with justice, then die for what you believe in. But don’t die alone. Let your dying be reciprocal. This is what is meant by equality. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. When we begin to get in this area, we need new friends, we need new allies. We need to expand the civil-rights struggle to a higher level—to the level of human rights. Whenever you are in a civil-rights struggle, whether you know it or not, you are conﬁning yourself to the jurisdiction of Uncle Sam. No one from the outside world can speak out in your behalf as long as your struggle is a civil-rights struggle. Civil rights comes within the domestic affairs of this country. All of our African brothers and our Asian brothers and our Latin-American brothers cannot open their mouths and interfere in the domestic affairs of the United States. And as long as it’s civil rights, this comes under the jurisdiction of Uncle Sam. But the United Nations has what’s known as the charter of human rights; it has a committee that deals in human rights. You may wonder why all of the atrocities

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that have been committed in Africa and in Hungary and in Asia, and in Latin America are brought before the UN, and the Negro problem is never brought before the UN. This is part of the conspiracy. This old, tricky blue eyed liberal who is supposed to be your and my friend, supposed to be in our corner, supposed to be subsidizing our struggle, and supposed to be acting in the capacity of an adviser, never tells you anything about human rights. They keep you wrapped up in civil rights. And you spend so much time barking up the civil-rights tree, you don’t even know there’s a human-rights tree on the same ﬂoor. When you expand the civil-rights struggle to the level of human rights, you can then take the case of the black man in this country before the nations in the UN. You can take it before the General Assembly. You can take Uncle Sam before a world court. But the only level you can do it on is the level of human rights. Civil rights keeps you under his restrictions, under his jurisdiction. Civil rights keeps you in his pocket. Civil rights means you’re asking Uncle Sam to treat you right. Human rights are something you were born with. Human rights are your God-given rights. Human rights are the rights that are recognized by all nations of this earth. And any time any one violates your human rights, you can take them to the world court. Uncle Sam’s hands are dripping with blood, dripping with the blood of the black man in this country. He’s the earth’s number-one hypocrite. He has the audacity— yes, he has—imagine him posing as the leader of the free world. The free world! And you over here singing ‘‘We Shall Overcome.’’ Expand the civil-rights struggle to the level of human rights. Take it into the United Nations, where our African brothers can throw their weight on our side, where our Asian brothers can throw their weight on our side, where our Latin-American brothers can throw their weight on our side, and where 800 million Chinamen are sitting there waiting to throw their weight on our side. Let the world know how bloody his hands are. Let the world know the hypocrisy that’s practiced over here. Let it be the ballot or the bullet. Let him know that it must be the ballot or the bullet. When you take your case to Washington, D.C., you’re taking it to the criminal who’s responsible; it’s like running from the wolf to the fox. They’re all in cahoots together. They all work political chicanery and make you look like a chump before the eyes of the world. Here you are walking around in America, getting ready to be drafted and sent abroad, like a tin soldier, and when you get over there, people ask you what are you ﬁghting for, and you have to stick your tongue in your cheek. No, take Uncle Sam to court, take him before the world. By ballot I only mean freedom. Don’t you know—I disagree with Lomax on this issue—that the ballot is more important than the dollar? Can I prove it? Yes. Look in the UN. There are poor nations in the UN; yet those poor nations can get together with their voting power and keep the rich nations from making a move. They have one nation—one vote, everyone has an equal vote. And when those brothers from Asia, and Africa and the darker parts of this earth get together, their voting power is sufﬁcient to hold Sam in check. Or Russia in check. Or some other section of the earth in check. So, the ballot is most important. Right now, in this country, if you and I, 22 million African-Americans—that’s what we are—Africans who are in America. You’re nothing but Africans. Nothing but Africans. In fact, you’d get farther calling yourself African instead of Negro. Africans don’t catch hell. You’re the only one catching hell. They don’t have to

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pass civil-rights bills for Africans. An African can go anywhere he wants right now. All you’ve got to do is tie your head up. That’s right, go anywhere you want. Just stop being a Negro. Change your name to Hoogagagooba. That’ll show you how silly the white man is. You’re dealing with a silly man. A friend of mine who’s very dark put a turban on his head and went into a restaurant in Atlanta before they called themselves desegregated. He went into a white restaurant, he sat down, they served him, and he said, ‘‘What would happen if a Negro came in here? And there he’s sitting, black as night, but because he had his head wrapped up the waitress looked back at him and says, ‘‘Why, there wouldn’t no nigger dare come in here.’’ So, you’re dealing with a man whose bias and prejudice are making him lose his mind, his intelligence, every day. He’s frightened. He looks around and sees what’s taking place on this earth, and he sees that the pendulum of time is swinging in your direction. The dark people are waking up. They’re losing their fear of the white man. No place where he’s ﬁghting right now is he winning. Everywhere he’s ﬁghting, he’s ﬁghting someone your and my complexion. And they’re beating him. He can’t win any more. He’s won his last battle. He failed to win the Korean War. He couldn’t win it. He had to sign a truce. That’s a loss. Any time Uncle Sam, with all his machinery for warfare, is held to a draw by some rice eaters, he’s lost the battle. He had to sign a truce. America’s not supposed to sign a truce. She’s supposed to be bad. But she’s not bad any more. She’s bad as long as she can use her hydrogen bomb, but she can’t use hers for fear Russia might use hers. Russia can’t use hers, for fear that Sam might use his. So, both of them are weapon-less. They can’t use the weapon because each’s weapon nulliﬁes the other’s. So the only place where action can take place is on the ground. And the white man can’t win another war ﬁghting on the ground. Those days are over. The black man knows it, the brown man knows it, the red man knows it, and the yellow man knows it. So they engage him in guerrilla warfare. That’s not his style. You’ve got to have heart to be a guerrilla warrior, and he hasn’t got any heart. I’m telling you now. I just want to give you a little brieﬁng on guerrilla warfare because, before you know it, before you know it. It takes heart to be a guerrilla warrior because you’re on your own. In conventional warfare you have tanks and a whole lot of other people with you to back you up—planes over your head and all that kind of stuff. But a guerrilla is on his own. All you have is a riﬂe, some sneakers and a bowl of rice, and that’s all you need—and a lot of heart. The Japanese on some of those islands in the Paciﬁc, when the American soldiers landed, one Japanese sometimes could hold the whole army off. He’d just wait until the sun went down, and when the sun went down they were all equal. He would take his little blade and slip from bush to bush, and from American to American. The white soldiers couldn’t cope with that. Whenever you see a white soldier that fought in the Paciﬁc, he has the shakes, he has a nervous condition, because they scared him to death. The same thing happened to the French up in French Indochina. People who just a few years previously were rice farmers got together and ran the heavily-mechanized French army out of Indochina. You don’t need it—modern warfare today won’t work. This is the day of the guerrilla. They did the same thing in Algeria. Algerians, who were nothing but Bedouins … sneaked off to the hills, and de Gaulle and all of his highfalutin’ war machinery couldn’t defeat those guerrillas. Nowhere on this earth does the white man win in a guerrilla warfare. It’s not his speed. Just as guerrilla warfare is prevailing in Asia and in parts of Africa and in parts of Latin

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America, you’ve got to be mighty naive, or you’ve got to play the black man cheap, if you don’t think some day he’s going to wake up and ﬁnd that it’s got to be the ballot or the bullet. I would like to say, in closing, a few things concerning the Muslim Mosque, Inc., which we established recently in New York City. It’s true we’re Muslims and our religion is Islam, but we don’t mix our religion with our politics and our economics and our social and civil activities—not any more. We keep our religion in our mosque. After our religious services are over, then as Muslims we become involved in political action, economic action and social and civic action. We become involved with anybody, any where, any time and in any manner that’s designed to eliminate the evils, the political, economic and social evils that are afﬂicting the people of our community. The political philosophy of black nationalism means that the black man should control the politics and the politicians in his own community no more. The black man in the black community has to be re-educated into the science of politics so he will know what politics is supposed to bring him in return. Don’t be throwing out any ballots. A ballot is like a bullet. You don’t throw your ballots until you see a target, and if that target is not within your reach, keep your ballot in your pocket. The political philosophy of black nationalism is being taught in the Christian church. It’s being taught in the NAACP. It’s being taught in CORE meetings. It’s being taught in SNCC Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee meetings. It’s being taught in Muslim meetings. It’s being taught where nothing but atheists and agnostics come together. It’s being taught everywhere. Black people are fed up with the dillydallying, pussyfooting, compromising approach that we’ve been using toward getting our freedom. We want freedom now, but we’re not going to get it saying ‘‘We Shall Overcome.’’ We’ve got to ﬁght until we overcome. The economic philosophy of black nationalism is pure and simple. It only means that we should control the economy of our community. Why should white people be running all the stores in our community? Why should white people be running the banks of our community? Why should the economy of our community be in the hands of the white man? Why? If a black man can’t move his store into a white community, you tell me why a white man should move his store into a black community. The philosophy of black nationalism involves a re-education program in the black community in regards to economics. Our people have to be made to see that any time you take your dollar out of your community and spend it in a community where you don’t live, the community where you live will get poorer and poorer, and the community where you spend your money will get richer and richer. Then you wonder why where you live is always a ghetto or a slum area. And where you and I are concerned, not only do we lose it when we spend it out of the community, but the white man has got all our stores in the community tied up; so that though we spend it in the community, at sundown the man who runs the store takes it over across town somewhere. He’s got us in a vise. So the economic philosophy of black nationalism means in every church, in every civic organization, in every fraternal order, it’s time now for our people to be come conscious of the importance of controlling the economy of our community. If we own the stores, if we operate the businesses, if we try and establish some industry in our own community, then we’re developing to the position where we are creating employment for our own kind. Once you gain control of the economy of your own

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community, then you don’t have to picket and boycott and beg some cracker downtown for a job in his business. The social philosophy of black nationalism only means that we have to get together and remove the evils, the vices, alcoholism, drug addiction, and other evils that are destroying the moral ﬁber of our community. We ourselves have to lift the level of our community, the standard of our community to a higher level, make our own society beautiful so that we will be satisﬁed in our own social circles and won’t be running around here trying to knock our way into a social circle where we’re not wanted. So I say, in spreading a gospel such as black nationalism, it is not designed to make the black man re-evaluate the white man—you know him already—but to make the black man re-evaluate himself. Don’t change the white man’s mind—you can’t change his mind, and that whole thing about appealing to the moral conscience of America—America’s conscience is bankrupt. She lost all conscience a long time ago. Uncle Sam has no conscience. They don’t know what morals are. They don’t try and eliminate an evil because it’s evil, or because it’s illegal, or because it’s immoral; they eliminate it only when it threatens their existence. So you’re wasting your time appealing to the moral conscience of a bankrupt man like Uncle Sam. If he had a conscience, he’d straighten this thing out with no more pressure being put upon him. So it is not necessary to change the white man’s mind. We have to change our own mind. You can’t change his mind about us. We’ve got to change our own minds about each other. We have to see each other with new eyes. We have to see each other as brothers and sisters. We have to come together with warmth so we can develop unity and harmony that’s necessary to get this problem solved ourselves. How can we do this? How can we avoid jealousy? How can we avoid the suspicion and the divisions that exist in the community? I’ll tell you how. I have watched how Billy Graham comes into a city, spreading what he calls the gospel of Christ, which is only white nationalism. That’s what he is. Billy Graham is a white nationalist; I’m a black nationalist. But since it’s the natural tendency for leaders to be jealous and look upon a powerful ﬁgure like Graham with suspicion and envy, how is it possible for him to come into a city and get all the cooperation of the church leaders? Don’t think because they’re church leaders that they don’t have weaknesses that make them envious and jealous—no, everybody’s got it. It’s not an accident that when they want to choose a cardinal, as Pope I over there in Rome, they get in a closet so you can’t hear them cussing and ﬁghting and carrying on. Billy Graham comes in preaching the gospel of Christ. He evangelizes the gospel. He stirs everybody up, but he never tries to start a church. If he came in trying to start a church, all the churches would be against him. So, he just comes in talking about Christ and tells everybody who gets Christ to go to any church where Christ is; and in this way the church cooperates with him. So we’re going to take a page from his book. Our gospel is black nationalism. We’re not trying to threaten the existence of any organization, but we’re spreading the gospel of black nationalism. Anywhere there’s a church that is also preaching and practicing the gospel of black nationalism, join that church. If the NAACP is preaching and practicing the gospel of black nationalism, join the NAACP. If CORE is spreading and practicing the gospel of black nationalism, join CORE. Join any organization that has a gospel that’s for the uplift of the black man. And when you get into it and see them pussyfooting or

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compromising, pull out of it because that’s not black nationalism. We’ll ﬁnd another one. And in this manner, the organizations will increase in number and in quantity and in quality, and by August, it is then our intention to have a black nationalist convention which will consist of delegates from all over the country who are interested in the political, economic and social philosophy of black nationalism. After these delegates convene, we will hold a seminar; we will hold discussions; we will listen to everyone. We want to hear new ideas and new solutions and new answers. And at that time, if we see ﬁt then to form a black nationalist party, we’ll form a black nationalist party. If it’s necessary to form a black nationalist army, we’ll form a black nationalist army. It’ll be the ballot or the bullet. It’ll be liberty or it’ll be death. It’s time for you and me to stop sitting in this country, letting some cracker senators, Northern crackers and Southern crackers, sit there in Washington, D.C., and come to a conclusion in their mind that you and I are supposed to have civil rights. There’s no white man going to tell me anything about my rights. Brothers and sisters, always remember, if it doesn’t take senators and congressmen and presidential proclamations to give freedom to the white man, it is not necessary for legislation or proclamation or Supreme Court decisions to give freedom to the black man. You let that white man know, if this is a country of freedom, let it be a country of freedom; and if it’s not a country of freedom, change it. We will work with anybody, anywhere, at any time, who is genuinely interested in tackling the problem head-on, nonviolently as long as the enemy is nonviolent, but violent when the enemy gets violent. We’ll work with you on the voter-registration drive, we’ll work with you on rent strikes, we’ll work with you on school boycotts; I don’t believe in any kind of integration; I’m not even worried about it, because I know you’re not going to get it anyway; you’re not going to get it because you’re afraid to die; you’ve got to be ready to die if you try and force yourself on the white man, because he’ll get just as violent as those crackers in Mississippi, right here in Cleveland. But we will still work with you on the school boycotts because we’re against a segregated school system. A segregated school system produces children who, when they graduate, graduate with crippled minds. But this does not mean that a school is segregated because it’s all black. A segregated school means a school that is controlled by people who have no real interest in it whatsoever. Let me explain what I mean. A segregated district or community is a community in which people live, but outsiders control the politics and the economy of that community. They never refer to the white section as a segregated community. It’s the all-Negro section that’s a segregated community. Why? The white man controls his own school, his own bank, his own economy, his own politics, his own everything, his own community; but he also controls yours. When you’re under someone else’s control, you’re segregated. They’ll always give you the lowest or the worst that there is to offer, but it doesn’t mean you’re segregated just because you have your own. You’ve got to control your own. Just like the white man has control of his, you need to control yours. You know the best way to get rid of segregation? The white man is more afraid of separation than he is of integration. Segregation means that he puts you away from him, but not far enough for you to be out of his jurisdiction; separation means you’re gone. And the white man will integrate faster than he’ll let you separate. So we will work with you against the segregated school system because it’s criminal, because it

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is absolutely destructive, in every way imaginable, to the minds of the children who have to be exposed to that type of crippling education. Last but not least, I must say this concerning the great controversy over riﬂes and shotguns. The only thing that I’ve ever said is that in areas where the government has proven itself either unwilling or unable to defend the lives and the property of Negroes, it’s time for Negroes to defend themselves. Article number two of the constitutional amendments provides you and me the right to own a riﬂe or a shotgun. It is constitutionally legal to own a shotgun or a riﬂe. This doesn’t mean you’re going to get a riﬂe and form battalions and go out looking for white folks, although you’d be within your rights—I mean, you’d be justiﬁed; but that would be illegal and we don’t do anything illegal. If the white man doesn’t want the black man buying riﬂes and shotguns, then let the government do its job. That’s all. And don’t let the white man come to you and ask you what you think about what Malcolm says—why, you old Uncle Tom. He would never ask you if he thought you were going to say, ‘‘Amen!’’ No, he is making a Tom out of you. So, this doesn’t mean forming riﬂe clubs and going out looking for people, but it is time, in 1964, if you are a man, to let that man know. If he’s not going to do his job in running the government and providing you and me with the protection that our taxes are supposed to be for, since he spends all those billions for his defense budget, he certainly can’t begrudge you and me spending $12 or $15 for a single-shot, or double-action. I hope you understand. Don’t go out shooting people, but any time—brothers and sisters, and especially the men in this audience; some of you wearing Congressional Medals of Honor, with shoulders this wide, chests this big, muscles that big—any time you and I sit around and read where they bomb a church and murder in cold blood, not some grownups, but four little girls while they were praying to the same God the white man taught them to pray to, and you and I see the government go down and can’t ﬁnd who did it. Why, this man—he can ﬁnd Eichmann hiding down in Argentina somewhere. Let two or three American soldiers, who are minding somebody else’s business way over in South Vietnam, get killed, and he’ll send battleships, sticking his nose in their business. He wanted to send troops down to Cuba and make them have what he calls free elections—this old cracker who doesn’t have free elections in his own country. No, if you never see me another time in your life, if I die in the morning, I’ll die saying one thing: the ballot or the bullet, the ballot or the bullet. If a Negro in 1964 has to sit around and wait for some cracker senator to ﬁlibuster when it comes to the rights of black people, why, you and I should hang our heads in shame. You talk about a march on Washington in 1963, you haven’t seen anything. There’s some more going down in ’64. And this time they’re not going like they went last year. They’re not going singing, ‘‘We Shall Overcome.’’ They’re not going with white friends. They’re not going with placards already painted for them. They’re not going with round-trip tickets. They’re going with one way tickets. And if they don’t want that non-nonviolent army going down there, tell them to bring the ﬁlibuster to a halt.’’ The black nationalists aren’t going to wait. Lyndon B. Johnson is the head of the Democratic Party. If he’s for civil rights, let him go into the Senate next week and declare himself. Let him go in there right now and declare himself. Let him go in there and denounce the Southern branch of his party. Let him go in there right now

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and take a moral stand—right now, not later. Tell him, don’t wait until election time. If he waits too long, brothers and sisters, he will be responsible for letting a condition develop in this country which will create a climate that will bring seeds up out of the ground with vegetation on the end of them looking like something these people never dreamed of. In 1964, it’s the ballot or the bullet. Thank you. Source: From Malcolm X Speaks: Selected speeches and statements by Malcolm X, edited by BreitC 1965, 1989 by Betty Shabazz and Pathﬁnder Press. Reprinted by man, 1989. Copyright permission.

122. President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Radio and Television Remarks Upon Signing the Civil Rights Bill, July 2, 1964 The 1964 Civil Rights Act is historically signiﬁcant because it was signed into law after many turbulent years in which blacks, whites, religious leaders, women and many other groups had waged many serious battles to win equal rights for every American. President John F. Kennedy had promised to sign the act, but his untimely death meant that sitting President Lyndon Johnson signed it into law instead. The act marked a legal end to decades of violence, segregation, and discrimination that had torn the nation apart. The hope, at the time, was that this law would make a real beginning of equal rights for all Americans. It was a dream many hoped had come true, including President Johnson. My fellow Americans: I am about to sign into law the Civil Rights Act of 1964. I want to take this occasion to talk to you about what that law means to every American. One hundred and eighty-eight years ago this week a small band of valiant men began a long struggle for freedom. They pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor not only to found a nation, but to forge an ideal of freedom—not only for political independence, but for personal liberty—not only to eliminate foreign rule, but to establish the rule of justice in the affairs of men. That struggle was a turning point in our history. Today in far corners of distant continents, the ideals of those American patriots still shape the struggles of men who hunger for freedom. This is a proud triumph. Yet those who founded our country knew that freedom would be secure only if each generation fought to renew and enlarge its meaning. From the minutemen at Concord to the soldiers in Viet-Nam, each generation has been equal to that trust. Americans of every race and color have died in battle to protect our freedom. Americans of every race and color have worked to build a nation of widening opportunities. Now our generation of Americans has been called on to continue the unending search for justice within our own borders. We believe that all men are created equal. Yet many are denied equal treatment. We believe that all men have certain unalienable rights. Yet many Americans do not enjoy those rights. We believe that all men are entitled to the blessings of liberty. Yet millions are being deprived of those blessings—not because of their own failures, but because of the color of their skin.

122. President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Radio and Television Remarks Upon Signing the Civil Rights Bill, July 2, 1964

The reasons are deeply imbedded in history and tradition and the nature of man. We can understand—without rancor or hatred—how this all happened. But it cannot continue. Our Constitution, the foundation of our Republic, forbids it. The principles of our freedom forbid it. Morality forbids it. And the law I will sign tonight forbids it. That law is the product of months of the most careful debate and discussion. It was proposed more than one year ago by our late and beloved President John F. Kennedy. It received the bipartisan support of more than two-thirds of the Members of both the House and the Senate. An overwhelming majority of Republicans as well as Democrats voted for it. It has received the thoughtful support of tens of thousands of civic and religious leaders in all parts of this Nation. And it is supported by the great majority of the American people. The purpose of the law is simple. It does not restrict the freedom of any American, so long as he respects the rights of others. It does not give special treatment to any citizen. It does say the only limit to a man’s hope for happiness, and for the future of his children, shall be his own ability. It does say that there are those who are equal before God shall now also be equal in the polling booths, in the classrooms, in the factories, and in hotels, restaurants, movie theaters, and other places that provide service to the public. I am taking steps to implement the law under my constitutional obligation to ‘‘take care that the laws are faithfully executed.’’ First, I will send to the Senate my nomination of LeRoy Collins to be Director of the Community Relations Service. Governor Collins will bring the experience of a long career of distinguished public service to the task of helping communities solve problems of human relations through reason and commonsense. Second, I shall appoint an advisory committee of distinguished Americans to assist Governor Collins in his assignment. Third, I am sending Congress a request for supplemental appropriations to pay for necessary costs of implementing the law, and asking for immediate action. Fourth, already today in a meeting of my Cabinet this afternoon I directed the agencies of this Government to fully discharge the new responsibilities imposed upon them by the law and to do it without delay, and to keep me personally informed of their progress. Fifth, I am asking appropriate ofﬁcials to meet with representative groups to promote greater understanding of the law and to achieve a spirit of compliance. We must not approach the observance and enforcement of this law in a vengeful spirit. Its purpose is not to punish. Its purpose is not to divide, but to end divisions—divisions which have all lasted too long. Its purpose is national, not regional. Its purpose is to promote a more abiding commitment to freedom, a more constant pursuit of justice, and a deeper respect for human dignity. We will achieve these goals because most Americans are law-abiding citizens who want to do what is right. This is why the Civil Rights Act relies ﬁrst on voluntary compliance, then on the efforts of local communities and States to secure the rights of citizens. It provides for the national authority to step in only when others cannot or will not do the job.

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This Civil Rights Act is a challenge to all of us to go to work in our communities and our States, in our homes and in our hearts, to eliminate the last vestiges of injustice in our beloved country. So tonight I urge every public ofﬁcial, every religious leader, every business and professional man, every workingman, every housewife—I urge every American—to join in this effort to bring justice and hope to all our people—and to bring peace to our land. My fellow citizens, we have come now to a time of testing. We must not fail. Let us close the springs of racial poison. Let us pray for wise and understanding hearts. Let us lay aside irrelevant differences and make our Nation whole. Let us hasten that day when our unmeasured strength and our unbounded spirit will be free to do the great works ordained for this Nation by the just and wise God who is the Father of us all. Source: Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States: Lyndon B. Johnson, 1963–64. Volume II, entry 446, pp. 842–844. Washington, D. C.: Government Printing Ofﬁce, 1965. Retrieved from the Lyndon Baines Johnson Library, National Archives and Records Administration.

123. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 This is an excerpt from a transcription of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, which outlawed the requirement that would-be voters in the United States take literacy tests to qualify to register to vote. Literacy tests were routinely inﬂicted on disenfranchised voters in the deep South to keep them from voting in local and national elections. This act provided for federal registration of voters in areas that had less than 50 percent of eligible minority voters registered. AN ACT To enforce the ﬁfteenth amendment to the Constitution of the United States, and for other purposes. Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That this Act shall be known as the ‘‘Voting Rights Act of 1965.’’ SEC. 2. No voting qualiﬁcation or prerequisite to voting, or standard, practice, or procedure shall be imposed or applied by any State or political subdivision to deny or abridge the right of any citizen of the United States to vote on account of race or color. SEC. 3. (a) Whenever the Attorney General institutes a proceeding under any statute to enforce the guarantees of the ﬁfteenth amendment in any State or political subdivision the court shall authorize the appointment of Federal examiners by the United States Civil Service Commission in accordance with section 6 to serve for such period of time and for such political subdivisions as the court shall determine is appropriate to enforce the guarantees of the ﬁfteenth amendment (1) as part of any interlocutory order if the court determines that the appointment of such examiners is necessary to enforce such guarantees or (2) as part of any ﬁnal judgment if the court ﬁnds that violations of the ﬁfteenth amendment justifying equitable relief have occurred in such State or subdivision: Provided, That the court need not authorize the appointment of examiners if any incidents of denial or abridgement of the right to vote on account of race or color (1) have been few in number and have been promptly and effectively corrected by State or local action, (2) the continuing effect of such incidents has been eliminated, and (3) there is no reasonable probability of their recurrence in the future.

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(b) If in a proceeding instituted by the Attorney General under any statute to enforce the guarantees of the ﬁfteenth amendment in any State or political subdivision the court ﬁnds that a test or device has been used for the purpose or with the effect of denying or abridging the right of any citizen of the United States to vote on account of race or color, it shall suspend the use of tests and devices in such State or political subdivisions as the court shall determine is appropriate and for such period as it deems necessary. (c) If in any proceeding instituted by the Attorney General under any statute to enforce the guarantees of the ﬁfteenth amendment in any State or political subdivision the court ﬁnds that violations of the ﬁfteenth amendment justifying equitable relief have occurred within the territory of such State or political subdivision, the court, in addition to such relief as it may grant, shall retain jurisdiction for such period as it may deem appropriate and during such period no voting qualiﬁcation or prerequisite to voting, or standard, practice, or procedure with respect to voting different from that in force or effect at the time the proceeding was commenced shall be enforced unless and until the court ﬁnds that such qualiﬁcation, prerequisite, standard, practice, or procedure does not have the purpose and will not have the effect of denying or abridging the right to vote on account of race or color: Provided, That such qualiﬁcation, prerequisite, standard, practice, or procedure may be enforced if the qualiﬁcation, prerequisite, standard, practice, or procedure has been submitted by the chief legal ofﬁcer or other appropriate ofﬁcial of such State or subdivision to the Attorney General and the Attorney General has not interposed an objection within sixty days after such submission, except that neither the court’s ﬁnding nor the Attorney General’s failure to object shall bar a subsequent action to enjoin enforcement of such qualiﬁcation, prerequisite, standard, practice, or procedure. SEC. 4. (a) To assure that the right of citizens of the United States to vote is not denied or abridged on account of race or color, no citizen shall be denied the right to vote in any Federal, State, or local election because of his failure to comply with any test or device in any State with respect to which the determinations have been made under subsection (b) or in any political subdivision with respect to which such determinations have been made as a separate unit, unless the United States District Court for the District of Columbia in an action for a declaratory judgment brought by such State or subdivision against the United States has determined that no such test or device has been used during the ﬁve years preceding the ﬁling of the action for the purpose or with the effect of denying or abridging the right to vote on account of race or color: Provided, That no such declaratory judgment shall issue with respect to any plaintiff for a period of ﬁve years after the entry of a ﬁnal judgment of any court of the United States, other than the denial of a declaratory judgment under this section, whether entered prior to or after the enactment of this Act, determining that denials or abridgments of the right to vote on account of race or color through the use of such tests or devices have occurred anywhere in the territory of such plaintiff. An action pursuant to this subsection shall be heard and determined by a court of three judges in accordance with the provisions of section 2284 of title 28 of the United States Code and any appeal shall lie to the Supreme Court. The court shall retain jurisdiction of any action pursuant to this subsection for ﬁve years after judgment and shall reopen the action upon motion of the Attorney General alleging that a test or device has been used for the purpose or with the effect of denying or abridging the right to vote on account of race or color.

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If the Attorney General determines that he has no reason to believe that any such test or device has been used during the ﬁve years preceding the ﬁling of the action for the purpose or with the effect of denying or abridging the right to vote on account of race or color, he shall consent to the entry of such judgment. (b) The provisions of subsection (a) shall apply in any State or in any political subdivision of a state which (1) the Attorney General determines maintained on November 1, 1964, any test or device, and with respect to which (2) the Director of the Census determines that less than 50 percentum of the persons of voting age residing therein were registered on November 1, 1964, or that less than 50 percentum of such persons voted in the presidential election of November 1964. A determination or certiﬁcation of the Attorney General or of the Director of the Census under this section or under section 6 or section 13 shall not be reviewable in any court and shall be effective upon publication in the Federal Register. (c) The phrase ‘‘test or device’’ shall mean any requirement that a person as a prerequisite for voting or registration for voting (1) demonstrate the ability to read, write, understand, or interpret any matter, (2) demonstrate any educational achievement or his knowledge of any particular subject, (3) possess good moral character, or (4) prove his qualiﬁcations by the voucher of registered voters or members of any other class. (d) For purposes of this section no State or political subdivision shall be determined to have engaged in the use of tests or devices for the purpose or with the effect of denying or abridging the right to vote on account of race or color if (1) incidents of such use have been few in number and have been promptly and effectively corrected by State or local action, (2) the continuing effect of such incidents has been eliminated, and (3) there is no reasonable probability of their recurrence in the future. (e) (1) Congress hereby declares that to secure the rights under the fourteenth amendment of persons educated in American-ﬂag schools in which the predominant classroom language was other than English, it is necessary to prohibit the States from conditioning the right to vote of such persons on ability to read, write, understand, or interpret any matter in the English language. (2) No person who demonstrates that he has successfully completed the sixth primary grade in a public school in, or a private school accredited by, any State or territory, the District of Columbia, or the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico in which the predominant classroom language was other than English, shall be denied the right to vote in any Federal, State, or local election because of his inability to read, write, understand, or interpret any matter in the English language, except that, in States in which State law provides that a different level of education is presumptive of literacy, he shall demonstrate that he has successfully completed an equivalent level of education in a public school in, or a private school accredited by, any State or territory, the District of Columbia, or the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico in which the predominant classroom language was other than English. SEC. 5. Whenever a State or political subdivision with respect to which the prohibitions set forth in section 4(a) are in effect shall enact or seek to administer any voting qualiﬁcation or prerequisite to voting, or standard, practice, or procedure with respect to voting different from that in force or effect on November 1, 1964, such State or subdivision may institute an action in the United States District Court for the District of Columbia for a declaratory judgment that such qualiﬁcation, prerequisite, standard, practice, or procedure does not have the purpose and will not

123. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 551

have the effect of denying or abridging the right to vote on account of race or color, and unless and until the court enters such judgment no person shall be denied the right to vote for failure to comply with such qualiﬁcation, prerequisite, standard, practice, or procedure: Provided, That such qualiﬁcation, prerequisite, standard, practice, or procedure may be enforced without such proceeding if the qualiﬁcation, prerequisite, standard, practice, or procedure has been submitted by the chief legal ofﬁcer or other appropriate ofﬁcial of such State or subdivision to the Attorney General and the Attorney General has not interposed an objection within sixty days after such submission, except that neither the Attorney General’s failure to object nor a declaratory judgment entered under this section shall bar a subsequent action to enjoin enforcement of such qualiﬁcation, prerequisite, standard, practice, or procedure. Any action under this section shall be heard and determined by a court of three judges in accordance with the provisions of section 2284 of title 28 of the United States Code and any appeal shall lie to the Supreme Court. SEC. 6. Whenever (a) a court has authorized the appointment of examiners pursuant to the provisions of section 3(a), or (b) unless a declaratory judgment has been rendered under section 4(a), the Attorney General certiﬁes with respect to any political subdivision named in, or included within the scope of, determinations made under section 4(b) that (1) he has received complaints in writing from twenty or more residents of such political subdivision alleging that they have been denied the right to vote under color of law on account of race or color, and that he believes such complaints to be meritorious, or (2) that, in his judgment (considering, among other factors, whether the ratio of nonwhite persons to white persons registered to vote within such subdivision appears to him to be reasonably attributable to violations of the ﬁfteenth amendment or whether substantial evidence exists that bona ﬁde efforts are being made within such subdivision to comply with the ﬁfteenth amendment), the appointment of examiners is otherwise necessary to enforce the guarantees of the ﬁfteenth amendment, the Civil Service Commission shall appoint as many examiners for such subdivision as it may deem appropriate to prepare and maintain lists of persons eligible to vote in Federal, State, and local elections. Such examiners, hearing ofﬁcers provided for in section 9(a), and other persons deemed necessary by the Commission to carry out the provisions and purposes of this Act shall be appointed, compensated, and separated without regard to the provisions of any statute administered by the Civil Service Commission, and service under this Act shall not be considered employment for the purposes of any statute administered by the Civil Service Commission, except the provisions of section 9 of the Act of August 2, 1939, as amended (5 U.S.C. 118i), prohibiting partisan political activity: Provided, That the Commission is authorized, after consulting the head of the appropriate department or agency, to designate suitable persons in the ofﬁcial service of the United States, with their consent, to serve in these positions. Examiners and hearing ofﬁcers shall have the power to administer oaths. SEC. 7. (a) The examiners for each political subdivision shall, at such places as the Civil Service Commission shall by regulation designate, examine applicants concerning their qualiﬁcations for voting. An application to an examiner shall be in such form as the Commission may require and shall contain allegations that the applicant is not otherwise registered to vote. (b) Any person whom the examiner ﬁnds, in accordance with instructions received under section 9(b), to have the qualiﬁcations prescribed by State law not

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inconsistent with the Constitution and laws of the United States shall promptly be placed on a list of eligible voters. A challenge to such listing may be made in accordance with section 9(a) and shall not be the basis for a prosecution under section 12 of this Act. The examiner shall certify and transmit such list, and any supplements as appropriate, at least once a month, to the ofﬁces of the appropriate election ofﬁcials, with copies to the Attorney General and the attorney general of the State, and any such lists and supplements thereto transmitted during the month shall be available for public inspection on the last business day of the month and, in any event, not later than the forty-ﬁfth day prior to any election. The appropriate State or local election ofﬁcial shall place such names on the ofﬁcial voting list. Any person whose name appears on the examiner’s list shall be entitled and allowed to vote in the election district of his residence unless and until the appropriate election ofﬁcials shall have been notiﬁed that such person has been removed from such list in accordance with subsection (d): Provided, That no person shall be entitled to vote in any election by virtue of this Act unless his name shall have been certiﬁed and transmitted on such a list to the ofﬁces of the appropriate election ofﬁcials at least forty-ﬁve days prior to such election. (c) The examiner shall issue to each person whose name appears on such a list a certiﬁcate evidencing his eligibility to vote. (d) A person whose name appears on such a list shall be removed therefrom by an examiner if (1) such person has been successfully challenged in accordance with the procedure prescribed in section 9, or (2) he has been determined by an examiner to have lost his eligibility to vote under State law not inconsistent with the Constitution and the laws of the United States. Sec. 8. Whenever an examiner is serving under this Act in any political subdivision, the Civil Service Commission may assign, at the request of the Attorney General, one or more persons, who may be ofﬁcers of the United States, (1) to enter and attend at any place for holding an election in such subdivision for the purpose of observing whether persons who are entitled to vote are being permitted to vote, and (2) to enter and attend at any place for tabulating the votes cast at any election held in such subdivision for the purpose of observing whether votes cast by persons entitled to vote are being properly tabulated. Such persons so assigned shall report to an examiner appointed for such political subdivision, to the Attorney General, and if the appointment of examiners has been authorized pursuant to section 3(a), to the court. SEC. 9. (a) Any challenge to a listing on an eligibility list prepared by an examiner shall be heard and determined by a hearing ofﬁcer appointed by and responsible to the Civil Service Commission and under such rules as the Commission shall by regulation prescribe. Such challenge shall be entertained only if ﬁled at such ofﬁce within the State as the Civil Service Commission shall by regulation designate, and within ten days after the listing of the challenged person is made available for public inspection, and if supported by (1) the afﬁdavits of at least two persons having personal knowledge of the facts constituting grounds for the challenge, and (2) a certiﬁcation that a copy of the challenge and afﬁdavits have been served by mail or in person upon the person challenged at his place of residence set out in the application. Such challenge shall be determined within ﬁfteen days after it has been ﬁled. A petition for review of the decision of the hearing ofﬁcer may be ﬁled in the United States court of appeals for the circuit in which the person challenged resides

123. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 553

within ﬁfteen days after service of such decision by mail on the person petitioning for review but no decision of a hearing ofﬁcer shall be reversed unless clearly erroneous. Any person listed shall be entitled and allowed to vote pending ﬁnal determination by the hearing ofﬁcer and by the court. (b) The times, places, procedures, and form for application and listing pursuant to this Act and removals from the eligibility lists shall be prescribed by regulations promulgated by the Civil Service Commission and the Commission shall, after consultation with the Attorney General, instruct examiners concerning applicable State law not inconsistent with the Constitution and laws of the United States with respect to (1) the qualiﬁcations required for listing, and (2) loss of eligibility to vote. (c) Upon the request of the applicant or the challenger or on its own motion the Civil Service Commission shall have the power to require by subpoena the attendance and testimony of witnesses and the production of documentary evidence relating to any matter pending before it under the authority of this section. In case of contumacy or refusal to obey a subpoena, any district court of the United States or the United States court of any territory or possession, or the District Court of the United States for the District of Columbia, within the jurisdiction of which said person guilty of contumacy or refusal to obey is found or resides or is domiciled or transacts business, or has appointed an agent for receipt of service of process, upon application by the Attorney General of the United States shall have jurisdiction to issue to such person an order requiring such person to appear before the Commission or a hearing ofﬁcer, there to produce pertinent, relevant, and nonprivileged documentary evidence if so ordered, or there to give testimony touching the matter under investigation, and any failure to obey such order of the court may be punished by said court as a contempt thereof. SEC. 10. (a) The Congress ﬁnds that the requirement of the payment of a poll tax as a precondition to voting (i) precludes persons of limited means from voting or imposes unreasonable ﬁnancial hardship upon such persons as a precondition to their exercise of the franchise, (ii) does not bear a reasonable relationship to any legitimate State interest in the conduct of elections, and (iii) in some areas has the purpose or effect of denying persons the right to vote because of race or color. Upon the basis of these ﬁndings, Congress declares that the constitutional right of citizens to vote is denied or abridged in some areas by the requirement of the payment of a poll tax as a precondition to voting. (b) In the exercise of the powers of Congress under section 5 of the fourteenth amendment and section 2 of the ﬁfteenth amendment, the Attorney General is authorized and directed to institute forthwith in the name of the United States such actions, including actions against States or political subdivisions, for declaratory judgment or injunctive relief against the enforcement of any requirement of the payment of a poll tax as a precondition to voting, or substitute therefore enacted after November 1, 1964, as will be necessary to implement the declaration of subsection (a) and the purposes of this section. (c) The district courts of the United States shall have jurisdiction of such actions which shall be heard and determined by a court of three judges in accordance with the provisions of section 2284 of title 28 of the United States Code and any appeal shall lie to the Supreme Court. It shall be the duty of the judges designated to hear the case to assign the case for hearing at the earliest practicable date, to participate

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in the hearing and determination thereof, and to cause the case to be in every way expedited. (d) During the pendency of such actions, and thereafter if the courts, notwithstanding this action by the Congress, should declare the requirement of the payment of a poll tax to be constitutional, no citizen of the United States who is a resident of a State or political subdivision with respect to which determinations have been made under subsection 4(b) and a declaratory judgment has not been entered under subsection 4(a), during the ﬁrst year he becomes otherwise entitled to vote by reason of registration by State or local ofﬁcials or listing by an examiner, shall be denied the right to vote for failure to pay a poll tax if he tenders payment of such tax for the current year to an examiner or to the appropriate State or local ofﬁcial at least forty-ﬁve days prior to election, whether or not such tender would be timely or adequate under State law. An examiner shall have authority to accept such payment from any person authorized by this Act to make an application for listing, and shall issue a receipt for such payment. The examiner shall transmit promptly any such poll tax payment to the ofﬁce of the State or local ofﬁcial authorized to receive such payment under State law, together with the name and address of the applicant. SEC. 11. (a) No person acting under color of law shall fail or refuse to permit any person to vote who is entitled to vote under any provision of this Act or is otherwise qualiﬁed to vote, or willfully fail or refuse to tabulate, count, and report such person’s vote. (b) No person, whether acting under color of law or otherwise, shall intimidate, threaten, or coerce, or attempt to intimidate, threaten, or coerce any person for voting or attempting to vote, or intimidate, threaten, or coerce, or attempt to intimidate, threaten, or coerce any person for urging or aiding any person to vote or attempt to vote, or intimidate, threaten, or coerce any person for exercising any powers or duties under section 3(a), 6, 8, 9, 10, or 12(e). (c) Whoever knowingly or willfully gives false information as to his name, address, or period of residence in the voting district for the purpose of establishing his eligibility to register or vote, or conspires with another individual for the purpose of encouraging his false registration to vote or illegal voting, or pays or offers to pay or accepts payment either for registration to vote or for voting shall be ﬁned not more than $10,000 or imprisoned not more than ﬁve years, or both: Provided, however, That this provision shall be applicable only to general, special, or primary elections held solely or in part for the purpose of selecting or electing any candidate for the ofﬁce of President, Vice President, presidential elector, Member of the United States Senate, Member of the United States House of Representatives, or Delegates or Commissioners from the territories or possessions, or Resident Commissioner of the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico. (d) Whoever, in any matter within the jurisdiction of an examiner or hearing ofﬁcer knowingly and willfully falsiﬁes or conceals a material fact, or makes any false, ﬁctitious, or fraudulent statements or representations, or makes or uses any false writing or document knowing the same to contain any false, ﬁctitious, or fraudulent statement or entry, shall be ﬁned not more than $10,000 or imprisoned not more than ﬁve years, or both. SEC. 12. (a) Whoever shall deprive or attempt to deprive any person of any right secured by section 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, or 10 or shall violate section 11(a) or (b), shall be ﬁned not more than $5,000, or imprisoned not more than ﬁve years, or both.

123. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 555

(b) Whoever, within a year following an election in a political subdivision in which an examiner has been appointed (1) destroys, defaces, mutilates, or otherwise alters the marking of a paper ballot which has been cast in such election, or (2) alters any ofﬁcial record of voting in such election tabulated from a voting machine or otherwise, shall be ﬁned not more than $5,000, or imprisoned not more than ﬁve years, or both (c) Whoever conspires to violate the provisions of subsection (a) or (b) of this section, or interferes with any right secured by section 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 10, or 11(a) or (b) shall be ﬁned not more than $5,000, or imprisoned not more than ﬁve years, or both. (d) Whenever any person has engaged or there are reasonable grounds to believe that any person is about to engage in any act or practice prohibited by section 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 10, 11, or subsection (b) of this section, the Attorney General may institute for the United States, or in the name of the United States, an action for preventive relief, including an application for a temporary or permanent injunction, restraining order, or other order, and including an order directed to the State and State or local election ofﬁcials to require them (1) to permit persons listed under this Act to vote and (2) to count such votes. (e) Whenever in any political subdivision in which there are examiners appointed pursuant to this Act any persons allege to such an examiner within fortyeight hours after the closing of the polls that notwithstanding (1) their listing under this Act or registration by an appropriate election ofﬁcial and (2) their eligibility to vote, they have not been permitted to vote in such election, the examiner shall forthwith notify the Attorney General if such allegations in his opinion appear to be well founded. Upon receipt of such notiﬁcation, the Attorney General may forthwith ﬁle with the district court an application for an order providing for the marking, casting, and counting of the ballots of such persons and requiring the inclusion of their votes in the total vote before the results of such election shall be deemed ﬁnal and any force or effect given thereto. The district court shall hear and determine such matters immediately after the ﬁling of such application. The remedy provided in this subsection shall not preclude any remedy available under State or Federal law. (f) The district courts of the United States shall have jurisdiction of proceedings instituted pursuant to this section and shall exercise the same without regard to whether a person asserting rights under the provisions of this Act shall have exhausted any administrative or other remedies that may be provided by law SEC. 13. Listing procedures shall be terminated in any political subdivision of any State (a) with respect to examiners appointed pursuant to clause (b) of section 6 whenever the Attorney General notiﬁes the Civil Service Commission, or whenever the District Court for the District of Columbia determines in an action for declaratory judgment brought by any political subdivision with respect to which the Director of the Census has determined that more than 50 percentum of the nonwhite persons of voting age residing therein are registered to vote, (1) that all persons listed by an examiner for such subdivision have been placed on the appropriate voting registration roll, and (2) that there is no longer reasonable cause to believe that persons will be deprived of or denied the right to vote on account of race or color in such subdivision, and (b), with respect to examiners appointed pursuant to section 3(a), upon order of the authorizing court. A political subdivision may

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petition the Attorney General for the termination of listing procedures under clause (a) of this section, and may petition the Attorney General to request the Director of the Census to take such survey or census as may be appropriate for the making of the determination provided for in this section. The District Court for the District of Columbia shall have jurisdiction to require such survey or census to be made by the Director of the Census and it shall require him to do so if it deems the Attorney General’s refusal to request such survey or census to be arbitrary or unreasonable. SEC. 14. (a) All cases of criminal contempt arising under the provisions of this Act shall be governed by section 151 of the Civil Rights Act of 1957 (42 U.S.C. 1995). (b) No court other than the District Court for the District of Columbia or a court of appeals in any proceeding under section 9 shall have jurisdiction to issue any declaratory judgment pursuant to section 4 or section 5 or any restraining order or temporary or permanent injunction against the execution or enforcement of any provision of this Act or any action of any Federal ofﬁcer or employee pursuant hereto. (c) (1) The terms ‘‘vote’’ or ‘‘voting’’ shall include all action necessary to make a vote effective in any primary, special, or general election, including, but not limited to, registration, listing pursuant to this Act, or other action required by law prerequisite to voting, casting a ballot, and having such ballot counted properly and included in the appropriate totals of votes cast with respect to candidates for public or party ofﬁce and propositions for which votes are received in an election. (2) The term ‘‘political subdivision’’ shall mean any county or parish, except that, where registration for voting is not conducted under the supervision of a county or parish, the term shall include any other subdivision of a State which conducts registration for voting. (d) In any action for a declaratory judgment brought pursuant to section 4 or section 5 of this Act, subpoenas for witnesses who are required to attend the District Court for the District of Columbia may be served in any judicial district of the United States: Provided, That no writ of subpoena shall issue for witnesses without the District of Columbia at a greater distance than one hundred miles from the place of holding court without the permission of the District Court for the District of Columbia being ﬁrst had upon proper application and cause shown. SEC. 15. Section 2004 of the Revised Statutes (42 U.S.C.1971), as amended by section 131 of the Civil Rights Act of 1957 (71 Stat. 637), and amended by section 601 of the Civil Rights Act of 1960 (74 Stat. 90), and as further amended by section 101 of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 (78 Stat. 241), is further amended as follows: (a) Delete the word ‘‘Federal’’ wherever it appears in subsections (a) and (c); (b) Repeal subsection (f) and designate the present subsections (g) and (h) as (f) and (g), respectively. SEC. 16. The Attorney General and the Secretary of Defense, jointly, shall make a full and complete study to determine whether, under the laws or practices of any State or States, there are preconditions to voting, which might tend to result in discrimination against citizens serving in the Armed Forces of the United States seeking to vote. Such ofﬁcials shall, jointly, make a report to the Congress not later than June 30, 1966, containing the results of such study, together with a list of any States in which such preconditions exist, and shall include in such report such recommendations for legislation as they deem advisable to prevent discrimination in voting against citizens serving in the Armed Forces of the United States.

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SEC. 17. Nothing in this Act shall be construed to deny, impair, or otherwise adversely affect the right to vote of any person registered to vote under the law of any State or political subdivision. SEC. 18. There are hereby authorized to be appropriated such sums as are necessary to carry out the provisions of this Act SEC 19. If any provision of this Act or the application thereof to any person or circumstances is held invalid, the remainder of the Act and the application of the provision to other persons not similarly situated or to other circumstances shall not be affected thereby. Approved August 6, 1965. Source: United States Statutes at Large. C 1996–2007 The Avalon Project at Yale Law School.

124. The Equal Employment Opportunity Act, 1965 This is among the most important civil rights legislation passed in the United States. It made it a crime under federal law to discriminate in employment on the basis of race. It was landmark legislation that led to countless groundbreaking class action lawsuits that forced sweeping changes in U.S. employment practices. Under and by virtue of the authority vested in me as President of the United States by the Constitution and statutes of the United States, it is ordered as follows: Part I—Nondiscrimination in Government Employment Part II—Nondiscrimination in Employment by Government Contractors and Subcontractors Subpart A - Duties of the Secretary of Labor SEC. 201. The Secretary of Labor shall be responsible for the administration and enforcement of Parts II and III of this Order. The Secretary shall adopt such rules and regulations and issue such orders as are deemed necessary and appropriate to achieve the purposes of Parts II and III of this Order. [Sec. 201 amended by EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, l978 Comp., p. 230] Subpart B - Contractors’ Agreements SEC. 202. Except in contracts exempted in accordance with Section 204 of this Order, all Government contracting agencies shall include in every Government contract hereafter entered into the following provisions: During the performance of this contract, the contractor agrees as follows: (1) The contractor will not discriminate against any employee or applicant for employment because of race, color, religion, sex, or national origin. The contractor will take afﬁrmative action to ensure that applicants are employed, and that employees are treated during employment, without regard to their race, color, religion, sex or national origin. Such action shall include, but not be limited to the following: employment, upgrading, demotion, or transfer; recruitment or recruitment advertising; layoff or termination; rates of pay or other forms of compensation; and selection for training, including apprenticeship. The contractor agrees to post in conspicuous places, available to employees and applicants for employment, notices to be provided by the contracting ofﬁcer setting forth the provisions of this nondiscrimination clause.

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(2) The contractor will, in all solicitations or advancements for employees placed by or on behalf of the contractor, state that all qualiﬁed applicants will receive consideration for employment without regard to race, color, religion, sex or national origin. (3) The contractor will send to each labor union or representative of workers with which he has a collective bargaining agreement or other contract or understanding, a notice, to be provided by the agency contracting ofﬁcer, advising the labor union or workers’ representative of the contractor’s commitments under Section 202 of Executive Order No. 11246 of September 24, 1965, and shall post copies of the notice in conspicuous places available to employees and applicants for employment. (4) The contractor will comply with provisions of Executive Order No. 11246 of Sept. 24, 1965, and of the rules, regulations, and relevant orders of the Secretary of Labor. (5) The contractor will furnish all information and reports required by Executive Order No. 11246 of September 24, 1965, and by the rules, regulations, and orders of the Secretary of Labor, or pursuant thereto, and will permit access to his books, records, and accounts by the contracting agency and the Secretary of Labor for purposes of investigation to ascertain compliance with such rules, regulations, and orders. (6) In the event of the contractor’s noncompliance with the nondiscrimination clauses of this contract or with any of such rules, regulations, or orders, this contract may be cancelled, terminated, or suspended in whole or in part and the contractor may be declared ineligible for further Government contracts in accordance with procedures authorized in Executive Order No. 11246 of Sept. 24, 1965, and such other sanctions may be imposed and remedies invoked as provided in Executive Order No. 11246 of September 24, 1965, or by rule, regulation, or order of the Secretary of Labor, or as otherwise provided by law. (7) The contractor will include the provisions of paragraphs (1) through (7) in every subcontract or purchase order unless exempted by rules, regulations, or orders of the Secretary of Labor issued pursuant to Section 204 of Executive Order No. 11246 of September 24, 1965, so that such provisions will be binding upon each subcontractor or vendor. The contractor will take such action with respect to any subcontract or purchase order as may be directed by the Secretary of Labor as a means of enforcing such provisions including sanctions for noncompliance: Provided, however, that in the event the contractor becomes involved in, or is threatened with, litigation with a subcontractor or vendor as a result of such direction, the contractor may request the United States to enter into such litigation to protect the interests of the United States.’’ [Sec. 202 amended by EO 11375 of Oct. 13, 1967, 32 FR 14303, 3 CFR, 1966–1970 Comp., p. 684, EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p. 230] SEC. 203(a). Each contractor having a contract containing the provisions prescribed in Section 202 shall ﬁle, and shall cause each of his subcontractors to ﬁle, Compliance Reports with the contracting agency or the Secretary of Labor as may be directed. Compliance Reports shall be ﬁled within such times and shall contain such information as to the practices, policies, programs, and employment policies, programs, and employment statistics of the contractor and each subcontractor, and shall be in such form, as the Secretary of Labor may prescribe. (b) Bidders or prospective contractors or subcontractors may be required to state whether they have participated in any previous contract subject to the provisions of

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this Order, or any preceding similar Executive order, and in that event to submit, on behalf of themselves and their proposed subcontractors, Compliance Reports prior to or as an initial part of their bid or negotiation of a contract. (c) Whenever the contractor or subcontractor has a collective bargaining agreement or other contract or understanding with a labor union or an agency referring workers or providing or supervising apprenticeship or training for such workers, the Compliance Report shall include such information as to such labor union’s or agency’s practices and policies affecting compliance as the Secretary of Labor may prescribe: Provided, That to the extent such information is within the exclusive possession of a labor union or an agency referring workers or providing or supervising apprenticeship or training and such labor union or agency shall refuse to furnish such information to the contractor, the contractor shall so certify to the Secretary of Labor as part of its Compliance Report and shall set forth what efforts he has made to obtain such information. (d) The Secretary of Labor may direct that any bidder or prospective contractor or subcontractor shall submit, as part of his Compliance Report, a statement in writing, signed by an authorized ofﬁcer or agent on behalf of any labor union or any agency referring workers or providing or supervising apprenticeship or other training, with which the bidder or prospective contractor deals, with supporting information, to the effect that the signer’s practices and policies do not discriminate on the grounds of race, color, religion, sex or national origin, and that the signer either will afﬁrmatively cooperate in the implementation of the policy and provisions of this Order or that it consents and agrees that recruitment, employment, and the terms and conditions of employment under the proposed contract shall be in accordance with the purposes and provisions of the order. In the event that the union, or the agency shall refuse to execute such a statement, the Compliance Report shall so certify and set forth what efforts have been made to secure such a statement and such additional factual material as the Secretary of Labor may require. [Sec. 203 amended by EO 11375 of Oct. 13, 1967, 32 FR 14303, 3 CFR, 1966– 1970 Comp., p. 684; EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p. 230] SEC. 204 (a) The Secretary of Labor may, when the Secretary deems that special circumstances in the national interest so require, exempt a contracting agency from the requirement of including any or all of the provisions of Section 202 of this Order in any speciﬁc contract, subcontract, or purchase order. (b) The Secretary of Labor may, by rule or regulation, exempt certain classes of contracts, subcontracts, or purchase orders (1) whenever work is to be or has been performed outside the United States and no recruitment of workers within the limits of the United States is involved; (2) for standard commercial supplies or raw materials; (3) involving less than speciﬁed amounts of money or speciﬁed numbers of workers; or (4) to the extent that they involve subcontracts below a speciﬁed tier. (c) Section 202 of this Order shall not apply to a Government contractor or subcontractor that is a religious corporation, association, educational institution, or society, with respect to the employment of individuals of a particular religion to perform work connected with the carrying on by such corporation, association, educational institution, or society of its activities. Such contractors and subcontractors are not exempted or excused from complying with the other requirements contained in this Order.

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(d) The Secretary of Labor may also provide, by rule, regulation, or order, for the exemption of facilities of a contractor that are in all respects separate and distinct from activities of the contractor related to the performance of the contract: provided, that such an exemption will not interfere with or impede the effectuation of the purposes of this Order: and provided further, that in the absence of such an exemption all facilities shall be covered by the provisions of this Order.’’ [Sec. 204 amended by EO 13279 of Dec. 16, 2002, 67 FR 77141, 3 CFR, 2002 Comp., p. 77141–77144] Subpart C - Powers and Duties of the Secretary of Labor and the Contracting Agencies SEC. 205. The Secretary of Labor shall be responsible for securing compliance by all Government contractors and subcontractors with this Order and any implementing rules or regulations. All contracting agencies shall comply with the terms of this Order and any implementing rules, regulations, or orders of the Secretary of Labor. Contracting agencies shall cooperate with the Secretary of Labor and shall furnish such information and assistance as the Secretary may require. [Sec. 205 amended by EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p. 230] SEC. 206(a). The Secretary of Labor may investigate the employment practices of any Government contractor or subcontractor to determine whether or not the contractual provisions speciﬁed in Section 202 of this Order have been violated. Such investigation shall be conducted in accordance with the procedures established by the Secretary of Labor. (b) The Secretary of Labor may receive and investigate complaints by employees or prospective employees of a Government contractor or subcontractor which allege discrimination contrary to the contractual provisions speciﬁed in Section 202 of this Order. [Sec. 206 amended by EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p. 230] SEC. 207. The Secretary of Labor shall use his/her best efforts, directly and through interested Federal, State, and local agencies, contractors, and all other available instrumentalities to cause any labor union engaged in work under Government contracts or any agency referring workers or providing or supervising apprenticeship or training for or in the course of such work to cooperate in the implementation of the purposes of this Order. The Secretary of Labor shall, in appropriate cases, notify the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, the Department of Justice, or other appropriate Federal agencies whenever it has reason to believe that the practices of any such labor organization or agency violate Title VI or Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 or other provision of Federal law. [Sec. 207 amended by EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p. 230] SEC. 208(a). The Secretary of Labor, or any agency, ofﬁcer, or employee in the executive branch of the Government designated by rule, regulation, or order of the Secretary, may hold such hearings, public or private, as the Secretary may deem advisable for compliance, enforcement, or educational purposes. (b) The Secretary of Labor may hold, or cause to be held, hearings in accordance with Subsection of this Section prior to imposing, ordering, or recommending the imposition of penalties and sanctions under this Order. No order for debarment of

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any contractor from further Government contracts under Section 209(6) shall be made without affording the contractor an opportunity for a hearing. Subpart D - Sanctions and Penalties SEC. 209(a). In accordance with such rules, regulations, or orders as the Secretary of Labor may issue or adopt, the Secretary may: (1) Publish, or cause to be published, the names of contractors or unions which it has concluded have complied or have failed to comply with the provisions of this Order or of the rules, regulations, and orders of the Secretary of Labor. (2) Recommend to the Department of Justice that, in cases in which there is substantial or material violation or the threat of substantial or material violation of the contractual provisions set forth in Section 202 of this Order, appropriate proceedings be brought to enforce those provisions, including the enjoining, within the limitations of applicable law, of organizations, individuals, or groups who prevent directly or indirectly, or seek to prevent directly or indirectly, compliance with the provisions of this Order. (3) Recommend to the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission or the Department of Justice that appropriate proceedings be instituted under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. (4) Recommend to the Department of Justice that criminal proceedings be brought for the furnishing of false information to any contracting agency or to the Secretary of Labor as the case may be. (5) After consulting with the contracting agency, direct the contracting agency to cancel, terminate, suspend, or cause to be cancelled, terminated, or suspended, any contract, or any portion or portions thereof, for failure of the contractor or subcontractor to comply with equal employment opportunity provisions of the contract. Contracts may be cancelled, terminated, or suspended absolutely or continuance of contracts may be conditioned upon a program for future compliance approved by the Secretary of Labor. (6) Provide that any contracting agency shall refrain from entering into further contracts, or extensions or other modiﬁcations of existing contracts, with any noncomplying contractor, until such contractor has satisﬁed the Secretary of Labor that such contractor has established and will carry out personnel and employment policies in compliance with the provisions of this Order. (b) Pursuant to rules and regulations prescribed by the Secretary of Labor, the Secretary shall make reasonable efforts, within a reasonable time limitation, to secure compliance with the contract provisions of this Order by methods of conference, conciliation, mediation, and persuasion before proceedings shall be instituted under subsection (a)(2) of this Section, or before a contract shall be cancelled or terminated in whole or in part under subsection (a)(5) of this Section. [Sec. 209 amended by EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p. 230] SEC. 210. Whenever the Secretary of Labor makes a determination under Section 209, the Secretary shall promptly notify the appropriate agency. The agency shall take the action directed by the Secretary and shall report the results of the action it has taken to the Secretary of Labor within such time as the Secretary shall specify. If the contracting agency fails to take the action directed within thirty days, the Secretary may take the action directly.

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[Sec. 210 amended by EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p 230] SEC. 211. If the Secretary shall so direct, contracting agencies shall not enter into contracts with any bidder or prospective contractor unless the bidder or prospective contractor has satisfactorily complied with the provisions of this Order or submits a program for compliance acceptable to the Secretary of Labor. [Sec. 211 amended by EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p. 230] SEC. 212. When a contract has been cancelled or terminated under Section 209(a)(5) or a contractor has been debarred from further Government contracts under Section 209(a)(6) of this Order, because of noncompliance with the contract provisions speciﬁed in Section 202 of this Order, the Secretary of Labor shall promptly notify the Comptroller General of the United States. [Sec. 212 amended by EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p. 230] Subpart E - Certiﬁcates of Merit SEC. 213. The Secretary of Labor may provide for issuance of a United States Government Certiﬁcate of Merit to employers or labor unions, or other agencies which are or may hereafter be engaged in work under Government contracts, if the Secretary is satisﬁed that the personnel and employment practices of the employer, or that the personnel, training, apprenticeship, membership, grievance and representation, upgrading, and other practices and policies of the labor union or other agency conform to the purposes and provisions of this Order. SEC. 214. Any Certiﬁcate of Merit may at any time be suspended or revoked by the Secretary of Labor if the holder thereof, in the judgment of the Secretary, has failed to comply with the provisions of this Order. SEC. 215. The Secretary of Labor may provide for the exemption of any employer, labor union, or other agency from any reporting requirements imposed under or pursuant to this Order if such employer, labor union, or other agency has been awarded a Certiﬁcate of Merit which has not been suspended or revoked. Part III - Nondiscrimination Provisions in Federally Assisted Construction Contracts SEC. 301. Each executive department and agency, which administers a program involving Federal ﬁnancial assistance shall require as a condition for the approval of any grant, contract, loan, insurance, or guarantee thereunder, which may involve a construction contract, that the applicant for Federal assistance undertake and agree to incorporate, or cause to be incorporated, into all construction contracts paid for in whole or in part with funds obtained from the Federal Government or borrowed on the credit of the Federal Government pursuant to such grant, contract, loan, insurance, or guarantee, or undertaken pursuant to any Federal program involving such grant, contract, loan, insurance, or guarantee, the provisions prescribed for Government contracts by Section 202 of this Order or such modiﬁcation thereof, preserving in substance the contractor’s obligations thereunder, as may be approved by the Secretary of Labor, together with such additional provisions as the Secretary deems appropriate to establish and protect the interest of the United States in the enforcement of those obligations. Each such applicant shall also undertake and agree (1) to assist and cooperate actively with the Secretary of Labor in obtaining the

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compliance of contractors and subcontractors with those contract provisions and with the rules, regulations and relevant orders of the Secretary, (2) to obtain and to furnish to the Secretary of Labor such information as the Secretary may require for the supervision of such compliance, (3) to carry out sanctions and penalties for violation of such obligations imposed upon contractors and subcontractors by the Secretary of Labor pursuant to Part II, Subpart D, of this Order, and (4) to refrain from entering into any contract subject to this Order, or extension or other modiﬁcation of such a contract with a contractor debarred from Government contracts under Part II, Subpart D, of this Order. [Sec. 301 amended by EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p. 230] SEC. 302(a). ‘‘Construction contract’’ as used in this Order means any contract for the construction, rehabilitation, alteration, conversion, extension, or repair of buildings, highways, or other improvements to real property. (b) The provisions of Part II of this Order shall apply to such construction contracts, and for purposes of such application the administering department or agency shall be considered the contracting agency referred to therein. (c) The term ‘‘applicant’’ as used in this Order means an applicant for Federal assistance or, as determined by agency regulation, other program participant, with respect to whom an application for any grant, contract, loan, insurance, or guarantee is not ﬁnally acted upon prior to the effective date of this Part, and it includes such an applicant after he/she becomes a recipient of such Federal assistance. SEC. 303(a). The Secretary of Labor shall be responsible for obtaining the compliance of such applicants with their undertakings under this Order. Each administering department and agency is directed to cooperate with the Secretary of Labor and to furnish the Secretary such information and assistance as the Secretary may require in the performance of the Secretary’s functions under this Order. (b) In the event an applicant fails and refuses to comply with the applicant’s undertakings pursuant to this Order, the Secretary of Labor may, after consulting with the administering department or agency, take any or all of the following actions: (1) direct any administering department or agency to cancel, terminate, or suspend in whole or in part the agreement, contract or other arrangement with such applicant with respect to which the failure or refusal occurred; (2) direct any administering department or agency to refrain from extending any further assistance to the applicant under the program with respect to which the failure or refusal occurred until satisfactory assurance of future compliance has been received by the Secretary of Labor from such applicant; and (3) refer the case to the Department of Justice or the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission for appropriate law enforcement or other proceedings. (c) In no case shall action be taken with respect to an applicant pursuant to clause (1) or (2) of subsection (b) without notice and opportunity for hearing. [Sec. 303 amended by EO 12086 of Oct. 5, 1978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p. 230] SEC. 304. Any executive department or agency which imposes by rule, regulation, or order requirements of nondiscrimination in employment, other than requirements imposed pursuant to this Order, may delegate to the Secretary of Labor by agreement such responsibilities with respect to compliance standards, reports, and procedures as would tend to bring the administration of such requirements into conformity with the administration of requirements imposed under this Order: Provided,

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That actions to effect compliance by recipients of Federal ﬁnancial assistance with requirements imposed pursuant to Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 shall be taken into conformity with the procedures and limitations prescribed in Section 602 thereof and the regulations of the administering department or agency issued there under. Part IV - Miscellaneous SEC. 401. The Secretary of Labor may delegate to any ofﬁcer, agency, or employee in the Executive branch of the Government, any function or duty of the Secretary under Parts II and III of this Order. [Sec. 401 amended by EO 12086 of Oct. 5, l978, 43 FR 46501, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p. 230] SEC. 402. The Secretary of Labor shall provide administrative support for the execution of the program known as the ‘‘Plans for Progress.’’ SEC. 403(a). Executive Orders Nos. 10590 (January 19, 1955), 10722 (August 5, 1957), 10925 (March 6, 1961), 11114 (June 22, 1963), and 11162 (July 28, 1964), are hereby superseded and the President’s Committee on Equal Employment Opportunity established by Executive Order No. 10925 is hereby abolished. All records and property in the custody of the Committee shall be transferred to the Ofﬁce of Personnel Management and the Secretary of Labor, as appropriate. (b) Nothing in this Order shall be deemed to relieve any person of any obligation assumed or imposed under or pursuant to any Executive Order superseded by this Order. All rules, regulations, orders, instructions, designations, and other directives issued by the President’s Committee on Equal Employment Opportunity and those issued by the heads of various departments or agencies under or pursuant to any of the Executive orders superseded by this Order, shall, to the extent that they are not inconsistent with this Order, remain in full force and effect unless and until revoked or superseded by appropriate authority. References in such directives to provisions of the superseded orders shall be deemed to be references to the comparable provisions of this Order. [Sec. 403 amended by EO 12107 of Dec. 28, 1978, 44 FR 1055, 3 CFR, 1978 Comp., p, 264] SEC. 404. The General Services Administration shall take appropriate action to revise the standard Government contract forms to accord with the provisions of this Order and of the rules and regulations of the Secretary of Labor. SEC. 405. This Order shall become effective thirty days after the date of this Order. employment. Source: The provisions of Executive Order 11246 of Sept. 24, 1965, appear at 30 FR 12319, 12935, 3 CFR, 1964–1965 Comp., p.339. U.S. Department of Labor.

125. Statement on the Articles of Impeachment, July 25, 1974 BARBARA CHARLINE JORDAN On July 24, 1974, Representative Barbara Jordan (D-TX) spoke before the House Judiciary Committee on the constitutional basis for the impeachment of President Richard Nixon. The Committee met in Washington, D.C. Jordan, a black woman who served in the House of Representatives from 1973 until 1979. Born in Houston, she was an attorney who had graduated from Texas Southern University and had

125. Statement on the Articles of Impeachment, July 25, 1974 565

received her law degree from Boston University School of Law in 1959. She became a delegate to the Democratic National Convention in 1968 and was elected as a congresswoman in the 93rd Congress where she served until 1978. She did not seek reelection after that year. Mr. Chairman, I join my colleague Mr. Rangel in thanking you for giving the junior members of this committee the glorious opportunity of sharing the pain of this inquiry. Mr. Chairman, you are a strong man, and it has not been easy but we have tried as best we can to give you as much assistance as possible. Earlier today, we heard the beginning of the Preamble to the Constitution of the United States: ‘‘We, the people.’’ It’s a very eloquent beginning. But when that document was completed on the seventeenth of September in 1787, I was not included in that ‘‘We, the people.’’ I felt somehow for many years that George Washington and Alexander Hamilton just left me out by mistake. But through the process of amendment, interpretation, and court decision, I have ﬁnally been included in ‘‘We, the people.’’ Today I am an inquisitor. An hyperbole would not be ﬁctional and would not overstate the solemnness that I feel right now. My faith in the Constitution is whole; it is complete; it is total. And I am not going to sit here and be an idle spectator to the diminution, the subversion, the destruction, of the Constitution. ‘‘Who can so properly be the inquisitors for the nation as the representatives of the nation themselves?’’ ‘‘The subjects of its jurisdiction are those offenses which proceed from the misconduct of public men.’’ And that’s what we’re talking about. In other words, [the jurisdiction comes] from the abuse or violation of some public trust. It is wrong, I suggest, it is a misreading of the Constitution for any member here to assert that for a member to vote for an article of impeachment means that that member must be convinced that the President should be removed from ofﬁce. The Constitution doesn’t say that. The powers relating to impeachment are an essential check in the hands of the body of the legislature against and upon the encroachments of the executive. The division between the two branches of the legislature, the House and the Senate, assigning to the one the right to accuse and to the other the right to judge, the framers of this Constitution were very astute. They did not make the accusers and the judgers—and the judges the same person. We know the nature of impeachment. We’ve been talking about it awhile now. It is chieﬂy designed for the President and his high ministers to somehow be called into account. It is designed to ‘‘bridle’’ the executive if he engages in excesses. ‘‘It is designed as a method of national inquest into the conduct of public men.’’ The framers conﬁded in the Congress the power if need be, to remove the President in order to strike a delicate balance between a President swollen with power and grown tyrannical, and preservation of the independence of the executive. The nature of impeachment: a narrowly channeled exception to the separationof-powers maxim. The Federal Convention of 1787 said that. It limited impeachment to high crimes and misdemeanors and discounted and opposed the term ‘‘maladministration.’’ ‘‘It is to be used only for great misdemeanors,’’ so it was said in the North Carolina ratiﬁcation convention. And in the Virginia ratiﬁcation convention: ‘‘We do not trust our liberty to a particular branch. We need one branch to check the other.’’ ‘‘No one need be afraid’’—the North Carolina ratiﬁcation convention—‘‘No one need be afraid that ofﬁcers who commit oppression will pass with immunity.’’

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‘‘Prosecutions of impeachments will seldom fail to agitate the passions of the whole community,’’ said Hamilton in the Federalist Papers, number 65. ‘‘We divide into parties more or less friendly or inimical to the accused.’’ I do not mean political parties in that sense. The drawing of political lines goes to the motivation behind impeachment; but impeachment must proceed within the conﬁnes of the constitutional term ‘‘high crime[s] and misdemeanors.’’ Of the impeachment process, it was Woodrow Wilson who said that ‘‘Nothing short of the grossest offenses against the plain law of the land will sufﬁce to give them speed and effectiveness. Indignation so great as to overgrow party interest may secure a conviction; but nothing else can.’’ Common sense would be revolted if we engaged upon this process for petty reasons. Congress has a lot to do: Appropriations, Tax Reform, Health Insurance, Campaign Finance Reform, Housing, Environmental Protection, Energy Sufﬁciency, Mass Transportation. Pettiness cannot be allowed to stand in the face of such overwhelming problems. So today we are not being petty. We are trying to be big, because the task we have before us is a big one. This morning, in a discussion of the evidence, we were told that the evidence which purports to support the allegations of misuse of the CIA by the President is thin. We’re told that that evidence is insufﬁcient. What that recital of the evidence this morning did not include is what the President did know on June the 23rd, 1972. The President did know that it was Republican money, that it was money from the Committee for the Re-Election of the President, which was found in the possession of one of the burglars arrested on June the 17th. What the President did know on the 23rd of June was the prior activities of E. Howard Hunt, which included his participation in the break-in of Daniel Ellsberg’s psychiatrist, which included Howard Hunt’s participation in the Dita Beard ITT affair, which included Howard Hunt’s fabrication of cables designed to discredit the Kennedy Administration. We were further cautioned today that perhaps these proceedings ought to be delayed because certainly there would be new evidence forthcoming from the President of the United States. There has not even been an obfuscated indication that this committee would receive any additional materials from the President. The committee subpoena is outstanding, and if the President wants to supply that material, the committee sits here. The fact is that on yesterday, the American people waited with great anxiety for eight hours, not knowing whether their President would obey an order of the Supreme Court of the United States. At this point, I would like to juxtapose a few of the impeachment criteria with some of the actions the President has engaged in. Impeachment criteria: James Madison, from the Virginia ratiﬁcation convention. ‘‘If the President be connected in any suspicious manner with any person and there be grounds to believe that he will shelter him, he may be impeached.’’ We have heard time and time again that the evidence reﬂects the payment to defendants money. The President had knowledge that these funds were being paid and these were funds collected for the 1972 presidential campaign. We know that the President met with Mr. Henry Petersen 27 times to discuss matters related to Watergate, and immediately thereafter met with the very persons who were implicated in the information Mr. Petersen was receiving. The words are: ‘‘If the President is connected in any suspicious manner with any person and there be grounds to believe that he will shelter that person, he may be impeached.’’

126. 1976 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, July 12, 1976

Justice Story: ‘‘Impeachment’’ is attended—‘‘is intended for occasional and extraordinary cases where a superior power acting for the whole people is put into operation to protect their rights and rescue their liberties from violations.’’ We know about the Huston plan. We know about the break-in of the psychiatrist’s ofﬁce. We know that there was absolute complete direction on September 3rd when the President indicated that a surreptitious entry had been made in Dr. Fielding’s ofﬁce, after having met with Mr. Ehrlichman and Mr. Young. ‘‘Protect their rights.’’ ‘‘Rescue their liberties from violation.’’ The Carolina ratiﬁcation convention impeachment criteria: those are impeachable ‘‘who behave amiss or betray their public trust.’’ Beginning shortly after the Watergate break-in and continuing to the present time, the President has engaged in a series of public statements and actions designed to thwart the lawful investigation by government prosecutors. Moreover, the President has made public announcements and assertions bearing on the Watergate case, which the evidence will show he knew to be false. These assertions, false assertions, impeachable, those who misbehave. Those who ‘‘behave amiss or betray the public trust.’’ James Madison again at the Constitutional Convention: ‘‘A President is impeachable if he attempts to subvert the Constitution.’’ The Constitution charges the President with the task of taking care that the laws be faithfully executed, and yet the President has counseled his aides to commit perjury, willfully disregard the secrecy of grand jury proceedings, conceal surreptitious entry, attempt to compromise a federal judge, while publicly displaying his cooperation with the processes of criminal justice. ‘‘A President is impeachable if he attempts to subvert the Constitution.’’ If the impeachment provision in the Constitution of the United States will not reach the offenses charged here, then perhaps that 18th-century Constitution should be abandoned to a 20th-century paper shredder. Has the President committed offenses, and planned, and directed, and acquiesced in a course of conduct which the Constitution will not tolerate? That’s the question. We know that. We know the question. We should now forthwith proceed to answer the question. It is reason, and not passion, which must guide our deliberations, guide our debate, and guide our decision. I yield back the balance of my time, Mr. Chairman. Source: Delivered July 25, 1974, House Judiciary Committee. Courtesy of the Barbara Jordan Estate. Speech retrieved from AmericanRhetoric.com.

126. 1976 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, July 12, 1976 BARBARA CHARLINE JORDAN Congresswoman Barbara Jordan gave the keynote address at the 1976 Democratic National Committee convention, the same year that the United States was celebrating its 200th anniversary. It was one hundred and forty-four years ago that members of the Democratic Party ﬁrst met in convention to select a Presidential candidate. Since that time, Democrats have continued to convene once every four years and draft a party platform and nominate a Presidential candidate. And our meeting this week is a

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continuation of that tradition. But there is something different about tonight. There is something special about tonight. What is different? What is special? I, Barbara Jordan, am a keynote speaker. When—A lot of years passed since 1832, and during that time it would have been most unusual for any national political party to ask a Barbara Jordan to deliver a keynote address. But tonight, here I am. And I feel—I feel that notwithstanding the past that my presence here is one additional bit of evidence that the American Dream need not forever be deferred. Now—Now that I have this grand distinction, what in the world am I supposed to say? I could easily spend this time praising the accomplishments of this party and attacking the Republicans—but I don’t choose to do that. I could list the many problems which Americans have. I could list the problems which cause people to feel cynical, angry, frustrated: problems which include lack of integrity in government; the feeling that the individual no longer counts; the reality of material and spiritual poverty; the feeling that the grand American experiment is failing or has failed. I could recite these problems, and then I could sit down and offer no solutions. But I don’t choose to do that either. The citizens of America expect more. They deserve and they want more than a recital of problems. We are a people in a quandary about the present. We are a people in search of our future. We are a people in search of a national community. We are a people trying not only to solve the problems of the present, unemployment, inﬂation, but we are attempting on a larger scale to fulﬁll the promise of America. We are attempting to fulﬁll our national purpose, to create and sustain a society in which all of us are equal. Throughout—Throughout our history, when people have looked for new ways to solve their problems and to uphold the principles of this nation, many times they have turned to political parties. They have often turned to the Democratic Party. What is it? What is it about the Democratic Party that makes it the instrument the people use when they search for ways to shape their future? Well I believe the answer to that question lies in our concept of governing. Our concept of governing is derived from our view of people. It is a concept deeply rooted in a set of beliefs ﬁrmly etched in the national conscience of all of us. Now what are these beliefs? First, we believe in equality for all and privileges for none. This is a belief—This is a belief that each American, regardless of background, has equal standing in the public forum—all of us. Because—Because we believe this idea so ﬁrmly, we are an inclusive rather than an exclusive party. Let everybody come. I think it no accident that most of those immigrating to America in the 19th century identiﬁed with the Democratic Party. We are a heterogeneous party made up of Americans of diverse backgrounds. We believe that the people are the source of all governmental power; that the authority of the people is to be extended, not restricted. This—This can be accomplished only by providing each citizen with every opportunity to participate in the management of the government. They must have that, we believe. We believe that the government which represents the authority of all the people, not just one interest group, but all the people, has an obligation to actively—underscore actively—seek to remove those obstacles which would block individual achievement—obstacles emanating from race, sex, economic condition. The government must remove them, seek to remove them.

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We are a party—We are a party of innovation. We do not reject our traditions, but we are willing to adapt to changing circumstances, when change we must. We are willing to suffer the discomfort of change in order to achieve a better future. We have a positive vision of the future founded on the belief that the gap between the promise and reality of America can one day be ﬁnally closed. We believe that. This, my friends is the bedrock of our concept of governing. This is a part of the reason why Americans have turned to the Democratic Party. These are the foundations upon which a national community can be built. Let all understand that these guiding principles cannot be discarded for short-term political gains. They represent what this country is all about. They are indigenous to the American idea. And these are principles which are not negotiable. In other times—In other times, I could stand here and give this kind of exposition on the beliefs of the Democratic Party and that would be enough. But today that is not enough. People want more. That is not sufﬁcient reason for the majority of the people of this country to decide to vote Democratic. We have made mistakes. We realize that. We admit our mistakes. In our haste to do all things for all people, we did not foresee the full consequences of our actions. And when the people raised their voices, we didn’t hear. But our deafness was only a temporary condition, and not an irreversible condition. Even as I stand here and admit that we have made mistakes, I still believe that as the people of America sit in judgment on each party, they will recognize that our mistakes were mistakes of the heart. They’ll recognize that. And now—now we must look to the future. Let us heed the voice of the people and recognize their common sense. If we do not, we not only blaspheme our political heritage, we ignore the common ties that bind all Americans. Many fear the future. Many are distrustful of their leaders, and believe that their voices are never heard. Many seek only to satisfy their private work to satisfy their private interests. But this is the great danger America faces—that we will cease to be one nation and become instead a collection of interest groups: city against suburb, region against region, individual against individual; each seeking to satisfy private wants. If that happens, who then will speak for America? Who then will speak for the common good? This is the question which must be answered in 1976: Are we to be one people bound together by common spirit, sharing in a common endeavor; or will we become a divided nation? For all of its uncertainty, we cannot ﬂee the future. We must not become the ‘‘New Puritans’’ and reject our society. We must address and master the future together. It can be done if we restore the belief that we share a sense of national community, that we share a common national endeavor. It can be done. There is no executive order; there is no law that can require the American people to form a national community. This we must do as individuals, and if we do it as individuals, there is no President of the United States who can veto that decision. As a ﬁrst step—As a ﬁrst step, we must restore our belief in ourselves. We are a generous people, so why can’t we be generous with each other? We need to take to heart the words spoken by Thomas Jefferson: Let us restore the social intercourse—‘‘Let us restore to social intercourse that harmony and that affection without which liberty and even life are but dreary things.’’ A nation is formed by the willingness of each of us to share in the responsibility for upholding the common good. A government is invigorated when each one of us is

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willing to participate in shaping the future of this nation. In this election year, we must deﬁne the ‘‘common good’’ and begin again to shape a common future. Let each person do his or her part. If one citizen is unwilling to participate, all of us are going to suffer. For the American idea, though it is shared by all of us, is realized in each one of us. And now, what are those of us who are elected public ofﬁcials supposed to do? We call ourselves ‘‘public servants’’ but I’ll tell you this: We as public servants must set an example for the rest of the nation. It is hypocritical for the public ofﬁcial to admonish and exhort the people to uphold the common good if we are derelict in upholding the common good. More is required—More is required of public ofﬁcials than slogans and handshakes and press releases. More is required. We must hold ourselves strictly accountable. We must provide the people with a vision of the future. If we promise as public ofﬁcials, we must deliver. If—If we as public ofﬁcials propose, we must produce. If we say to the American people, ‘‘It is time for you to be sacriﬁcial’’—sacriﬁce. If the public ofﬁcial says that, we [public ofﬁcials] must be the ﬁrst to give. We must be. And again, if we make mistakes, we must be willing to admit them. We have to do that. What we have to do is strike a balance between the idea that government should do everything and the idea, the belief, that government ought to do nothing. Strike a balance. Let there be no illusions about the difﬁculty of forming this kind of a national community. It’s tough, difﬁcult, not easy. But a spirit of harmony will survive in America only if each of us remembers that we share a common destiny; if each of us remembers, when self-interest and bitterness seem to prevail, that we share a common destiny. I have conﬁdence that we can form this kind of national community. I have conﬁdence that the Democratic Party can lead the way. I have that conﬁdence. We cannot improve on the system of government handed down to us by the founders of the Republic. There is no way to improve upon that. But what we can do is to ﬁnd new ways to implement that system and realize our destiny. Now I began this speech by commenting to you on the uniqueness of a Barbara Jordan making a keynote address. Well I am going to close my speech by quoting a Republican President and I ask you that as you listen to these words of Abraham Lincoln, relate them to the concept of a national community in which every last one of us participates: ‘‘As I would not be a slave, so I would not be a master.’’ This—This—‘‘This expresses my idea of Democracy. Whatever differs from this, to the extent of the difference, is no Democracy.’’ Source: Delivered July 12, 1976, New York, NY. Courtesy of the Barbara Jordan Estate. Speech retrieved from AmericanRhetoric.com.

127. Q & A with Singer Alberta Hunter, by talk show host Dick Cavett, 1978 Alberta Hunter was a famous jazz singer. Talk show host Dick Cavett was an icon of television in the 1970s and became well known for his interview technique which often solicited details about his guests never known or revealed to the general public before. In this instance, he talks to Hunter about her life in jazz.

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C = Dick Cavett H = Alberta Hunter C You know the old Latin saying: art is long, life is short, well for some lucky performers life is long and art is long and the two seem to keep regenerating each other from year to year. That is certainly the case with the great Alberta Hunter. She came up in the 1920s with the likes of Bessie Smith and Louie Armstrong and Josephine Baker. In the intervening years there were club dates and recordings and Broadway and London and Paris, and a really rich career. She has a million stories about all that, of course. There was a brief pause of 20 years or so during which she was retired from show business and was a nurse. But with the help of a jazz impresario named Barnie Josephson, she came to her senses and a couple of seasons ago she made a triumphant comeback at Mr. Josephson’s club in Greenwich Village called the Cookery. A line in one of Alberta Hunter’s songs seemed to say it all, there are plenty of good tunes left in a old violin. There’s a honey in there; there’s plenty of good tunes, honey, left in an old violin, there that sounds better. Anyway to show you what she means, here she is singing a bit of her theme, accompanied by Gerald Cook, at the piano, Erin Bell on Bass. H ‘‘Woke up some night, my castle’s rockin, you can blow your top, everything’s free.… top ﬂoor the third door to the rear, that’s where you’ll always ﬁnd me. Stuff is there, the chick’s.… Don’t worry about a thing because I’m laying it on the line for protection, tell it Oh, come on up, bring your friends and we’ll start that ball a rolling, my castle’s rockin run on by and see. Yeh.’’ Thank you. Now a song I wrote for Robert Altman’s new picture, Remember My Name, starring Geraldine Chaplin and Tony Perkins. The title of the picture is Remember My Name and the title of the song is The Love I Have for You. I never fret, or worry, no time am I blue. I spend my days rejoicing because of the love that I have for you. The love I have for you makes my burdens light. The’ love I have for you makes my blue days bright. Asleep or awake, dear, your face I see. Sunshine of your smile is a guide for me. The love I have for you is within my heart. The love I have for you is a thing set apart. You can search and search again from end to end through and through. You’ll never ﬁnd a love like the love I have for you. The love I have for you is within my heart.

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The love I have for you is a thing set apart. You can search the universe, but my dear if you do you’ll never ﬁnd a love like the love I have for you. C

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Alberta, last time we were here you talked about a legendary place that you played. I think it was in Chicago, called Dreamland. Research uncovers the fact that you made $17.50. Now that is not a living wage even then. Well the ﬁrst time was $10; then they raised me to $12. 50 But there was another way of making money, wasn’t there? Yeh, you know what I used to do? The tips, they’d give us tips you know. I had a little bargain with the waiters and every time somebody would give me a tip I’d put it in my hand and when I would start to move to the other table I would drop it down into my bosoom and let it fall. Another thing I used to do, if the people wanted to hear what I was singing at the next table, see I would sing softly, and if the people at the next table would want to hear what I was doing, they’d have to call me over and give me a tip. So each table I’d go to Id get a tip, you see? I see, you’d sing softly and then if you saw a bill waving Didn’t have to wave it, all they had to do was to look over and I ﬁgures they wanted me to come. And I’d go get that tip. Is it too personal to ask how much you could make on a night like that in those days with on a good night. You want me to tell you the truth. Sometimes I made as high as $100. Those days. Because in Chicago most of the people that hung out there in Dreamland were the gamblers, and the pimps, and the prostitutes., and they all had a lot of money and they were crazy about a song called Melancholy Baby. I used to sing it. I knew the ones in black liked Melancholy Baby the best. You mean it really is true that people yelled sing Melancholy Baby. Yes. Melancholy Baby, and I’d lay it on them. I could see the ones that were anxious, that wanted Melancholy Baby. When I was singing to you for instance, I’d be looking out of the corner of my eye to see who else wanted it. Alberta, what’s the story about you and Sophie Tucker the great white comedian, entertainer, for our younger viewers who may not know who Sophie Tucker was. There is a story where she wanted (to perform a song called) A Good Man is Hard to Find. She wanted to do it the way you did it. Can you tell us what that means and what that was about? Well, she used to come in the club where I was working. She was a great singer though. Sophie Tucker was marvelous, she was marvelous. She came nearer singing like a colored woman than the rest of them. She was ﬁne. She used to come in the club pretending she was just

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coming to see me, but she was coming to try to steal my tricks, you know, see what I was doing. She said one time, she asked me to come down to the Palace, she was playing at the Palace, cuz she played the big time all the time. I never would go. So she sent her maid, Bell. Sent me a note back to come on down and have lunch with her and everything. Well, I wasn’t hungry at the time so I didn’t go. You really didn’t want her to have your song. No I didn’t want her to have it, what’s the use of me getting together writing a song for somebody else to do. No, so I wouldn’t give up my song. She never would have sung it like I sing it because we have certain little tricks that we do in those songs that nobody’s going to catch on. If I sing it one way now, I’ll sing it another way the next time. That’s what I did to her. You fouled her, ﬁnally. If she was as good as you say, though, could she have been the ﬁrst Jewish blues singer, do you think? I don’t know, but she was a whopping good one. Sophie Tucker could sing a song. You maintain, rightly I’m sure, that not everybody can sing the blues. You can’t just decide to … Sophie, as good as she was, would never sing the blues like a Negro. And that’s not boasting. You see Sophie Tucker hasn’t suffered like we’ve suffered. When we sing the blues our heart is coming to you. Alberta, tell me about this, you left your husband but not for the usual reasons. You seem to still be enjoying having left him. But it was not for what you think. It isn’t that he was a bad man, treating you badly, and so on. No, none of them going to treat me bad, honey, I’m too strict for that. Nobody’s going to treat me bad. Well, what I heard was that you left him for the unheard of reason of so that he could ﬁnd a better woman. That’s right. That bears explaining. Well, I’ll tell you what. My husband was a very intelligent young man. I could see the making of a very nice young man and he needed a wife that would give him attention. It would have been selﬁsh of me to have stayed with him and not given him the nice things that he deserved. So, you know what I did. While I was working at Dreamland I’d be singing at night and my mind would be working. I’d say well I’m going to get together tonight. So Id put my tips in a little bag and go down the next morning to the immigration place and I was getting my passport ready. So one night when my husband thought I was going home I was on my way down to the peer. I went to Europe. He didn’t know where I was. You decided Europe would be the last place he’d look for you, I guess.

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The last place he could get to right then. You didn’t leave a note or anything? No. Absolutely nothing. You know why, because maybe had I left a note he would have known where to have found me and he would have come. He’s a nice young man, he deserved a good wife.

Source: Transcript of interview on Thirteen/WNET television, New York. New York: Daphne Productions, 1978.

128. 1984 Democratic National Convention Address, by Jesse Jackson, July 18, 1984 National civil rights activist and former presidential candidate the Reverend Jesse Jackson accepted the invitation to give the keynote address to the 1984 Democratic National Convention. This is Jackson’s speech. Tonight we come together bound by our faith in a mighty God, with genuine respect and love for our country, and inheriting the legacy of a great Party, the Democratic Party, which is the best hope for redirecting our nation on a more humane, just, and peaceful course. This is not a perfect party. We are not a perfect people. Yet, we are called to a perfect mission. Our mission: to feed the hungry; to clothe the naked; to house the homeless; to teach the illiterate; to provide jobs for the jobless; and to choose the human race over the nuclear race. We are gathered here this week to nominate a candidate and adopt a platform which will expand, unify, direct, and inspire our Party and the nation to fulﬁll this mission. My constituency is the desperate, the damned, the disinherited, the disrespected, and the despised. They are restless and seek relief. They have voted in record numbers. They have invested the faith, hope, and trust that they have in us. The Democratic Party must send them a signal that we care. I pledge my best not to let them down. There is the call of conscience, redemption, expansion, healing, and unity. Leadership must heed the call of conscience, redemption, expansion, healing, and unity, for they are the key to achieving our mission. Time is neutral and does not change things. With courage and initiative, leaders change things. No generation can choose the age or circumstance in which it is born, but through leadership it can choose to make the age in which it is born an age of enlightenment, an age of jobs, and peace, and justice. Only leadership—that intangible combination of gifts, the discipline, information, circumstance, courage, timing, will and divine inspiration—can lead us out of the crisis in which we ﬁnd ourselves. Leadership can mitigate the misery of our nation. Leadership can part the waters and lead our nation in the direction of the Promised Land. Leadership can lift the boats stuck at the bottom. I have had the rare opportunity to watch seven men, and then two, pour out their souls, offer their service, and heal and heed the call of duty to direct the course of our nation. There is a proper season for everything. There is a time to sow and a time to reap. There’s a time to compete and a time to cooperate. I ask for your vote on the ﬁrst ballot as a vote for a new direction for this Party and this nation—a vote of conviction, a vote of conscience. But I will be proud to

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support the nominee of this convention for the Presidency of the United States of America. Thank you. I have watched the leadership of our party develop and grow. My respect for both Mr. Mondale and Mr. Hart is great. I have watched them struggle with the crosswinds and crossﬁres of being public servants, and I believe they will both continue to try to serve us faithfully. I am elated by the knowledge that for the ﬁrst time in our history a woman, Geraldine Ferraro, will be recommended to share our ticket. Throughout this campaign, I’ve tried to offer leadership to the Democratic Party and the nation. If, in my high moments, I have done some good, offered some service, shed some light, healed some wounds, rekindled some hope, or stirred someone from apathy and indifference, or in any way along the way helped somebody, then this campaign has not been in vain. For friends who loved and cared for me, and for a God who spared me, and for a family who understood, I am eternally grateful. If, in my low moments, in word, deed or attitude, through some error of temper, taste, or tone, I have caused anyone discomfort, created pain, or revived someone’s fears, that was not my truest self. If there were occasions when my grape turned into a raisin and my joy bell lost its resonance, please forgive me. Charge it to my head and not to my heart. My head—so limited in its ﬁnitude; my heart, which is boundless in its love for the human family. I am not a perfect servant. I am a public servant doing my best against the odds. As I develop and serve, be patient: God is not ﬁnished with me yet. This campaign has taught me much; that leaders must be tough enough to ﬁght, tender enough to cry, human enough to make mistakes, humble enough to admit them, strong enough to absorb the pain, and resilient enough to bounce back and keep on moving. For leaders, the pain is often intense. But you must smile through your tears and keep moving with the faith that there is a brighter side somewhere. I went to see Hubert Humphrey three days before he died. He had just called Richard Nixon from his dying bed, and many people wondered why. And I asked him. He said, ‘‘Jesse, from this vantage point, the sun is setting in my life, all of the speeches, the political conventions, the crowds, and the great ﬁghts are behind me now. At a time like this you are forced to deal with your irreducible essence, forced to grapple with that which is really important to you. And what I’ve concluded about life,’’ Hubert Humphrey said, ‘‘When all is said and done, we must forgive each other, and redeem each other, and move on.’’ Our party is emerging from one of its most hard fought battles for the Democratic Party’s presidential nomination in our history. But our healthy competition should make us better, not bitter. We must use the insight, wisdom, and experience of the late Hubert Humphrey as a balm for the wounds in our Party, this nation, and the world. We must forgive each other, redeem each other, regroup, and move one. Our ﬂag is red, white and blue, but our nation is a rainbow—red, yellow, brown, black and white—and we’re all precious in God’s sight. America is not like a blanket— one piece of unbroken cloth, the same color, the same texture, the same size. America is more like a quilt: many patches, many pieces, many colors, many sizes, all woven and held together by a common thread. The white, the Hispanic, the black, the Arab, the Jew, the woman, the native American, the small farmer, the businessperson, the environmentalist, the peace activist, the young, the old, the lesbian, the gay, and the disabled make up the American quilt. Even in our fractured state, all of

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us count and ﬁt somewhere. We have proven that we can survive without each other. But we have not proven that we can win and make progress without each other. We must come together. From Fannie Lou Hamer in Atlantic City in 1964 to the Rainbow Coalition in San Francisco today; from the Atlantic to the Paciﬁc, we have experienced pain but progress, as we ended American apartheid laws. We got public accommodations. We secured voting rights. We obtained open housing, as young people got the right to vote. We lost Malcolm, Martin, Medgar, Bobby, John, and Viola. The team that got us here must be expanded, not abandoned. Twenty years ago, tears welled up in our eyes as the bodies of Schwerner, Goodman, and Chaney were dredged from the depths of a river in Mississippi. Twenty years later, our communities, black and Jewish, are in anguish, anger, and pain. Feelings have been hurt on both sides. There is a crisis in communications. Confusion is in the air. But we cannot afford to lose our way. We may agree to agree; or agree to disagree on issues; we must bring back civility to these tensions. We are co-partners in a long and rich religious history—the Judeo-Christian traditions. Many blacks and Jews have a shared passion for social justice at home and peace abroad. We must seek a revival of the spirit, inspired by a new vision and new possibilities. We must return to higher ground. We are bound by Moses and Jesus, but also connected with Islam and Mohammed. These three great religions, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, were all born in the revered and holy city of Jerusalem. We are bound by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Rabbi Abraham Heschel, crying out from their graves for us to reach common ground. We are bound by shared blood and shared sacriﬁces. We are much too intelligent, much too bound by our Judeo-Christian heritage, much too victimized by racism, sexism, militarism, and anti-Semitism, much too threatened as historical scapegoats to go on divided one from another. We must turn from ﬁnger pointing to clasped hands. We must share our burdens and our joys with each other once again. We must turn to each other and not on each other and choose higher ground. Twenty years later, we cannot be satisﬁed by just restoring the old coalition. Old wine skins must make room for new wine. We must heal and expand. The Rainbow Coalition is making room for Arab Americans. They, too, know the pain and hurt of racial and religious rejection. They must not continue to be made pariahs. The Rainbow Coalition is making room for Hispanic Americans who this very night are living under the threat of the Simpson-Mazzoli bill; and farm workers from Ohio who are ﬁghting the Campbell Soup Company with a boycott to achieve legitimate workers’ rights. The Rainbow is making room for the Native American, the most exploited people of all, a people with the greatest moral claim amongst us. We support them as they seek the restoration of their ancient land and claim amongst us. We support them as they seek the restoration of land and water rights, as they seek to preserve their ancestral homeland and the beauty of a land that was once all theirs. They can never receive a fair share for all they have given us. They must ﬁnally have a fair chance to develop their great resources and to preserve their people and their culture. The Rainbow Coalition includes Asian Americans, now being killed in our streets—scapegoats for the failures of corporate, industrial, and economic policies. The Rainbow is making room for the young Americans. Twenty years ago, our young people were dying in a war for which they could not even vote. Twenty years later, young America has the power to stop a war in Central America and the responsibility to vote in great numbers. Young America must be politically

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active in 1984. The choice is war or peace. We must make room for young America. The Rainbow includes disabled veterans. The color scheme ﬁts in the Rainbow. The disabled have their handicap revealed and their genius concealed; while the able-bodied have their genius revealed and their disability concealed. But ultimately, we must judge people by their values and their contribution. Don’t leave anybody out. I would rather have Roosevelt in a wheelchair than Reagan on a horse. The Rainbow is making room for small farmers. They have suffered tremendously under the Reagan regime. They will either receive 90 percent parity or 100 percent charity. We must address their concerns and make room for them. The Rainbow includes lesbians and gays. No American citizen ought be denied equal protection from the law. We must be unusually committed and caring as we expand our family to include new members. All of us must be tolerant and understanding as the fears and anxieties of the rejected and the party leadership express themselves in many different ways. Too often what we call hate—as if it were some deeply-rooted philosophy or strategy—is simply ignorance, anxiety, paranoia, fear, and insecurity. To be strong leaders, we must be long-suffering as we seek to right the wrongs of our Party and our nation. We must expand our Party, heal our Party, and unify our Party. That is our mission in 1984. We are often reminded that we live in a great nation—and we do. But it can be greater still. The Rainbow is mandating a new deﬁnition of greatness. We must not measure greatness from the mansion down, but the manger up. Jesus said that we should not be judged by the bark we wear but by the fruit that we bear. Jesus said that we must measure greatness by how we treat the least of these. President Reagan says the nation is in recovery. Those 90,000 corporations that made a proﬁt last year but paid no federal taxes are recovering. The 37,000 military contractors who have beneﬁted from Reagan’s more than doubling of the military budget in peacetime, surely they are recovering. The big corporations and rich individuals who received the bulk of a three-year, multibillion tax cut from Mr. Reagan are recovering. But no such recovery is under way for the least of these. Rising tides don’t lift all boats, particularly those stuck at the bottom. For the boats stuck at the bottom there’s a misery index. This Administration has made life more miserable for the poor. Its attitude has been contemptuous. Its policies and programs have been cruel and unfair to working people. They must be held accountable in November for increasing infant mortality among the poor. In Detroit one of the great cities of the western world, babies are dying at the same rate as Honduras, the most underdeveloped nation in our hemisphere. This Administration must be held accountable for policies that have contributed to the growing poverty in America. There are now 34 million people in poverty, 15 percent of our nation. 23 million are White; 11 million Black, Hispanic, Asian, and others—mostly women and children. By the end of this year, there will be 41 million people in poverty. We cannot stand idly by. We must ﬁght for a change now. Under this regime we look at Social Security. The ‘81 budget cuts included nine permanent Social Security beneﬁt cuts totaling 20 billion over ﬁve years. Small businesses have suffered under Reagan tax cuts. Only 18 percent of total business tax cuts went to them; 82 percent to big businesses. Health care under Mr. Reagan has already been sharply cut. Education under Mr. Reagan has been cut 25 percent. Under Mr. Reagan there are now 9.7 million female head families. They represent 16 percent of all families. Half of all of them are poor. 70 percent of all poor children live in a house headed by a woman, where there is no

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man. Under Mr. Reagan, the Administration has cleaned up only 6 of 546 priority toxic waste dumps. Farmers’ real net income was only about half its level in 1979. Many say that the race in November will be decided in the South. President Reagan is depending on the conservative South to return him to ofﬁce. But the South, I tell you, is unnaturally conservative. The South is the poorest region in our nation and, therefore, [has] the least to conserve. In his appeal to the South, Mr. Reagan is trying to substitute ﬂags and prayer cloths for food, and clothing, and education, health care, and housing. Mr. Reagan will ask us to pray, and I believe in prayer. I have come to this way by the power of prayer. But then, we must watch false prophecy. He cuts energy assistance to the poor, cuts breakfast programs from children, cuts lunch programs from children, cuts job training from children, and then says to an empty table, ‘‘Let us pray.’’ Apparently, he is not familiar with the structure of a prayer. You thank the Lord for the food that you are about to receive, not the food that just left. I think that we should pray, but don’t pray for the food that left. Pray for the man that took the food to leave. We need a change. We need a change in November. Under Mr. Reagan, the misery index has risen for the poor. The danger index has risen for everybody. Under this administration, we’ve lost the lives of our boys in Central America and Honduras, in Grenada, in Lebanon, in nuclear standoff in Europe. Under this Administration, one-third of our children believe they will die in a nuclear war. The danger index is increasing in this world. All the talk about the defense against Russia; the Russian submarines are closer, and their missiles are more accurate. We live in a world tonight more miserable and a world more dangerous. While Reaganomics and Reaganism is talked about often, so often we miss the real meaning. Reaganism is a spirit, and Reaganomics represents the real economic facts of life. In 1980, Mr. George Bush, a man with reasonable access to Mr. Reagan, did an analysis of Mr. Reagan’s economic plan. Mr. George Bush concluded that Reagan’s plan was ‘‘voodoo economics.’’ He was right. Third-party candidate John Anderson said ‘‘a combination of military spending, tax cuts, and a balanced budget by ‘84 would be accomplished with blue smoke and mirrors.’’ They were both right. Mr. Reagan talks about a dynamic recovery. There’s some measure of recovery. Three and a half years later, unemployment has inched just below where it was when he took ofﬁce in 1981. There are still 8.1 million people ofﬁcially unemployed; 11 million working only part-time. Inﬂation has come down, but let’s analyze for a moment who has paid the price for this superﬁcial economic recovery. Mr. Reagan curbed inﬂation by cutting consumer demand. He cut consumer demand with conscious and callous ﬁscal and monetary policies. He used the Federal budget to deliberately induce unemployment and curb social spending. He then weighed and supported tight monetary policies of the Federal Reserve Board to deliberately drive up interest rates, again to curb consumer demand created through borrowing. Unemployment reached 10.7 percent. We experienced skyrocketing interest rates. Our dollar inﬂated abroad. There were record bank failures, record farm foreclosures, record business bankruptcies; record budget deﬁcits, record trade deﬁcits. Mr. Reagan brought inﬂation down by destabilizing our economy and disrupting family life. He promised—he promised in 1980 a balanced budget. But instead we now have a record 200 billion dollar budget deﬁcit. Under Mr. Reagan, the cumulative budget deﬁcit for his four years is more than the sum total of deﬁcits from George Washington to Jimmy Carter combined. I tell you, we need a change.

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How is he paying for these short-term jobs? Reagan’s economic recovery is being ﬁnanced by deﬁcit spending—200 billion dollars a year. Military spending, a major cause of this deﬁcit, is projected over the next ﬁve years to be nearly 2 trillion dollars, and will cost about 40,000 dollars for every taxpaying family. When the Government borrows 200 billion dollars annually to ﬁnance the deﬁcit, this encourages the private sector to make its money off of interest rates as opposed to development and economic growth. Even money abroad, we don’t have enough money domestically to ﬁnance the debt, so we are now borrowing money abroad, from foreign banks, governments and ﬁnancial institutions: 40 billion dollars in 1983; 70–80 billion dollars in 1984–40 percent of our total; over 100 billion dollars—50 percent of our total—in 1985. By 1989, it is projected that 50 percent of all individual income taxes will be going just to pay for interest on that debt. The United States used to be the largest exporter of capital, but under Mr. Reagan we will quite likely become the largest debtor nation. About two weeks ago, on July the 4th, we celebrated our Declaration of Independence, yet every day supply-side economics is making our nation more economically dependent and less economically free. Five to six percent of our Gross National Product is now being eaten up with President Reagan’s budget deﬁcits. To depend on foreign military powers to protect our national security would be foolish, making us dependent and less secure. Yet, Reaganomics has us increasingly dependent on foreign economic sources. This consumer-led but deﬁcitﬁnanced recovery is unbalanced and artiﬁcial. We have a challenge as Democrats to point a way out. Democracy guarantees opportunity, not success. Democracy guarantees the right to participate, not a license for either a majority or a minority to dominate. The victory for the Rainbow Coalition in the Platform debates today was not whether we won or lost, but that we raised the right issues. We could afford to lose the vote; issues are non-negotiable. We could not afford to avoid raising the right questions. Our self-respect and our moral integrity were at stake. Our heads are perhaps bloody, but not bowed. Our back is straight. We can go home and face our people. Our vision is clear. When we think, on this journey from slave-ship to championship, that we have gone from the planks of the Boardwalk in Atlantic City in 1964 to ﬁghting to help write the planks in the platform in San Francisco in ‘84, there is a deep and abiding sense of joy in our souls in spite of the tears in our eyes. Though there are missing planks, there is a solid foundation upon which to build. Our party can win, but we must provide hope which will inspire people to struggle and achieve; provide a plan that shows a way out of our dilemma and then lead the way. In 1984, my heart is made to feel glad because I know there is a way out—justice. The requirement for rebuilding America is justice. The linchpin of progressive politics in our nation will not come from the North; they, in fact, will come from the South. That is why I argue over and over again. We look from Virginia around to Texas, there’s only one black Congressperson out of 115. Nineteen years later, we’re locked out of the Congress, the Senate and the Governor’s mansion. What does this large black vote mean? Why do I ﬁght to win second primaries and ﬁght gerrymandering and annexation and at-large [elections]. Why do we ﬁght over that? Because I tell you, you cannot hold someone in the ditch unless you linger there with them. Unless you linger there. If you want a change in this nation, you enforce that Voting Rights Act. We’ll get 12 to 20 Black, Hispanics, female and progressive congresspersons from

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the South. We can save the cotton, but we’ve got to ﬁght the boll weevils. We’ve got to make a judgment. We’ve got to make a judgment. It is not enough to hope ERA will pass. How can we pass ERA? If Blacks vote in great numbers, progressive Whites win. It’s the only way progressive Whites win. If Blacks vote in great numbers, Hispanics win. When Blacks, Hispanics, and progressive Whites vote, women win. When women win, children win. When women and children win, workers win. We must all come up together. We must come up together. Thank you. For all of our joy and excitement, we must not save the world and lose our souls. We should never short-circuit enforcing the Voting Rights Act at every level. When one of us rise[s], all of us will rise. Justice is the way out. Peace is the way out. We should not act as if nuclear weaponry is negotiable and debatable. In this world in which we live, we dropped the bomb on Japan and felt guilty, but in 1984 other folks [have] also got bombs. This time, if we drop the bomb, six minutes later we, too, will be destroyed. It’s not about dropping the bomb on somebody. It is about dropping the bomb on everybody. We must choose to develop minds over guided missiles, and think it out and not ﬁght it out. It’s time for a change. Our foreign policy must be characterized by mutual respect, not by gunboat diplomacy, big stick diplomacy, and threats. Our nation at its best feeds the hungry. Our nation at its worst, at its worst, will mine the harbors of Nicaragua, at its worst will try to overthrow their government, at its worst will cut aid to American education and increase the aid to El Salvador; at its worst, our nation will have partnerships with South Africa. That’s a moral disgrace. It’s a moral disgrace. It’s a moral disgrace. We look at Africa. We cannot just focus on Apartheid in Southern Africa. We must ﬁght for trade with Africa, and not just aid to Africa. We cannot stand idly by and say we will not relate to Nicaragua unless they have elections there, and then embrace military regimes in Africa overthrowing democratic governments in Nigeria and Liberia and Ghana. We must ﬁght for democracy all around the world and play the game by one set of rules. Peace in this world. Our present formula for peace in the Middle East is inadequate. It will not work. There are 22 nations in the Middle East. Our nation must be able to talk and act and inﬂuence all of them. We must build upon Camp David, and measure human rights by one yard stick. In that region we have too many interests and too few friends. There is a way out—jobs. Put America back to work. When I was a child growing up in Greenville, South Carolina, the Reverend Sample used to preach every so often a sermon relating to Jesus. And he said, ‘‘If I be lifted up, I’ll draw all men unto me.’’ I didn’t quite understand what he meant as a child growing up, but I understand a little better now. If you raise up truth, it’s magnetic. It has a way of drawing people. With all this confusion in this Convention, the bright lights and parties and big fun, we must raise up the simple proposition: If we lift up a program to feed the hungry, they’ll come running; if we lift up a program to study war no more, our youth will come running; if we lift up a program to put America back to work, and an alternative to welfare and despair, they will come working. If we cut that military budget without cutting our defense, and use that money to rebuild bridges and put steel workers back to work, and use that money and provide jobs for our cities, and use that money to build schools and pay teachers and educate our children and build hospitals and train doctors and train nurses, the whole nation will come running to us. As I leave you now, we vote in this convention and get ready to go back across this nation in a couple of days. In this campaign, I’ve tried

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to be faithful to my promise. I lived in old barrios, ghettos, and reservations and housing projects. I have a message for our youth. I challenge them to put hope in their brains and not dope in their veins. I told them that like Jesus, I, too, was born in the slum. But just because you’re born in the slum does not mean the slum is born in you, and you can rise above it if your mind is made up. I told them in every slum there are two sides. When I see a broken window—that’s the slummy side. Train some youth to become a glazier—that’s the sunny side. When I see a missing brick—that’s the slummy side. Let that child in the union and become a brick mason and build— that’s the sunny side. When I see a missing door—that’s the slummy side. Train some youth to become a carpenter—that’s the sunny side. And when I see the vulgar words and hieroglyphics of destitution on the walls—that’s the slummy side. Train some youth to become a painter, an artist—that’s the sunny side. We leave this place looking for the sunny side because there’s a brighter side somewhere. I’m more convinced than ever that we can win. We will vault up the rough side of the mountain. We can win. I just want young America to do me one favor, just one favor. Exercise the right to dream. You must face reality—that which is. But then dream of a reality that ought to be—that must be. Live beyond the pain of reality with the dream of a bright tomorrow. Use hope and imagination as weapons of survival and progress. Use love to motivate you and obligate you to serve the human family. Young America, dream. Choose the human race over the nuclear race. Bury the weapons and don’t burn the people. Dream—dream of a new value system. Teachers who teach for life and not just for a living; teach because they can’t help it. Dream of lawyers more concerned about justice than a judgeship. Dream of doctors more concerned about public health than personal wealth. Dream of preachers and priests who will prophesy and not just proﬁteer. Preach and dream! Our time has come. Our time has come. Suffering breeds character. Character breeds faith. In the end, faith will not disappoint. Our time has come. Our faith, hope, and dreams will prevail. Our time has come. Weeping has endured for nights, but now joy cometh in the morning. Our time has come. No grave can hold our body down. Our time has come. No lie can live forever. Our time has come. We must leave racial battle ground and come to economic common ground and moral higher ground. America, our time has come. We come from disgrace to amazing grace. Our time has come. Give me your tired, give me your poor, your huddled masses who yearn to breathe free and come November, there will be a change because our time has come. Source: Delivered July 18, 1984, San Francisco, CA. Retrieved from AmericanRhetoric.com

129. 1988 Democratic National Convention Address, by Jesse Jackson, July 19, 1988 In 1988, the Reverend Jesse Jackson gave this powerful speech before the presidential nominating convention of the Democratic National Convention. Tonight, we pause and give praise and honor to God for being good enough to allow us to be at this place at this time. When I look out at this convention, I see the face of America: Red, Yellow, Brown, Black and White. We are all precious in God’s sight—the real rainbow coalition.

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All of us—all of us who are here think that we are seated. But we’re really standing on someone’s shoulders. Ladies and gentlemen, Mrs. Rosa Parks—the mother of the civil rights movement. [Mrs. Rosa Parks is brought to the podium.] I want to express my deep love and appreciation for the support my family has given me over these past months. They have endured pain, anxiety, threat, and fear. But they have been strengthened and made secure by our faith in God, in America, and in you. Your love has protected us and made us strong. To my wife Jackie, the foundation of our family; to our ﬁve children whom you met tonight; to my mother, Mrs. Helen Jackson, who is present tonight; and to our grandmother, Mrs. Matilda Burns; to my brother Chuck and his family; to my mother-in-law, Mrs. Gertrude Brown, who just last month at age 61 graduated from Hampton Institute—a marvelous achievement. I offer my appreciation to Mayor Andrew Young who has provided such gracious hospitality to all of us this week. And a special salute to President Jimmy Carter. President Carter restored honor to the White House after Watergate. He gave many of us a special opportunity to grow. For his kind words, for his unwavering commitment to peace in the world, and for the voters that came from his family, every member of his family, led by Billy and Amy, I offer my special thanks to the Carter family. My right and my privilege to stand here before you has been won, won in my lifetime, by the blood and the sweat of the innocent. Twenty-four years ago, the late Fannie Lou Hamer and Aaron Henry—who sits here tonight from Mississippi—were locked out onto the streets in Atlantic City; the head of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party. But tonight, a Black and White delegation from Mississippi is headed by Ed Cole, a Black man from Mississippi; twenty-four years later. Many were lost in the struggle for the right to vote: Jimmy Lee Jackso, a young student, gave his life; Viola Liuzzo, a white mother from Detroit, called ‘‘nigger lover,’’ and brains blown out at point blank range; [Michael] Schwerner, [Andrew] Goodman and [James] Chaney—two Jews and a Black—found in a common grave, bodies riddled with bullets in Mississippi; the four darling little girls in a church in Birmingham, Alabama. They died that we might have a right to live. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. lies only a few miles from us tonight. Tonight he must feel good as he looks down upon us. We sit here together, a rainbow, a coalition— the sons and daughters of slavemasters and the sons and daughters of slaves, sitting together around a common table, to decide the direction of our party and our country. His heart would be full tonight. As a testament to the struggles of those who have gone before; as a legacy for those who will come after; as a tribute to the endurance, the patience, the courage of our forefathers and mothers; as an assurance that their prayers are being answered, that their work has not been in vain, and, that hope is eternal, tomorrow night my name will go into nomination for the Presidency of the United States of America. We meet tonight at the crossroads, a point of decision. Shall we expand, be inclusive, ﬁnd unity and power; or suffer division and impotence? We’ve come to Atlanta, the cradle of the Old South, the crucible of the New South. Tonight, there is a sense of celebration, because we are moved,

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fundamentally moved from racial battlegrounds by law, to economic common ground. Tomorrow we’ll challenge to move to higher ground. Common ground. Think of Jerusalem, the intersection where many trails met. A small village that became the birthplace for three great religions—Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Why was this village so blessed? Because it provided a crossroads where different people met, different cultures, different civilizations could meet and ﬁnd common ground. When people come together, ﬂowers always ﬂourish—the air is rich with the aroma of a new spring. Take New York, the dynamic metropolis. What makes New York so special? It’s the invitation at the Statue of Liberty, ‘‘Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses who yearn to breathe free.’’ Not restricted to English only. Many people, many cultures, many languages with one thing in common: They yearn to breathe free. Common ground. Tonight in Atlanta, for the ﬁrst time in this century, we convene in the South; a state where Governors once stood in school house doors; where Julian Bond was denied a seat in the State Legislature because of his conscientious objection to the Vietnam War; a city that, through its ﬁve Black Universities, has graduated more black students than any city in the world. Atlanta, now a modern intersection of the New South. Common ground. That’s the challenge of our party tonight—left wing, right wing. Progress will not come through boundless liberalism nor static conservatism, but at the critical mass of mutual survival—not at boundless liberalism nor static conservatism, but at the critical mass of mutual survival. It takes two wings to ﬂy. Whether you’re a hawk or a dove, you’re just a bird living in the same environment, in the same world. The Bible teaches that when lions and lambs lie down together, none will be afraid, and there will be peace in the valley. It sounds impossible. Lions eat lambs. Lambs sensibly ﬂee from lions. Yet even lions and lambs ﬁnd common ground. Why? Because neither lions nor lambs want the forest to catch on ﬁre. Neither lions nor lambs want acid rain to fall. Neither lions nor lambs can survive nuclear war. If lions and lambs can ﬁnd common ground, surely we can as well—as civilized people. The only time that we win is when we come together. In 1960, John Kennedy, the late John Kennedy, beat Richard Nixon by only 112,000 votes—less than one vote per precinct. He won by the margin of our hope. He brought us together. He reached out. He had the courage to defy his advisors and inquire about Dr. King’s jailing in Albany, Georgia. We won by the margin of our hope, inspired by courageous leadership. In 1964, Lyndon Johnson brought both wings together—the thesis, the antithesis, and the creative synthesis—and together we won. In 1976, Jimmy Carter uniﬁed us again, and we won. When do we not come together, we never win. In 1968, the division and despair in July led to our defeat in November. In 1980, rancor in the spring and the summer led to Reagan in the fall. When we divide, we cannot win. We must ﬁnd common ground as the basis for survival and development and change and growth. Today when we debated, differed, deliberated, agreed to agree, agreed to disagree, when we had the good judgment to argue a case and then not self-destruct, George Bush was just a little further away from the White House and a little closer to private life.

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Tonight, I salute Governor Michael Dukakis. He has run—He has run a wellmanaged and a digniﬁed campaign. No matter how tired or how tried, he always resisted the temptation to stoop to demagoguery. I’ve watched a good mind fast at work, with steel nerves, guiding his campaign out of the crowded ﬁeld without appeal to the worst in us. I’ve watched his perspective grow as his environment has expanded. I’ve seen his toughness and tenacity close up. I know his commitment to public service. Mike Dukakis’ parents were a doctor and a teacher; my parents a maid, a beautician, and a janitor. There’s a great gap between Brookline, Massachusetts and Haney Street in the Fieldcrest Village housing projects in Greenville, South Carolina. He studied law; I studied theology. There are differences of religion, region, and race; differences in experiences and perspectives. But the genius of America is that out of the many we become one. Providence has enabled our paths to intersect. His foreparents came to America on immigrant ships; my foreparents came to America on slave ships. But whatever the original ships, we’re in the same boat tonight. Our ships could pass in the night—if we have a false sense of independence—or they could collide and crash. We would lose our passengers. We can seek a high reality and a greater good. Apart, we can drift on the broken pieces of Reagonomics, satisfy our baser instincts, and exploit the fears of our people. At our highest, we can call upon noble instincts and navigate this vessel to safety. The greater good is the common good. As Jesus said, ‘‘Not My will, but Thine be done.’’ It was his way of saying there’s a higher good beyond personal comfort or position. The good of our Nation is at stake. It’s commitment to working men and women, to the poor and the vulnerable, to the many in the world. With so many guided missiles, and so much misguided leadership, the stakes are exceedingly high. Our choice? Full participation in a democratic government, or more abandonment and neglect. And so this night, we choose not a false sense of independence, not our capacity to survive and endure. Tonight we choose interdependency, and our capacity to act and unite for the greater good. Common good is ﬁnding commitment to new priorities to expansion and inclusion. A commitment to expanded participation in the Democratic Party at every level. A commitment to a shared national campaign strategy and involvement at every level. A commitment to new priorities that insure that hope will be kept alive. A common ground commitment to a legislative agenda for empowerment, for the John Conyers bill—universal, on-site, same-day registration everywhere. A commitment to D.C. statehood and empowerment—D.C. deserves statehood. A commitment to economic set-asides, commitment to the Dellums bill for comprehensive sanctions against South Africa. A shared commitment to a common direction. Common ground. Easier said than done. Where do you ﬁnd common ground? At the point of challenge. This campaign has shown that politics need not be marketed by politicians, packaged by pollsters and pundits. Politics can be a moral arena where people come together to ﬁnd common ground. We ﬁnd common ground at the plant gate that closes on workers without notice. We ﬁnd common ground at the farm auction, where a good farmer loses his or her land to bad loans or diminishing markets. Common ground at the school yard where

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teachers cannot get adequate pay, and students cannot get a scholarship, and can’t make a loan. Common ground at the hospital admitting room, where somebody tonight is dying because they cannot afford to go upstairs to a bed that’s empty waiting for someone with insurance to get sick. We are a better nation than that. We must do better. Common ground. What is leadership if not present help in a time of crisis? And so I met you at the point of challenge. In Jay, Maine, where paper workers were striking for fair wages; in Greenville, Iowa, where family farmers struggle for a fair price; in Cleveland, Ohio, where working women seek comparable worth; in McFarland, California, where the children of Hispanic farm workers may be dying from poisoned land, dying in clusters with cancer; in an AIDS hospice in Houston, Texas, where the sick support one another, too often rejected by their own parents and friends. Common ground. America is not a blanket woven from one thread, one color, one cloth. When I was a child growing up in Greenville, South Carolina and grandmamma could not afford a blanket, she didn’t complain and we did not freeze. Instead she took pieces of old cloth—patches, wool, silk, gabardine, crokersack— only patches, barely good enough to wipe off your shoes with. But they didn’t stay that way very long. With sturdy hands and a strong cord, she sewed them together into a quilt, a thing of beauty and power and culture. Now, Democrats, we must build such a quilt. Farmers, you seek fair prices and you are right—but you cannot stand alone. Your patch is not big enough. Workers, you ﬁght for fair wages, you are right—but your patch labor is not big enough. Women, you seek comparable worth and pay equity, you are right—but your patch is not big enough. Women, mothers, who seek Head Start, and day care and prenatal care on the front side of life, relevant jail care and welfare on the back side of life, you are right—but your patch is not big enough. Students, you seek scholarships, you are right—but your patch is not big enough. Blacks and Hispanics, when we ﬁght for civil rights, we are right—but our patch is not big enough. Gays and lesbians, when you ﬁght against discrimination and a cure for AIDS, you are right—but your patch is not big enough. Conservatives and progressives, when you ﬁght for what you believe, right wing, left wing, hawk, dove, you are right from your point of view, but your point of view is not enough. But don’t despair. Be as wise as my grandmamma. Pull the patches and the pieces together, bound by a common thread. When we form a great quilt of unity and common ground, we’ll have the power to bring about health care and housing and jobs and education and hope to our Nation. We, the people, can win. We stand at the end of a long dark night of reaction. We stand tonight united in the commitment to a new direction. For almost eight years we’ve been led by those who view social good coming from private interest, who view public life as a means to increase private wealth. They have been prepared to sacriﬁce the common good of the many to satisfy the private interests and the wealth of a few.

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We believe in a government that’s a tool of our democracy in service to the public, not an instrument of the aristocracy in search of private wealth. We believe in government with the consent of the governed, ‘‘of, for and by the people.’’ We must now emerge into a new day with a new direction. Reaganomics: Based on the belief that the rich had too much money [sic]—too little money and the poor had too much. That’s classic Reaganomics. They believe that the poor had too much money and the rich had too little money,- so they engaged in reverse Robin Hood—took from the poor, gave to the rich, paid for by the middle class. We cannot stand four more years of Reaganomics in any version, in any disguise. How do I document that case? Seven years later, the richest 1 percent of our society pays 20 percent less in taxes. The poorest 10 percent pay 20 percent more: Reaganomics. Reagan gave the rich and the powerful a multibillion-dollar party. Now the party is over. He expects the people to pay for the damage. I take this principal position, convention, let us not raise taxes on the poor and the middle-class, but those who had the party, the rich and the powerful, must pay for the party. I just want to take common sense to high places. We’re spending one hundred and ﬁfty billion dollars a year defending Europe and Japan 43 years after the war is over. We have more troops in Europe tonight than we had seven years ago. Yet the threat of war is ever more remote. Germany and Japan are now creditor nations; that means they’ve got a surplus. We are a debtor nation—means we are in debt. Let them share more of the burden of their own defense. Use some of that money to build decent housing. Use some of that money to educate our children. Use some of that money for long-term health care. Use some of that money to wipe out these slums and put America back to work! I just want to take common sense to high places. If we can bail out Europe and Japan; if we can bail out Continental Bank and Chrysler—and Mr. Iacocca, make [sic] 8,000 dollars an hour—we can bail out the family farmer. I just want to make common sense. It does not make sense to close down six hundred and ﬁfty thousand family farms in this country while importing food from abroad subsidized by the U.S. Government. Let’s make sense. It does not make sense to be escorting all our tankers up and down the Persian Gulf paying $2.50 for every one dollar worth of oil we bring out, while oil wells are capped in Texas, Oklahoma, and Louisiana. I just want to make sense. Leadership must meet the moral challenge of its day. What’s the moral challenge of our day? We have public accommodations. We have the right to vote. We have open housing. What’s the fundamental challenge of our day? It is to end economic violence. Plant closings without notice—economic violence. Even the greedy do not proﬁt long from greed—economic violence. Most poor people are not lazy. They are not black. They are not brown. They are mostly White and female and young. But whether White, Black or Brown, a hungry baby’s belly turned inside out is the same color—color it pain; color it hurt; color it agony. Most poor people are not on welfare. Some of them are illiterate and can’t read the want-ad sections. And when they can, they can’t ﬁnd a job that matches the address. They work hard everyday.

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I know. I live amongst them. I’m one of them. I know they work. I’m a witness. They catch the early bus. They work every day. They raise other people’s children. They work everyday. They clean the streets. They work everyday. They drive dangerous cabs. They work everyday. They change the beds you slept in these hotels last night and can’t get a union contract. They work everyday. No, no, they are not lazy! Someone must defend them because it’s right, and they cannot speak for themselves. They work in hospitals. I know they do. They wipe the bodies of those who are sick with fever and pain. They empty their bedpans. They clean out their commodes. No job is beneath them, and yet when they get sick they cannot lie in the bed they made up every day. America, that is not right. We are a better Nation than that. We are a better Nation than that. We need a real war on drugs. You can’t ‘‘just say no’’ It’s deeper than that. You can’t just get a palm reader or an astrologer. It’s more profound than that. We are spending a hundred and ﬁfty billion dollars on drugs a year. We’ve gone from ignoring it to focusing on the children. Children cannot buy a hundred and ﬁfty billion dollars worth of drugs a year; a few high-proﬁle athletes—athletes are not laundering a hundred and ﬁfty billion dollars a year—bankers are. I met the children in Watts, who, unfortunately, in their despair, their grapes of hope have become raisins of despair, and they’re turning on each other and they’re self-destructing. But I stayed with them all night long. I wanted to hear their case. They said, ‘‘Jesse Jackson, as you challenge us to say no to drugs, you’re right; and to not sell them, you’re right; and not use these guns, you’re right.’’ ‘‘We have neither jobs nor houses nor services nor training—no way out. Some of us take drugs as anesthesia for our pain. Some take drugs as a way of pleasure, good short-term pleasure and long-term pain. Some sell drugs to make money. It’s wrong, we know, but you need to know that we know. We can go and buy the drugs by the boxes at the port. If we can buy the drugs at the port, don’t you believe the Federal government can stop it if they want to?’’ They say, ‘‘We don’t have Saturday night specials anymore.’’ They say, ‘‘We buy AK47’s and Uzi’s, the latest make of weapons. We buy them across the along these boulevards.’’ You cannot ﬁght a war on drugs unless and until you’re going to challenge the bankers and the gun sellers and those who grow them. Don’t just focus on the children; let’s stop drugs at the level of supply and demand. We must end the scourge on the American Culture. Leadership. What difference will we make? Leadership. Cannot just go along to get along. We must do more than change Presidents. We must change direction. Leadership must face the moral challenge of our day. The nuclear war build-up is irrational. Strong leadership cannot desire to look tough and let that stand in the way of the pursuit of peace. Leadership must reverse the arms race. At least we should pledge no ﬁrst use. Why? Because ﬁrst use begets ﬁrst retaliation. And that’s mutual annihilation. That’s not a rational way out. No use at all. Let’s think it out and not ﬁght it our because it’s an unwinnable ﬁght. Why hold a card that you can never drop? Let’s give peace a chance. Leadership. We now have this marvelous opportunity to have a breakthrough with the Soviets. Last year 200,000 Americans visited the Soviet Union. There’s a chance for joint ventures into space—not Star Wars and war arms escalation but a

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space defense initiative. Let’s build in the space together and demilitarize the heavens. There’s a way out. America, let us expand. When Mr. Reagan and Mr. Gorbachev met there was a big meeting. They represented together one-eighth of the human race. Seveneighths of the human race was locked out of that room. Most people in the world tonight—half are Asian, one-half of them are Chinese. There are 22 nations in the Middle East. There’s Europe; 40 million Latin Americans next door to us; the Caribbean; Africa—a half-billion people. Most people in the world today are Yellow or Brown or Black, non-Christian, poor, female, young and don’t speak English in the real world. This generation must offer leadership to the real world. We’re losing ground in Latin America, Middle East, South Africa because we’re not focusing on the real world. That’s the real world. We must use basic principles—support international law. We stand the most to gain from it. Support human rights—we believe in that. Support self-determination—we’re built on that. Support economic development— you know it’s right. Be consistent and gain our moral authority in the world. I challenge you tonight, my friends, let’s be bigger and better as a Nation and as a Party. We have basic challenges—freedom in South Africa. We’ve already agreed as Democrats to declare South Africa to be a terrorist state. But don’t just stop there. Get South Africa out of Angola; free Namibia; support the front line states. We must have a new humane human rights consistent policy in Africa. I’m often asked, ‘‘Jesse, why do you take on these tough issues? They’re not very political. We can’t win that way.’’ If an issue is morally right, it will eventually be political. It may be political and never be right. Fannie Lou Hamer didn’t have the most votes in Atlantic City, but her principles have outlasted every delegate who voted to lock her out. Rosa Parks did not have the most votes, but she was morally right. Dr. King didn’t have the most votes about the Vietnam War, but he was morally right. If we are principled ﬁrst, our politics will fall in place. ‘‘Jesse, why do you take these big bold initiatives?’’ A poem by an unknown author went something like this: ‘‘We mastered the air, we conquered the sea, annihilated distance and prolonged life, but we’re not wise enough to live on this earth without war and without hate.’’ As for Jesse Jackson: ‘‘I’m tired of sailing my little boat, far inside the harbor bar. I want to go out where the big ships ﬂoat, out on the deep where the great ones are. And should my frail craft prove too slight for waves that sweep those billows o’er, I’d rather go down in the stirring ﬁght than drowse to death at the sheltered shore.’’ We’ve got to go out, my friends, where the big boats are. And then for our children. Young America, hold your head high now. We can win. We must not lose you to drugs and violence, premature pregnancy, suicide, cynicism, pessimism and despair. We can win. Wherever you are tonight, I challenge you to hope and to dream. Don’t submerge your dreams. Exercise above all else, even on drugs, dream of the day you are drug free. Even in the gutter, dream of the day that you will be up on your feet again. You must never stop dreaming. Face reality, yes, but don’t stop with the way things are. Dream of things as they ought to be. Dream. Face pain, but love, hope, faith and dreams will help you rise above the pain. Use hope and imagination as weapons of survival and progress, but you keep on dreaming, young America. Dream

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of peace. Peace is rational and reasonable. War is irrationable [sic] in this age, and unwinnable. Dream of teachers who teach for life and not for a living. Dream of doctors who are concerned more about public health than private wealth. Dream of lawyers more concerned about justice than a judgeship. Dream of preachers who are concerned more about prophecy than proﬁteering. Dream on the high road with sound values. And then America, as we go forth to September, October, November and then beyond, America must never surrender to a high moral challenge. Do not surrender to drugs. The best drug policy is a ‘‘no ﬁrst use.’’ Don’t surrender with needles and cynicism. Let’s have ‘‘no ﬁrst use’’ on the one hand, or clinics on the other. Never surrender, young America. Go forward. America must never surrender to malnutrition. We can feed the hungry and clothe the naked. We must never surrender. We must go forward. We must never surrender to illiteracy. Invest in our children. Never surrender; and go forward. We must never surrender to inequality. Women cannot compromise ERA or comparable worth. Women are making 60 cents on the dollar to what a man makes. Women cannot buy meat cheaper. Women cannot buy bread cheaper. Women cannot buy milk cheaper. Women deserve to get paid for the work that you do. It’s right! And it’s fair. Don’t surrender, my friends. Those who have AIDS tonight, you deserve our compassion. Even with AIDS you must not surrender. In your wheelchairs. I see you sitting here tonight in those wheelchairs. I’ve stayed with you. I’ve reached out to you across our Nation. And don’t you give up. I know it’s tough sometimes. People look down on you. It took you a little more effort to get here tonight. And no one should look down on you, but sometimes mean people do. The only justiﬁcation we have for looking down on someone is that we’re going to stop and pick them up. But even in your wheelchairs, don’t you give up. We cannot forget 50 years ago when our backs were against the wall, Roosevelt was in a wheelchair. I would rather have Roosevelt in a wheelchair than Reagan and Bush on a horse. Don’t you surrender and don’t you give up. Don’t surrender and don’t give up! Why I cannot challenge you this way? ‘‘Jesse Jackson, you don’t understand my situation. You be on television. You don’t understand. I see you with the big people. You don’t understand my situation.’’ I understand. You see me on TV, but you don’t know the me that makes me, me. They wonder, ‘‘Why does Jesse run?’’ because they see me running for the White House. They don’t see the house I’m running from. I have a story. I wasn’t always on television. Writers were not always outside my door. When I was born late one afternoon, October 8th, in Greenville, South Carolina, no writers asked my mother her name. Nobody chose to write down our address. My mama was not supposed to make it, and I was not supposed to make it. You see, I was born of a teen-age mother, who was born of a teen-age mother. I understand. I know abandonment, and people being mean to you, and saying you’re nothing and nobody and can never be anything. I understand. Jesse Jackson is my third name. I’m adopted. When I had no name, my grandmother gave me her name. My name was Jesse Burns ‘til I was 12. So I wouldn’t have a blank space, she gave me a name to hold me over. I understand when nobody knows your name. I understand when you have no name.

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I understand. I wasn’t born in the hospital. Mama didn’t have insurance. I was born in the bed at [the] house. I really do understand. Born in a three-room house, bathroom in the backyard, slop jar by the bed, no hot and cold running water. I understand. Wallpaper used for decoration? No. For a windbreaker. I understand. I’m a working person’s person. That’s why I understand you whether you’re Black or White. I understand work. I was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I had a shovel programmed for my hand. My mother, a working woman. So many of the days she went to work early, with runs in her stockings. She knew better, but she wore runs in her stockings so that my brother and I could have matching socks and not be laughed at school. I understand. At 3 o’clock on Thanksgiving Day, we couldn’t eat turkey because momma was preparing somebody else’s turkey at 3 o’clock. We had to play football to entertain ourselves. And then around 6 o’clock she would get off the Alta Vista bus and we would bring up the leftovers and eat our turkey—leftovers, the carcass, the cranberries—around 8 o’clock at night. I really do understand. Every one of these funny labels they put on you, those of you who are watching this broadcast tonight in the projects, on the corners, I understand. Call you outcast, low down, you can’t make it, you’re nothing, you’re from nobody, subclass, underclass; when you see Jesse Jackson, when my name goes in nomination, your name goes in nomination. I was born in the slum, but the slum was not born in me. And it wasn’t born in you, and you can make it. Wherever you are tonight, you can make it. Hold your head high; stick your chest out. You can make it. It gets dark sometimes, but the morning comes. Don’t you surrender! Suffering breeds character, character breeds faith. In the end faith will not disappoint. You must not surrender! You may or may not get there but just know that you’re qualiﬁed! And you hold on, and hold out! We must never surrender!! America will get better and better. Keep hope alive. Keep hope alive! Keep hope alive! On tomorrow night and beyond, keep hope alive! I love you very much. I love you very much. Source: Delivered July 19, 1988, Omni Coliseum, Atlanta, GA. Retrieved from American Rhetoric.com.

130. Dorothy Gilliam interview, 1992 This interview is with Dorothy Gilliam, a resident of Tennessee, home to famous writers like Alex Haley and columnist Carl Rowan. This oral history is Ms. Gilliam’s remembrance of her life growing up in a segregated community in a black middle class family, and was conducted December 14, 1992, by Donita Moorhus, a researcher, oral historian, and writer. She has conducted oral history interviews since 1988 and has been an interviewer for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers History Ofﬁce as well as the Women in Journalism Oral History Project. She has been a consultant on oral history to the Society of Woman Geographers and has conducted workshops on oral history for members of the Society in Miami, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Washington, D.C. After serving as an interviewer for one year,

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she was named Director of the Washington Press Club Foundation Oral History Project in June 1993. Moorhus is managing partner of R & D Associates and serves as both project manager and oral historian for projects related to military construction and the accomplishments of the U.S. Army Engineers during the Cold War. Prior to moving to the Washington D.C. metropolitan area in 1991, she spent ﬁfteen years in notfor-proﬁt management and ﬁve years as an independent consultant in New York City. Moorhus has a BA degree in English from the University of Michigan, and an MS degree from Fordham University Graduate School of Social Services. In 1992 she attended the Summer Institute in Oral History at Columbia University. Moorhus:

Gilliam:

Moorhus: Gilliam:

We want to start this morning with the beginnings of your life, where and when were you born. Then tell me about the family into which you were born—your parents, your siblings. I was born in Memphis, Tennessee, on November 24, 1936. I was the eighth child of Adee Conklin Butler and Jessie Mae Norment Butler. Before I was born, several of my siblings had died. There are today ﬁve of us. They had ten children altogether. Five died. By the time I was born, they had lost four children. I have a younger sister and a younger brother. So even though there were ten children and I was the eighth, I always think of myself as the middle child because for most of the years that I remember as I grew up, there were ﬁve of us. One of my sisters [Theo] died of tuberculosis when I was probably eight or nine. I never knew her very much, because she was often away in a hospital. So I really think of myself as the middle child because the ﬁve I remember are my older brother [Adee, Jr.] and older sister [Evelyn] and my younger brother and younger sister. The sister immediately after me [Juanita] was mentally retarded, and then there was another younger brother [Lynwood]. My father, when I was born, was a minister, an African Methodist Episcopal [A.M.E.] minister. I only knew him as a minister. I learned later that my father had been a teacher, but felt called to the ministry. So at a date—I’m not quite sure of the date—he went into the ministry, and by the time I came along, he was actively a minister. My ﬁrst four, nearly ﬁve, years were spent in Memphis, Tennessee, and when I was four years old, my father was called to another church in Louisville, Kentucky, so our family moved to Louisville, Kentucky, on December 7, 1941, which was Pearl Harbor Day. That’s when you moved to Louisville? That is my memory of when we moved to Louisville. At least that’s family lore. So let me try to talk about the time in Memphis and my memories of that. I was born in a housing project called the Dixie Homes. My father was born in Woodstock, Tennessee, and my mother was born in

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Moorhus: Gilliam:

Moorhus: Gilliam:

Moorhus: Gilliam:

Moorhus: Gilliam:

Lucy, Tennessee. These were both really tiny little blips of country towns just a few miles outside of Memphis, and both of them came to Memphis, although I believe they met, as they say, in the country. But by the time I came along, the family had moved to Memphis. There was my older sister Evelyn, who was much older. My older sister now is about eleven years older than I am. Was she the ﬁrst born? She was the ﬁrst born, and that’s why there’s that gap, because my surviving older brother is just eighteen months older than I am. So most of the deaths of my siblings that occurred before I was born occurred with those older children. What was the cause of death of those children? After Evelyn, there was Theo. Theo was the sister who had tuberculosis, and she, I believe, had tuberculosis from an early time, although she didn’t actually die until, as I said, I was probably eight or nine, which meant that she was in her late teens. There were twins who were stillborn. There was another child who was stillborn. One died of pneumonia. And then Theo, that would be the four. I can get some more information on that from my sister as to the exact causes. Interestingly enough, it was not something my mother liked to talk about. I guess that’s understandable. But it was also kind of typical of my mother, who didn’t talk about a lot of things like that. It was like life moved on. At some point I will show you their pictures which I have upstairs. Good. So you can see both my mother and my father. I have other family members whose pictures I will show you. Then my next oldest brother is Adee Conklin Butler, Jr., and then my name is Dorothy Pearl Butler. I don’t talk about that often. My grandmother’s name was Pearl. I like Pearl. Well, that’s not one of my favorite names, believe me. Growing up as a teenager, that’s not the jazziest name, as they say. Then my sister who was immediately born after me, who was mentally retarded, is Juanita. Then I have a younger brother who is Lynwood Odell. Juanita was Juanita Ronell. I don’t quite know the origin of that name, but that was her name. I was born at home in the Dixie Homes project. My father at that point was pastoring Wards Chapel A.M.E. in Memphis. My father’s brother lived in Memphis, and he had a store and a tailoring shop. One of my earliest memories is playing with his children and his family and going to his little store and his tailoring shop. My early memories are very fragmented. I mean, that’s one of the memories I have. I have very few memories of the kind of day-to-day things. I don’t know how many people remember what life was like when they

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were three and four. But my most vivid memories really begin when I got to Louisville. In many ways it seems as though my life kind of started there. When I think of Memphis in those early days, you think of a minister and his family, you know. Even at that point there were certain kinds of restrictions in terms of your life and activities, and so my memories are like kind of good, clean fun, like eating ice cream at my uncle’s house. One of the things about Southerners and one of the things about ministers—these are gross generalizations, but certainly I can say for our family—food was a very, very big thing. Its curse has kind of followed me all my life. It’s something I’ve had to struggle with in many ways. I’ll certainly talk about that as we move along. But one of my few memories of that early time is my Aunt Gussie, who was a good cook—and my mother was also an excellent cook— my Aunt Gussie making homemade ice cream in the old-fashioned freezer where you would turn the crank and you’d have the cracked ice all around the can in the middle, and it would always be something luscious and rich, with all the richness that certain people had in those days. So those are some of the pleasant things that I remember. I remember very little about the house we lived in. As I think back to that period, I think about the rapid speed at which my mother was having children, because there were two younger than I was by the time I was just turning ﬁve. When we moved to Louisville on December 7, 1941, my younger brother [Lynwood] had been born October 19, 1941, and as I said, I was born November 24, 1936. Then I had an older brother [Adee, Jr.] who was eighteen months older. So I’m sure, on the one hand, my mother was just thrilled that these children were surviving. At this point she still had a sickly older daughter, and then my older sister Evelyn. But I am very sure that there was not time to give me the kind of attention that apparently my little spirit needed, so that’s been a factor at some level with me, just needing and wanting. I think the need and desire for a certain kind of recognition has been a factor. This is certainly hindsight, but I think that’s part of why I’ve done some of the things I’ve done. Memphis, Tennessee, was the home of a very famous street called Beale Street, where both jazz and blues and just an incredible kind of musical creativity took place. Because I was too young to be very much a part of any of that and also because those were not the things that we took part in, in terms of my family and our church, these were things that I learned about many years later. It’s as though I feel very much that there was a Memphis out there that I never really experienced, partly because obviously I didn’t grow up there, but I always think of Memphis as having a special kind of lore and culture. It’s such a rich repository of black culture, and I think about Tennessee and I

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Moorhus: Gilliam:

think about now some of the great writers who were from Tennessee. Alex Haley grew up in Tennessee. (Alex Haley (1921–1992), author of the novel Roots, (1976). Recipient of the 1977 Pulitzer Special Citation for Roots, which traced Haley’s family back seven generations to an African village in Gambia. Haley also helped with The Autobiography of Malcolm X.) Tennessee has produced some outstanding journalists. Carl Rowan was born in Tennessee. So I feel very proud to have been born in Tennessee. But when I think of the direct inﬂuences of it, I think those inﬂuences came primarily from my parents. Let me go back just a little bit and talk about my father, because he’s a very, very key ﬁgure in my life. As I said, my father was born in Woodstock, Tennessee. He was one of about eight children as well, and they were farmers. I never met my grandfather; he was dead by the time I came along. But my Uncle Odell, who died a couple of years ago at the age of ninety, was telling me something about my father, and he said that my father always had an incredible desire to succeed. Of course, this is the time when segregation was at its most intense, and there were just incredible odds against black men of that era in the South achieving educationally. One of the things, for example, they only went to school when it wasn’t planting season, because when there were things to do on the farm, they had to work on the farm. But he said my father rebelled against this and talked their father into letting him go away to school. So my father ended up going to a little—they call it now a college, but it was really kind of a normal school, I’m sure, in Mississippi. Uncle Odell remembered that he and the other boys were really quite jealous and upset. How did Adee get to escape the burden of the farm and the country and go off to this school in Mississippi? I’m sure that when Daddy went, he didn’t have any money, but he went and worked his way and did whatever he could possibly do, you know, to make it. But he was always motivated by education and a desire to succeed, so he escaped the farm life that my uncles were bound by. How old was he when he went away to school, would you guess? The school in the region where he was, most of the schools for black people stopped at around eighth grade. So my guess is that he was probably around fourteen, ﬁfteen, that he went through the schools they had there and then went to Mississippi. In fact, after he graduated from that school, he attended Hampton. At that point it was Hampton Institute; now it’s Hampton University. He graduated from Wilberforce University, obviously the only one in his family who ﬁnished college. He was always a person who pushed himself, who wanted to achieve, and who had dreams and who was just very determined. I’m sure some of my spirit I got from him. I’m trying to dispense with some of the more dangerous aspects of that. [Laughter.]

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Meanwhile, my mother, growing up in Lucy, Tennessee, there were just two of them, a sister and a brother, and her father was better off. These towns are not that far apart. Her father had one of the ﬁrst cars in that area. He was very protective of my mother. In that era in the South, families were more likely to try to educate their daughters, because they knew that the alternative for a daughter, a woman, was that she could be a schoolteacher or she could be a maid. There wasn’t the whole range of middle-level jobs that women could have. So my mother went to normal school. They are, as you probably know, the equivalent of what today would be community colleges. So she went two years to normal school, and when she graduated, she was able to teach school in rural Tennessee, with two years of college. That would have been in the early twenties, wouldn’t it? Yes, it would have—twenties and thirties. My father was born in 1899, and my mother was born in 1901. My father died in 1951 at the age of ﬁfty-one. I was fourteen years old, so that was a very deﬁning incident in my life. But to back up a little bit: In many ways my parents were much better off educationally than a lot of the people who were their peers. My father did several things during his life, all before he became a minister. As a teacher, he would sometimes spend the summers driving a river boat. He drove a river boat up in New York, up and down the Hudson [River]. One of the ways he paid his way through college was as a football player, and he was very big, because weight was one of his issues. So he paid his way through school playing football. One of the things I’ve got to really verify, because, as I said, my father died when I was so young, and because he had totally switched careers and his whole mind set was somewhere else, I’ve got to really check on this, but my understanding had been that my father had been All American. But when I went to Hampton Institute and looked—I was there on another occasion, and I looked at some of the All American listings—I didn’t see him. So before I put that down as fact, I’ve really got to do some more checking on that. But he certainly was quite an outstanding football player and tackle, certainly to the point that he was able to help work his way through school. He did graduate from Wilberforce University, and came back to Tennessee, and he was teaching, and that’s when he met my mother. They were teaching in the same school? I don’t believe they were teaching in the same school; they were just teaching in these little towns. Was it the normal school environment? Were they teaching some of the lower grades or high school subjects? They were teaching in lower grades. Country schools stopped at eighth grade. According to my sister, what happened was that my mother,

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once the children started coming, my mother stopped teaching, and I don’t quite know how long she taught. My father was teaching, but my sister [Evelyn] said he was kind of getting ill at certain times, and she said that he promised God that if He would heal him, that he would stop ﬁghting what had been apparently this inward call to the ministry, and that he would give Him his life. According to my sister, my mother was just horriﬁed at the thought that she was going to be married to a minister. While she was a quite—I guess God-fearing woman, you’d call her, but certainly she was brought up in the church and all that, she said, ‘‘I married a teacher; I didn’t marry a preacher.’’ At the point when Daddy made this decision, she had two children, Evelyn and Theo. So she took her children and went home to her daddy and said, ‘‘Adee has gone crazy, because that is not the man I married, and I don’t want the life of a minister’s wife.’’ Particularly she knew about the very uncertain kind of ﬁnancial situation. She also knew that as an A.M.E., the pattern was for ministers to be moved around periodically, unlike in the Baptist Church, where sometimes a Baptist minister can be there for twenty, twenty-ﬁve years. The pattern in the A.M.E Church was very deﬁnitely that one moved around after a few years, moving up or just moving in a lateral way, and she had these children and she didn’t want that kind of life. So she went home to her daddy, and apparently she stayed home with her parents for about two weeks, and then her father said, ‘‘Well, Jessie, it’s time for you to go back to your husband.’’ In effect, ‘‘You’ve had your temper tantrum, but, you know, this is the deal you made.’’ And he called my daddy and he said, ‘‘Adee, come and get her.’’ [Laughter.] So she went back. I have no idea what happened, what her discussion was, because this was never a story that she told me. I only heard this years later after she had died, that she had had this kind of rebellion and had done this, because by the time I came along, my mother was about the most faithful wife that you can imagine. And I mean a faithful minister’s wife. I can remember that one time my mother, years later, said to my father, ‘‘I would just like to know what beer tastes like.’’ So he said, ‘‘All right.’’ He went out and got her some beer, and it was like these two bottles, and they just sat kind of under the sink for years and years. I don’t think she ever tasted them. But my sister [Evelyn] said that when she was growing up, she remembered my parents as people who would be what would have been called by church people at that time ‘‘goodtime people.’’ She said they liked to play cards, and that was all considered things that you didn’t do once you really got involved in church. Apparently once she went over and became this minister’s wife after her two-week rebellion, she took on the mantle with full force. So, as I

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said, by the time I remember them, they were very entrenched as minister and wife. Always, always, always money—money was a problem. No money. Whereas my mother, with her two years of school, had been able to teach in rural Tennessee, when the family moved to Memphis, where my father was assigned a church, she was unable to teach. She did not have the credentials. In order to teach in any city system, you had to have a college degree. My mother’s option then was to do housecleaning, so all of my life I remember my mother as a housekeeper, as a housecleaner, as a maid, as a domestic. That’s how she earned money to supplement and help my father. The tradition of women working has always been one in my culture. I mean, black women worked. Those who were able to stay home, those were exceptions. I remember reading, you know, that some people had those experiences, but I didn’t. You said that her father had had a car. What did he do? Her father was also a farmer, but he owned some property, as I recall, or he owned more than my father’s father. And had fewer children. Right. Exactly. I also don’t know whether or not my mother’s father was really a sharecropper, you know, as opposed to having owned his land. But then, of course, a car was a mark of some—not wealth, but certainly a mark of being relatively better off. But it was all for naught, because the horror of that whole system of segregation, the way it worked itself out, had my mother with that two years of education been in New York, she could have sold—she could have worked at—well, I don’t even know. She would have had other options. I don’t even know in the thirties if that would have happened, but at least I think there would have been possibilities, other options. But the result of the horror of segregation, the way it operated on a very personal level, was that that was what my mother ended up doing, basically scrubbing ﬂoors. I have to say I never heard her complain. So my memory of my mother is being busy, gentle, very gentle, but always tired, you know, because she was doing both things. My sister, my older sister Evelyn, who will be one of the people I’ll be seeing for Christmas, became kind of the caretaker. She used to say that she would go out to play and she’d have to have me on one hip and my brother [Adee, Jr.] on the other, so she’d be running around on the baseball ﬁeld trying to make bases carrying both her two younger sister and brother. That early time in Memphis, as I said, as I think back on what other relatives were there and available, my father’s mother was still alive— Grandmother Mary. But her husband, Nick Butler, my father’s father, I

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do not have any conscious memory of. Grandmother Mary eventually came to live with us or to visit. She came to visit us quite a bit in later years, but my memory of Grandmother Mary was she looked as though she had some Indian blood. She was a little fairer. She seemed to have some yellow in her skin, and her hair was sort of longer and more—I mean, I just think back on it, the vision that comes to me is somebody who might have had some Indian blood. She was always what I considered kind of a mean woman. She was a real contrast to my mother. I can remember her saying—this was in Louisville in later years, and I’d be playing with the kids around the neighborhood, and she would have done something like maybe mop the kitchen, and she’d yell, ‘‘Get those stinkers out of my house!’’ I just have no memory of her being somebody into whose arms you would cuddle, you know, the stereotype of the grandmother. Neither my mother’s mother nor father can I consciously remember. In fact, my mother’s father died before I was born. My mother took care of her father. He moved in with her and spent his latter years in the family. I don’t know at what point my grandmother on my mother’s side, my maternal grandmother, died. So for me, Memphis in those early years were years where we were in relatively small quarters. I passed those projects some years ago, and they are still there. Housing projects did not have the stigma that they have now. They were one story, spread out. They were urban and they were certainly not sumptuous at all, but basically they were decentlooking places. So those early memories are about basically being a minister’s daughter. Do you remember going to church and hearing your father preach? I don’t remember that a lot until Louisville. One thing my sister [Evelyn] told me about that time was that even then I had started something which would become a pattern, and that was reciting and saying poems in church. I thought I started it when I was four or ﬁve, but she said I was doing it even earlier. Now, I know that I was going to church, even though I can’t remember anything about the church at that point, and I know that all the children went to Sunday school. One of the things we did, of course, was for all of the major religious holidays, we had little recitations, little poems and things to say. But my memory is that I was always saying really long poems, like when I was four or ﬁve years old, I would be saying ‘‘The Night Before Christmas’’ from beginning to end. That was this performance, the star performer, you know. [Laughter.] I apparently assumed it pretty early. Looking back, I think part of the reason for it was not only the fact that my mother was very burdened just between working—and I don’t know how many days she worked—and with the children and then coming right after me was a mentally retarded child, Juanita. Years

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later, my Aunt Gussie, who is still alive in Memphis, told me that they used to take turns and they would sit and they would rock her and rock her. I think it was a case of the handicapped child getting the attention. There’s something very shocking, I’m sure, about having a child who has Down’s Syndrome. I sensed that my mother struggled with that. Certainly there was never any case of her doing anything other than being taken care of in the home, but there was also, I think, a sense that she was going to be normal. So I presume that there was some conﬂict and some guilt and some other things around having this child. I speculate that maybe some of what had been the attention that I might have wanted as a three-year-old, that I didn’t get because, in part, that situation was going on. Then, as I said, shortly after that, my mother had yet another child [Lynwood]. So I think all that affected the tenor of the household at that time. I want to say a word or two about the African Methodist Episcopal Church. The African Methodist Episcopal tradition is just an extraordinary tradition. The A.M.E. Church was started by Richard Allen. Richard Allen was a former slave who started this church in Philadelphia back in the early eighteenth century. He started that church because he and another group of former slaves were trying to worship in a white church and they had set off some seats in the back for them to worship, and they found themselves just restricted in so many ways that Richard Allen said, ‘‘This is horrendous and absolutely against all that God would teach us and that God would expect from Christians.’’ And he went off and he started the African Methodist Episcopal Church. That church has just grown and expanded over the years. I don’t think it was happenstance that my father chose the A.M.E. Church in which to begin a ministerial career, although I think he had been born and reared an A.M.E., and so had my mother. So I think that was part of the tradition, too. But I think it’s also interesting that [Presidentelect] Bill Clinton is going to have his inaugural breakfast at an A.M.E. church. That tradition of the A.M.E., that kind of pride in self and a strong belief, is something that has followed our family. Interestingly enough—and thank goodness, as I was talking about all the restrictions of the church—it was not as restricted as some churches were during that period. The church has always been—the church was a center of our social life and all of that, and, of course, I come from a culture in which religion has been important, but thank God it wasn’t one of these religions where you can’t do this, you can’t do this, you can’t do that. As a teenager growing up, we could go to dances and wear makeup. So even though, comparatively speaking, there were some traditions, it was not a funless kind of church and tradition.

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Good. That’s about all I can think of right now in terms of the pre-Louisville time. Are you ready to go to Louisville? Sure. Let’s go to Louisville. Okay. As I said, my father had gone on to Louisville before we arrived, and the church to which— Did he go earlier because your mother was expecting the baby? Actually, the A.M.E.s have their conferences every fall, and so he was assigned to Louisville probably at about the same time my mother was expecting the baby, yes. So the short answer is yes. But he went earlier only by probably a couple of months. So Young’s Chapel A.M.E. Church was the church to which he had been assigned. [Tape interruption.] We had just gotten you to Louisville, to the church. Young’s Chapel A.M.E. Church was situated at Sixteenth and St. Catherine Streets in Louisville, and it was, as you can see from the picture, not a very large church. We lived in the parsonage next door. You can’t see it from there, but it was kind of a long, skinny house with two stories and had a living room, then my parents’ bedroom was the next room, and behind that was kind of a dining room, and then the kitchen was along in the back. Then the bedrooms where the children stayed were upstairs. It was right on the corner of an alley, and then the church was there. My father decided to build the church on property in front of the existing church, and it was on that property that my father decided to build the church, which was sorely needed. And that church stands today. It has been remodeled over the years, etc., but as I think about that, I’ve realized it was such a remarkable thing to undergo, you know, in the midst of a war. The congregation was predominantly made up of domestic workers and laborers. There were some schoolteachers and postal workers who were among the highest paid in black life at that point. But it was not one of the churches in Louisville where your middle-class blacks went. The context for my growing up is important to establish. I grew up in almost an entirely segregated system until I went to college, so there were no interactions with whites. I was in black neighborhoods, black schools. I did not go to school until I came to Louisville. Those were not the days when people went to pre-school, at least not when people I knew went to pre-school. So I entered school when I was, I guess, six years old—probably ﬁve. I went to Phyllis Wheatley Elementary School. I guess from the start, Louisville seemed like home. I guess it was because it was there that I sort of started coming of age and remembering and made friends. Living right next door to the church, what my dad did and our connection to it was all very clear and very

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clear cut. I look back and call those years between ﬁve and ten, I would say they were good years, as I look back on them. In school I was always considered ‘‘smart.’’ In fact, I skipped a grade, which was the way we were rewarded then for good grades. I’d say they were good years on many levels. They were marred for me by, as I said, a problem that has followed me through my life, and that is weight. I was always a plump kid, and food was, once again, I guess in most families, or in many families, food was the way people expressed love and showed love. It was also an era when we gathered around the table to eat, you know. There wasn’t sporadic eating. We really functioned as a family. My mother did day work, day domestic work, but always was able to arrange it so she was home early enough. She used to say that’s one of the advantages; she could get home in time to ﬁx dinner. We functioned very much as a family in a very traditional sense of the word. The disadvantage, of course, of being plump was that you got teased, and that meant humiliation. So there was always this kind of level of feeling, this discomfort because of being teased. But at the same time, I had two things going for me. I was considered smart—and I was smart—and my daddy was the preacher. That’s both a negative and a positive, but in terms of the status in the community, there was the status of the community leader. We were in a neighborhood called California, and that kind of took in—Sixteenth and St. Catherine Streets was one of the main kind of drags and intersection. I still go to that church when I go to Louisville. For Christmas I will go to that church and will be able to see some of the people who I saw, who taught me in Sunday school. Some of them have died. In fact, my sister [Evelyn] told me a few months ago that one of the men there, Brother Ransaw, a long, long, longtime member, has recently died. He’s somebody I always looked forward to seeing when I went there. What was it like growing up as a minister’s daughter? I felt very loved by all the people at the church and very kind of special. I think in many ways that period was probably the height of my father’s experience as a minister, because he had taken on this challenge of building the church. When I think about it, you know, you think about challenges in your own life and when you decide to go for something, I understand it and appreciate it more now than I ever did, because when you think about you’re going to step out and build something, make something happen, that takes a lot of vision and determination. Once again, with the timing of it, the fact that you had people who themselves did not have much money, I can remember that my father—the salaries of A.M.E. ministers were not that large, but he would often, once he made the commitment to build that church, he

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would often take his salary and give it back to the church in order to pay the workmen. I have a very vivid memory of being unable to go to school at one point because I didn’t have shoes. Even though, as I said, my mother was working and my father was working, I’m sure it was just one of those times when he had to pay the workmen or he had to pay—he just had to put that money back into that church. I don’t remember how long I stayed out of school, but I do remember a day when I did not go to school because I didn’t have shoes. It was really a matter that we were just caught. I lived probably three minutes away from school, from Phyllis Wheatley, and I can remember we had wonderful teachers. Obviously not all of them, but that era of black life, that would have been in the 1940s in the South, the fact of segregation worked very much to the advantage of a lot of young people, because the people in our race who were educated had so few opportunities that they poured all of that wealth and richness on to us, and teaching had always been a very important profession. You could be a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher, or a postal worker—you know, some profession that could be utilized within our community. Teachers were at the zenith. So throughout my schooling, as I said, not all of them were, but there were some really ﬁne teachers, because that’s where the cream of the crop came and that’s where they stayed. I remember one of my teachers was Miss Black, second or third grade. We took things like Latin. I still can say some of the prayers that I learned in Latin back in the sixth grade. It was that kind of vividness of the way we were taught. As I said, I skipped a grade, so I ended up catching up with my brother, who is eighteen months older, which didn’t make him very happy, because one doesn’t ever want to be in the same class with a younger sister. I look back and I realize that I didn’t have quite the social sophistication that I needed, but as a result, I graduated from elementary school and went to junior high when I was ten. Once again, because I looked older, it wasn’t always that noticeable, but what happened was that as my father was working and building this church, his problems with weight and illness ﬁnally caught up with him in a way that I could really see it, because he had a heart attack. He was, as you can see, quite formidable, and he continued to build. I’m sure, looking back now, I’d say my dad probably was a compulsive eater. Maybe that’s how he dealt with all the stress of what he was doing. When did he have the heart attack? He had several heart attacks. The ﬁrst one that I remember was maybe around 1946, something like that. I remember his going in and out of the hospital. One of the things the doctor insisted after that heart attack, he had heart trouble and high blood pressure, so, of course, he

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was put on a strict diet. My mother, just as she cooked the meals that he loved, turned right around and dutifully cooked the kind of meals that promoted his health. I just remember his kind of losing weight, and then he was back in the hospital later. So I think he had more than one heart attack. He died of a heart attack in 1951. What happened was that his health continued to worsen as he was building the church. By about 1950, he ﬁnally realized that he was going to have to give up the day-to-day pastoring. The church was almost constructed by then, but I think the combination of all that had just been too much. By the time I was in junior high school, my father gave up the church and was ‘‘promoted.’’ And it is the next level, but the next level within the A.M.E. Church, they have active ministers, presiding elders, and bishops. He was promoted to presiding elder, in part because of his work in building the church, but in many ways the presiding elder was a much less stressful job, because the duties of a presiding elder were to be in charge of a certain number of churches. So on certain Sundays he would go to the various churches that were under his charge. My brother, who was able to get his driver’s license because he had gotten a special dispensation because of my father’s illness, would drive him to these various churches. My brother got his driver’s license when he was ﬁfteen. So he would drive Daddy to the various churches where he was to oversee. When Daddy gave up the church, we had to ﬁnd someplace else to live. His group of churches was in Kentucky. It was in the Louisville area, but a lot of small towns. I didn’t realize what was going on in terms of—we needed a place to live. Right after he was reassigned, we lived for a few months with a woman who was a member of our church, maybe just a few weeks. I don’t remember. But we ﬁnally ended up moving to the country and living on what I recall was like some form of modern-day sharecropping, because we ended up moving to Anchorage, Kentucky, on the farm of a man named Cameron. My mother cleaned their house. My brother took care of the livestock and stuff on that farm. Daddy was not able to do anything, but he was able to, on Sundays, go to the various churches that he was supposed to. I don’t know if he was really able, but he did, and my brother would drive him. That represented in many ways a real loss in status for our family. It was a funny loss in status, because there’s no doubt about the fact that the presiding elder is higher up on the ladder in some ways, but to go from having been kind of a leader in the community, where you could visibly see it, with him living next to the church, he’d sit out on the front and everybody knew Reverend Butler, and we were there, and then suddenly you’re like, in effect, sharecropping out in the country, I can imagine that it was very hard on my father.

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We’d been out there about a year when my father died. I was with him when he died, as a matter of fact. My brother and I were going with him. It was a Sunday morning. We were headed to a church, one of the churches under him in Shelbyville, Kentucky. We pulled into the service station to get some gas, and my father had a heart attack right there in the service station. It was just the most frightening, fearsome, shattering experience to be there and to see that happen. When I look back at the relationship between my life and my father’s, as I said, as my father got sicker, I got fatter. By the time my father had died, I weighed 202 pounds as a fourteen-year-old. It was almost as though I was holding my breath—the fear. I don’t know, just eating to batten down the feelings and whatever. But after he died, a little after that, I told my mother that I wanted to go to the city hospital and have them put me on a diet, and I did. They did, and I guess maybe six or eight months later, I had lost about sixty pounds and kind of come within normal weight. So by the time I was sixteen, I was looking pretty much like a normal teenager. What time of year was it that your father died? It was in the spring. It was in April. I believe it was April 7, 1951. Looking back, in many ways I think I was always the apple of my father’s eye, and maybe it was because my mother had so many pulls on her. I cannot say too much about what a sort of gentle woman she was, but I think she was also kind of a martyr, you know. She just had a lot of things pulling at her. So I guess my father became very special to me, and not because I have a lot of memories of us doing fatherdaughter things or anything like that. My father had a lot of race pride. For instance, with black people there’s always the thing of do you wear your hair naturally or do you press it. My father did not want us to have our hair pressed, but I looked up, and all the little girls in the neighborhood, it was no big deal, but they’d get a warm comb through their hair and they’d have little bangs or whatever. And I wanted bangs like everybody else. My mother was the kind who would say [whispering], ‘‘I’ll take care of it.’’ And she would go ahead and press it and do the things that would make me feel good. I never remember my mother saying anything negative about me gaining weight. I mean, never. She just did what had to be done. You just bought what ﬁt. So whereas I was teased outside, I never remember being made to feel bad within my home about that. I don’t remember whether my brother teased me. That would be something that you would just expect, and I really can’t remember. I suspect he did, but my more conscious memory of my brother’s taunting was sort of exploiting my fear of cats. I was very afraid of cats as a little girl. As I said, our bedrooms were on the second ﬂoor. I did not have my own separate bedroom, obviously. At least my sister and probably a couple of us

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lived in there, and the boys stayed together. We did not have a big house or sumptuous digs at all. But I remember his getting this cat and trying to put it on me, and I was going to jump out of the second ﬂoor bedroom to get away from him and the cat. I remember things like that, but I don’t remember his teasing me about weight or anything like that. I remember teasing like being on the school bus, because once we moved to the country, I went to school—Lincoln Institute—in Lincoln Ridge, Kentucky, and I can remember sitting on the school bus, and you’d pick other people up. They’d say, ‘‘Oh, we can’t sit next to her. There’s no more room on the seat,’’ that kind of teasing. But I don’t remember any of that going on in my own home. I guess it was a very orderly home, even once we moved out into the country, where we basically had three rooms. We stayed in three rooms. Again, my mother sort of did everything. During that period we had an outhouse. It was just so strange, after living in the city, to go back into this kind of setting. We had to get water from a well. My mother washed our clothes in a tin thing in the back. She was always determined that there were certain things I wasn’t going to do, and I don’t remember her consciously talking about it day after day after day or anything like that, but, for instance, she never wanted me to go down and help her down at the place where she was working in this house. I don’t ever remember doing that. Maybe it’s something I’ve consciously suppressed, but I don’t ever remember going down and helping her clean these people’s houses or wait on them or serve them. She did that. My job at home was to wash dishes. She did the cooking. She did most of the washing. We’d all go and get water, that kind of thing. We were out there, I’d say, about three years. As I said, my father died after one year, and then after my brother and I ﬁnished high school, then we moved back into town, moved back into a housing project in Louisville. I graduated from high school when I was sixteen. Once again, those housing projects, after what we had lived through, were like heaven. They were new projects. Everybody in the family was working. We all helped. When we lived in the country, my older sister Evelyn stayed on the place. She worked for some other people, stayed in their house and worked, so we saw her usually on Sundays. We still would come into church, to Young’s Chapel Church, every Sunday. I think back to the whole business of my mother as a domestic, and I remember once I wrote an article in which I talked a little bit about that. Somebody wrote a book about domestic workers and the women they work for in the South, and it brought back memories of this kind of—they said it was almost like this conspiracy of silence between these women. My mother—I remember once I answered the phone— this was when we were at the parsonage—and it was one of the women she worked for. She said, ‘‘Hello, is Jessie home?’’ And I said, ‘‘Jessie?

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There’s no Jessie here. It’s Mrs. Butler.’’ I mean, you know, my mother was one of the most respected women in the church and in the community. Who dared call her by her ﬁrst name? And Mother came rushing in there and she took the phone, and she said [whispering], ‘‘Don’t you do that! Don’t you ever do that again.’’ And she picked up the phone and she spoke. It was this sort of what seemed to me a subservience that just angered me. I was just furious! But she understood what it took to do what she had to do, or certainly felt she had to do it the way she was doing it. I’m sure she did. But I can still remember just that anger of, ‘‘Who is this who can treat my mother the way nobody else does?’’ and being very angry about that, and also being kind of bafﬂed by my mother’s silence about [whispering], ‘‘Don’t you do that.’’ Part of this was sort of some of the—for lack of a more articulate word at the moment, this sort of ‘‘thing’’ about white people. I mean, I knew they were white, but the only time white people came in my neighborhood were basically insurance men. That was pretty much it. Louisville, where I have my most conscious memories, was not as viciously segregated as further south. For example, the buses were not segregated, so that you didn’t have that kind of daily reminder that you had to stop, start at the back and stand and all of that. I mean, this is all very relative. Although we lived in a very separate world, my feelings about whites was that they’re different and separate and apart out here, but they had some kind of power that I didn’t like but I couldn’t do anything about. It was not very much of a conscious thing that I had to be concerned with. It was just sort of there, but it didn’t impinge directly on a day-to-day basis with your life? That would be correct, until we moved to the country. Then we were living in much closer contact, except they were living in the big house and we were living up in the little shack. It was really not a shack. It was a little house, a little modest, modest house. It had what would be my mother’s usual touches of making the best out of whatever she had. So that way I felt it was impinging more on my life, not because—as I said, I didn’t work for them. My brother came into contact with the man who owned it, who was a lawyer. I guess you’d call him a gentleman farmer. My mother came in contact with Mrs. Cameron, who was the woman of the house. I would see them sometimes, because we’d come up the driveway and then we’d come up a different path to get to our place. But it was indirect impingement on my life. As a child growing up in Louisville, there were just no whites at all, and there was no direct impinging at all on my life. Going back to the move to Louisville, do you remember whether your mother made any comments to the effect that, ‘‘This is what I was afraid of. Here we are being moved around’’? Do you remember some

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of the dynamics in the family, how Evelyn felt about this, for example, the move to Louisville? I do not. What about the war? How did World War II impact on your family and on you? I have very vague and very fuzzy memories of the war. I think the impact was more in terms of things that were rationed and some of the things that you were able to eat and buy. I was just so young myself, I have no memories of people going to war. I had no relatives going to war. Ours was the only family. We had no immediate sisters and brothers and aunts and uncles in Louisville, so if some of the older cousins or whatever went, I had no conscious knowledge of that. I remember my father had always been an avid newspaper reader. We got two newspapers a day. We got the Courier Journal and the Louisville Times. We got the Louisville Defender; that’s the weekly black newspaper. I used to deliver the Louisville Defender every Thursday. So I know he kept up with the war in terms of reading and listening to the radio. He was always a person who had a large vision. What I don’t remember is lots of discussion at the dinner table about it. I’m sure that most people in my family and church were big fans of FDR [Franklin Delano Roosevelt]. I don’t think they were terribly politically astute or aware. Despite the segregation and despite the way it impacted on their lives in a very direct way in terms of the jobs and money and income and neighborhoods and all of that, I would expect that they would have felt patriotic Americans. The war is really not a very conscious thing with me. It’s interesting. I was talking to one of my peers who went to Columbia [University] with me years later, and she was talking about the war, and she has all these memories. She grew up in New York, but she has all these memories of the war. I just don’t have. It’s like a vague backdrop to my life. Do you remember learning how to read? No. I just remember seemingly always knowing how to read. I remember always loving to read. I just consumed books the way I probably consumed food at some point. [Laughter.] I loved to read everything. Books were indeed my ticket to other worlds, and I read all the classics. I read writings of the few black authors that were available. In fact, it was more than a few; quite a number. I’ve always been a voracious reader, and I don’t remember when I consciously did it. I suspect it was a combination of learning to read in Sunday school, because we had Sunday school books, and for little kids they were very simply written—you know, ‘‘God is love.’’ Then you kind of graduated up. So that by the time I went to ﬁrst grade, I’m sure I had mastered some of the basic reading. I hadn’t thought about that before, but I suspect part of

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my learning to read was a combination of home and church. So that school simply embellished that. Do you remember reading your father’s newspapers? I remember reading the funnies. I remember them always being around, but I don’t remember—and I can’t believe that I didn’t, but I keep thinking there must be something awful I’ve suppressed, because there’s so many things I don’t remember. Something is waiting to pop out. But, no, I don’t. In later years, yes, but I’m thinking now about those early years. But my family continued, and continues, to get newspapers; for years and years and years we always got both the morning and the afternoon, so I started reading newspapers when I was very young. I would think more often—I guess we couldn’t have gotten newspapers during those three years in the country, though. I don’t know quite what I did or how we— To get books to read, did you go to the library? Yes, yes. The public library? The public library. There was a public library in my neighborhood. We had libraries at school. So I would get books at all those places. My father also had a lot of books. His books were various kind of compendiums, you know, religious compendiums, but they were also books like—I remember, in fact, I have it somewhere on my shelf, a few of these books I have around here now are my father’s, but they would be books like Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. I think now about those concepts about mind over matter and all that stuff that people are into very strongly today, he was nurturing that kind of thought many, many years ago, and that’s probably one of the reasons he had the audacity to sort of step out in war years, with a poor church, and try to build what was a relatively large church for Louisville in that time. As I said, it’s a church with some additions—they never changed the exterior, but with some continuing remodeling still stands today. So I read some of those kind of books, or at least years afterwards. But the kind of books I read growing up were everything from Jane Eyre and your standard English books, to things I would sneak around and read, like True Confessions. One of the teachers I remember in high school, in Lincoln Institute—let me just say a word about that. Lincoln Institute was a boarding high school in Lincoln Ridge, Kentucky, which means it was situated between Louisville and Shelbyville. The principal was a man named Whitney Young, Sr., who was the father of Whitney Young, Jr., who became president of the National Urban League. It had been started, once again, because of segregation. What happened was there were many, many small towns scattered around Kentucky where there were few blacks, and it wasn’t enough people to justify building a separate school in these little towns, so

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what they did was to establish this boarding school at Lincoln Ridge, and the various counties would pay for their black students to come to this boarding school, rather than have them integrate the existing school. In addition to the boarding students, they had a certain number of what they called day students, those of us who came by bus, and we were the ones who the bus would pick up, maybe a couple of busloads from different places, from surrounding counties. In many ways I felt very fortunate to have gone to Lincoln. Had we remained in Louisville, I would have gone to Central High School, which was the one high school where all of the blacks in Louisville went. So Lincoln gave me kind of a different milieu during that time. There were, again, some outstanding teachers, and because of its unique character, it was one of those places where many teachers wanted to come. Located kind of in the hinterlands here, it had quarters for teachers to live. The librarian’s name again? Louvan Gearing. Of course, when you’re ﬁfteen, everybody looks old. When I went back years later and looked at pictures, I thought, ‘‘They weren’t that old,’’ you know. [Tape interruption.] Louvan Gearing was the librarian at Lincoln. You were talking about your perception of how old she is. Yes, and as I said, she looked older, but she probably was in her twenties, because she’s still quite alive, and I’m ﬁfty-ﬁve. [Laughter.] I actually just turned ﬁfty-six. But at any rate, she encouraged me to read. One day I was in the library and I had a big book in front of me, and I had a True Confessions inside this book in the library. She tiptoed over there and saw this and made such a public fuss about me reading this True Confessions, that I think I was cured for life. I think my addiction to this was cured on the spot. I think part of the reason I read so voraciously and loved just reading everything was because, in effect, I had something of a restricted life. There were things we just didn’t do. I can’t say that it felt oppressive at the time, in a conscious way, because we did ‘‘have fun’’ around our church and all that, but we didn’t go into bars and go to dances and live the wild life. So in a way, books really showed me this other side. The other high school person who comes to mind was a man named Mr. Mumford, who worked with me in terms of making speeches and debating. We didn’t have a debating team at Lincoln, but he liked the fact that I could talk if he told me what to say. He’d come up with these speeches that were just the most—they made me so unpopular because they were like ‘‘The Evils of Smoking.’’ I mean, you know, really, in the early ﬁfties, nobody was talking about the evils of smoking. Everybody was sort of slipping around doing it. I guess I was a truly goody-two-shoes, but not really. I mean, I had messed around. I had done, you know—

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Did he write the speeches or did he have you write them? I don’t remember. I think we may have done them together. I think it must have been a combination of that. And where did you give them? At the school in the assembly. The one I remember most is this one about the evils of smoking, because it was like, ‘‘Oh, get out of here! Who are you? Where did you come from? Go back to that place.’’ But there were other things as well. The point is, there were people who helped to develop you. There were people who cared about you. There were people who really saw something in us. I guess that has been a real trait of my life, all of my growing up. I think that I saw it in my family. I was expected to do things. I saw it in my church. I saw it in my school, in the community, that with all the stuff we did, all the childish stuff we did, there was still always a message that was underscored in almost like ever increasing concentric circles from all of these sources, that we were expected to achieve and to accomplish, and that, yes, you can. My father used to have a saying, ‘‘There’s no such word as can’t.’’ Of course, I’ve learned now that there is such a word as can’t, and you sure the hell better know when to invoke it. [Laughter.] But some of those ideas have been very helpful to some of these real tough situations I’ve been in. As you said, the ﬁrst black, the ﬁrst black, the ﬁrst black. Some of those ideas were what helped me to survive. Do you remember your father or your parents talking about segregation? Not a lot. I remember feeling angrier about it than they, and, as I said, it didn’t consciously affect me a lot, but I remember smarting when I did come into contact with it. I found myself smarting at what would be little put-downs of my parents. One of the things when my father became a presiding elder and we had to move to the country, we had to get a car. We hadn’t had a car before. So we were living now, as I said, in this place, and my father, the car he got, I am pretty sure it was an old Cadillac, but it was an old one. At one point, Mr. Cameron was calling because my father was going to get gas on his account or something at the ﬁlling station out on the highway, and I remember him saying something about the car and about how old it was. You know, it seemed to me a lot of gratuitous comments. I don’t know why I happened to be in earshot of it, but I just remember that. It just seemed like kind of a—I don’t know what, it wasn’t about black people and Cadillacs, but it was something that I felt put down by. But my family—I don’t remember a lot of talking about race and segregation. My sense from them was, and as I said, I felt kind of cheated that I didn’t have a lot of heart-to-hearts with my father, because by the time I was at the age where I could have begun to have

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them in some kind of reasonably adult manner, he was beginning to deteriorate physically. I don’t remember that we had many really substantive conversations, the kind I would have with my children or even that I started having with them. When does it start? In the late teens, I guess, when you make that switch from looking down at them to looking at them in a more lateral way. So I don’t remember having many talks about segregation, and I don’t remember my family being particularly socially conscious. What would be helpful to me is, as you think about some of these things, if you put some questions down that you’d like some more answers to. I will talk about some of this with my sisters. Okay. Great. And I’ll do some recording when I get to Louisville, because I need to do this for me, and I can also do it for you. I’m mindful of the time, so perhaps this is a place where we can stop for today.

Source: The Washington Press Club Foundation, Oral History Project, Women in Journalism. Copyright C 1994, Washington Press Club Foundation. Washington, DC. All Rights Reserved.

131. Oral History of Bassist Chuck Rainey, 1992 WILL LEE Twenty-ﬁve years after arriving in New York from Miami, Will Lee has established one of the most remarkable careers in bass history. He has played on over 1,000 albums as a ﬁrst-call studio musician, and several times during the last 15 years, he’s appeared on David Letterman’s nightly TV show. In addition, he balances parallel careers as a vocalist, producer, and solo artist. His debut album, Oh!, has been released in the U.S. He originally came to New York to play in the band Dreams— but Will didn’t realize the bassist he was replacing was Chuck Rainey. Will Lee, bass player (BP) interviewed Chuck Rainey (CR), the ‘‘Godfather of the Groove’’ and the interview appeared in Bass Player magazine in 1992. WL:

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You’ve said the only way to create something new today is to know what happened yesterday. With that in mind, let’s trace your roots. Where were you raised, and what are your earliest musical memories? I was born on June 17, 1940, in Cleveland, Ohio, and raised in nearby Youngstown. My mother and father were amateur musicians, so music was always in the house. My father was a Fats Waller/Art Tatum-style stride pianist, and my morn played piano and ﬂute. In addition to hearing them, I heard the early jazz, Dixieland, and ragtime records they would play, by people like Louis Armstrong, Earl ‘‘Fatha’’ Hines, and Ma Rainey [no relation]. I also loved listening to our church choir. I know you played trumpet before you played bass, as I did. When did your love affair with bass begin?

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Being a bass player was always in my spirit; it just took me a while to pick up on it. Initially, my sister and I took a few piano lessons, and then I played violin and viola in the 4th and 5th grades. I didn’t like it, though, and all the kids made fun of me. Shortly after, my uncle gave me a bugle, and I started playing trumpet in the 6th grade. I had good teachers, a strict father who made sure I practiced, and a wonderful musical environment—so I ended up in all the local marching and drum-corps bands, both in and out of school. In two of those outside bands there was an adult tuba player named Joe McCrae; we all looked up to Mr. McCrae because he was a great player, had the perfect attitude, and would always help us with section rehearsals. His tuba was also the ﬁrst bass-clef instrument I heard up dose, and I loved his beautiful, warm tone. I realize now he had a big inﬂuence on me. When I got to college, I joined the brass ensemble on baritone horn. I had also brieﬂy played upright bass in high school, and I sang bass in a vocal group—so I was deﬁnitely zeroing in on my love for the lower register. Finally, while on duty in the military reserves, I learned to play guitar; when I returned home, I joined a band that had three guitarists and a drummer. To complement the other guitars, I found myself starting to play moving lines on the lower strings, just to keep the rhythm going. The more I did it, the more they liked it, and gradually I started lowering my E, A, and D strings. How did you acquire your ﬁrst electric bass? I had seen an electric at a Hank Ballard & the Midnighters dance, and a local gospel group had one—but it really didn’t register until I saw a bass in the movie Rock, Rock, Rock. Shortly after that, my mother and I went over to a local music store that had a ‘57 P-Bass in the window. This was 1961, and the owner was elated because it had been hanging there for four years. I got the bass and a 50-watt Fender Bassman 2 12 amp, all for $375. From that point, the sky opened up. I was the only guy in the area with a Fender bass, so I became very busy. Between the sound and the look, the bass gave a lot of attention to bands I played in; people would come by just to see it. And when acts from Detroit or Chicago came through town and needed someone to play it, everyone would steer them to me. That’s how I landed my ﬁrst major gig with [saxophonist] Big Jay McNeely. Someone told him about me, and I didn’t have a phone, so he came and knocked on my door. Talk about opportunity knocking! Up until that point, I had been using a pick—but I wasn’t able to play some of the things I was hearing, so I threw it away and switched to plucking with my thumb. But I had trouble swinging with my thumb; I couldn’t get the accents on my walking lines, and I couldn’t play descending triplets—so I switched to my index ﬁnger. Who were your early bass inﬂuences?

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I had heard a number of blues artists, like Elmore James and Muddy Waters, and they would always have a second guitar sort of playing a bass line. When Jimmy Smith’s The Sermon [Blue Note] came out in 1958, I listened to it over and over because his organ bass lines were so dear and strong. I was also checking out great upright bassists, like Keter Betts, Ray Brown, and Percy Heath. Everything changed when I heard Motown on the radio. In terms of me playing bass, Jamerson gave me the keys to get into the house. In those days, I had to play a lot of Top-40 music, which meant a lot of Motown—and every time I had to learn one of [his] lines, it would kick me in the butt and open my eyes a little wider. That really motivated me to study and evaluate what could be done with the instrument. Even though later events contributed to my approach on the instrument, I would certainly describe myself as a Jamerson-type bassist. I have a lot of his motion and sound in my style. Did you ever get to know Jamerson? I knew who he was as far back as 1959, because the Motown acts used to tour all around the Great Lakes area. We ﬁrst met at a huge concert in Ohio in the early ‘60s; I was playing with Big Jay McNeely and he was with the Miracles. Someone in the previous band had borrowed my amp and blown the speakers—so I plugged in and just pretended to play. Afterwards, James came up and told me I should have plugged into his amp, which was right next to mine. I appreciated that, and since then I’ve done the same for other bassists. We kept in touch over the years, although we didn’t get to hang out regularly until we both lived in L.A. in the early ‘70s. When I’d go to his house, he’d always be cooking something and we would talk shop. In retrospect, when he left Detroit he might have been better off going to New York or Philly, where a lot of his crew of musicians and arrangers ended up. He never quite seemed to ﬁt in with the L.A. crowd. James was headstrong, but I admired him for it. He felt the upright was the real bass. I remember bringing him to B.I.T. for an electric bass clinic, and he promptly told the audience to forget the electric and learn the upright. I knew him too well to be offended, though! He also felt there would be no Fender bass if it weren’t for him, and if you consider his accomplishments at Motown, he was probably right. One of your more notable King Curtis gigs was a cross-country tour with the Beatles in 1965. What was that like? Unbelievable! Curtis was hired to open the shows with a couple of songs and then back up about six artists; then there were two English bands, including the Hollies, and the Beatles would play the last hour. Initially we weren’t familiar with the Beatles, so we had no idea of their magnitude until the ﬁrst show in front of a packed house of

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screaming fans at Shea Stadium. From there it snowballed. We had a police escort all the way down to the Spectrum in Philadelphia. Then we started ﬂying on special chartered jets, and wherever we landed there were thousands of people waiting. I remember the plane once screeching to a halt and everyone being thrown forward, because the crowd had broken down the fence and was attacking the plane! Anytime we would pass a part of the audience on our way to the stage, people would be scratching at us, pulling our hair, tearing off pieces of clothing—and we were just the opening band! It became routine to see hundreds of passed-out girls laid out in designated areas. Did you meet the lads: For some reason, Paul and Ringo were very rude; they stayed on a separate ﬂoor in the hotels and in their own part of the plane, and they never talked to anybody. John and George, on the other hand, always hung out. They told jokes, played cards, and were always in our part of the plane or bringing champagne to our hotel rooms. I must say that as a band they were impeccable; we gained the utmost respect for them. They sang in perfect harmony, and the guitars, bass, and drums were right on. You gave R&B, and groove playing in general, a fresh sound—and an approach on which I’ve humbly based my entire career. Would you say your style came together in New York? Without a doubt. In New York, the drummers were playing with a 16th-note feel; that awakened a similar rhythmic sense in me, rooted in both my drum and bugle-corps background and my exposure to rag music early on. I hear all the stuff between the notes when I play—like the tuba’s funky two-feel in a Dixieland brass band, or the high-tom parts in a drum corps. All those in-between rhythms and ghost notes provide the nuances that give a groove that swinging, push-pull feel. In Detroit, Benny Benjamin and Pistol Allen weren’t playing as busily as the New York drummers—so I was able to clearly hear all of those rhythms coming from Jamerson. I’ve always described myself as a busy player, but not ‘‘busy#x0201D; as in playing a lot of notes. I’m rhythmically active—almost like a drummer playing bass. I hear you loud and clear there. I’ve always wanted to ask you about the chordal stuff you play in the upper register, like your classic tritone lick on Roberta Flack’s ‘‘Reverend Lee’’ [Chapter Two, Atlantic]. I got that from a bassist named Mervin Brunson, who followed me in King Curtis’s band and who later worked with Larry Coryell. I walked into Small’s in Harlem one night while Don Gardner and DeeDee Ford were singing a ballad, and Mervin threw in a riff that ended with a high G and B against his open A string, for an Am9-type chord. That slayed me! I immediately split and went back to my room, grabbed my bass, and worked it out; from there, I started ﬁguring out all the other

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chordal possibilities. The hardest part about using chords was learning when not to play them! That section became legendary as Aretha Franklin’s recording and touring band. What stands out about that period? Aretha’s brilliant singing, as well as the band’s ability to thoroughly kick ass every time we played. The tours in the early ‘70s were some of the most exciting times of my life. What I’ll always remember are the opening moments of those shows: The house would be dark while the sound system blared the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Then Aretha would walk out onstage in her gown and furs, and we would play the ﬁrst few notes of ‘‘Rock Steady.’’ The crowd would go insane, and I would feel the blood rushing to my head! On the ﬁrst session I ever did with Bernard Purdie, I noticed he listened to the song and let the melody and lyrics dictate his drum part, as opposed to just bashing away. That forever changed the way I approached my role. Is that how the two of you came up with your grooves? Absolutely—it was all based on the song and the artist. We would try to create a groove that would both complement and serve the melody and the lyric. I wouldn’t just try to lock into Bernard’s kick pattern; I’d listen to the rhythm of his whole kit, and I’d ﬁnd something to play off. Fortunately, we had a special chemistry, so everything would fall into place pretty easily. Back in those days, an artist would sing the song as many times as was needed to get a take. Sometimes Bernard would ask for a certain section to be sung over and over until we all felt comfortable with our parts. A lot of the bassists played with a pick, so they had a clicky, twangier sound. I switched to round-wound strings, and I even had a DeArmond pickup installed by the bridge of my P-Bass for a while to get more of that snappy tone. But it wasn’t just the bass players; the whole sound coming off the board was much brighter than in New York. On the business side, there were a few ploys I didn’t care for. If someone wanted you on a record date and another person on the project wanted a different bassist, sometimes that person would call and book you on a bogus session that took place at the same time. Then, when he got the player he wanted, he’d cancel you on the fake session, and you would end up with nothing. The other hassle I ran into was bassists—and I mean notable bassists—taking credit for something I had played on. I was sort of a maverick in town, because I worked as an independent contractor, and I refused to be pushed into any cliques. Overall, though, I have fond memories of my time in L.A. The only downside was that my chops suffered, because I wasn’t working as much or enjoying the playing as much as I did in New York. I had the honor of playing with many great drummers in L.A., such as Earl Palmer, Hal Blaine, and Johnny Guerin. Probably my favorite experiences were working with Jeff Porcaro or Bernard Purdie; the two of them

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were perfect. Some drummers were stiff and played in a way that demanded you follow them, but Jeff and Bernard were loose, and they played with nuance. They went with the ﬂow and never forced you to play in a certain way. I got to work with both of them on the Steely Dan albums. Overall, it was quite pleasurable. They had great budgets, which meant they paid well and always had great musicians and sound people involved. They never kept you more than six hours, and half the time you did nothing. On top of that, they’re great writers, so the music was always interesting. As for the bass lines, Walter would either write parts or have ideas for most of the songs, but he and Donald always gave me plenty of creative freedom. An example would be ‘‘Peg’’ [on Aja]: Walter came up with the verse bass line, but the introduction and chorus parts were mine. Looking back on their albums, I liked the ﬁrst two [Pretzel Logic and Katy Lied] the least; I enjoyed The Royal Scam and Gaucho, but my favorite was Aja. Who are your favorite bassists? There are so many I admire, from when I started right up to the many brilliant young players today. To name one would mean leaving out a dozen. But the three who stand out for me are Jamerson, Buster Williams—my all-time favorite upright bassist—and Paul Jackson. Paul is probably the baddest cat I’ve ever seen on the electric, and he sings as well as anyone out there. People associate him with the Headhunters, but that wasn’t the true Paul; I heard him prior to that in his native Oakland. The bass players from there—Larry Graham and Rocco Prestia, to name a couple—have a special approach to music. Paul lives in Japan now, and I’ve seen him the last two times I’ve been on tours over there. You seem to have chosen a similar path for your own future? That’s correct. Working with longtime clients and meeting new artists and producers as a sideman is something I hope to do always, but I’m also working on my own project. I would describe it as a contemporary jazz-fusion instrumental record featuring the bass—although it’s not an album of bass solos. I’ve got a lot of music in my head, and I think I have much to offer in the way of melodies. The reason I’m so dissatisﬁed with my past solo records is I was always pushed to ﬁnish them or had to compromise in some way. This time, I’ll have complete autonomy on all decisions, from the musical content to the sound of my bass in the mix, because I’ve assembled my own studio. I also want to put together a band and go out on the road, the way artists like George Benson, Joe Sample, and Herbie Mann do. People have heard my bass for years—now I want them to hear my music.

Source: Bass Player, 1992. NewBay Media, LLC.

132. Minister Louis Farrakhan Challenges Black Men

132. Minister Louis Farrakhan Challenges Black Men—remarks made during the Million Man March, October 17, 1995 This is a transcript from Nation of Islam leader Louis Farrakhan’s remarks at the Million Man March in Washington, D.C., in 1995. In the name of Allah, the beneﬁcent, the merciful. We thank Him for his prophets, and the scriptures which they brought. We thank him for Moses and the Torah. We thank him for Jesus and the Gospel. We thank him for Muhammad Koran. Peace be upon these worthy servants of Allah. I am so grateful to Allah for his intervention in our affairs in the person of Master Farad Muhammad the Great Madi, who came among us and raised from among us a divine leader, teacher and guide, his messenger to us the Most Honorable Elijah Muhammad. I greet all of you, my dear and wonderful brothers, with the greeting words of peace. We say it in the Arabic language, Asalam Eleecum. I would like to thank all of those known and unknown persons who worked to make this day of atonement and reconciliation a reality. My thanks and my extreme gratitude to the Reverend Benjamin Chavis and to all of the members of the national organizing committees. To all of the local organizing committees, to Dr. Dorothy Height in the National Council of Negro Women, and all of the sisters who were involved in the planning of the Million Man March. Of course, if I named all those persons whom I know helped to make this event a reality, it would take a tremendous amount of time. But sufﬁce it to say that we are grateful to all who made this day possible. I’m looking at the Washington Monument and beyond it to the Lincoln Memorial. And, beyond that, to the left, to your right, the Jefferson Memorial. Abraham Lincoln was the 16th President of these United States and he was the man who allegedly freed us. Abraham Lincoln saw in his day, what President Clinton sees in this day. He saw the great divide between black and white. Abraham Lincoln and Bill Clinton see what the Kerner Commission saw 30 years ago when they said that this nation was moving toward two Americas—one Black, one White, separate and unequal. And the Kerner Commission revisited their ﬁndings 25 years later and saw that America was worse today than it was in the time of Martin Luther King, Jr. There’s still two Americas, one Black, one White, separate and unequal. Abraham Lincoln, when he saw this great divide, he pondered a solution of separation. Abraham Lincoln said he never was in favor of our being jurors or having equal status with the Whites of this nation. Abraham Lincoln said that if there were to be a superior or inferior, he would rather the superior position be assigned to the White race. There, in the middle of this mall is the Washington Monument, 555 feet high. But if we put a one in front of that 555 feet, we get 1555, the year that our ﬁrst fathers landed on the shores of Jamestown, Virginia as slaves. In the background is the Jefferson and Lincoln Memorial, each one of these monuments is 19 feet high. Abraham Lincoln, the sixteenth president. Thomas Jefferson, the third president, and 16 and three make 19 again. What is so deep about this number 19? Why are we standing on the Capitol steps today? That number 19—when you have a nine you have a womb that is pregnant. And when you have a one standing by the nine, it means that there’s something secret that has to be unfolded.

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Right here on this mall where we are standing, according to books written on Washington, D.C., slaves used to be brought right here on this Mall in chains to be sold up and down the eastern seaboard. Right along this mall, going over to the White House, our fathers were sold into slavery. But, George Washington, the ﬁrst president of the United States, said he feared that before too many years passed over his head, this slave would prove to become a most troublesome species of property. Thomas Jefferson said, he trembled for this country when he reﬂected that God was just and that his justice could not sleep forever. Well, the day that these presidents feared has now come to pass, for on this mall, here we stand in the capital of America. and the layout of this great city, laid out by a Black man, Benjamin Banneker. This is all placed and based in a secret Masonic ritual. And at the core of the secret of that ritual is the Black man, not far from here is the White House. And the ﬁrst president of this land, George Washington, who was a grand master of the Masonic order laid the foundation, the cornerstone of this capitol building where we stand. George was a slave owner. George was a slave owner. Now, the President spoke today and he wanted to heal the great divide. But I respectfully suggest to the President, you did not dig deep enough at the malady that divides Black and White in order affect a solution to the problem. And so, today, we have to deal with the root so that perhaps a healing can take place. Now, this obelisk at the Washington Monument is Egyptian and this whole layout is reminiscent of our great historic past, Egypt. And, if you look at the original Seal of the United States, published by the Department of State in 1909. Gaylord Hunt wrote that late in the afternoon of July 4, 1776, the Continental Congress resolved that Dr. Benjamin Franklin, Mr. John Adams, and Mr. Thomas Jefferson be a committee to prepare a device for a Seal of the United States of America. In the design proposed by the ﬁrst committee, the face of the Seal was a coat of arms measured in six quarters. That number is signiﬁcant. Six quarters, with emblems representing England, Scotland, Ireland, France, Germany and Holland, the countries from which the new nation had been peopled. The eye of providence in a radiant triangle and the motto, ‘‘E Pluribus Unum’’ were also proposed for the face of the Seal. Even the country was populated by so-called Indians and Black Slaves were brought to build the country, the ofﬁcial Seal of the country was never designed to reﬂect our presence, only that of the European immigrants. The Seal and the Constitution reﬂect the thinking of the founding fathers, that this was to be a nation by White people and for White people. Native Americans, Blacks, and all other non-White people were to be the burden bearers for the real citizens of this nation. For the back of the Seal the committee suggested a picture of Pharoah sitting in an open chariot with a crown on his head and a sword in his hand, passing through the divided waters of the Red Sea, in pursuit of the Israelites. And, hovering over the sea was to be shown a pillar of ﬁre in a cloud, expressive of the divine presence and command. And raised from this pillar of ﬁre were to be shown, beaming down on Moses standing on the shore, extending his hand over the sea, causing it to overwhelm Pharoah. The motto for the reverse was, ‘‘Rebellion To Tyrants Is Obedience To God.’’ Let me say it again. Rebellion is obedience to God. Now, why did they mention Pharaoh? I heard the President say to today E Pluribus Unum—out of many, one.

132. Minister Louis Farrakhan Challenges Black Men

But in the past, out of many comes one meant out of many Europeans come one people. The question today is, out of the many Asians, the many Arabs, the many Native Americans, the many Blacks, the many people of color who populate this country. Do you mean for them to be made into the one? If so, truth has to be spoken to justice. We can’t cover things up. Cover them over. Give it a pretty sound to make people feel good. We have to go to the root of the problem. Now, why have you come today? You came not at the call of Louis Farrakhan, but you have gathered here at the call of God. For it is only the call of Almighty God, no matter through whom that call came, that could generate this kind of outpouring. God called us here to this place. At this time. For a very speciﬁc reason. And now, I want to say, my brothers—this is a very pregnant moment. Pregnant with the possibility of tremendous change in our status in America and in the world. And although the call was made through me, many have tried to distance the beauty of this idea from the person through whom the idea and the call was made. Some have done it mistakenly. And others have done it in a malicious and vicious manner. Brothers and sisters, there is no human being through whom God brings an idea that history doesn’t marry the idea with that human being no matter what defect was that human being’s character. You can’t separate Newton from the law that Newton discovered, nor can you separate Einstein from the theory of relativity. It would be silly to try to separate Moses from the Torah or Jesus from the Gospel or Muhammad from the Koran. When you say Farrakhan, you ain’t no Moses, you ain’t no Jesus, and you’re not no Muhammad. You have a defect in your character. Well, that certainly may be so, however, according to the way the Bible reads, there is no prophet of God written of in the Bible that did not have a defect in his character. But, I have never heard any member of the faith of Judaism separate David from the Psalms, because of what happened in David’s life and you’ve never separated Solomon from the building of the Temple because they say he had a thousand concubines, and you never separated any of the Great Servants of God. So today, whether you like it or not, God brought the idea through me and he didn’t bring it through me because my heart was dark with hatred and anti-semitism, he didn’t bring it through me because my heart was dark and I’m ﬁlled with hatred for White people and for the human family of the planet. If my heart were that dark, how is the message so bright, the message so clear, the response so magniﬁcent? (APPLAUSE) So, we stand here today at this historic moment. We are standing in the place of those who couldn’t make it here today. We are standing on the blood of our ancestors. We are standing on the blood of those who died in the middle passage, who died in the ﬁelds and swamps of America, who died hanging from trees in the South, who died in the cells of their jailers, who died on the highways and who died in the fratricidal conﬂict that rages within our community. We are standing on the sacriﬁce of the lives of those heroes, our great men and women that we today may accept the responsibility that life imposes upon each traveler who comes this way. We must accept the responsibility that God has put upon us, not only to be good husbands and fathers and builders of our community, but God is now calling upon the despised and the rejected to become the cornerstone and the builders of a new world.

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And so, our brief subject today is taken from the American Constitution. In these words, Toward a more union. Toward a more perfect union. Now, when you use the word more with perfect that which is perfect is that which has been brought to completion. So, when you use more perfect, you’re either saying that what you call perfect is perfect for that stage of its development but not yet complete. When Jefferson said, ‘‘toward a more perfect union,’’ he was admitting that the union was not perfect, that it was not ﬁnished, that work had to be done. And so we are gathered here today not to bash somebody else. We’re not gathered here to say all of the evils of this nation. But we are gathered here to collect ourselves for a responsibility that God is placing on our shoulders to move this nation toward a more perfect union. Now, when you look at the word toward, it means in the direction of, in furtherance or partial fulﬁllment of, with the view to obtaining or having shortly before coming soon, eminent, going on in progress. Well, that’s right. We’re in progress toward a perfect union. Union means bringing elements or components into unity. It is something formed by uniting two or more things. It is a number of persons, states, etcetera, which are joined or associated together for some common purpose. We’re not here to tear down America. America is tearing itself down. We are here to rebuild the wasted cities. What we have in the word toward is motion. The honorable Elijah Muhammad taught us that motion is the ﬁrst law of the universe. This motion which takes us from one point to another shows that we are evolving and we are a part of a universe that is ever evolving. We are on an evolutionary course that will bring us to perfect or completion of the process toward a perfect union with God. In the word toward there is a law and that law is everything that is crated is in harmony with the law of evolution, change. Nothing is standing still. It is either moving toward perfection or moving toward disintegration. Or under certain circumstances doing both things at the same time. The word for this evolutionary changing affecting stage after stage until we reach perfection. In Arabic it is called Rhab. And from the word Rhab you get the Rhaby or teacher, one who nourishes a people from one stage and brings them to another stage. Well, if we are in motion and we are, motion toward perfection and we are, there can be no motion toward perfection without the Lord, who created the law of evolution. And is the master of the changes. Our ﬁrst motion then must be toward the God, who created the law of the evolution of our being. And if our motion toward him is right and proper, then our motion toward a perfect union with each other and government and with the peoples of the world will be perfected. So, let us start with a process leading to that perfect union must ﬁrst be seen. Now, brothers and sisters, the day of atonement is established by God to help us achieve a closer tie with the source of wisdom, knowledge, understanding and power. For it is only through a closer union or tie with him, who created us all, with him who has power over all things that we can draw power, knowledge, wisdom and understanding from him, that we may be enabled to change the realities of our life. A perfect union with God is the idea at the base of atonement. Now, atonement demands of us eight steps, in fact, atonement is the ﬁfth step in an eight stage process. Look at our division, not here, out there. We are a people, who have been fractured, divided and destroyed because of our division now must move toward a

132. Minister Louis Farrakhan Challenges Black Men

perfect union. But let’s look at a speech delivered by a White slave holder on the banks of the James River in 1712. Sixty-eight years before our former slave masters permitted us to join the Christian faith. Listen to what he said. He said, ‘‘In my bag I have a fool proof method of controlling black slaves. I guarantee everyone of you, if installed correctly, it will control the slaves for at least 300 years. My method is simple. Any member of your family or your overseer can use it. I have outlined a number of differences among the slaves and I take these differences and I make them bigger. I use fear, distrust, and envy for control purposes.’’ I want you to listen. What are those three things? Fear, envy, distrust. For what purpose? Control. To control who? The slave. Who is the slave? Us. Listen, he said, These methods have worked on my modest plantation in the West Indies and they will work throughout the south. Now, take this simple little list and think about it. On the top of my list is age. But it’s only there because it starts with an A. And the second is color or shade. There’s intelligence, sex, size of plantation, status of plantation, attitude of owners, whether the slaves live in the valley or on a hill, north, east, south or west, have ﬁne hair or course hair, or is tall or short. Now that you have a list of differences I shall give you an outline of action. But before that, I shall assure you that distrust is stronger than trust. And envy is stronger than adulation, respect, or admiration. The black slave after receiving this indoctrination shall carry it on and will become self-refueling and self-generating for hundreds of years. Maybe thousands of years. Now don’t forget, you must pitch the old black male against the young black male. And the young black male against the old black male. You must use the female against the male. And you must use the male against the female. You must use the dark skinned slave against the light skinned slave. And the light skinned slave against the dark skinned slave. You must also have your white servants and overseers distrust all blacks. But it is necessary that your slaves trust and depend on us. They must love, respect, and trust only us.’’ ‘‘Gentlemen, these keys are your keys to control. Use them. Never miss an opportunity. And if used intensely for one year, the slaves themselves will remain perpetually distrustful. Thank you, gentlemen.’’ End of quote. So spoke Willie Lynch 283 years ago. And so, as a consequence, we as a people now have been fractured, divided and destroyed, ﬁlled with fear, distrust and envy. Therefore, because of fear, envy and distrust of one another, many of us as leaders, teachers, educators, pastors and persons are still under the control mechanism of our former slave masters and their children. And now, in spite of all that division, in spite of all that divisiveness. we responded to a call and look at what is present here today. We have here those brothers with means and those who have no means. Those who are light and those who are dark. Those who are educated, those who are uneducated. Those who are business people, those who don’t know anything about business. Those who are young, those who are old. Those who are scientiﬁc, those who know nothing of science. Those who are religious and those who are irreligious. Those who are Christian, those who are Muslim, those who are Baptist, those who are Methodist, those who are Episcopalian, those of traditional African religion. We’ve got them all here today.

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And why did we come? We came because we want to move toward a more perfect union. And if you notice, the press triggered every one of those divisions. You shouldn’t come, you’re a Christian. That’s a Muslim thing. You shouldn’t come, you’re too intelligent to follow Hate! You shouldn’t come, look at what they did, they excluded women, you see? They played all the cards, they pulled all the strings. Oh, but you better look again, Willie. There’s a new Black man in America today. A new Black woman in America today. Now Brothers, there’s a social beneﬁt of our gathering here today. That is, that from this day forward, we can never again see ourselves through the narrow eyes of the limitation of the boundaries of our own fraternal, civic, political, religious, street organization or professional organization. We are forced by the magnitude of what we see here today, that whenever you return to your cities and you see a Black man, a Black woman, don’t ask him what is your social, political or religious afﬁliation, or what is your status? Know that he is your brother. You must live beyond the narrow restrictions of the divisions that have been imposed upon us. Well, some of us are here because it’s history making. Some of us are here because it’s a march through which we can express anger and rage with America for what she has and is doing to us. So, we’re here for many reasons but the basic reason while this was called was for atonement and reconciliation. So, it is necessary for me in as short of time as possible to give as full an explanation of atonement as possible. As I said earlier, atonement is the ﬁfth stage in an eight stage process. So, let’s go back to the ﬁrst stage of the process that brings us into perfect union with God. And the ﬁrst stage is the most difﬁcult of all because when we are wrong, and we are not aware of it, someone has to point out the wrong. I want to, I want to say this again, but I want to say it slowly. And I really want each one of these points to sink in. How many of us in this audience, at some time or another have been wrong? Would we just raise our hands? OK. Now, when we are wrong, Lord knows we want to be right. The most difﬁcult thing is when somebody points it out do we accept it, do we reject it, do we hate the person who pointed out our wrong. How do we treat the person who points out our wrong? Now, I want you to follow me. When you go to a doctor, you’re not feeling well, the doctor says, what’s wrong? Well, I don’t know, doc. Well, where is the pain? Tell me something about the symptoms. You want the doctor to make a correct diagnosis. You don’t smack the doctor when he points out what’s wrong. You don’t hate the doctor when he points out what’s wrong. You say, thank you, doctor. What’s my prescription for healing? We all right? Now, look, whoever is entrusted with the task of pointing out wrong, depending on the nature of the circumstances is not always loved. In fact, more than likely, that person is going to be hated and misunderstood. Such persons are generally hated because no one wants to be shown as being wrong. Particularly when you’re dealing with governments, with principalities, with powers, with rulers, with administrations. When you’re dealing with forces which have become entrenched in their evil, intractable and unyielding their power produces an arrogance. And their arrogance produces a blindness. And out of that evil state of mind, they will do all manner of evil to the person who points out their wrong. Even though you’re doing good for them by pointing out where America went wrong.

132. Minister Louis Farrakhan Challenges Black Men

Now, Martin Luther King, Jr. was probably the most patriotic of Americans. More patriotic than George Washington. More patriotic than Thomas Jefferson. More patriotic than many of the presidents because he had the courage to point out what was wrong in the society. And because he pointed out what was wrong, he was ill spoken of, viliﬁed, maligned, hated and eventually, murdered. Brother Malcolm had that same road to travel. He pointed out what was wrong in the society and he had to suffer for pointing out what was wrong and he ultimately died on the altar for pointing out what was wrong. Inside the Nation, outside the Nation, to the greater nation and to the smaller nation. We talking about moving toward a perfect union. Well, pointing out fault, pointing out our wrongs is the ﬁrst step. The second step is to acknowledge. Oh, thank you. Oh, man, I’m wrong. To acknowledge means to admit the existence, the reality or the truth of some reality. It is to recognize as being valid. Or having force and power. It is to express thanks, appreciation, or gratitude. So in this context, the word acknowledgement to be in a state of recognition of the truth of the fact that we have been wrong. This is the second step. Well, the third step is that after you know you’re wrong and you acknowledge it to yourself, who else knows it except you confess it. You say, well, yeah, all right. But who should I confess to? And why should I confess? And why should I confess? The Bible says confession is good for the soul. Now, brothers I know, I don’t have a lot of time, but the soul is the essence of a person’s being. And when the soul is covered with guilt from sin and wrongdoing, the mind and the actions of the person reﬂect the condition of the soul. So, to free the soul or the essence of man from its burden, one must acknowledge one’s wrong, but then one must confess. The Holy Koran says it like this: I’ve been greatly unjust to myself, and I confess my faults. So grant me protection against all my faults, for none grants protection against faults but Thee. It is only through confession that we can be granted protection from the consequences of our faults. For every deed has a consequence. And we can never be granted protection against the faults that we refuse to acknowledge or that we are unwilling to confess. So, look. Who should you confess to? I don’t want to confess. Who should you confess to? Who should I confess to? Who should we confess to? First, you confess to God. And everyone of us that are here today, that knows that we have done wrong. We have to go to God and speak to Him in the privacy of our rooms and confess. He already knows, but when you confess, you’re relieving your soul of the burden that it bears. But, then, the hardest part is to go to the person or persons whom your faults have ill-affected and confess to them. That’s hard. That’s hard. But, if we want a perfect union, we have to confess the fault. Well, what happens after confession? There must be repentance. When you repent, you feel remorse or contrition or shame for the past conduct which was and is wrong and sinful. It means to feel contrition or self-reproach for what one has done or failed to do. And, it is the experiencing of such regret for past conduct that involves the changing of our mind toward that sin. So, until we repent and feel sick, sorry over what we have done, we can never, never change our minds toward that thing. And if you don’t repent, you’ll do it over and over and over again. But to stop it where it is, and Black men, we got to stop what we’re doing where it is. We cannot continue

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the destruction of our lives and the destruction of our community. But that change can’t come until we feel sorry. I heard my brother from the West Coast say today, I atone to the mothers for the death of the babies caused by our senseless slaughter of one another. See, when he feels sorry deep down inside, he’s going to make a change. That man has a change in his mind. That man has a change in his heart. His soul has been unburdened and released from the pain of that sin, but you got to go one step further, because after you’ve acknowledged it, confessed it, repented, you’ve come to the ﬁfth stage. Now, you’ve got to do something about it. Now, look brother, sisters. Some people don’t mind confessing. Some people don’t mind making some slight repentance. But, when it comes to doing something about the evil that we’ve done we fall short. But, atonement means satisfaction or reparation for a wrong or injury. It means to make amends. It means penance, expiation, compensation and recompense made or done for an injury or wrong. So, atonement means we must be willing to do something in expiation of our sins so we can’t just have a good time today, and say we made history in Washington. We’ve got to resolve today that we’re going back home to do something about what’s going on in our lives and in our families and in our communities. Now, we all right? Can you hang with me a few more? Now, brothers and sisters, if we make atonement it leads to the sixth stage. And the sixth stage is forgiveness. Now, so many of us want forgiveness, but we don’t want to go through the process that leads to it. And so, when we say we forgive, we forgive from our lips, but we have never pardoned in the heart. So, the injury still remains. My dear family. My dear brothers. We need forgiveness. God is always ready to forgive us for our sins. Forgiveness means to grant pardon for, or remission of, an offense or sin. It is to absolve, to clear, to exonerate and to liberate. Boy, that’s something! See, you’re not liberated until you can forgive. You’re not liberated from the evil effect of our own sin until we can ask God for forgiveness and then forgive others, and this is why in the Lord’s Prayer you say, forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. So, it means to cease, to feel offense and resentment against another for the harm done by an offender. It means to wipe the slate clean. And then, that leads to the seventh stage. You know, I like to liken this to music. Because in music, the seventh note is called a leading tone. Do, re, me, fa, so, la, te.… You can’t stop there. Te. It leaves you hung up, te. What you got to get back to? Doe. So, whatever you started with when you reach the eight note, you’re back to where you started only at a higher vibration. Now, look at this. The seventh tone, the leading tone that leads to the perfect union with God is reconciliation and restoration because after forgiveness, now, we are going to be restored to what? To our original position. To restore, to reconcile means to become friendly, peaceable again, to put hostile persons into a state of agreement or harmony, to make compatible or to compose or settle what it was that made for division. It means to resolve differences. It can mean to establish or re-establish a close relationship between previously hostile persons. So, restoration means the act of returning something to an original or un-impaired condition. Now, when you’re backed to an impaired position, you have reached the eighth stage, which is perfect

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union. And when we go through all these steps, there is no difference between us that we can’t heal. There’s a balm in Gilead to heal the sin sick soul. There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole. We are a wounded people but we’re being healed, but President Clinton, America is also wounded. And there’s hostility now in the great divide between the people. Socially the fabric of America is being torn apart and it’s black against black, black against white, white against white, white against black, yellow against brown, brown against yellow. We are being torn a part. And we can’t gloss it over with nice speeches, my dear, Mr. President. Sir, with all due respect, that was a great speech you made today. And you praised the marchers and they’re worthy of praise. You honored the marchers and they are worthy of honor. But of course, you spoke ill indirectly of me, as a purveyor of malice and hatred. I must hasten to tell you, Mr. President, that I’m not a malicious person, and I’m not ﬁlled with malice. But, I must tell you that I come in the tradition of the doctor who has to point out, with truth, what’s wrong. And the pain is that power has made America arrogant. Power and wealth has made America spiritually blind and the power and the arrogance of America makes you refuse to hear a child of your slaves pointing out the wrong in your society. But, I think if you could clear the scales from your eyes, sir, and give ear to what we say, perhaps, oh perhaps, what these great speakers who spoke before me said, and my great and wonderful brother, the Reverend Jesse Jackson said, and perhaps, just perhaps from the children of slaves might come a solution to this Pharaoh and this Egypt as it was with Joseph when they had to get him out of prison and wash him up and clean him up because Pharaoh had some troubling dreams that he didn’t have any answer to. And he called his soothsayers and he called the people that read the stars and he called all his advisors, but nobody could help him to solve the problem. But he had to go to the children of slaves, because he heard that there was one in prison who knew the interpretation of dreams. And he said bring him, bring him and let me hear what he has to say. God has put it for you in the scriptures, Mr. President. Balshasar and Nebuchadnezer couldn’t read the handwriting on the wall. But, Daniel had to read the handwriting for him. Manne, manne, tek elauhu phossen. [It means] your kingdom has been weighed in the balance and has been found wanting. Do you want a solution to the dilemma that America faces? Then, don’t look at our skin color, because racism will cause you to reject salvation if it comes in the skin of a black person. Don’t look at the kinkiness of our hair and the broadness of our nose and the thickness of our lips, but listen to the beat of our hearts and the pulsating rhythm of the truth. Perhaps, perhaps, you might be as wise as that Pharaoh and save this great nation. And so, the eighth stage is perfect union with god. And in the Koran, it reads. ‘‘Oh soul that is at rest, well pleased with thy lord and well pleasing.’’ Oh, brothers, brothers, brothers, you don’t know what its like to be free. Freedom can’t come from white folks. Freedom can’t come from staying here and petitioning this great government. We’re here to make a statement to the great government, but not to beg them. Freedom cannot come from no one but the god who can liberate the soul from the burden of sin. And this is why Jesus said ‘‘come unto me’’, not some who are heavy laden, ‘‘but all that are heavy laden, and I will give you rest’’.

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But listen, all of these eight steps take place in a process called time. And whenever a nation is involved in sin to the point that god intends to judge and destroy that nation, he always sends someone to make that nation or people know their sins, to reﬂect on it, to acknowledge, to confess, to repent and to atone that they might ﬁnd forgiveness with god. America, oh America. This great city of Washington is like Jerusalem. And the Bible says ‘‘Jerusalem, oh Jerusalem, you that stoneth and killith the prophets of God.’’ Right from this beautiful Capitol and from the beautiful White House have come commands to kill the prophets. David’s trouble came from this house. Martin Luther King’s trouble came from this house. Malcolm’s trouble came from this house. W. E. B. Dubois’ trouble came from this house. And from this house, you stoned and killed the prophets of God that would have liberated Black people, liberated America. But I stand here today knowing, knowing that you are angry. That have my people have validated me. I don’t need you to validate me. I don’t need to be in any mainstream. I want to wash in the river of Jordan and the river that you see and the sea that is before us and behind us and around us. It’s validation. That’s the mainstream. You’re out of touch with reality. A few of you in a few smoke-ﬁlled rooms, calling that the mainstream while the masses of the people, white and black, red, yellow, and brown, poor and vulnerable are suffering in this nation. Well, America, great America. Like Jerusalem that stoned and killed the prophets of God. That a work has been done in you today unlike any work that’s ever been done in this great city. I wonder what you’ll say tomorrow? I wonder what you’ll write in your newspapers and magazines, tomorrow. Will you give God the glory? Will you give God the glory? Will you respect the beauty of this day? All of these black men that the world sees as savage, maniacal, and bestial. Look at them. A sea of peace. A sea of tranquility. A sea of men ready to come back to God. Settle their differences and go back home to turn our communities into decent and safe places to live. America. America, the beautiful. There’s no country like this on the earth. And certainly if I lived in another country, I might never have had the opportunity to speak as I speak today. I probably would have been shot outright and so would my brother, Jesse, and so would Molani Karenga and so would Dr. Ben Chavis and Reverend Al Sampson and the wonderful people that are here. But because this is America you allow me to speak even though you don’t like what I may say. Because this is America, that provision in the constitution for freedom of speech and freedom of assembly and freedom of religion, that is your saving grace. Because what you’re under right now is grace. And grace is the expression of divine love and protection which God bestows freely on people. God is angry, America. He’s angry, but His mercy is still present. Brothers and sisters look at the inﬂictions that have come upon us in the black community. Do you know why we’re being afﬂicted? God wants us to humble ourselves to the message that will make us atone and come back to Him and make ourselves whole again. But why is God afﬂicting America? Why is God afﬂicting the world? Why did Jesus say there would be wars and rumors of wars, and earthquakes in diverse places and pestilence and famine, and why did He say that these were just the beginning of sorrows?

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In the last ten years America has experienced more calamities than at any other time period in American history. Why America? God is angry. He’s not angry because you’re right. He’s angry because you’re wrong and you want to stone and kill the people who want to make you see you’re wrong. And so, the Bible says Elijah must ﬁrst come. Why should Elijah come? Elijah has the job of turning the hearts of the children back to their fathers, and the father’s heart back to the children. Elijah becomes an axis upon which people turn back to God and God turns back to the people. And that’s why it said Elijah must ﬁrst come. And so, here we are, 400 years, fulﬁlling Abraham’s prophecy. Some of our friends in the religious community have said, why should you take atonement? That was for the children of Israel. I say yes, it was. But atonement for the children of Israel preﬁgured our suffering here in America. Israel was in bondage to Pharaoh 400 years. We’ve been in America 440 years. They were under afﬂiction. We’re under afﬂiction. They’re under oppression. We’re under oppression. God said that nation which they shall serve, I will judge. Judgment means God is making a decision against systems, against institutions, against principalities and powers. And that’s why Paul said, we war not against ﬂesh and blood, but against principalities and powers, and the rulers of the darkness of this world and spiritual wickedness in high places. God is sending his decision. I can’t help it. If I’ve got to make the decision known. You don’t understand me. My people love me. And yet, I point out the evils of Black people like no other leader does, but my people don’t call me anti-Black, because they know I must love them in order to point out what’s wrong so we can get it right to come back into the favor of God! But, let me say in truth, you can’t point out wrong with malice. You can’t point out wrong with hatred. Because, if we point out wrong with bitterness and hatred, then the bitterness and the hatred becomes a barrier between you and the person whom you hope to get right, that they might come into the favor of God. So, we ask Muslims who, in our ﬁrst stage, yeah, we pointed out the wrong of America, but we didn’t point it out with no love, we point it out with the pain of our hurt. The pain of our suffering. The bitterness of our life story. But, we have grown beyond our bitterness. We have transcended beyond our pain. Why? It’s easy for us to say, the White man did this, the White man that, the White man did the other, he deprived us of that. He killed the Indians. He did this. Yes, he did all of that. But, why did God let him do that? That’s the bigger question. And since we are not man enough to question God, we start beating up on the agent who is fulﬁlling prophesy. But, if we can transcend our pain to get up into God’s mind, and ask God, God, why did you let our fathers come into bondage? God, why did you let us die in the Middle Passage? God, why did you suffer us to be in the hull of ships? God, why did you let him lash us, why did you let him beat us, why did you let him castrate us? Why did you let him hang us? Why did you let him burn us? Why, God, why, why, why? We got a right to question God. That’s the only way we can become wise. And if we question him like Job did, God may bring you up into his own thinking. And if God were to answer us today he would say to Black people, yes, I allowed this to happen. And I know you suffered, but Martin King, my servant, said it, undeserved suffering is redemptive. A whole world is lost, not just you Black people. A whole world has gone out of the way, not just you Black people. You the lost sheep, but the whole world is lost. You the bottom rail, but the one that put the you on the bottom is in the bottom with you holding you down. He’s in the bottomless pit himself.

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He said, Black Man, I love you. He said, but God, I mean, that’s a heck of a way to show me you love me. He said, but I love my son. I love Jesus more than I love any of our servants. But I had a cross for him. I had nails for him. I had him to be rejected and despised. I had him falsely accused and brought before the courts of men. I had them spit on him. I had them to pierce his side. But, I loved him more than anybody else. Why, God?! Why did you do it? Why? He said, I did it that I might be gloriﬁed, because like Jew, no matter what I did to him, he never cursed me, he never said My God ain’t no good. He said whatever your will is, that’s what I want to do and that’s why, even though he descended into Hell, I have raised him to the limitless heights of Heaven, because only those who know the depths of Hell can appreciate the limitless heights of Heaven. And so, my children, I caused you to suffer in the furnace of afﬂiction so that I might purify you and resurrect you from a grave of death and ignorance. I, God, put in your soul, not a law written on stone, but I have written the law on the tablets of your heart. So, I’m going to make a new covenant with you. Oh, Black Man. The secret of the Masonic Order is the secret of Hirem Obid (ph). The secret of the Masonic Order is a master builder that was hit in the head. The secret of the Masonic Order is a master that rufﬁans roughed up. I think one of the rufﬁans was named Jubilo (ph) Furhman (ph). And another was named Jubilah (ph) Bilbow (ph). And another one was named Juilum (ph) Jesse Helms. These racists hit him in his head and carried him on a westerly course and buried him in the north country, in a shallow grave. Many tried to raise him up but they didn’t have the master grip. It would take a master to come after him. And this is why Matthew said, ‘‘as lightening shines from the east, even unto the west, so shall the coming of the son of man be for whatsoever, the eagles are gathered together, there shall the carcass be.’’ Here’s the carcass, the remains of a once mighty people, dry bones in the valley, a people slain from the foundation of the world. But God has sent the winds to blow on the bones. One of those winds is named Gingrich. And the companion wind is named Dole. And the other is called Supreme Court decision. The other is fratracidal conﬂict, drugs and dope and violence and crime. But we’ve had enough now. This is why you’re in Washington today. We’ve had enough. We’ve had enough distress, enough afﬂiction. We’re ready to bow down now. If my people, who are called by my name would just humble themselves and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven, forgive their sins, heal their land. You are ready now to come out of your furnace of afﬂiction. You are ready now to accept the responsibility, oh, not just of the ghetto. God wants to purify you and lift you up, that you may call America and the world to repentance. Black man, you are a master builder, but you got hit in the head. Black men, you’re the descendants of the builders of the pyramids. But you have amnesia now. You can’t remember how you did it. But the Master has come. You know, pastors, I love that scripture where Jesus told his disciples, go there and you’ll see an ass and a colt tied with her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anybody ask you what you’re doing, because it may look like you’re stealing and you know they are going to accuse you of stealing, tell them the Master got need of these. And Jesus rode into Jerusalem on an ass. The Democratic Party has for its symbol, a donkey. The donkey stands for the unlearned masses of the people. But the Democratic Party can’t call them asses no

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more. You got them all tied up, but you’re not using. The donkey is tied up. But can you get off today? No, I can’t get off, I’m tied up. Somebody on your donkey? Well, yeah. I got a master. He rides me like the Master rode Balem’s ass, you know. But, hail, the ass is now talking with a man’s voice. And the ass wants to throw the rider off, because he got a new rider today. If anybody ask you, tell them the Master has need. Look at you. Oh, I don’t know what the number is. It’s too much for me to count. But I think they said it’s a million and a half, or two. I don’t know how many. But you know, I called for a million. When I saw the word go out my mouth, I looked at it. I said oh my God! It just came out of my mouth. I didn’t know. And after it came out, I said well I got to go with it. And, I’m so glad I did. People told me you better change that ﬁgure to one more realistic. And I should have changed it to the Three Million Man March. Now, we’re almost ﬁnished. I want to take one last look at the word atonement. The ﬁrst four letters of the word form the foundation; ‘‘a-t-o-n’’ … ‘‘a-ton’’, ‘‘a-ton’’ … In the 18th dynasty, a Pharaoh named Akhenaton, was the ﬁrst man of this history period to destroy the pantheon of many gods and bring the people to the worship of one god. And that one god was symboled by a sun disk with 19 rays coming out of that sun with hands holding the Egyptian Ankh—the cross of life. A-ton. The name for the one god in ancient Egypt. A- ton, the one god. 19 rays. Look at your scripture. A woman, remember the nine, means somebody pregnant, with an idea. But, in this case, its a woman pregnant with a male child destined to rule the nations with a rod of iron. God is standing over her womb, and this child will be like the day sun, and he will say ‘‘I am the light of the world.’’ Hands coming out of that sun, come unto me all ye that are heavy laden. I’m gonna give you rest, but I’m gonna give you life, because I am the resurrection and the life and if you believe in me, though you are dead, yet shall you live again. You’re dead, Black man. But if you believe in the god who created this sun of truth and of light with 19 rays, meaning he’s pregnant with God’s spirit, God’s life, God’s wisdom. Abraham Lincoln’s statue, 19 feet high, 19 feet wide. Jefferson, 19 feet high, 16 (OFF-MIKE) and the third president, 19. Standing on the steps of the Capitol, in the light of the sun. Offering life to a people who are dead. Black man, the a-ton represents the one God. In the Koran, Muhammad is called a light giving son. So if you look at the aton, add an ‘‘e’’ to it, and separate the ‘‘a’’ from the next four letters and you get the word a tone. A tone means sound. And ‘‘a’’, the ﬁrst letter of the alphabet and the ﬁrst letter of the numerical system is one. So ‘‘a’’ equals one. So ‘‘a’’ sound means when you hear the ‘‘a’’ tone, you will hear the right sound. And when you hear the right sound from the one God calling you to divine life, you will respond. So what is the ‘‘a’’ tone? In music, a tone equals 440 vibrations. How long have we been in America? Four hundred and forty years. Well, in the 440th year, from the one God, the aton will become the a tone and all of us got to tune up our lives by the sound of the a tone. Because we’ve got to atone for all that we have done wrong. And when you atone, if you take the ‘‘t’’ and couple it with the ‘‘a’’ and hyphenate it, you get at one. So when you atone you become at one. At one with who? The aton or the one God. Because you heard the a tone and you tuned up your life and now you’re ready to make a new beginning. So when you get at one, you get the next two letters. It is ‘‘m’’ ‘‘e’’. Me. Who is it that has to atone?

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(AUDIENCE): FARRAKHAN: (AUDIENCE): FARRAKHAN: (AUDIENCE): FARRAKHAN: (AUDIENCE): FARRAKHAN: (AUDIENCE): FARRAKHAN:

Me. Who went wrong? Me. Who got to ﬁx it? Me. Who should we look to? Me. Yes! And then if you add, if you add another letter to ‘‘me’’ you get an ‘‘n’’. What does that say? Men. So Farrakhan called men. Why did you call men? Because in the beginning, God made man. And if we are at a new beginning, we got to make a man all over again, but make him in the image and the likeness of God.

Now, if you add the ‘‘t’’ on, you get the sufﬁx ‘‘ment.’’ Ment means action, process. The instrument or agent of an action or process. So when you say I’m atoning, you got to act on it. You get in the process. You got to acknowledge your wrong, confess your wrong. Repent of your wrong. Atone for your wrong. Then you’ll get forgiveness, then reconciliation, and restoration. And then you’re back to the aton. Oh, Lord. Now brothers, let’s close it out. Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t move. Now you know the Bible says in the 430th year of this sojourn they went out. That’s in a book called Exodus. Now the word exodus means departure—a going out. A way out. What did we come to Washington for? We didn’t come to Washington to petition the government for a way out of her. But to ﬁnd a way out of our afﬂiction. But a way out from something bigger than our afﬂiction. Oh, man. When you say come out, what do you mean? You’ve got to come out from under the mind of a slave. We’ve got to come out from a mind that is self-afﬂicted with the evil of black inferiority. We’ve got to come into a new way of thinking. Now brothers, sisters, I want to close this lecture with a special message to our President and to the Congress. There is a great divide, but the real evil in America is not white ﬂesh, or black ﬂesh. The real evil in America is the idea that undergirds the set up of the western world. And that idea is called white supremacy. Now wait, wait, wait. Before you get angry. Those of you listening by television. You don’t even know why you behave the way you behave. I’m not telling you I’m a psychiatrist, but I do want to operate on your head. White supremacy is the enemy of both White people and Black people because the idea of White supremacy means you should rule because you’re White, that makes you sick. And you’ve produced a sick society and a sick world. The founding fathers meant well, but they said, ‘‘toward a more perfect union’’. So, the Bible says, we know in part, we prophesy in part, but when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be done away with. So either, Mr. Clinton, we’re going to do away with the mind-set of the founding fathers. You don’t have to repudiate them like you’ve asked my brothers to do me. You don’t have to say they were malicious, hate ﬁlled people. But you must evolve out of their mind- set. You see their minds was limited to those six European nations

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out of which this country was founded. But you’ve got Asians here. How are you going to handle that? You’ve got children of Africa here. How are you going to handle that? You’ve got Arabs here. You’ve got Hispanics here. I know you call them illegal aliens, but hell, you took Texas from them by ﬂooding Texas with people that got your mind. And now they’re coming back across the border to what is Northern Mexico, Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, and California. They don’t see themselves as illegal aliens. I think they might see you as an illegal alien. You have to be careful how you talk to people. You have to be careful how you deal with people. The Native American is suffering today. He’s suffering almost complete extinction. Now, he learned about bingo. You taught him. He learned about black jack. You taught him. He learned about playing roulette. You taught him. Now, he’s making a lot of money. You’re upset with him because he’s adopted your ways. What makes you like this? See, you’re like this because you’re not well. You’re not well. And in the light of today’s global village, you can never harmonize with the Asians. You can’t harmonize with the islands of the Paciﬁc. You can’t harmonize with the dark people of the world who out number you 11 to one, if you’re going to stand in the mind of white supremacy. White supremacy has to die in order for humanity to live. (APPLAUSE) FARRAKHAN: Now, oh, I know. I know. I know it’s painful, but we have to operate now, just, just take a little of this morphine and you won’t feel the pain as much. You just need to bite down on something, as I stop this last few minutes, just bite down on your ﬁnger. Listen, listen, listen, listen, white supremacy caused you all, not you all, some White folk to try to rewrite history and write us out. White supremacy caused Napoleon to blow the nose off of the Sphinx because it reminded you too much of the Black man’s majesty. White supremacy caused you to take Jesus, a man with hair like lambs wool and feet like burnished brass and make him White. So that you could worship him because you could never see yourself honoring somebody Black because of the state of your mind. You see, you, you really need help. You’ll be all right. You’ll be all right. You will be all right. Now, now, now, you painted the Last Supper, everybody there White. My mother asked the man that came to bring her the Bible. He said, look there, the pictures in the Bible. You see, Jesus and all his disciples are at the Last Supper—my mother in her West Indian accent said, you mean ain’t nobody Black was at the Last Supper? (LAUGHTER) And the man said, yes, but they was in the kitchen. So now you’ve whitened up everything. Any great invention we made you put white on it, because you didn’t want to admit that a Black person had that intelligence, that genius. You try to color everything to make it satisfactory to the sickness of our mind. So you whitened up religion, Farrakhan didn’t do that. You locked the Bible from us, Farrakhan didn’t do that. Your sick mind wouldn’t even let you bury us in the same ground that both of us came out of. We had to be buried somewhere else,

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that’s sick. Some of us died just to drink water out of a fountain marked White. That’s sick. Isn’t it sick? You poisoned religion. And in all the churches, until recently, the master was painted white. So, you had us bowing down to your image. Which ill-effected our minds. You gave us your version of history. And you whitened that up. Yes, you did. Yes, you did. You are a white Shriner. The black Shriner don’t integrate the shrine. Why don’t you black Shriners integrate the shrine? Because in the shrine, you are the essence of the secret. They don’t want you there. They’ll have to tell the world, it’s you we been thinking about all along. Now, white folks see the reason you could look at the O. J. Simpson trial, in horror, and the reason blacks folk rejoiced, had nothing to do with the horror of the tragedy. Black folk would never rejoice over the slaughter of Ron Goldman and Nicole Brown Simpson. Black folk saw that with compassion. Many black folk grieve over that reality. You say, ‘‘O. J. sold out.’’ No, he didn’t sell out. He was drawn out. Black folk that got talent, they all grow up in the ‘‘hood.’’ When we ﬁrst sing, we sing in these old raunchy night clubs in the ‘‘hood.’’ When we play sandlot ball, we play it in the ‘‘hood.’’ But when you spot us, you draw us out. You say ‘‘that Negro can run. Look at how high he jumps.’’ So you give us a scholarship to your university. But the blacks who are in college, who play basketball for you, who play football for you, who run track for you, you disallow them to get involved with black students and the suffering of black students on all white campuses. You hide them away. Give them privileges. Then they ﬁnd themselves with your daughter. Then you take them into the NBA, the NFL, and they become megastars. Or in the entertainment ﬁeld and when they become megastars, their association is no longer black. They may not have a black manager, a black agent, a black accountant. They meet in parties, in posh neighborhoods that black folk don’t come into. So their association becomes white women, white men, and association breeds assimilation. And if you have a slave mentality, you feel you have arrived now because you can jump over cars, running in airports, playing in ﬁlms. I’m not degrading, my brother, I love him. But he was drawn out. He didn’t sell out, he was drawn out. Michael Jackson is drawn out. Most of our top stars are drawn out. And then, when you get them, you imprison them with fear and distrust. You don’t want them to speak out on the issues that are political, that are social. They must shut their mouths or you threaten to take away their fame, take away their fortune because you’re sick. And the president is not gonna point this out. He’s trying to get well. But he’s a physician that can’t heal himself. I’m almost ﬁnished. White supremacy has poisoned the bloodstream of religion, education, politics, jurisprudence, economics, social ethics and morality. And there is no way that we can integrate into white supremacy and hold our dignity as human beings because if we integrate into that, we become subservient to that. And to become subservient to that is to make the slave master comfortable with his slave. So, we got to come out of her my people. Come out of a system and a world that is built on the wrong idea. An idea that never can create a perfect union with God. The false idea of white supremacy prevents anyone from becoming one with God. White people have to come out of that idea, which has poisoned them into a

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false attitude of superiority based on the color of their skins. The doctrine of white supremacy disallows whites to grow to their full potential. It forces White people to see themselves as the law or above the law. And that’s why Furhman could say that he is like a god. See, he thinks like that, but that idea is pervasive in police departments across the country. And it’s getting worse and not better because white supremacy is not being challenged. And I say to all of us who are leaders, all of us who are preachers, we must not shrink from the responsibility of pointing our wrong, so that we can be comfortable and keep White people comfortable in their alienation from God. And so, white folks are having heart attacks today because their world is coming down. And if you look at the Asians, the Asians have the fastest growing economies in the world. The Asians are not saying, bashing white people. You don’t ﬁnd the Asians saying the white man is this, the white man is that, the white man is the other. He don’t talk like that. You know what he does? He just relocates the top banks from Wall Streets to Tokyo. He don’t say, I’m better than the white man. He just starts building his world and building his economy and challenging white supremacy. I saw a young 14 year old Chinese girl the other day play the violin. Sarah Chang is her name. She was magniﬁcent. I saw a young Japanese girl, Midori, play the violin. She was magniﬁcent. They don’t have to say to white people, I’m better than you. They just do their thing. And white folk have to readjust their thinking, because they thought that they could master all of these instruments and nobody else could, but the Chinese are mastering it, the Japanese are mastering it. All these things are breaking up the mind of White supremacy. Black man, you don’t have to bash white people, all we gotta do is go back home and turn our communities into productive places. All we gotta do is go back home and make our communities a decent and safe place to live. And if we start dotting the Black community with businesses, opening up factories, challenging ourselves to be better than we are, White folk, instead of driving by, using the ‘‘N’’ word, they’ll say, look, look at them. Oh, my God. They’re marvelous. They’re wonderful. We can’t, we can’t say they’re inferior anymore. But, every time we drive by shoot, every time we carjack, every time we use foul, ﬁlthy language, every time we produce culturally degenerate ﬁlms and tapes, putting a string in our women’s backside and parading them before the world, every time we do things like this we are feeding the degenerate mind of white supremacy and I want us to stop feeding that mind and let that mind die a natural death. And so, to all the artists that are present, you wonderful gifted artists, remember that your gift comes from God. And David the Psalmist said, praise him on the tumbrel, praise him on the lute, praise him on the harp, praise him in the sultry, praise in the song, praise him in the dance, let everything be a praise of God. So, when you sing, you don’t have to get naked to sing. Demonstrate your gift, not your breast. Demonstrate your gift, not what is between your legs. Clean up, Black man, and the world will respect and honor you. But, you have fallen down like the prodigal son and you’re husking corn and feeding swine. Filthy jokes. We can’t bring our children to the television. We can’t bring our families to the movies because the American people have an appetite like a swine. And you are feeding the swine with the ﬁlth of degenerate culture. We got to stop it.

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We’re not putting you down, brothers, we want to pick you up so with your rap, you can pick up the world. With your song, you can pick up the world. With your dance, with your music, you can pick up the world. And so America, if your conscience is afﬂicted because God is lashing you, don’t just start with the constitution, Mr. President. Start with the evil of slavery because that’s the root of the problem. And you can’t solve the problem, Mr. President, unless we expose the root. For when you expose the root to the light, then the root will die. The tree will die. And something new can come to birth. And so to the Whites of this nation, accept you be born again, you can not see the kingdom of God. But can I return back into my mother’s womb for the second time? No. You can’t do that. But this old mind of white supremacy has to die in order that a new mind might come to birth. Black man. You can’t see the kingdom of God unless we be born again. Must I enter back into my mother’s womb for a second time? No. You can’t do that black man. But the mind of white supremacy is repulsive to God. And the mind of black inferiority is repulsive to God. And any mind of black supremacy is repulsive to God. But the only mind that God will accept is a mind stayed on him and on righteousness. Blacks had to be taught to give us root in loving ourselves again. But that was a medicine, a prescription. But after health is restored we can’t keep taking the medicine. We’ve got to move onto something else. Higher and better. So, my beloved brothers and sisters, here’s what we would like you to do. Everyone of you, my dear brothers, when you go home, here’s what I want you to do. We must belong to some organization that is working for and in the interest of the uplift and the liberation of our people. Go back, join the NAACP if you want to, join the Urban league, join the All African People’s Revolutionary Party, join us, join the Nation of Islam, join PUSH, join the Congress of Racial Equality, join SCLC—the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, but we must become a totally organized people and the only way we can do that is to become a part of some organization that is working for the uplift of our people. We must keep the local organizing committees that made this event possible, we must keep them together. And then all of us, as leaders, must stay together and make the National African American Leadership Summit inclusive of all of us. I know that the NAACP did not ofﬁcially endorse this march. Neither did the Urban League. But, so what? So what? Many of the members are here anyway. I know that Dr. Lyons, of the National Baptist Association USA did not endorse the march, nor did the Reverend Dr. B. W. Smith, nor did Bishop Chandler Owens, but so what? These are our brothers and we’re not going to stop reaching out for them simply because we feel there was a misunderstanding. We still want to talk to our brothers because we cannot let artiﬁcial barriers divide us. Remember the letter of Willie Lynch and let’s not let Willie Lynch lynch our new spirit and our new attitude and our new mind. No, we must continue to reach out for those that have condemned this, and make them to see that this was not evil, it was not intended for evil, it was intended for good. Now, brothers, moral and spiritual renewal is a necessity. Every one of you must go back home and join some church, synagogue or temple or mosque that is teaching spiritual and moral uplift. I want you, brothers, there’s no men in the church, in the mosque.

132. Minister Louis Farrakhan Challenges Black Men

The men are in the streets and we got to get back to the houses of God. But preachers we have to revive religion in America. We have to revive the houses of God that they’re not personal thiefdoms of those of us who are their preachers and pastors. But we got to be more like Jesus, more like Mohammed, more like Moses and become servants of the people in fulﬁlling their needs. Brothers, when you go home, we’ve got to register eight million, eligible but unregistered brothers, sisters. So you go home and ﬁnd eight more like yourself. You register and get them to register. Should I register as Democrat? Should I register as a Republican? Should I register as independent? If you’re an independent, that’s ﬁne. If you’re a Democrat, that’s ﬁne. If you’re a Republican, that’s OK. Because in local elections you have to do that which is in the best interest of your local community. But what we want is not necessarily a third party, but a third force. Which means that we’re going to collect Democrats, Republicans and independents around an agenda that is in the best interest of our people. And then all of us can stand on that agenda and in 1996, whoever the standard bearer is for the Democratic, the Republican, or the independent party should one come into existence. They’ve got to speak to our agenda. We’re no longer going to vote for somebody just because they’re black. We tried that. We wish we could. But we got to vote for you, if you are compatible with our agenda. Now many of the people that’s in this House right here are put there by the margin of the black vote. So in the next election, we want to see who’s in here do we want to stay and who in here do we want to go. And we want to show them that never again will they every disrespect the Black community. We must make them afraid to do evil to us and think they can get away with it. We must be prepared to help them if they are with us or to punish them if they’re against us. And when they are against us, I’m not talking about color. I’m talking about an agenda that’s in the best interest of the Black, the poor and the vulnerable in this society. Now atonement goes beyond us. I don’t like this squabble with the members of the Jewish community. I don’t like it. The honorable Elijah Muhammad said in one of his writings that he believed that we would work out some kind of an accord. Maybe so. Reverend Jackson has talked to the 12 presidents of Jewish organizations and perhaps in the light of what we see today, maybe it’s time to sit down and talk. Not with any preconditions. You got pain. Well, we’ve got pain, too. You hurt. We hurt, too. The question is: if the dialogue is proper then we might be able to end the pain. And ending the pain may be good for both and ultimately good for the nation. We’re not opposed to sitting down. And I guess if you can sit down with Arafat where there are rivers of blood between you—why can’t you sit down with us and there’s no blood between us. You don’t make sense not to dialogue. It doesn’t make sense. Well, brothers, I hope Father Clemons spoke today. Is Father Clemons here? Do you know Father Clemons? He is one of the great pastors. Father Clemons, I wanted him to speak today because he has a program that he wants everyone of us when we

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leave here to go to some jail or prison and adapt one inmate for the rest of his and your life to make them your personal friend—to help them through their incarceration, to be encouragement for them. The brothers who are locked down inside the walls need us on the outside and we need them on the inside. So if everyone of us will pick out one inmate, Father Clemons will do the work of guiding this development, because it is his idea, and it is a good idea and the national African-American leadership summit adapts that idea. Thank you, Father Clemons. Will you do that, brothers? How many of you will adopt one black man in prison and make him your pal, your brother for life. Help him through the incarceration. Well, go to the chaplain of that jail and say, you want to adopt one inmate. Start writing to that person, visiting that person, helping that person. And since so many of us have been there already, we know what they suffer. Let’s help our brothers and sisters who are locked down. Did anybody mention the political prisons? Brother Conrad Worrel mentioned our political prisoners, never forget them. And now, brothers, there are 25,000 black children in need of adoption. This is out brother Eason who is the President of Blacks in Government. I’m sorry, brother Dunston, the president of the black social workers. He has 25,000 children in need of adoption. Out of this vast audience, there must be 25,000 men who will take one of these children and take them through life and make life worth living for those children. In this vast audience, is there anyone one, two, ten, twenty-ﬁve, hundred, a thousand, 25 thousand who would be willing to adopt a black brother or sister, bring them into your home and rear them properly. How many of you think you would like to do that, would you just raise your hand, let me take a look. Raise them high. That’s a wonderful expression. Where should they go, what should they do, who should they see. UNKNOWN (FROM THE PODIUM): FARRAKHAN:

They should see booth 26 north. Booth 26 north is where you should go. It is to my right, your left. Or you should call 1-800-419-1999. Now brothers, the last thing we want to say, we want to develop an economic development fund. Suppose, the nearly 2 million here, and 10 million more back home that support us gave ten dollars a month to a national economic development fund.

Inside of one month, we would have over $100 million. And in one year, we would have $1 billion, $200 million. What will we do with that? I would love for the leadership up here to form a board and call in Myrley Evers Williams and ask here, what is the budget of the NAACP for this year? It’s $13 million. It’s $15 million, write a check. Now, next year you have to become accountable to the board, and the members of the NAACP will be on the board too, which means that no Black organization will be accountable to anybody outside of us. But accountable to us and we will free the NAACP, the Urban League and all Black organizations to work in the best interest of our people. How many of you

132. Minister Louis Farrakhan Challenges Black Men

would like to see all our Black organizations free? Now, look brothers, an economic development fund for $10 a month is not a big price to ask to begin to build an economic infrastructure to nurture businesses within the Black community. Soon the leadership is going to meet and work out the details of an Exodus, Exodus Economic Fund. And we’re going to get back to you. This is not a one day thing. A task force will be formed right out of this leadership to make sure that the things that we say today will be implemented so that next year of the day of atonement, which this will take place each and every year from now on until God says, well done. Now, you saw the money that was taken up today, didn’t you? How many of you gave some money today? I see some hands that wanted to give, but didn’t get that box to them. Well, let me tell you something brothers, we want an outside accounting ﬁrm to come in and scrutinize every dollar that was raised from your pockets to make the Million Man March a success. And if there is any overage, it will not be spent. We will come back to this board of leadership and we will account for every nickel, every dime every dollar. Do you know why? We want Willie Lynch to die a natural death. And the only way we can kill the idea of Willie Lynch, we have to build trust in each other. And the only way we can build trust is to open up the coat and show that you don’t have a hidden agenda. All of us will be looking at the same thing, for the same purpose. And then we’ll come back to you and make a full accounting for every nickel, every dime, and every dollar so that you can trust. I put my life on this. To rob you is a sin. To use you and abuse you is a sin. To make mockery of your love and your trust is a sin. And we repent of all sin and we refuse to do sin anymore. Is that agreeable, black man. Now, brothers, I want you to take this pledge. When I say I, I want you to say I, and I’ll say your name. I know that there’s so many names, but I want you to shout your name out so that the ancestors can hear it. Take this pledge with me. Say with me please, I, say your name, pledge that from this day forward I will strive to love my brother as I love myself. I, say your name, from this day forward will strive to improve myself spiritually, morally, mentally, socially, politically, and economically for the beneﬁt of myself, my family, and my people. I, say your name, pledge that I will strive to build business, build houses, build hospitals, build factories, and then to enter international trade for the good of myself, my family, and my people. I, say your name, pledge that from this day forward I will never raise my hand with a knife or a gun to beat, cut, or shoot any member of my family or any human being, except in self-defense. I, say your name, pledge from this day forward I will never abuse my wife by striking her, disrespecting her for she is the mother of my children and the producer of my future. I, say your name, pledge that from this day forward I will never engage in the abuse of children, little boys, or little girls for sexual gratiﬁcation. But I will let them grow in peace to be strong men and women for the future of our people. I, say your name, will never again use the B word to describe my female, but particularly my own Black sister. I, say your name, pledge from this day forward that I will not poison my body with drugs or that which is destructive to my health and my well being. I, say your name, pledge from this day forward, I will support Black newspapers, Black radio, Black television. I will support Black artists, who clean up their acts to show respect

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for themselves and respect for their people, and respect for the ears of the human family. I, say your name, will do all of this so help me God. Well, I think we all should hold hands now. And I want somebody to sing ‘‘To God be the Glory.’’ And the reason I want this song sung is because I don’t want anybody to take the credit for a day like this. I didn’t do it. Reverend Chavis didn’t do it. Reverend Jackson didn’t do it. Reverend Sharpton didn’t do it. Conrad Rawell in Manarana Karinga didn’t do it. Dr. Cornell West didn’t do it. But all of us worked together to do the best that we could but it’s bigger than all of us. So since we can’t take the praise, then we have to give all the glory, all the honor, all the praise to him to whom it rightfully belongs. So in closing, we want to thank Mayor Barry and Mrs. Barry for opening this great city to us. And out of every dollar that was collected, ten percent of it we’re going to leave here in Washington that Mayor Barry may aid some institution, some good cause in the city. We want to set a good example. This was a beautiful and peaceful meeting. Probably one of the best that ever was held in Washington held by Black men who want to atone to God and clear our slate. Beautiful Black brothers. Beautiful brothers, I’m going to say a prayer and I want to thank Phi Beta Sigma and its wonderful, wonderful president and all the Greek letter organizations but Phi Beta Sigma especially because they opened their door to the Million Man March and made it possible. I want to thank the Reverend Dr. Benjamin Chavis who did a wonderful, wonderful job. I thank his wife for her sacriﬁce and my wife for hers. I thank Dorothy Height and the National Council of Negro Women. I thank Dr. Betty Shabazz who came in the name of her husband and I thank God for allowing the negative thing to be turned into a positive that she and I might start a process of reconciling 30 year old differences. Lord knows if we could do it with blood between us, God knows that Bloods and Crips have done it and whatever we have done to one another, don’t let the sun set before saying to your brother, I love you and I’m sorry. And after the prayer is said and the song is sung, I want you all to just embrace each other and say to each other, I love you my brother and thank you for making this holy day of atonement real in my life. Don’t do it now, wait til after prayer and the song. Will you bow your heads, please? Oh, before we say that prayer, the brother of my leader and teacher, the honorable Elijah Muhammad, is here with me and with us. He’s like my father in the absence of my father. He knows this history of the Nation of Islam better than any man in America and I thank God that he lived long enough to see the day that he suffered and worked for, for now 65 years. The brother of the honorable Elijah Muhammad, brother John Muhammad. (APPLAUSE) FARRAKHAN: MUHAMMAD: FARRAKHAN:

And so now. Dar Selim Eloahim! (PH) Dar Eloahim Salaam (PH). He looks just like my daddy! And oh, Reverend Jackson, where is that great man? He had to go! Didn’t he preach today? And now, with your heads bowed, (SINGS IN ARABIC).…

133. The Oral History of Ruth Spaulding Boyd, interviewed by Serena Rhodie, 1996 639

‘‘In the name of Allah the beneﬁcent, the merciful, praise be to Allah the Lord of the world, the beneﬁcent, the merciful master of the day of requital.’’ Thee do we worship. Thine aid we seek. Guide us on the right path. The path of those upon whom you have bestowed favors, not the path of those upon whom wrath is brought down. Nor those who go astray. Oh, Allah. We thank you for this holy day of Atonement and Reconciliation. We thank you for putting your spirit and your calm in Washington, D.C., and over the heads of this nearly two million of your servants. We thank you for letting us set a new example, not only for our people but for America and the world. We thank you, oh, Allah, for bringing us safely over the highways and we beg you to bring us safely back to our wives and our children and our loved ones, who saw us off earlier or a few days ago. And as we leave this place, let us be resolved to go home to work out this Atonement and make our communities a decent, whole, and safe place to live. And oh, Allah, we beg your blessings on all who participated, all who came that presented their bodies as a living sacriﬁce, wholly and acceptable as their reasonable service. Now, let us not be conformed to this world, but let us go home transformed by the renewing of our minds and let the idea of atonement ring throughout America. That America may see that the slave has come up with power. The slave is been restored, delivered, and redeemed. And now call this nation to repentance. To acknowledge her wrongs. To confess, not in secret documents, called classiﬁed, but to come before the world and the American people as the Japanese prime minister did and confess her faults before the world because her sins have affected the whole world. And perhaps, she may do some act of atonement, that you may forgive and those ill-affected may forgive, that reconciliation and restoration may lead us to the perfect union with thee and with each other. We ask all of this in your Holy and Righteous Name, Allah, akbar (PRAYER IN ARABIC). Allah, akbar. Allah, akbar. That means God is great.… And now Gregory Hopkins to sing To God Be the Glory. Keep holding each other’s hands, brothers. And after the song is sung, let us embrace each other. (PERFORMANCE OF SONG) FARRAKHAN: Turn to your brother and hug your brother and tell your brother you love him and let’s carry this love all the way back to our cities and towns and never let it die, brothers. Never let it die. Source: Transcript retrieved from: http://www.cgi.cnn.com/US/9510/megamarch/10–16/transcript/index.html.

133. The Oral History of Ruth Spaulding Boyd, interviewed by Serena Rhodie, 1996 Ruth Spaulding Boyd was born on October 29, 1926, on 1003 Fayetteville Street, now known as Old Fayetteville Street in Durham, North Carolina. All of her education took place in Durham. She attended North Carolina College for Negroes and received her master’s degree in education in 1964 from the same school, which is now known as North Carolina Central University. She worked as a teacher in Durham for 29 years, retiring in 1977. She was interviewed as part of an oral history project at Duke University.

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Mrs. Boyd: After I graduated from college, I started working with the Junior’s Mothers Club with a play school. We were the ﬁrst play school in the state of North Carolina and in the eastern part of the United States. Three hours a day, I would walk, pick up the children on the way to the recreational center, and we would play and do activities. That was the summer of ‘47, and I graduated in June, and in the last of July I got a job teaching home economics, but I gave it up. The children’s parents were paying about ﬁfty cents a week, and I had about ten children, and one of the little boys had a big wheel wagon and his mother would get somebody to pull him down the street in the wagon, and they’d stop along the way and pick some of the others. Then when I left that job, the lady that took over drove around and picked up the children and that play school lasted up until this lady retired, and that was in the ’70s. Source: Interviewed as part of American Communities: an Oral History Approach, a course taught by Paul Ortiz and Ginger Young at the Center for Documentary Studies, Duke University, 1996.

134. The Oral History of Nathaniel B. White, interviewed by Robb Carroll, 1996 Nathaniel B. White was born in Hertford, North Carolina, in 1914. He was the third of four boys in the family. When the boys’ mother died during the inﬂuenza epidemic of 1919, the family moved to Norfolk, Virginia, where their father had been working on World War I contracts. White lived there with his brothers, his father, and his aunt, Essie-May Redd. He was interviewed for a Duke University oral history project. While attending Booker T. Washington High School, White also worked delivering the Norfolk Journal and Guide, the area’s black newspaper. It was in this job that he ﬁrst became interested in the printing business. White graduated from Booker T. Washington in 1932. White enrolled in a program to study printing at the Hampton Institute in Hampton, Virginia. Two years later, White’s younger brother George enrolled in the same program. After graduating, White took a job with the printing department of the Carolina Tribune in Raleigh, North Carolina. After working at the Tribune for two years, White and his younger brother George joined two business associates to purchase the Service Printing Company, located on Fayetteville Street in Durham, North Carolina’s prosperous Hayti district. In the 1940s, Hayti was the home to many vibrant businesses, most of which were owned by black businessmen. White continued to work at the Service Printing Company until 1983 when he retired as its president. Interviewed by Robb Carroll Mr. White describes taking his Boy Scout troop to the 1960 National Boy Scout Jamboree in Colorado Springs. This was one of the troop’s ﬁrst experiences with a racially integrated group of boys. White: … We traveled together in four buses, but we had a black bus, you know, for all the black boys. But we really came together on that trip. We stopped in a gymnasium. And some of the white boys didn’t want to stay in that gymnasium with us. So they told them, ‘‘You stay here or you’re getting on the next bus going back to North Carolina.’’

135. From ‘‘Diana Ross,’’ November 13, 1997

Interviewer: What was their reaction? White: They stayed. [laughs] They didn’t want to leave that trip. Source: Interviewed as part of American Communities: an Oral History Approach, a course taught by Paul Ortiz and Ginger Young at the Center for Documentary Studies, Duke University, 1996.

135. From ‘‘Diana Ross,’’ November 13, 1997 JILL HAMILTON FROM ROLLING STONE Born in 1944, Diana Ross grew up singing at family parties and in church in Detroit. Her career kicked off in 1961 when she and her neighbors Florence Ballard and Mary Wilson changed their band name from the Primettes to the Supremes and signed to sing for Motown records. In the early 1960s, the Supremes were the quintessential girl group. Songs like ‘‘Baby Love,’’ ‘‘Come See About Me,’’ and ‘‘Stop! In the Name of Love’’ helped deﬁne the Motown sound. From 1964 to 1967, two of their singles were pop chart favorites. Ross left the Supremes and went on to solo superstardom. Her stream of hits evokes all the eras in which she’s been a musical force: ‘‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’’ (1970), ‘‘Love Hangover’’ (1976), ‘‘I’m Coming Out’’ (1980), and ‘‘Missing You’’ (1984). She’s also starred in the ﬁlms The Wiz, Mahogany, and Lady Sings the Blues, a Billie Holiday biopic that earned her an Academy Award nomination. In 1997, Ross was interviewed by Rolling Stone magazine in her Malibu, California, home. This is an excerpt from that interview. RS: DR:

RS: DR:

RS: DR:

What did you feel like when your ﬁrst record came out? Very excited. They didn’t have little stereos and things then, so you would have to sit outside and turn the car radio on and have it really loud so you could hear it on the street. Everybody sang in the neighborhood. I lived on the north side of town on the same street that Smokey [Robinson] lived on, and I used to watch them rehearse. When we ﬁrst heard ‘‘Shop Around,’’ I went like, ‘‘If Smokey can make a record, I’d like to make a record.’’ What did you do with your ﬁrst royalty check? I bought my mother a home. We moved out of the projects and moved into our own houses. Each of the girls [in the Supremes] all bought houses on the same street. It was a big deal. What were the assumptions about women in rock back then? We actually created an image for girl groups. I was brought up with people who lived with the golden rule. They had a lot of integrity, were clean-living people, caring about others and so on. And my ﬁrst job was at Hudson’s department store, so I was very inﬂuenced by windows and fashion magazines. I went to Cass Technical High School and majored in costume design and fashion illustration. I’ve always been interested in fashion, cosmetics and makeup and hair, so the image that we created was very ladylike, very feminine. Our image was really a reﬂection of beauty and glamour. The image onstage was always ladylike. Our movements were never bumping and grinding—it was very smooth and rhythmic [she sways her arms to

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RS: DR:

RS: DR:

RS: DR:

RS: DR:

demonstrate], and the music was the same. All of us were high-school graduates, so we spoke well. This is my upbringing, very respectful. People always ask me, ‘‘Why do they call you Miss Ross?’’ In Detroit anybody past a certain age were called Mr. and Mrs. You didn’t refer to them by their ﬁrst names. As life went on and people started calling me Miss Ross, some people got so rufﬂed about that. But it was not a big thing as far as our upbringing. Were there any advantages to being a woman in music? It’s always been a struggle—more hard than an advantage. If I wanted to run Motown records right now, they wouldn’t look at me, because I’m a female and an artist. Sometimes even with lawyers it’s condescending. Rather than someone telling you what you can do, they’re so busy telling you what you can’t do. It’s like a little puppy that walks around and pisses on the ﬂowers—someone constantly wants to piss on your dreams. It’s a ﬁght. You just have to be willing to play the game with a sense of humor, with lightness about it, and get the work done. And mooove forward. Did you ever feel pressure to act like one of the guys? I didn’t ever feel like I had to be one of the guys. When I’m on the road—I travel with 33 men and about three girls—one of the things I make very clear to the girls is how they handle themselves. You can be a tart on the road or you can be a classy lady. Life on the road is hard because you spend so many hours away from home, you’re in a hotel room and you’re lonely, so you have to really, really stay in control. Is there a difference between male and female fans? Girls really believe in my music, and I guess they bring the guys along. I’ve had a big gay following all my career, which I love. ‘‘I Will Survive’’—we did it up here on Sunset, and we had every gay group in L.A. out in the parade. RuPaul was on the stage with me singing. It was amazing, it was brilliant. And then at the end of the song, I dove into the audience. I just ran and jumped in the audience, and I was carried around by all the kids. What is the perfect pop song? I like songs that are positive and say something inspirational and make a difference in people’s lives. Songs like ‘‘Reach Out and Touch,’’ ‘‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.’’ I like songs with a melodic sound—something you can sing in the shower. A lot of the Motown records had this, especially in the early days. They really connected with your brain and they stuck there.

‘‘It’s My Turn’’ made such a big difference at a time when women needed to make a stand for themselves. ‘‘I’m Coming Out’’ is still one of those messages, whether it’s for gays or whether it’s for women. When we wrote that song, [producer] Nile Rodgers came to me and said, ‘‘What do you want to sing about right

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now?’’ and I said, ‘‘I don’t know. I’m just coming out and everything’s upside down.’’ And that’s how the songs came about—‘‘Upside Down’’ and ‘‘I’m Coming Out.’’ I just love this business. I don’t know if I could have chosen anything better to give my life to. I’m doing something I probably didn’t have to be paid to do. Source: From ‘‘Diana Ross’’ by Jill Hamilton from Rolling Stone, November 13, 1997 C Rolling Stone LLC. All Rights Reserved. Reprinted by Permission.

136. Interview with Dr. William Anderson, June 16, 1998 Dr. William Anderson was a physician in Detroit who remembers the years of the civil rights movement in this question and answer interview. Interviewer: Dr. Anderson talks about his involvement in the civil rights movement and other events which occurred from 1940 through 1969. Response: Let me start to piece together these things of how I got involved in civil rights. I had no intentions in doing that. That was not in my long-range plans. Well, let me just interject before I piece together my civil rights experiences. When I went to Albany [GA] to practice, I was segregated twice. First, because I was black and second, because I was a (Doctor of Osteopathic medicine) DO. Because there was a city hospital in Albany, there were no private hospitals. There were no black hospitals in Albany, although it was bigger than Americus. So, I was denied hospital privileges, as were the other two black doctors in Albany. No black doctor had ever had any hospital privileges [in Albany, GA]. WA: There were a few other DO’s in town, only [two of us] black. [We were] segregated twice. But when I got to Albany, I just sort of assumed some privileges. I just started putting patients in the hospital and was writing the orders, until I was called into the ofﬁce of the administrator and he said, ‘‘Oh, by the way, we don’t have any record of you applying for privileges.’’ I said, ‘‘Apply for privileges? But I’m a doctor.’’ He said, ‘‘No, no, no. You’ve got to go through the process.’’ Well, to make a long story short, he just said, ‘‘No DO’s are ever permitted on [staff] here.’’ He didn’t say we never had a black on the staff, or we don’t permit blacks on the staff. He just said, ‘‘You don’t meet the criteria for membership.’’ So, I had my practice in my ofﬁce. But, now going back to 1949, when I went to Alabama to Montgomery, Alabama State College for Negroes as it was called, I have now been married for two years. I married into a family that was very close to the family of [Dr.] Martin Luther King, Jr. My wife’s brother and Martin Luther King, Jr. were classmates in high school. They were ace buddies and ran around together. I: What was her brother’s name? WA: It was James. James Madison Dixon. I: And your wife’s name?

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WA:

Norma Lee Dixon. They were very close, so that I met Martin Luther King, Jr. when he was a senior in high school and he would visit my mother-in-law’s home, regularly. I would have to listen to him practicing his preaching, regularly. But we developed a friendship then, because of that relationship with my wife’s brother. We maintained contact with each other for several years thereafter. He and I even started a couple of little projects [at] Morehouse College and I was still living in Atlanta. He and I started a youth chapter of the NAACP on the campus of Morehouse, and he and I began to get active in the community. It wasn’t civil rights in those days. We were just community activists. But, then I went to Alabama and he went on [to further his education]. After his ﬁnishing [from] Morehouse, he went on to Boston.

It was coincidental that while I was in Montgomery that I met [Rev.] Ralph Abernathy who did not know Martin Luther King, Jr. He had no knowledge of him, because this was prior to the Montgomery Bus Boycott. But, the coincidence that is striking even to me, is that I would form a fast friendship with these two people who [would later] become key ﬁgures in the Civil Rights Movement. As a matter of fact, I became such a close friend of Abernathy that he became the godfather of my oldest daughter. He probably stayed at my house more than I did in Montgomery, because I was working. I was going to class and to my job and very often he would eat my dinner and my wife would have to cook again, because she really loved him. I mean, he was like a part of the family. Ralph Abernathy was part of my family. Source: Oral Histories. Copyright C , Kellogg African American Health Care Project, 2000.

137. The Temptations Interview, July 22, 2000 BILLBOARD MAGAZINE The Temptations were a legendary rhythm and blues singing group from Detroit and the Motown Label. On the group’s fortieth anniversary, Billboard, the international news weekly of music, interviewed the surviving members of the group. This is an excerpt from those interviews. It was the eve of winning a double platinum certiﬁcation for their 1998 album, ‘‘Phoenix Rising,’’ the group was busy promoting its latest Motown set, ‘‘Ear-Resistible.’’ Group founder Otis Williams (OW) was the only remaining original member of the group whtn this interview was conducted. In Los Angeles for a whirlwind round of radio visits and press interviews in the year 2000, the reconstituted Temptations reﬂected on life as a virtual musical institution. Billboard: Member Terry Weeks (TW):

How did each of you feel when you ﬁrst joined the Temptations? It was an absolute honor. I grew up listening to this group, and I had no idea that I would be part of

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Member Harry McGillberry (HM):

Member Ron Tyson (RT):

Member Barrington Henderson (BH):

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extending their legacy. It was a big challenge, especially since very few groups have had a 40-year history and are still making hit records. My earliest recollection of the group was seeing them on television in concert in the early ‘70s on ‘‘Midnight Special.’’ I had grown up in the era of R&B bands, and I thought they were amazing [how] they used their voices as instruments. It was a blessing. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would end up with a group that’s a household name. Coming up in the ‘60s, I had no inkling that I would follow in the footsteps of one of my idols, Melvin Franklin, who was very inspirational for me in my craft as a bass singer. It’s been one of the biggest joys of my life. To have written and produced for the group when they were on Atlantic Records [1977–78] and then to become a member myself is something I could never have imagined. I idolized these guys. I got to know them all as individuals, and I can only imagine how many people would have liked to be in my place as a member of the group. It was a long-awaited dream come true for me to be a part of the group that set the prototype for male vocal groups. I recall, as a youngster, being introduced to and intrigued by the Motown sound, which was saturating the airwaves. I remember the ﬁrst time the Temptations appeared on ‘‘The Ed Sullivan Show’’ and there was a whole frenzy going on! I used to spin ‘‘My Girl’’ a hundred times a day on my record player, and to be a part of this institution decades later and to work with the originator Otis Williams, that’s been a great experience. How do you live up to the legacy of being a Temptation? To begin with, I felt like I got a little ‘‘attitude’’ from the public. I could never duplicate what Melvin laid down as the foundation. I can only keep his spirit and his achievements alive through what I’m doing, and now I feel like the audiences are starting to accept us overwhelmingly. The most demanding thing for me personally has been working with [renowned choreographer] Cholly ‘‘Pop’’ Atkins incorporating vocals with choreography! It requires homework, and that’s not something I like to do! There was a certain intimidation factor to begin with, given the magnitude of the group. It’s hard to maintain a certain degree of individuality when you’re following guys like David Rufﬁn and Ali-Ollie Woodson, who do a

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whole lotta singin’! It doesn’t happen overnight, but it takes a lot of work, doing your homework, woodshedding. When I joined the group, my thing was to come in and do the best job I could, to come in with my own style, because I could never compete with the past. It’s still not easy, because the Temptations have had such a distinctive sound … but the public has been very accepting of us new guys. We’re trying to extend the 40-year history of a group. I also know that the Temptations were groomed to have a career—not just to have hit records. It’s about how you dress, how you conduct yourself in public, so I want to be a part of continuing the tradition of having the Temptations as role models. How did you react to the success of the ‘‘Phoenix Rising’’ album? We were all absolutely surprised! Some people had forgotten that we were so active. We had a new line-up, and we had been away for a while, recording-wise, so we didn’t know how receptive the public would be, especially since the last album, ‘‘For Lovers Only,’’ had fallen through the cracks. We just knew that the song ‘‘Stay’’ had the potential to be a big record. Personally, I was very surprised and pleasantly happy. I knew what we were up against after 40 years, dealing with some radio programmers who said we didn’t ﬁt the demographics, that we had had our shot. In fact, after we did the ‘‘For Lovers Only’’ album, we tried to leave Motown because we were getting caught up in the changes that were going on at the label at the time. [Then-Motown chairman] Clarence Avant said ‘‘no’’ to us leaving and told us we were a cornerstone act for the label, so we hung in there because we knew [Motown] was where we belonged. Then came ‘‘Phoenix Rising,’’ so we did the right thing. ‘‘Stay’’ was the catalyst for the album to take off. It really happened at a grassroots level with the R&B audience because the single never got pop airplay. I have to give credit to the late George Jackson [president of Motown at the time of the album’s release], who kicked it off, and Kedar Massenburg [current label president], who took it even further. I never would have imagined the group would be in this business this long and be about to sell 2 million copies of an album—I don’t take it for granted, and I think we’re very blessed.

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How do you feel about ‘‘Ear-Resistable,’’ the new album? We feel good. about this project. We’re stepping outside of ourselves by working with guys like Gerald Levert and Joe. We’re excited because it is a departure from the norm, musically. This group is known for reinventing itself, and this record is an extension of us doing that in 2000. We knew that the buying public would wonder what we were going to do coming behind ‘‘Phoenix Rising,’’ but that was not a controlling factor in preparing the album. We did the same thing as we did before, which was to come up with good song content. I think ‘‘Ear-Resistible’’ is more diversiﬁed than the last album, and we hope it will go even higher, sales-wise. What are your favorite Temptation songs? Now that’s really hard for me to say! Probably ‘‘My Girl,’’ but I also love ‘‘Stay,’’ ‘‘My Love Is True,’’ ‘‘Soul To Soul’’ and a song called ‘‘Broken Pieces.’’ ‘‘Superstar,’’ ‘‘The Way You Do The Things You Do.’’ The ﬁrst Temptations song I used to sing in the bathroom as a boy, ‘‘Farewell My Love,’’ and ‘‘Fireﬂy’’ and ‘‘Of Man River.’’ ‘‘My Girl,’’ ‘‘Just My Imagination,’’ ‘‘Life Is But A Dream,’’ which was one of the last songs Melvin recorded. ‘‘Memories,’’ ‘‘Heavenly,’’ ‘‘Let Your Hair Down,’’ ‘‘Lady Soul.’’ That’s pretty diverse. Are there any ‘‘hidden gems,’’ songs or albums that people never fully appreciated or heard? We did an album in 1976 called ‘‘The Temptations Do The Temptations,’’ and I thought it was a damn good record! It just got caught up in the shufﬂe, and it was when we were getting ready to leave to go to Atlantic. The song ‘‘Memories’’ [on the 1975 album, ‘‘A Song For You’’] never got its full due. Dennis Edwards did a speaking part on that song which was not used on the ﬁnal release. Kathy Wakeﬁeld wrote some wonderful lyrics, and Jeffrey Bowen produced it. I still think it’s a great song. I think the ‘‘For Lovers Only’’ album never got properly recognized, and, going way back, ‘‘In A Mellow Mood’’ [from 1967]. What are some of your plans and goals? We haven’t done a gospel album yet. At one point, Motown was interested in us doing that, and gospel music is where the original members of the Temptations started out. We also want to make more of an impact internationally. We’ve

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had some groups of Temptations who are not real Temptations—who have been going over to Europe, and that doesn’t help us in terms of keeping our audience going over there. But, whenever we have gone, it’s always been good; now we hope to tour overseas in December, possibly with The Isley Brothers. Maybe a Broadway show based on the four generations that the group spans. From the success of the [1998, NBC-TV] mini-series, we know we grabbed a younger audience who are very interested in our history. And, maybe do a smooth jazz album. I’d like us to win a Grammy Award, since we haven’t done that yet with this current line-up. How about be the ﬁrst group to perform on the moon when they open it up! To win a Grammy, to have an album go triple-platinum or beyond, to reign for another decade!

Source: C 2000 Nielsen Business Media, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

138. 2000 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, August 15, 2000 CONGRESSMAN HAROLD FORD, JR. In the year 2000, Tennessee Congressman Harold Ford spoke before colleagues at the Democratic National Convention. One of the up-and-coming African American leaders of the Democratic Party, Ford captivated the convention delegates with his vision of an America whose next steps of greatness would come on the shoulders of the civil rights pioneers of previous generations. Ford’s speech propelled him to national notoriety, including his close, but unsuccessful, campaign for the U.S. Senate in 2006. I am honored to speak tonight before a convention that will nominate the favorite son of my home state to be the next President of the United States. I recognize that I stand here tonight because of the brave men and women— many no older than I am today—who were willing to stand up, and in many cases sit down, to create a more perfect union. But I also stand here representing a new generation—a generation committed to those ideals and inspired by an unshakeable conﬁdence in our future. In every neighborhood in my hometown of Memphis, and all across America, I see young people tutoring and mentoring, building homes, caring for seniors, and feeding the hungry. I also see them using their entrepreneurial spirit to build companies, start nonproﬁts, and drive our new economy. We stand at this magniﬁcent moment with the ability to unleash the American imagination.

138. 2000 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, August 15, 2000

I say to all those of this new generation and to all Americans who share in our spirit: if you want a future that belongs to you—if you want a future that is for everyone-then join with us to make Al Gore and Joe Lieberman the next President and Vice President of the United States. We know there are some people who do understand the future, but too often as they gaze to the distance, they fail to know how, to make sure that it serves all of our people. And then there are others who ﬁght tirelessly for the people, but who don’t see beyond the horizon. Al Gore is the rare leader, who both has a vision for the future, and understands that we can only realize its full promise when all our people share in it. I remember meeting Al Gore for the ﬁrst time. I sat across from him at my family’s kitchen table back home in Memphis. As often was the case, my brothers Jake, Isaac and I were right where we wanted to be—right beside our daddy as he discussed the issues of the day. It was a time when, on the heels of Vietnam and Watergate, young Americans were turning away from public service. But Al Gore didn’t turn away. He jumped feet ﬁrst into public life and was elected one of Tennessee’s youngest congressmen ever. That’s when he became my role model. As a young Congressman, Al Gore didn’t waste any time. He held some of the ﬁrst hearings investigating global warming and its effects on our environment, our health, and our economy. At the height of the Cold War, when those on both sides of the aisle were stuck on how best to bring peace and security to America, Al Gore, at the age of 34, offered a comprehensive strategy to reduce the threat of nuclear war while keeping America safe and strong. Both superpowers took notice, and Al Gore helped change the debate. More than 20 years ago, Al Gore called for serious campaign ﬁnance reform. You know, I was only 4 years old when I cut my ﬁrst political ad. I got on the radio and told the people of Memphis that they should support my daddy because he supported an improved economy and lower cookie prices. Even back then it took real money to put that commercial on the air. While I recognize the importance of political advertising—and I still have a sweet tooth—I feel passionately that we must reform our system if we truly want to engage my generation in American politics. Some pose for reform in photo-ops, but Al Gore is ready to sign a campaign reform bill his ﬁrst day in ofﬁce. The choice before us—a choice that weighs heavier on my generation than perhaps any other—is what kind of America will we have, not in four years but forty years. Will the amazing advances of tomorrow be fenced off for the few- or will they be tools for all of us to build better lives? At this critical time, America needs a leader with the intellect to understand the complexities we face. A leader with experience who can grasp the challenges of our world. At this critical time, America needs Al Gore.

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I remember the fear many of my college classmates in Pennsylvania faced when we graduated eight years ago. For many of us, ﬁnding a good job was tough. Well, eight years and 22 million jobs later, the future is something to get excited about again. But some in the other party would have us go back. Back to a past where prosperity touches only the well-off and well-connected. Back to a past where children learn from outdated textbooks and parents can’t scrape together the money to send their kids to college. Back to a past where polluters write our environmental laws. Back to a past where politicians run up enormous deﬁcits, run factories out of business, and run the economy into the ground. We have a very different vision of the future. Al Gore and Joe Lieberman believe the future is for everyone. Imagine a debt-free economy so strong that everyone shares in the American Dream. Imagine a healthcare system where every American recieves the medicine they need, and where no senior is forced to choose between buying food and ﬁlling a prescription. Imagine a society that treats seniors with the respect and dignity they deserve, and where Social Security and Medicare are strengthened, not only for our parents and grandparents, but for our children and grandchildren. Imagine a nation of clean coastlines, safe drinking water, pristine parks, and air our kids can breathe as they play in those parks. We all recognize that no issue is more critical to our nation’s continued success than how we educate our kids. If we can ﬁnd the will and resources to build prison after prison, then we can build new schools, reduce class sizes, connect every classroom up to the Internet. Surely we can pay teachers what they are worth—surely we must hold schools accountable for results. Imagine giving all our kids the world-class education they deserve. Well, it is time to stop imagining. So, tonight I call on all my reform-minded Republican and Independent friends to join us in our crusade. To join us in making this bold imagination a reality. When I ﬁrst decided to run for Congress in 1996, many political insiders said I didn’t stand a chance. In my ﬁrst campaign, I wanted to meet with every important group in my district, but as a newcomer I didn’t get as many invitations as I’d hoped for. But one place I was welcomed—a place where I grew as a candidate—was at kindergarten graduations. I spoke at more kindergarten graduations than anyone in my district knew existed. Thirty, to be exact. I continue to attend kindergarten graduations to this day. As I see the pride in the eyes of those 5-year-olds and their families … well, to me, it’s just magical.

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For those children and their families, we must continue working for a better life and a better world. Now, as we turn our attention to the choice at hand, let us remember those children, in kindergartens in Memphis and across our nation and remember what this election is really all about: Them. Yes, there will be talk during the campaign of budget surpluses and tax cuts, but it is really all about them. And so, with those ﬁve year olds in mind, our ﬁrst step in encouraging their dreams and unleashing their imaginations is electing Al Gore our next President. For their sake, we can’t go back. For their sake, we must go forward. For their sake, we must build a future for everyone. Thank you and God bless you. Source: Delivered August 15, 2000, Los Angeles, CA. Copyright C Democratic National Convention. AmericanRhetoric.com.

139. Excerpts from ‘‘Al Foster: Drummer, Gentleman, Scholar,’’ April 2003 MODERN DRUMMER MAGAZINE Saxiphonist Sonny Rollins once called Al Foster ‘‘the last of the great living jazz drummers.’’ Jazz great Miles Davis counted Foster as his drummer for twenty years and nineteen albums. Singer Joe Henderson said Foster was his favorite drummer, period. As a Harlem resident in the late 1950s and early 1960s, Foster closely studied the drumming of Philly Joe Jones, Art Taylor, and Elvin Jones at Minton’s Playhouse, Small’s Paradise, and the Apollo Theater. In addition to Miles, Rollins, and Henderson, Foster has played and recorded with musicians such as Thelonious Monk, Cannonball Adderley, Freddie Hubbard, Herbie Hancock, Tommy Flanagan, George Benson, McCoy Tyner, and Charlie Haden. In 2003, he was interviewed by Modern Drummer. MD: Al:

The music scene in New York is very different today compared to when you began gigging here in the early 1960s. My generation was a lot different. We didn’t really think about playing with this guy or that guy to boost our career. We just wanted to play with good people. A lot of young musicians today have it mapped out already. If they play with me or such and such a person they think it will further their career. I even hear them talking that way. I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. But I’m just from another generation. I remember Buster Williams telling me that Miles Davis wanted him to join the band after Ron Carter left. Buster was with Nancy Wilson at the time. He regrets not doing it now. He realizes that his name would be bigger and he would be associated with Miles. But he turned it down. My generation didn’t think that way. Even Wayne Shorter

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stayed with Art Blakey when Miles wanted him. But times are different. We came up with Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, and Bobby and John Kennedy. There was a lot of inspiration for the music then. Deﬁnitely. And there were more innovators around: Monk, Trane, Joe Henderson, Miles, Tony Williams, McCoy Tyner. Every band had its own concept. Louis Hayes once told me that he would travel around Michigan to hear drummers outside of Detroit, because in each town every drummer had his own sound. And there wasn’t a lot of recording with small decks in clubs then. Now there is too much information. That’s what keeps the younger musicians from having that individual concept. That said, I really like Bill Stewart, Brian Blade, and Billy Drummond. They’re actually ﬁnding some new things to say on the instrument. Bill has taken some of Roy Haynes’ stuff and made his own language out of it. With Brian, I hear a lot of Tony, but a lot of himself also. He doesn’t play a lot of time, but you don’t miss it. His time is so good that you can always feel his pulse. And Drummond is a very versatile player who has a great sound. Billy actually collects cymbals that capture the sound of all the great innovators. Art Taylor was one of your big inﬂuences. I liked his time feel and his bebop way of comping with his left hand and bass drum. I wasn’t that into his solos, just the way he swung. His swing actually came out of Art Blakey and Philly Joe Jones. His left hand was like Max Roach, but it was different. He was from New York, a Harlem guy, and I grew up ﬁve blocks away from him. I met him when I was fourteen. Who else was an inﬂuence? Max Roach. He’s the reason I play today. I heard ‘‘Cherokee’’ with Max and Clifford Brown, and that was it for me. I didn’t know that you could make music on the drums like that. Before that I was into Gene Krupa. He was the only drummer I knew about. I had a set when I was ten, and my solos were all on the tom-toms. But when I heard ‘‘Cherokee,’’ it was amazing. It was so fast and the drums were tuned so tight, which I didn’t understand. What did you practice back then? Just what I heard, because I didn’t have any lessons or training. I would put my ear to the speakers and learn. I would wait until Max Roach came out with a new album so I could learn his new ideas. I still hear Max in my playing, though a lot of people say I have my own thing. You were able to see Max, Art Blakey, and others play in the city? At that time the Apollo Theater would have a jazz show at least once a month. I would play hooky from school and go. The ﬁrst show was at eleven

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o’clock. I would pay seventy-ﬁve cents and sneak into the bathroom during the intermissions so I could stay. Or I would go backstage to look at all the giants. I saw Miles Davis with Philly Joe Jones and Trane. Gil Evans had an orchestra with Elvin Jones on drums. Donald Byrd, Pepper Adams, Moms Mabley, Redd Foxx, McCoy Tyner—all the big names would perform. I went down to Gretsch Night at Birdland to see Philly Joe, Elvin, and those guys in 1961, and Miles was there. I saw Art Blakey actually pick up Miles and carry him backstage, like a baby. I had brought a Miles record with me, hoping to get Philly’s and Miles’ autograph. But when Miles came out he said, ‘‘Get out of here. Leave me alone!’’ I had tears in my eyes, and my friends were laughing at me. I told Miles about it years later, but he didn’t remember. So when I was around him I would always hit Miles with my elbow or foot when he didn’t want to sign an autograph. Then he would do it, although he didn’t want to. He’d say, ‘‘Al, you’re too much, man.’’ But that was the ‘70s. Miles changed and got warmer in the ‘80s. Cecily Tyson got him straight. What was Harlem like when you were a kid? There was quite a bit of jazz back then. I lived on 140th and Amsterdam Avenue. Count Basie had a club on 132nd and Seventh Avenue. That’s where I ﬁrst saw Tony Williams with his band Lifetime, with John McLaughlin and Larry Young. Joe Zawinul was in the audience. Before that I saw Miles there with Tony Williams opposite Max’s band with Freddie Hubbard. There was also Small’s Paradise on 135th Street and Seventh Avenue. Minton’s Playhouse was still open. I used to play there a lot in ‘64 with Blue Mitchell and Chick Corea. In fact, Blue Mitchell’s The Thing To Do was my ﬁrst recording session. I was twenty. Your groove is also very strong on Mitchell’s following record, Down With It. How did you evolve from practicing to gigging and developing such a strong pulse? I don’t know if I was that strong at the time. I remember on that session I played loose like Tony Williams on a couple of tunes. On the ﬁrst takes I played it straight like Art Taylor, but then Alfred Lion [Blue Note producer and founder] said it wasn’t swinging. Junior Cook told me to loosen up. I was starting to understand Tony, so I began to play more modern. Tony and Elvin were dominating the scene then. I didn’t really understand those guys because I was into Max, Art Taylor, Philly, and Art Blakey. During the period from the late ‘40s up to the time of Tony and Elvin, most drummers would play drum solos based around paradiddles, and the musicians could really hear the four bars. But Tony and Elvin were playing over the bar line, breaking it up, and even playing over the four bars, but they knew where they were. And they didn’t play paradiddles. They were phenomenal. And then when Jack DeJohnette hit the scene, he took that freedom and looseness even further.

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How did your technique and approach come together? As I said, I’m totally self-taught. I don’t read music at all. But as a kid I would play for hours and hours, coming up with different ideas. Back when I played with Miles, I was really a bebopper, but I was playing that heavy backbeat for two hours a show. It was cool, but I wasn’t doing any jazz gigs at all. I really wanted to get my own sound. No one wants to be a carbon copy of someone else. So I started thinking heavily about ﬁnding my own thing. I practiced a lot at home, for the most part just focusing on time. That did a lot for my playing. Then I drifted into other things. I found myself playing the hi-hat with my left foot with an open heel/toe effect. I started developing the technique, and I thought it was something of my very own. A lot of people told me that. But then I saw an old video of Papa Jo Jones doing it! I thought I came up with something new, but nothing is really new. I think it’s all of the little things that you do that also help to deﬁne your style, like rolling on a cowbell, or playing grace notes on the cymbal with your left hand, or your touch. With Jacky Terrasson, I was struck by how light your sound is, but you still have such a big, weighty pulse. I’m not happy with my sound at all. I wish I sounded like Art Blakey or Elvin Jones. You have to be born with a certain feel or touch. Blakey had that African sound. It was so physical. Art played on my old Slingerland drums once at Minton’s Playhouse, and they were tuned tight like Max’s. But Art managed to capture his own deep sound on my drums. That’s when I realized it’s really physical. But maybe playing that heavy rock stuff with Miles helped my groove sound big. You had a distinct sound with Miles. Your phrasing and conception was strong. That’s the Max Roach inﬂuence; I could hear the changes. I tried to make music or tell a story within the rhythmic pattern. Like with eight-bar phrases, the ﬁrst four bars would state an idea, and in the next four bars I would try to complement that. Your drumming is always telling a story. I never hear you reacting randomly. I did that from the beginning. That came from listening to Max Roach and Sonny Rollins. Max always told a story and stuck with the tune. He played the whole chorus, then another chorus. He never changed the tempo so he could play some fast stuff like a lot of drummers do. There’s nothing wrong with that. Drummers don’t have to play the melody unless you’re on a record date and you only have one or two choruses. But it’s great to hear someone play the melody. That’s what struck me overall about your drumming, that sense of melody and sound. Are you drawn more to beauty than brawn?

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Probably so, beauty and taste. I think Miles was extremely tasteful. He could put one note in a chord and that one note would wipe out most trumpet players playing 32nd notes. Do you still like your drumming on Miles’ records? No. I do like Amandla and We Want Miles. But a lot of what I played in the ‘70s is not tasteful. And some of the music I don’t care for. I thought I was going to play jazz when Miles hired me. I went to his house, and he told me to listen to Sly Stone and Jimi Hendrix. I had to buy all that stuff. But I was very happy when Miles called me to play on Amandla. It’s just Marcus Miller, Miles, and myself. We got a nice jazz groove going. When he called me for the album I asked him, ‘‘What kind of music are we doing?’’ and he said, ‘‘Jazz, mother-fucker!’’ and he hung up on me. He knew I was tired of playing the backbeat with him. I did push him to play some swing. He had been doing some swing in the ‘70s. I don’t know if I should mention this, but we played ‘‘Milestones’’ at a gig at the Keystone Corner when Dave Liebman was in the band. That was the opening tune, and I just stopped playing because I thought it sounded so bad. The band couldn’t cut it. We had a Motown bass player. To me, we sounded like a high school band trying to play like Miles. That’s what I said to Miles. He saw that I wasn’t going to play, so he walked off. Then we all left. The club owner had to give people back their money. After I told Miles what I thought that night, I thought I’d be ﬁred. But he and I became real tight. I think he wanted people to be honest with him. Everybody really looked up to Miles and loved him. But he knew that I was honest and loyal. Did you have to audition for Miles? No. The ﬁrst time I played with him was on a record. I think it was Big Fun. I walked in the studio after he heard me at The Cellar. He called me to come to the studio. Herbie Hancock, Billy Hart, and a bunch of great people were there. Miles came over and gave me the music, and I thought, ‘‘Oh shit.’’ I got up the nerve and said, ‘‘Miles, I don’t read.’’ He said, ‘‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll show you what to play.’’ It seems that you also had a special rapport with Joe Henderson. That whole era from the ‘40s to the ‘60s produced such great musicians. I don’t really consider myself a great innovator. But I am proud that I was always called again from the various leaders I worked with. That’s what’s important, to give them what they want so they’ll call you again. And everybody I’ve played with has called me again. Sonny Rollins told Stanley Crouch that I was the last of the great living jazz drummers. What a compliment, especially coming from such an innovator. But I always try to complement everyone I work with, whether I like what I’m playing or not. After a while you know what people want.

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What do you practice to develop touch? I try to practice lightly. I played so loud and hard with Miles, and even on some of the gigs I did with Sonny. That’s what they wanted. But now I’m going back to the ‘60s, approaching things in a much lighter way. I just don’t think you have to bash. You can get the same intensity without bashing. Billy Higgins proved that. You could feel the tune building with each chorus when he played. You could feel the ﬁre getting hotter without the volume getting louder. That’s what I’m trying to get back to. Any advice you can give on ﬁnding one’s own style? You should be able to ﬁnd things for yourself without copying somebody else. You can get an idea from somebody. That’s what Bill Stewart does with Roy Haynes. It’s impossible to totally do your own thing. All the things I have come up with, different stickings and such, still sound like Max to me. But the way I play it makes it totally mine. Why do you sit so low and have your cymbals positioned high? I’ve been doing it for many years. I saw Art Taylor at the Apollo with Thelonious Monk and he had his cymbals up high, but I didn’t realize that he was also sitting high. So I went home and raised my cymbals but not my seat. I assumed he was sitting low. Now it’s such a habit for me that I can’t change. It’s not a good way to play. I’m actually trying to change. But doesn’t that give you a lot of rebound off the cymbals? I think you can keep better time when cymbals are positioned lower. Your arms aren’t hanging in the air. So I’ve been working on getting comfortable with a lower position. On the State Of The Tenor records with Joe Henderson, you often play long rhythmic phrases that seem to match his melodic phrases. What did you learn from him? What I learned from all of those guys was how to tell a story. Joe sounded like a drummer to me. He played a lot of rhythmic patterns. I get off when I play with people like that. You can copy some things from them and it will sound like you. I miss Joe a lot. He would always call me when he worked in New York. Did you have to play differently with Henderson as opposed to Sonny Rollins? I had to play harder with Sonny. That’s what I felt he wanted. If I didn’t, if I ‘‘tipped’’ a little bit, sometimes he thought it wasn’t happening or wondered where the energy was. My whole thing is to give people what they want. They’re paying me, so my job is to make them comfortable and make them sound good. Joe never said anything to me except that I was his favorite drummer. He really loved the way I played. You were gigging around New York before you started recording? Yes. I did ﬁve years at the Playboy Club, then two years at The Cellar, from ‘70 to ‘72, which is when I met Miles. We played jazz and a little top-40 at the Playboy Club. The band included pianist Larry Willis,

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the great trombonist Kai Winding, Earl May on trumpet, and Al Gaffer on guitar. So many great people would sit in—Billy Cobham, George Benson, Stan Getz.… During those times I was raising four daughters by myself. So it was a great thing that I had seven years of solid work in New York City. I believe that God gave me that work because I had the children. And it’s funny, but Miles didn’t believe that I had the kids. He told me to bring them by to meet him. I did, and he scared the shit out of them. They didn’t like him at all. But Miles was my friend. I miss him. Miles was such a hip human being. I felt funny being younger than he was, because I was so much more old-fashioned than he was. I just wanted to play straight-ahead jazz from the ‘60s. He was always reaching for things. His last record was a rap record. You recently recorded with the ‘‘supergroup’’ ScoLoHoFo. You wrote a couple of the songs. I wrote two tunes, a bossa nova called ‘‘Bittersweet,’’ and one that I wrote for my son, titled ‘‘Brandyn.’’ It’s an uptempo tune with an eight-bar vamp after each chorus. I’ve always been insecure about my writing, so I never push my tunes on anybody. I regret it now, though. I would have loved to hear Joe Henderson play my songs. I have quite a few tunes. Miles even recorded one of them in 1983, although it was never released. Do you compose on piano? Yes, by ear. I can play a few chords. When did ScoLoHoFo come together? We actually put the band together a couple of years ago and went to Europe. It was a great tour, so we decided to do it again. It’s always good playing with such incredible musicians. We went out on tour this past summer, did the record, and we’ll be playing again in the spring. I can’t wait. I’m practicing very hard for it right now. What do you practice now? I just sit down and play and develop what comes out. When I’m working on soloing, I like to incorporate a lot of doubles into my playing. I’ll start them with either hand, and move them all over the drums and cymbals. I also like to break up the doubles between different sound sources, like cymbals and toms, or snare drum and ﬂoor tom, that sort of thing. It ends up sounding like I’m playing some very complex patterns. Finally, why do you think everyone wants to hire Al Foster? Well, I guess it’s because I consciously try to give the leader what he wants. I’ve been lucky enough to come up with something that would ﬁt what a leader was doing and make them happy. You can almost always tell on the ﬁrst night how things are going to go by how many compliments you get. If they like the ﬁrst night, you know you’re on the right track.

Source: Courtesy of Modern Drummer Publications, Inc.

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140. Excerpts from ‘‘Steve Smith: Confessions of an Ethnic Drummer,’’ May 2003 BILL MILKOWSKI, MODERN DRUMMER MAGAZINE One of the most acclaimed drummers in rock, pop, and jazz in the modern era, Steve Smith was interviewed by Modern Drummer magazine. His understanding of how African American musical forms—especially ‘‘patting juba’’—evolved into modern genres is impressive, and gives modern music afﬁcianados a helpful history lesson. He also speaks to his experiences as an African American musician in the modern era’s particularly commercialized music industry. MD:

Following an awesome display of mondo-technique from a succession of heavyweight chopsmeisters like Kim Plainﬁeld, Dave Weckl, and Horacio ‘‘El Negro’’ Hernandez (all of whom the packed house of aspiring drummers ate up with delight), Smith took the stage and proceeded to hold court with simply a snare and a pair of brushes. No imposing double bass barrage, no acrobatic ﬁlls or traversing the kit with pumped up attack, no heroic cross-sticking or clave action on a wood block triggered by a foot pedal. No chops grandstanding, no ﬂailing, no sweating. Just snare and brushes, a totally relaxed approach, and a deep desire to make music. It was the perfect Zen-like response to the parade of whirlwind sticking that had preceded him, the ultimate example of ‘‘less is more.’’

If Smith hadn’t won the crowd over by that point—playing Ed Thigpen in the wake of Billy Cobham’s thunder—he certainly did with his next savvy maneuver. Taking his hi-hat and a single stick to the front of the stage, he proceeded to wow the crowd with a demonstration of stick balancing points that was part Papa Jo Jones, part Harlem Globetrotters. By the time he had the stick balancing and rebounding in seamless sequence off his shin, his ankle, his arm, rolling it between ﬁngers without dropping a beat, the crowd offered up ecstatic applause. It’s an oldschool move that never fails to entertain. Papa Jo did it himself before an awed crowd at the 1957 Newport Jazz Festival, and living legend Roy Haynes continues to do it to this day. But no one expected a bona ﬁde fusion-head, Mr. Vital Information, to pull off such a slick, old-school trick with such smooth aplomb. Everyone in the house knew that Steve Smith was a killer drummer. But who knew he was so hip? As Roy used to say to himself, ‘‘There might be a better drummer than me, but there’s no one hipper.’’ It might be because Smith had been spending a lot of time in the past, so to speak, that he channeled such old-school shtick. Or perhaps he is precisely what drum elder and bop guru Freddie Gruber called him—‘‘An old soul in a young body.’’ As the writer, narrator, and demonstrator of Drumset Technique/History Of The US Beat, a two-disc DVD set from Hudson Music that thoroughly examines the evolution of the drumset in U.S. music while offering examples of how the kit was used in all the major styles, Smith immersed himself in studying the origins of this uniquely American instrument, going all the way back to Africa to ﬁnd clues on how the drumset came to be.

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Using a comprehensive and scholarly approach, Smith traced the evolution of the drumset from hand drums and talking drums to ‘‘patting juba’’ to the incorporation of cymbals and the development of the ﬁrst practical bass drum pedal. This enlightening musical travelogue progresses from early New Orleans jazz at the turn of the twentieth century, to big band jazz in the ‘30s, to bop in the ‘40s, through rhythm & blues, blues, country, gospel, rock ‘n’ roll, funk, and ‘70s fusion. Steve provides detailed examples along the way of how the drummers implemented the kit into the style of the times. In addition, his group, Vital Information, performs seven complete tunes that feature applications of the techniques and complex rhythms that Steve broke down in complete detail in Disc One. A massive undertaking, this comprehensive two-DVD set runs over four and a half hours, along the way providing enlightenment and entertainment for drummers and non-drummers alike. MD: Steve:

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Did you consciously put yourself into a scholarly frame of mind to do this project, Drumset Technique/History Of The US Beat? That mindset of exploring the history of U.S. music is just something that I’ve been living for a long time, so I’ve been in that headspace for quite a few years. Then this project was merely formalizing something that you’ve been thinking about anyway? Yeah, exactly. I guess the place to start is the Vital Information album Where We Come From. Before we did that album back in 1997 I had spent some time investigating Afro-Cuban music. I realized I could learn the patterns of that style of drumming, and I could play it to a degree. But I didn’t really play it well, in my opinion, because I didn’t grow up in the culture. I realized that the best musicians of the genre are literally all from Cuba or Puerto Rico or somewhere else in the Caribbean, and most of them know the history of their music and culture. This inspired me to focus on the music of my own culture and use that same approach. I had to admit that as a U.S. drummer I didn’t know a lot about the origins of my own music. I knew some jazz history, and I had lived through ‘60s rock and the fusion era. But I didn’t know a lot about early jazz, rhythm & blues, blues, country, and gospel. And at a point I really started seeing myself as part of a lineage, a U.S. ethnic drummer playing the percussion instrument of the United States—the drumset. And that triggered your whole investigation of the past? Deﬁnitely. I wanted to be informed about my own past and what I was connected to. I became engrossed in learning about the whole US music scene in general and the development of the drumset in particular. So now I really do see myself as a US ethnic drummer who plays all the different styles of US music. Not that I’m unique doing this—I think there’s a lot of guys doing it, but they may not have identiﬁed themselves as that. It’s been helpful for me to think of myself as a US

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ethnic drummer. It’s a bigger perspective than a ‘‘jazz drummer’’ or ‘‘studio drummer’’ or ‘‘fusion drummer.’’ How did this project come to fruition? How did you research it and what areas in particular did you have to study that you weren’t well acquainted with? I started from the perspective of a jazz drummer, because that’s essentially how I ﬁrst learned to play the drums. As a kid I took lessons from a teacher named Billy Flanagan, who lived in Brockton, Massachusetts. In the 1960s he was already in his sixties, so he had played in the ‘30s and the ‘40s. He was a swing drummer like Louie Bellson or Buddy Rich, and that’s the concept that I learned from him. But growing up in the ‘60s, I just sort of intuited rock ‘n’ roll, because it was in the culture. I ﬁnd that you don’t so much have to study the music that is of the culture that you’re growing up in, you just seem to ‘‘get’’ it. I just got Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix, so I didn’t have to really study that music, just like a kid today wouldn’t have to study Blink-182, Tool, or whatever bands they’re listening to. And with fusion, I saw the ﬁrst generation of it happen. When I got out of high school in ‘72 and went to Berklee, I got to see Return To Forever, Billy Cobham’s band, Tony Williams’ Lifetime, The Headhunters, and all of that. That music, because it was in the air, was part of the culture of my time. So what styles did you have to study in order to prepare for this DVD project? Initially I had done research on older styles without ever thinking about doing a DVD. It was just something I was doing, following my own interests because I was curious and wanted to expand my knowledge and playing ability. But in preparing the DVD, I had to go back and study those styles that didn’t come naturally to me. For example, I had to study the early New Orleans drumming. I didn’t grow up in New Orleans, and obviously I didn’t grow up in the ‘20s or the ‘30s, so that was deﬁnitely something I had to investigate. So I studied the early New Orleans thing and just followed it sequentially through the swing bands and bebop and rhythm & blues and all of that. And then I eventually branched out and started to learn more about all the different styles of US music that at ﬁrst didn’t have drums but were still a big part of the culture. I looked for the earliest blues, gospel, and country recordings that I could ﬁnd. So it started with jazz drumming, and then I followed it back as far as I could go through listening to recordings, reading about it, and talking to people—whatever I could do to get educated. I understand that you’re currently involved in another musicology undertaking. Yes, another project we’re doing with Hudson Music is a history of rock ‘n’ roll drumming. And through that I’ve gotten to meet some of the

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early rock ‘n’ roll drummers, like Buddy Harman, who was probably the ﬁrst Nashville country drummer, and D.J. Fontana, who toured and recorded with Elvis Presley. I’ve also met Jerry Allison from Buddy Holly’s band, The Crickets, and J.M. Van Eaton, who was the house drummer at Sun Records. So I’ve gotten a chance to talk to and interview these guys—Earl Palmer, Hal Blaine, Sandy Nelson. I’m getting a lot of input for this next project and learning about these other styles of music. Any revelations from that project? I found it somewhat of a revelation that there was no such thing as country drummers, blues drummers, gospel drummers, or rock drummers in the very ﬁrst generation of adding drums to those styles of music. It turns out that most of the guys who played on the early country, blues, gospel, and rock ‘n’ roll sessions considered themselves jazz drummers. For example, in 1935, when Bob Wills wanted to add a drummer to his western swing group The Texas Playboys, he got Smokey Dakus, who was a jazz drummer, because there was no such thing as a country drummer at the time. Drums weren’t added to Nashville country music until the ’50s. And the guy who did most of those early country sessions, Buddy Harman, was a jazz drummer as well. If a country musician wanted a drummer on his record at that time, he hired a jazz drummer. So the real revelation is that for about the ﬁrst ﬁfty years of US music history, the only kind of drumming going on was jazz drumming, whether it was New Orleans style, swing style, bebop, or early rhythm & blues drumming, which is really more of a big band concept applied to a small group with a singer or sax player out front. And even into the ‘60s with Motown, those session guys were all working jazz musicians before Motown hired them as the house band. Exactly. And the same with the blues guys. When Chess Records added drums to Muddy Waters’ and other blues players’ recordings in the early ‘50s, there were no blues drummers yet, so they added jazz drummers like Fred Below. Same with gospel recordings; they’d hire Panama Francis or some other New York or Memphis drummer who had a jazz background. It was interesting for me to see that the jazz drummers were really the original drummers in every genre in American music. That’s the common ground that makes it such quintessentially American music. Yeah! And it was even the same thing with early rock ‘n’ roll. Earl Palmer, who is essentially a bebop drummer from New Orleans, played on all of those early Fats Domino and Little Richard sessions recorded in New Orleans during the ’50s. Shortly thereafter, young drummers began identifying themselves as something other than a jazz drummer. When I did these interviews with the early rock drummers, I asked them how they saw themselves.

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MD: Steve:

D.J. Fontana said he clearly saw himself as a jazz drummer. He grew up in the northern part of Louisiana listening to Gene Krupa and wanting to play jazz, but ended up getting the gig with Elvis. It was a great gig, so he did it. But he still saw himself as a jazz drummer. Jerry Allison, when he was a kid, saw Elvis with D.J. But Jerry was fourteen then and thought, ‘‘I wanna be a rock ‘n’ roll drummer.’’ He grew up with and played with Buddy Holly and perceived himself as a rock drummer. But if you listen to what D.J. and Jerry play on the records, their playing is not that far apart. They’re both swinging and playing some real nice parts. The main difference is how they perceived themselves, one as a jazz drummer playing rock and the other as a rock drummer. You could extend that to today, where maybe an R&B drummer was playing on the ﬁrst rap record in the late ‘70s and not considering himself a rap drummer, because there was no such thing at the time. But then quickly, probably within a year or so, there would be a young drummer growing up with the attitude of ‘‘I’m a hip-hop drummer,’’ and that’s his concept. So it doesn’t take long for the thing to catch on where you identify yourself as a particular kind of drummer. But personally I guess I see myself as this overall US drummer. And now you’re a scholar too. I guess so. But I want to address the common ground that you mentioned earlier, the rhythmic common denominator of US music that connects all of these drumming styles. Just like the clave is the rhythmic common denominator of Afro-Cuban music, the swing pulse is the rhythmic common denominator of all US music. And if you listen to the early recordings of jazz, rhythm & blues, country, gospel, blues, or rock ‘n’ roll, it’s all swing. All of those early guys were swinging, from Louis Jordan and Cab Calloway right up to Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis. It all swung. It’s a later development where things started to get straight-8th-note oriented, which comes out of the boogie woogie piano inﬂuence. And that’s a long transition. You can hear records where Little Richard is playing more even 8th notes on piano while Earl Palmer is still playing with a shufﬂe swing feel underneath. But eventually the drummers started to play more and more with the piano players. Then the guitar players also began to imitate the piano with a more straight-8th feel. Listen to Chuck Berry’s ‘‘Johnny B. Goode.’’ Fred Below is the drummer on that and he’s playing swing with a backbeat against the straight-8th guitar. So the point is, if you develop a strong swing pulse in your playing, it opens the door to then being able to play all the different styles, because that is the rhythmic common denominator of all US music. After you have a strong swing pulse, you can adapt yourself to whatever the music needs. And you ﬁgure out what the music needs by hanging with the cats, by just hanging with the guys who do it, and listening.

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Will your investigation of US drumming eventually lead you to more current styles like hip-hop or drum ‘n’ bass? I’m going to do a book that will accompany this DVD and go a little further with it in terms of ‘60s jazz drumming and present-day styles. But as far as doing several volumes of DVDs, I don’t really see the point of it because, to me, all the essential ingredients to playing just about any kind of music that you’re presented with today were developed in the ‘70s. No major innovations on the drums after that? After the ‘70s, drumming-wise, the next most inﬂuential thing that came on the scene was the drum machine. So things really changed in the ‘80s with that inﬂuence. Throughout time there were key players who had innovated playing concepts on the drums. On the DVD, I talk about how the hi-hat comes into play on the kit—that’s like Papa Jo playing with Count Basie. The ﬂoor toms is Gene Krupa with Benny Goodman. The bebop style is Kenny Clarke. The rhythm & blues style … that’s really no one particular drummer but rather a lot of guys who played with people like Louis Jordan or Louis Prima. And then with the fusion stuff, of course, there’s Billy Cobham, Lenny White, and Mike Clark. The next drummer who really turned everyone’s head around with a new concept was Steve Gadd. Steve was probably the ﬁrst drum star who embodied a heavy studio consciousness. All the other drum stars before that, from Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich to Tony Williams to Billy Cobham, were guys who played live. They recorded, but you wouldn’t think of them as studio drummers, per se, and the studio players weren’t stars. With Gadd, things really started to shift. You got the studio sound and deep feel and the very, very accurate time. After Gadd, the next major innovation in drumming was really the drum machine. The Linn Drum became hugely inﬂuential. It was used on so many of the pop tunes of the ‘80s that it triggered a conceptual change, where drummers had to play like that in order to be a pop drummer. You had to play like a machine in order to get work. It’s like the machine was emulating Gadd, and then the next generation emulated the machine. Yeah, it’s a real twist and a real shift. And so, to me, there’s not a lot of new drum vocabulary since the ‘70s, because the emphasis became execution—perfection. Different musics have developed since then, but a whole lot of new vocabulary isn’t necessary to play it. You can pretty much recycle everything that developed up until the ‘70s to play the music. For example, drum ‘n’ bass is basically funk drumming sped up, and hip-hop is funk slowed down. And both come directly from James Brown. It’s still essentially the same rhythms and beats that the James Brown bands developed in the ‘60s and ‘70s. So even though some things have evolved and changed, it remains the same. Hopefully

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some new things will evolve, but for the most part the lion’s share of the vocabulary is already there for drummers. What were some of the surprises that you had in researching the early years—even the African connection? Were there any revelations about how this music developed as you found out about it in your research? I think what was signiﬁcant to me is that in the United States there’s no hand drum tradition, which in fact led to the drumset becoming the rhythmic voice of the African American community. If history had played itself out differently and, let’s say, we had a hand drum tradition in the United States, the drumset may never have been a necessary invention, because we would’ve had a whole percussive orchestra just with hand drumming. But because of the no-drumming laws that were enforced during the time of slavery, the hand drum tradition that develops directly out of African drumming was squelched in this country. It’s true that slaves in New Orleans were allowed to play hand drums once a week at Congo Square. But when you look at that in the scope of how long slavery existed in the United States, which is from the 1500s until the mid-1800s, Congo Square only represents about forty years in the scheme of things. It began in 1817 and lasted until the mid-1850s. I think in some ways the signiﬁcance of Congo Square has been a bit overemphasized. In Congo Square drumming was legal, but there were other places in Louisiana and all over the South that had the African polyrhythmic percussive concepts still being practiced illegally or underground during the entire history of slavery in the US. There’s a great book by Dena Epstein called Sinful Tunes And Spirituals, which is a documentation of everything she could ﬁnd on the African polyrhythmic concept surviving in the United States throughout the years of slavery. She found that people kept the African pulse alive in many ways, such as playing washboards and jawbones, beating sticks on the ﬂoor, or stomping their feet on the ﬂoor. Even some African hand drums or African-styled drums that were made in secret here in the US have been found. And you make an interesting point in the DVD about the polyrhythmic style of ‘‘patting juba’’ leading to the development of the drumset. That’s another percussion instrument, so to speak, that was developed in the US, where the person is playing with feet and hands, incorporating all the limbs just like the drumset. It’s an African polyrhythmic concept, and it was eventually applied to the drumset, which is the only percussion instrument in the world that uses all four limbs. So in effect, the slaves being deprived of hand drums set the stage for the African American community to embrace the drumset. Without hand drams they were forced to adapt to the European percussion

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instruments that were available in the 1800s, the snare drum and the bass drum. I ﬁnd it very interesting that the invention of the drumset is basically the invention of the bass drum pedal. After that happened in the late 1800s, the drumset wasn’t really used for any purpose other than playing jazz, which was a creation of the African American community. So when people ﬁrst played the drumset, they wanted to play with that concept—one person playing a snare drum and a bass drum with that African American swing rhythmic concept. The drumset could just as easily have been used in a symphony orchestra, but it wasn’t. It had some applications in, say, vaudeville and maybe a few situations here and there other than jazz, but they never took off as playing concepts. The playing concept that we now take for granted is essentially an African American concept of how to use the instrument. This concept has been so thoroughly assimilated into the culture that most people don’t even think about it or question how it came to be. Today the drumset is an instrument that’s been accepted all over the world. But it is quintessentially an American instrument that developed from our unique history and culture. Has the drumset continued to develop as a vital expression in recent years? Yes, there are some drummers who are developing new ideas and abilities on the instrument, and there are some players who are simply great musicians playing great music on the drumset. But in general, during the last decade or so, it’s being used in such a limited and basic way, especially in pop music, that I ﬁnd it uninspiring. For example, they hit the snare drum and get one sound, hit the bass drum and get one sound, and play at one dynamic level rather than really getting into the nuance of everything you can do on the drumset as an instrument. There are so many sounds in just the snare drum alone, from a soft press roll to a rimshot or moving the stick from the middle of the head to the edge, where you get a higher pitch and more ring. And why is that being phased out? Well, since the music industry is so driven by fashion and pop culture, there’s really not much ‘‘music’’ left in what passes for music these days. It’s so homogenized to the point that the tones themselves are homogenized? Yeah, in pop music at least. Machines are playing almost everything. People sample a sound, and that one sound sufﬁces as a backbeat. And that’s what’s used rather than getting into the nuance of actually playing the instrument. Meanwhile, I’m getting more and more into the instrument myself. Just the art of playing the snare drum itself—there’s so much to it as far as getting a nice sound out of it and exploring all

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MD: Steve:

the tones that are available. Or getting into the nuances of playing a ride cymbal—there’s so much there. Well, there’s still room for that in jazz. There is. And that’s encouraging.

Source: Courtesy of Modern Drummer Publications, Inc.

141. 2004 Democratic National Convention Keynote Address, July 27, 2004 BARACK OBAMA In 2004, Illinois Senator Barack Obama delivered the keynote address before the Democratic National Convention. Essentially serving as a springboard to Obama’s successful campaign to be the Democratic nominee for president in 2008, this speech wove multiple threads of the American story—immigration, tradition, and opportunity—into very appealing rhetoric. Desiring ‘‘to afﬁrm the greatness of our nation,’’ Obama found his speech to be extraordinarily well-received inside and outside the convention. On behalf of the great state of Illinois, crossroads of a nation, Land of Lincoln, let me express my deepest gratitude for the privilege of addressing this convention. Tonight is a particular honor for me because—let’s face it—my presence on this stage is pretty unlikely. My father was a foreign student, born and raised in a small village in Kenya. He grew up herding goats, went to school in a tin-roof shack. His father—my grandfather—was a cook, a domestic servant to the British. But my grandfather had larger dreams for his son. Through hard work and perseverance my father got a scholarship to study in a magical place, America, that shone as a beacon of freedom and opportunity to so many who had come before. While studying here, my father met my mother. She was born in a town on the other side of the world, in Kansas. Her father worked on oil rigs and farms through most of the Depression years. The day after Pearl Harbor my grandfather signed up for duty; joined Gen. Patton’s army, marched across Europe. Back home, my grandmother raised their baby and went to work on a bomber assembly line. After the war, they studied on the G.I. Bill, bought a house through FHA, and later moved west all the way to Hawaii in search of opportunity. And they, too, had big dreams for their daughter. A common dream, born of two continents. My parents shared not only an improbable love, they shared an abiding faith in the possibilities of this nation. They would give me an African name, Barack, or blessed, believing that in a tolerant America your name is no barrier to success. They imagined me going to the best schools in the land, even though they weren’t rich, because in a generous America you don’t have to be rich to achieve your potential. They are both passed away now. And yet, I know that, on this night, they look down on me with great pride. I stand here today, grateful for the diversity of my heritage, aware that my parents’ dreams live on in my two precious daughters. I stand here knowing that my

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story is part of the larger American story, that I owe a debt to all of those who came before me, and that, in no other country on Earth, is my story even possible. Tonight, we gather to afﬁrm the greatness of our nation—not because of the height of our skyscrapers, or the power of our military, or the size of our economy. Our pride is based on a very simple premise, summed up in a declaration made over two hundred years ago: ‘‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. That they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights. That among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.’’ That is the true genius of America—a faith in simple dreams, an insistence on small miracles. That we can tuck in our children at night and know that they are fed and clothed and safe from harm. That we can say what we think, write what we think, without hearing a sudden knock on the door. That we can have an idea and start our own business without paying a bribe. That we can participate in the political process without fear of retribution, and that our votes will be counted—at least, most of the time. This year, in this election, we are called to reafﬁrm our values and our commitments, to hold them against a hard reality and see how we are measuring up, to the legacy of our forebears, and the promise of future generations. And fellow Americans, Democrats, Republicans, Independents—I say to you tonight: we have more work to do. More work to do for the workers I met in Galesburg, Illinois, who are losing their union jobs at the Maytag plant that’s moving to Mexico, and now are having to compete with their own children for jobs that pay seven bucks an hour. More to do for the father that I met who was losing his job and choking back the tears, wondering how he would pay $4,500 a month for the drugs his son needs without the health beneﬁts that he counted on. More to do for the young woman in East St. Louis, and thousands more like her, who has the grades, has the drive, has the will, but doesn’t have the money to go to college. Now don’t get me wrong. The people I meet—in small towns and big cities, in diners and ofﬁce parks—they don’t expect government to solve all their problems. They know they have to work hard to get ahead—and they want to. Go into the collar counties around Chicago, and people will tell you they don’t want their tax money wasted, by a welfare agency or by the Pentagon. Go into any inner city neighborhood, and folks will tell you that government alone can’t teach our kids to learn—they know that parents have to teach, that children can’t achieve unless we raise their expectations and turn off the television sets and eradicate the slander that says a black youth with a book is acting white. They know those things. People don’t expect government to solve all their problems. But they sense, deep in their bones, that with just a slight change in priorities, we can make sure that every child in America has a decent shot at life, and that the doors of opportunity remain open to all. They know we can do better. And they want that choice. In this election, we offer that choice. Our party has chosen a man to lead us who embodies the best this country has to offer. And that man is John Kerry. John Kerry understands the ideals of community, faith, and service because they’ve deﬁned his life. From his heroic service in Vietnam, to his years as a prosecutor and lieutenant governor, through two decades in the United States Senate, he has devoted himself to this country. Again and again, we’ve seen him make tough choices when easier ones were available.

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His values—and his record—afﬁrm what is best in us. John Kerry believes in an America where hard work is rewarded; so instead of offering tax breaks to companies shipping jobs overseas, he offers them to companies creating jobs here at home. John Kerry believes in an America where all Americans can afford the same health coverage our politicians in Washington have for themselves. John Kerry believes in energy independence, so we aren’t held hostage to the proﬁts of oil companies, or the sabotage of foreign oil ﬁelds. John Kerry believes in the Constitutional freedoms that have made our country the envy of the world, and he will never sacriﬁce our basic liberties, nor use faith as a wedge to divide us. And John Kerry believes that in a dangerous world, war must be an option sometimes, but it should never be the ﬁrst option. You know, a while back, I met a young man named Seamus in a VFW hall in East Moline, Illinois. He was a good-looking kid—six-two, six-three, clear-eyed, with an easy smile. He told me he’d joined the Marines, and was heading to Iraq the following week. And as I listened to him explain why he’d enlisted, the absolute faith he had in our country and its leaders, his devotion to duty and service, I thought this young man was all that any of us might hope for in a child. But then I asked myself: Are we serving Seamus as well as he is serving us? I thought of the 900 men and women—sons and daughters, husbands and wives, friends and neighbors, who won’t be returning to their own hometowns. I thought of the families I’ve met who were struggling to get by without a loved one’s full income, or whose loved ones had returned with a limb missing or nerves shattered, but who still lacked long-term health beneﬁts because they were reservists. When we send our young men and women into harm’s way, we have a solemn obligation not to fudge the numbers or shade the truth about why they’re going, to care for their families while they’re gone, to tend to the soldiers upon their return, and to never ever go to war without enough troops to win the war, secure the peace, and earn the respect of the world. Now let me be clear. Let me be clear. We have real enemies in the world. These enemies must be found. They must be pursued—and they must be defeated. John Kerry knows this. And just as Lieutenant Kerry did not hesitate to risk his life to protect the men who served with him in Vietnam, President Kerry will not hesitate one moment to use our military might to keep America safe and secure. John Kerry believes in America. And he knows that it’s not enough for just some of us to prosper. For alongside our famous individualism, there’s another ingredient in the American saga. A belief that we’re all connected as one people. If there is a child on the south side of Chicago who can’t read, that matters to me, even if it’s not my child. If there’s a senior citizen somewhere who can’t pay for their prescription drugs, and has to choose between medicine and the rent, that makes my life poorer, even if it’s not my grandparent. If there’s an Arab American family being rounded up without beneﬁt of an attorney or due process, that threatens my civil liberties. It is that fundamental belief, it is that fundamental belief—I am my brother’s keeper, I am my sister’s keeper—that makes this country work. It’s what allows us to pursue our individual dreams and yet still come together as one American family. E pluribus unum. ‘‘Out of many, one.’’

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Now even as we speak, there are those who are preparing to divide us, the spin masters, the negative ad peddlers who embrace the politics of anything goes. Well, I say to them tonight, there is not a liberal America and a conservative America— there is the United States of America. There is not a Black America and a White America and Latino America and Asian America—there’s the United States of America. The pundits, the pundits like to slice-and-dice our country into Red States and Blue States; Red States for Republicans, Blue States for Democrats. But I’ve got news for them, too. We worship an awesome God in the Blue States, and we don’t like federal agents poking around in our libraries in the Red States. We coach Little League in the Blue States and yes, we’ve got some gay friends in the Red States. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq and there are patriots who supported the war in Iraq. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America. In the end, that’s what this election is about. Do we participate in a politics of cynicism or do we participate in a politics of hope? John Kerry calls on us to hope. John Edwards calls on us to hope. I’m not talking about blind optimism here—the almost willful ignorance that thinks unemployment will go away if we just don’t think about it, or the health care crisis will solve itself if we just ignore it. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about something more substantial. It’s the hope of slaves sitting around a ﬁre singing freedom songs. The hope of immigrants setting out for distant shores. The hope of a young naval lieutenant bravely patrolling the Mekong Delta. The hope of a mill worker’s son who dares to defy the odds. The hope of a skinny kid with a funny name who believes that America has a place for him, too. Hope in the face of difﬁculty. Hope in the face of uncertainty. The audacity of hope! In the end, that is God’s greatest gift to us, the bedrock of this nation. A belief in things not seen. A belief that there are better days ahead. I believe that we can give our middle class relief and provide working families with a road to opportunity. I believe we can provide jobs to the jobless, homes to the homeless, and reclaim young people in cities across America from violence and despair. I believe that we have a righteous wind at our backs and that as we stand on the crossroads of history, we can make the right choices, and meet the challenges that face us. America! Tonight, if you feel the same energy that I do, if you feel the same urgency that I do, if you feel the same passion I do, if you feel the same hopefulness that I do—if we do what we must do, then I have no doubts that all across the country, from Florida to Oregon, from Washington to Maine, the people will rise up in November, and John Kerry will be sworn in as president, and John Edwards will be sworn in as vice president, and this country will reclaim its promise, and out of this long political darkness a brighter day will come. Source: Delivered on July 27, 2004, Fleet Center, Boston, MA. Copyright C Democratic National Convention. Retrieved from AmericanRhetoric.com.

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142. 2004 Democratic National Convention Address, July 28, 2004 REVEREND AL SHARPTON One of the most controversial African American leaders in modern America, Rev. Al Sharpton, the leader of National Action Network, addressed the 2004 Democratic National Convention in Boston. Invoking the civil rights heroes of generations past—namely, the Freedom Riders and Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s group of marchers in Selma, Alabama—Sharpton reminds the convention delegates of the necessity of continuing the party’s efforts for civil rights. Tonight, I want to address my remarks in two parts. One, I’m honored to address the delegates here. Last Friday, I had the experience in Detroit of hearing President George Bush make a speech. And in the speech, he aksed [asked] certain questions. I hope he’s watching tonight. I would like to answer your questions, Mr. President. To the/our chairman, our delegates, and all that are assembled, we’re honored and glad to be here tonight. I’m glad to be joined by supporters and friends from around the country. I’m glad to be joined by my family, Kathy, Dominique, who will be 18, and Ashley. We are here 228 years after right here in Boston we fought to establish the freedoms of America. The ﬁrst person to die in the Revolutionary War is buried not far from here, a Black man from Barbados, named Crispus Attucks. Forty years ago, in 1964, Fannie Lou Hamer and the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party stood at the Democratic convention in Atlantic City ﬁghting to preserve voting rights for all America and all Democrats, regardless of race or gender. Hamer’s stand inspired Dr. King’s march in Selma, which brought about the Voting Rights Act of 1965. Twenty years ago, Reverend Jesse Jackson stood at the Democratic National Convention in San Francisco, again, appealing to the preserve those freedoms. Tonight, we stand with those freedoms at risk and our security as citizens in question. I have come here tonight to say the only choice we have to preserve our freedom at this point in history is to elect John Kerry the president of the United States. I stood with both John Kerry and John Edwards over 30 occasions in debates during the primary season. I not only debated them, I watched them. I observed their deeds. I looked into their eyes. I am convinced that they are men who say what they mean and mean what they say. I’m also convinced that at a time when a vicious spirit in the body politic of this country that attempts to undermine America’s freedoms—our civil rights, our civil liberties—we must leave this city and go forth and organize this nation for victory for our party and John Kerry and John Edwards in November. But let me quickly say, this is not just about winning an election. It’s about preserving the principles on which this very nation was founded. Look at the current view of our nation worldwide as a result of our unilateral foreign policy. We went from unprecedented international support and solidarity on

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September 12th, 2001, to hostility and hatred as we stand here tonight. We can’t survive in the world by ourselves. How did we squander this opportunity to unite the world for democracy and to commit to the global ﬁght against hunger and disease? We did it with a go-it-alone foreign policy based on ﬂawed intelligence. We were told that we were going to Iraq because there were weapons of mass destruction. We lost hundreds of soldiers. We spent $200 billion dollars at a time we had record state deﬁcits. And when it became clear that there were no weapons, they changed the premise for the war and said: No, we went because of other reasons. If I told you tonight to, ‘‘Let’s leave the FleetCenter; we’re in danger,’’ and when you get outside, you ask me, ‘‘Reverend Al, What is the danger?’’ and I say, ‘‘It don’t matter. We just needed some fresh air,’’ I have misled you—and we were misled. We—We are also faced with the prospect of in the next four years that two or more Supreme Court Justices’ seats will become available. This year we celebrated the anniversary of Brown versus the Board of Education. This court has voted ﬁve to four on critical issues of women’s rights and civil rights. It is frightening to think that the gains of civil and women rights and those movements in the last century could be reversed if this administration is in the White House in these next four years. I suggest to you tonight that if George Bush had selected the court in ‘54, Clarence Thomas would have never got to law school. This is not about a Party. This is about living up to the promise of America. The promise of America says we will guarantee quality education for all children and not spend more money on metal detectors than computers in our schools. The promise of America guarantees health care for all of its citizens and doesn’t force seniors to travel to Canada to buy prescription drugs they can’t afford here at home. The promise of America provides that those who work in our health care system can afford to be hospitalized in the very beds they clean up every day. The promise of America is that government does not seek to regulate your behavior in the bedroom, but to guarantee your right to provide food in the kitchen. The issue of government is not to determine who may sleep together in the bedroom, it’s to help those that might not be eatin’ in the kitchen. The promise of America is that we stand for human rights, whether it’s ﬁghting against slavery in the Sudan, where right now Joe Madison and others are fasting, around what is going on in Sudan; AIDS in Lesotho; police misconduct in this country. The promise of America is one immigration policy for all who seek to enter our shores, whether they come from Mexico, Haiti, or Canada, there must be one set of rules for everybody. We cannot welcome those to come and then try and act as though any culture will not be respected or treated inferior. We cannot look at the Latino community and preach ‘‘one language.’’ No one gave them an English test before they sent them to Iraq to ﬁght for America. The promise of America is that every citizen’s vote is counted and protected, and election schemes do not decide the election. It, to me, is a glaring contradiction that we would ﬁght, and rightfully so, to get the right to vote for the people in the capital of Iraq in Baghdad, but still don’t give

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the federal right to vote for the people in the capital of the United States, in Washington, D.C. Mr. President, as I close, Mr. President, I heard you say Friday that you had questions for voters, particularly African-American voters. And you aksed [asked] the question: Did the Democratic Party take us for granted? Well, I have raised questions. But let me answer your question. You said the Republican Party was the party of Lincoln and Frederick Douglass. It is true that Mr. Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation, after which there was a commitment to give 40 acres and a mule. That’s where the argument, to this day, of reparations starts. We never got the 40 acres. We went all the way to Herbert Hoover, and we never got the 40 acres. We didn’t get the mule. So we decided we’d ride this donkey as far as it would take us. Mr. President, you said would we have more leverage if both parties got our votes, but we didn’t come this far playing political games. It was those that earned our vote that got our vote. We got the Civil Rights Act under a Democrat. We got the Voting Rights Act under a Democrat. We got the right to organize under Democrats. Mr. President, the reason we are ﬁghting so hard, the reason we took Florida so seriously, is our right to vote wasn’t gained because of our age. Our vote was soaked in the blood of martyrs, soaked in the blood of Goodman, Chaney and Schwerner, soaked in the blood of four little girls in Birmingham. This vote is sacred to us. This vote can’t be bargained away. This vote can’t be given away. Mr. President, in all due respect, Mr. President, read my lips: Our vote is not for sale. And there’s a whole generation of young leaders that have come forward across this country that stand on integrity and stand on their traditions, those that have emerged with John Kerry and John Edwards as partners, like Greg Meeks, like Obama Baracka [Barack Obama], like our voter registration director, Marjorie Harris, like those that are in the trenches. And we come with strong family values. Family values is not just those with twocar garages and a retirement plan. Retirement plans are good. But family values also are those who had to make nothing stretch into something happening, who had to make ends meet. I was raised by a single mother who made a way for me. She used to scrub ﬂoors as a domestic worker, put a cleaning rag in her pocketbook, and ride the subways in Brooklyn so I’d have food on the table. But she taught me as I walked her to that subway that life is about not where you start, but where you’re going. That’s family values. And I wanted—I wanted somebody in my community—I wanted to show that example. As I ran for President, I hoped that one child that come out of the ghetto like I did, could look at me walk across the stage with governors and senators and know they didn’t have to be a drug dealer, they didn’t have to be a hoodlum, they didn’t have to be a gangster, they could stand up from a broken home, on welfare, and they could run for President of the United States. As you know, I live in New York. I was there September 11th when that despicable act of terrorism happened.

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Few days after, I left home—my family had taken in a young man even who lost his family. And as they gave comfort to him, I had to do a radio show that morning. When I got there, my friend James Entome [sp?] said, ‘‘Reverend, we’re going to stop at a certain hour and play a song, synchronized with 900 and 90 other stations.’’ I said, ‘‘That’s ﬁne.’’ He said, ‘‘We’re dedicating it to the victims of 9/11.’’ I said, ‘‘What song are you playing?’’ He said, ‘‘We’re playing ‘America the Beautiful.’’’ And the particular station I was at, they played that rendition song by Ray Charles. As you know, we lost Ray a few weeks ago, but I sat there that morning and listened to Ray sing through those speakers, ‘‘Oh beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain, for purple mountains’ majesty across the fruited plain.’’ And it occurred to me as I heard Ray singing, that Ray wasn’t singing about what he knew, ‘cause Ray had been blind since he was a child. He hadn’t seen many purple mountains. He hadn’t seen many fruited plains. He was singing about what he believed to be. Mr. President, we love America, not because of all of us have seen the beauty all the time. But we believed if we kept on working, if we kept on marching, if we kept on voting, if we kept on believing, we would make America beautiful for everybody. Starting November, let’s make America beautiful again. Thank you. And God bless you. Source: Delivered July 28, 2004, Fleet Center, Boston, MA. Copyright C Democratic National Convention. Retrieved from AmericanRhetoric.com.

143. Cindy Birdsong: Supreme Replacement, March 16, 2007 JIM BAGLEY Cindy Birdsong was not an original member of the legendary Detroit singing group, the Supremes, but she joined the group in 1967 and quickly became a fan favorite. In an interview Birdsong gave in Los Angeles in 2007, she outlined her role in the rise of this Motown group. Cindy Birdsong:

Interviewer: CB:

I was born in Mt. Holly, New Jersey and raised in Camden, the oldest of eight kids. My mother sang in the adult choir at the Baptist church in Camden. They didn’t have a youth choir, but the pastor let me join the adult choir when I was in my early teens. I loved doing that, but I never felt that I would be a singer. Ever. I thought that I was going to be an artist, but my parents couldn’t afford to send me to art school … I then started taking vocal lessons, piano lessons, dance lessons, trying to get myself prepared for something in show business. How did The Bluebelles come to be formed? I came home from work one day and my mom said a friend of the family, Andrew Wilde, had a manager, Bernard Montaque,

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who was looking to put together a girl group. They had been auditioning in Philadelphia for a week and I went to try out on the last day. They had already picked three girls: Patti (Labelle), Nona (Hendryx), and Sarah (Dash). Patti was from Philadelphia, while Nona and Sarah were from Trenton, New Jersey. I was selected for the ﬁnal spot and—from the start—we sounded good together. Wasn’t the Bluebelles’ ﬁrst hit ‘‘I Sold My Heart To The Junkman’’ (1962) ﬁrst recorded by The Starlets? Yes. One of the girls in [The Starlets] had shot and killed her husband. We walked into a studio where Harold Robinson was looking for a new girl group. He played this record and asked if we could sing it just like them. We knew the song; it was already on the radio. Mr. Robinson said, ‘‘I will give you girls a record deal, but I ﬁrst want you to re-record it and put it out under your own name. These girls cannot go out and promote it.’’ He didn’t tell us why … We didn’t get paid for recording it. Just a contract. Patti sounded so much like their lead singer, it was eerie. To this day, I can’t tell the two versions apart. The Bluebelles had some more hits (‘‘Down The Aisle,’’ ‘‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’’) for Philadelphia labels and then went to Atlantic Records in 1966, where you experienced surprisingly little success. We would have had a big hit at Atlantic except for a British guy named Wayne Fontana and his group The Mindbenders. [Fontana’s] manager was visiting New York and came to the studio when we were recording ‘‘Groovy Kind Of Love.’’ He loved it and stole a copy of our recording and had The Mindbenders record it and release it before we could get our version out. They topped the charts and our original rendition ended up as an album track. Regardless of radio play, the Bluebelles were always a popular live attraction. We got a lot of work and a lot of attention. We were dubbed the ‘‘Sweethearts Of The Apollo’’ by the owners of that theatre, with more standing ovations than any girl group who ever performed there. In those days, they threw tomatoes, pennies, boiled eggs if they didn’t like you. They were rough! They’re still rough! But they loved us! Tell us about your ﬁrst encounter with The Supremes. The Bluebelles rarely performed with The Supremes, because they were usually touring on the Motortown Revue with the other Motown acts. But one time, we were on the same show and our dressing rooms were across from each other. I loved the glamour of

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the Supremes. The Bluebelles dressed like little girls, with navy tops and bell-bottom pants and wore hardly any makeup. All week long, I would tell the other girls that I was going to the bathroom and then I would go up to the stage and watch The Supremes perform. One night between shows, I knocked on their door. Florence [Ballard] opened the door and said, ‘‘Hey, you’re the girl from the Bluebelles! Everybody says you look like me!’’ I told her, ‘‘They tell me the same thing about you.’’ Florence said, ‘‘Come on in.’’ Diana [Ross] and Mary [Wilson] looked at me sternly at ﬁrst. I was looking at their gowns and oohing and aahing over them. Diana asked if I had ever worn rouge and I said ‘‘No, we’re not allowed to. No eyelashes either.’’ How about wigs? ‘‘No, we just wear our hair short.’’ She asked if I would like to try on one of my wigs and I said ‘‘yeah’’ and she said ‘‘sit down.’’ She put the wig on me and I said ‘‘Ooh, I like that! ‘‘ She then said ‘‘Well, try some eyelashes!’’ I said ‘‘How many do you wear?’’ She said, ‘‘I put four eyelashes on each eye!’’ She put two on each of my eyes and I told her ‘‘That looks great, I love it!’’ She then put on rouge and lipstick, earrings, the whole nine yards.’’ I told them, ‘‘I’m gonna go show my girls’’ and I went back to the Bluebelles’ dressing room. When I opened the door, they said ‘‘Look Mr. Montaque, she’s been over in the enemy’s camp!’’ He said, ‘‘Get that stuff off your face right now!’’ That was the end of my glamour phase as a Bluebelle. How did you end up joining The Supremes? I was contacted in April 1967 about possibly joining The Supremes and I went to Mr. Gordy’s house with one of my brothers and sat in his living room. Until I got there, I had no idea who it was they wanted me to replace. The door to the den opened and out came Florence who was crying. I said ‘‘Hi Flo’’ and she was so upset, she just kept walking. I knew then that it was her that they were replacing. I felt really bad. But I realized they were going to ﬁnd a replacement for her anyway, even if it was not me. Florence was being difﬁcult and threatening not to show up at performances. My interview with Mr. Gordy went very well. He had me sing a song with Diana and Mary a capella. I knew all of The Supremes’ songs and moves from watching them perform. It was like I had been working with them for years. I was asked to replace Florence on a permanent basis. I only had a couple of hours to make my decision, as The Supremes’ Hollywood Bowl concert was the next night. Mr. Gordy told me that I couldn’t talk to anyone about joining The Supremes, so I called my

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manager and told him that I was in Detroit and I was going to be a part of something else. My manager was livid and said ‘‘You better get yourself back home!’’ I didn’t personally tell the Bluebelles I was leaving, and while I knew I’d miss them, being a Supreme was my dream. After you performed as a Supreme at the Hollywood Bowl, didn’t Florence return to the group for a couple of months? Yes she did, because no paperwork had been drawn up yet. Florence agreed to come back on what she thought was a trial basis. I replaced her permanently in Las Vegas in July. ‘‘TCB’’ (1968)—co-starring The Temptations—was a great television special. What was it like working with The Temptations? It was glorious. We were the ﬁrst rock and roll groups to have our own special. It broke ratings records for NBC and led to another special [GIT On Broadway] the following year. The Temptations were like brothers. My favorite was Paul [Williams]. He was a street kid, a little rougher than the other guys, very genuine. When I was with the Bluebelles, he would come backstage and let us know if we didn’t have our harmonies right and then tell us how to get them right. He was also an excellent choreographer, always right on with his steps, very meticulous. It’s been rumored that you and Mary didn’t sing on The Supremes’ late ‘60s singles. The one recording that Mary and I didn’t sing on was our biggest hit ‘‘Someday We’ll Be Together’’ (1969). When we would come off the road, we would go right to the studio to record. Mary and I would usually do the backgrounds ﬁrst and then go home and invite whoever was in town to come over for a little get-together. Diana complained that because she had to do her lead vocals after us, she never got to go out at night and have fun like we did. For ‘‘Someday We’ll Be Together,’’ she went in to record ﬁrst and ended up spending a lot of time working on her vocals with Johnny Bristol and we had to leave town again before we got a chance to do the background on it. When Diana announced she was leaving the group, did you think that would be the end of The Supremes? Yes. I wondered what I was gonna do now. But Berry assured us we would continue. He had seen Jean Terrell perform with her brother Ernie and thought she’d be the perfect replacement for Diana. Then he wanted Syreeta Wright—who had sung background vocals on Supremes recordings with Mary and I—to become the new lead singer. For some reason, we clashed at the time with Syreeta and didn’t want her to replace Diana. She eventually became a dear friend of mine.

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I didn’t realize at the time the consequences of disagreeing with Mr. Gordy’s decisions. In hindsight, I probably wouldn’t have insisted on Jean, since Mr. Gordy then stopped fully supporting us. His feeling was ‘‘How can you help someone who won’t listen to you?’’ But I loved Jean’s voice. We made a lot of hits with her. With Jean, The Supremes were sounding like a ‘‘group’’ again for the ﬁrst time in years. Our producer Frank Wilson insisted Mary and I be more prominent on the vocals. Mary had always wanted to do more vocals. When I arrived in the group in 1967, Mary had one solo in our show: ‘‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You.’’ For years it was the only song she was allowed to sing lead on. And she had to ﬁght to get that one song! Mr. Gordy saw that we all had solo parts on our ﬁrst album Right On and he told us he wanted us all to sing leads in our live shows, which we did. Your thoughts on the ﬁrst post-Diana single ‘‘Up The Ladder To The Roof’’ (1970)? It is one of my favorite Supremes songs. I love its spiritual connotations. It was also my ﬁrst chance to sing a line solo on a Supremes recording. What about ‘‘Stoned Love (1970)?’’ Great intro. Loved the horns. It’s one of Jean’s best performances. She let loose on that vocal and did some great improvising. She sounded like Diana, but was a bit more soulful. ‘‘Nathan Jones’’ (1971)? LOVED it, but it was a difﬁcult song to record. We sang off the beat and it was hard to get all three of us to come, in on it at the same time. Whenever I hear it, it makes me want to dance! What was it like recording three albums with the Four Tops? They were more laid back than The Temptations, a bit more mellow and mature, but deﬁnitely fun. Jean sounded great with Levi [Stubbs]. I am surprised we didn’t get more hits with them. I love our rendition of ‘‘River Deep Mountain High’’ (1970). I think we did it better than Tina Turner. When and why did you leave the group the ﬁrst time? I got married to Charles Hewlett in May 1970 and I left the group in 1972 when I got pregnant. I had waited a long time to have a baby and I decided I wanted to stay home and enjoy it. Did you sing on the Floy Joy (May 1972) album? Yes. I recorded it before I left. Everyone thinks it’s [Cindy’s replacement] Lynda Laurence singing on it since her picture is on the cover. I refused to come in for the photo shoot because I was so big from being pregnant, plus I was living in Las Vegas at the

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time and I didn’t feel like making the trip to LA.… When I was ﬁve months pregnant, I did ﬂy to New York City to perform with Mary and Lynda at The Copacabana when Jean got sick during their engagement. When did you return to The Supremes? In late 1973, when my son David was a toddler. Jean and Lynda had left the group and Mary said, ‘‘Come back! I need you right now!’’ We auditioned about 40 ladies to replace Jean at Mary’s home in Vegas, but nobody was right. Then Lamont Dozier of Holland-Dozier-Holland told us there was a girl that he dated who was beautiful and had a great voice. ‘‘Her name is Scherrie Payne and she used to be with [the group] Glass House.’’ My husband and I picked Scherrie up at the airport and our ﬁrst reaction was ‘‘She’s so little!’’ But she was a blessing to The Supremes because her voice was so phenomenal. Why did you leave the group for good in 1976? I was burnt out. My marriage was coming to an end. Being a Supreme didn’t mean the same to me anymore. I also thought the group would go on a lot longer. Instead, they disbanded about a year after Susaye Greene replaced me. Why do you think The Supremes reunion with Diana and Mary on ‘‘Motown 25’’ (1983) didn’t come off very well? That was a mess. I was eager to do it, but there was not a good feeling among us. We were supposed to do two full songs and we didn’t get through one. It was edited to look like we were there just to begin the ﬁnale … The highlight of ‘‘Motown 25’’ was supposed to be our reunion. Instead, it was Michael Jackson who stole the show! What type of work did you do after leaving the Supremes? I had an ofﬁce job at UCLA Medical Center for three years. Then, I called Suzanne DePasse at Motown—my best friend at the time I joined The Supremes—and said ‘‘I’m bored. I need to do something and make some money!’’ She had some writers working on a mini-series about The Supremes and I signed on as a creative consultant. NBC bought it, but it was never ﬁlmed. Diana chose not to sign off on it, but I still got paid! I worked at Motown for about a year and a half … when I decided to begin my solo act. What prompted you to start a solo music career in 1987? While working at Motown, I came across a handsome young man named Bernard Jay who became my manager and encouraged me to go solo. I debuted my solo act in New York City and then performed at the Hippodrome in London. Both shows were well attended and well received. Diana was in London at the time of that show and she came to support me, even though she had been bedridden with the ﬂu. We had a really fun time together after the show.

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I released a single, ‘‘Dancing Room,’’ and had planned to do an album; but it didn’t go as well as I’d hoped and I decided that a solo career wasn’t for me. I had become a Christian and been to Bible school and felt I needed to get myself ready for the ministry. I served as a minister for many years and then I did speaking engagements where I often performed gospel music. You joined the other Bluebelles at the group’s induction into the Rhythm and Blues Hall of Fame in 2000. I hadn’t seen the girls in many, many years. We sang ‘‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’’ together and got such applause! They wouldn’t let us off the stage … I now keep in touch regularly with Sarah. Patti, I will see when she is in town [L.A.] performing. I don’t see Nona at all. I think she is living in London and New York City. Do you keep in touch with any of The Supremes? I am The Supremes’ common denominator. They all talk to me but not necessarily to each other. I talk to Mary and Diana. I talk to Susaye and Jean. Jean just moved out of California and says she’s not coming back! Scherrie and I are very close. I see Lynda once in awhile. Recently, I went to see Scherrie and Lynda in the FLOS (Former Ladies Of the Supremes) show and they were so good! Why didn’t you join Diana on the Return To Love Supremes ‘‘reunion’’ tour (2000)? I was willing and they made me a good offer, but I felt—even though I love Scherrie and Lynda [Diana’s Return To Love tourmates]—that it should be Diana, Mary, and myself on that tour. And Mary wasn’t in total agreement with what they offered her. I waited for Mary to make a decision and that led to my exclusion as well. I can understand if Diana wouldn’t want to do another Supremes tour since that one didn’t go well. But I hope we can forget any negativity in the past and do it. I don’t think there can be harmony between the three of us unless we get together and perform again. You performed on the ‘‘Motown 45’’ special (2004) with Kelly Rowland and Mary. How did that pairing come about? The producers chose Kelly Rowland. It seemed like a good choice. I love [Kelly’s group] Destiny’s Child and I always thought that Kelly looked a lot like Mary did back when I joined The Supremes. Kelly was a sweetheart and we got along with her very well. I’m sorry that our segment didn’t turn out better. As far as Mary and I go, it was our worst TV appearance ever. We just didn’t sound good. What have you been working on recently?

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Most of my time has been spent writing gospel songs. I have composed over 150. While I have written for other people, some are intended for me and I plan to put out a gospel album. How are your memoirs progressing? I have a put together a synopsis which I submitted to a literary agent in New York City who assured me he could sell it. My book will be a little different. I don’t plan to trash anybody.

Source: Goldmine Magazine, March 16, 2007.

144. A More Perfect Union Speech, March 18, 2008 BARACK OBAMA In reaction to inﬂammatory racial remarks made by his former pastor, Chicago minister the Reverend Jeremiah Wright Jr., presidential candidate Barack Obama delivered a landmark speech on racism during his 2008 bid for the Democratic nomination for the presidency of the United States. Speaking at the Constitution Center in Philadelphia on March 18, Obama said the aims of his campaign spoke to the need of ﬁnding a fundamental path by which all Americans can work to pursue a better future. He said Wright’s remarks both in and out of the pulpit were divisive and came at a crossroad in American history. The speech is signiﬁcant for many reasons but speciﬁcally because it confronted the issue of race head-on in a campaign that had been careful not to portray the candidate as merely being the only viable black candidate to ever run for the presidency. Campaign aides warned Obama against giving the speech because of fears that it would give his critics bait in what had become an increasingly tight race for the Democratic nomination for president against Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton, the former ﬁrst lady and wife of former president Bill Clinton. The signiﬁcance of Obama’s speech on race was noted in a broad range of commentary outlets, including Matthew Yglesias on The Atlantic magazine’s web outlet, TheAtlantic.com. Yglesias said the timing of the speech and the era in which it was given may have signaled an end to media manipulation of the news. In the past, news outlets could alter the interpretation or signiﬁcance of speeches by printing or broadcasting small segments of statements known as ‘‘sound bites’’ in radio and television broadcasting.…’’ Sound bites are less important today because video recordings or written transcripts of speeches in their entirety are commonly available to anyone online. Because the speech was released in advance to the media, The Democratic Strategist, a journal of public opinion and political strategy, said the speech received widespread praise even before it was given for ‘‘its unexpected honesty and candor for saying things such as ‘‘racial anger is real.’’ Everyone knows this but it is rarely acknowledged. Matt Compton, a spokesman for the Democratic Legislative Committee, made this observation the day after the March 18, 2008 speech: ‘‘The campaign put the video of the entire speech on YouTube before lunch. Twenty-four hours after

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Obama walked off the stage in Philadelphia, this 37-minute address has already been viewed more than 1,000,000 times.’’ The New York Times posted a transcript of the speech in full online shortly after the speech was delivered, and it was among most popular stories on the website. Minutes after Obama walked off stage, radio stations far and wide, and ranging from National Public Radio outlets to hip-hop stations in the deep south all interrupted play lists and scheduled programming to broadcast the speech live or in rebroadcasts throughout the country. ‘‘We the people, in order to form a more perfect union.’’ Two hundred and twenty one years ago, in a hall that still stands across the street, a group of men gathered and, with these simple words, launched America’s improbable experiment in democracy. Farmers and scholars; statesmen and patriots who had traveled across an ocean to escape tyranny and persecution ﬁnally made real their declaration of independence at a Philadelphia convention that lasted through the spring of 1787. The document they produced was eventually signed but ultimately unﬁnished. It was stained by this nation’s original sin of slavery, a question that divided the colonies and brought the convention to a stalemate until the founders chose to allow the slave trade to continue for at least twenty more years, and to leave any ﬁnal resolution to future generations. Of course, the answer to the slavery question was already embedded within our Constitution—a Constitution that had at its very core the ideal of equal citizenship under the law; a Constitution that promised its people liberty, and justice, and a union that could be and should be perfected over time. And yet words on a parchment would not be enough to deliver slaves from bondage, or provide men and women of every color and creed their full rights and obligations as citizens of the United States. What would be needed were Americans in successive generations who were willing to do their part—through protests and struggle, on the streets and in the courts, through a civil war and civil disobedience and always at great risk— to narrow that gap between the promise of our ideals and the reality of their time. This was one of the tasks we set forth at the beginning of this campaign—to continue the long march of those who came before us, a march for a more just, more equal, more free, more caring and more prosperous America. I chose to run for the presidency at this moment in history because I believe deeply that we cannot solve the challenges of our time unless we solve them together—unless we perfect our union by understanding that we may have different stories, but we hold common hopes; that we may not look the same and we may not have come from the same place, but we all want to move in the same direction—towards a better future for our children and our grandchildren. This belief comes from my unyielding faith in the decency and generosity of the American people. But it also comes from my own American story. I am the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas. I was raised with the help of a white grandfather who survived a Depression to serve in Patton’s Army during World War II and a white grandmother who worked on a bomber assembly line at Fort Leavenworth while he was overseas. I’ve gone to some of the best schools in America and lived in one of the world’s poorest nations. I am married to a black American who carries within her the blood of slaves and slave

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owners—an inheritance we pass on to our two precious daughters. I have brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, uncles and cousins, of every race and every hue, scattered across three continents, and for as long as I live, I will never forget that in no other country on Earth is my story even possible. It’s a story that hasn’t made me the most conventional candidate. But it is a story that has seared into my genetic makeup the idea that this nation is more than the sum of its parts—that out of many, we are truly one. Throughout the ﬁrst year of this campaign, against all predictions to the contrary, we saw how hungry the American people were for this message of unity. Despite the temptation to view my candidacy through a purely racial lens, we won commanding victories in states with some of the whitest populations in the country. In South Carolina, where the Confederate Flag still ﬂies, we built a powerful coalition of African Americans and white Americans. This is not to say that race has not been an issue in the campaign. At various stages in the campaign, some commentators have deemed me either ‘‘too black’’ or ‘‘not black enough.’’ We saw racial tensions bubble to the surface during the week before the South Carolina primary. The press has scoured every exit poll for the latest evidence of racial polarization, not just in terms of white and black, but black and brown as well. And yet, it has only been in the last couple of weeks that the discussion of race in this campaign has taken a particularly divisive turn. On one end of the spectrum, we’ve heard the implication that my candidacy is somehow an exercise in afﬁrmative action; that it’s based solely on the desire of wide-eyed liberals to purchase racial reconciliation on the cheap. On the other end, we’ve heard my former pastor, Reverend Jeremiah Wright, use incendiary language to express views that have the potential not only to widen the racial divide, but views that denigrate both the greatness and the goodness of our nation; that rightly offend white and black alike. I have already condemned, in unequivocal terms, the statements of Reverend Wright that have caused such controversy. For some, nagging questions remain. Did I know him to be an occasionally ﬁerce critic of American domestic and foreign policy? Of course. Did I ever hear him make remarks that could be considered controversial while I sat in church? Yes. Did I strongly disagree with many of his political views? Absolutely—just as I’m sure many of you have heard remarks from your pastors, priests, or rabbis with which you strongly disagreed. But the remarks that have caused this recent ﬁrestorm weren’t simply controversial. They weren’t simply a religious leader’s effort to speak out against perceived injustice. Instead, they expressed a profoundly distorted view of this country—a view that sees white racism as endemic, and that elevates what is wrong with America above all that we know is right with America; a view that sees the conﬂicts in the Middle East as rooted primarily in the actions of stalwart allies like Israel, instead of emanating from the perverse and hateful ideologies of radical Islam. As such, Reverend Wright’s comments were not only wrong but divisive, divisive at a time when we need unity; racially charged at a time when we need to come together to solve a set of monumental problems—two wars, a terrorist threat, a falling economy, a chronic health care crisis and potentially devastating climate change; problems that are neither black or white or Latino or Asian, but rather problems that confront us all.

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Given my background, my politics, and my professed values and ideals, there will no doubt be those for whom my statements of condemnation are not enough. Why associate myself with Reverend Wright in the ﬁrst place, they may ask? Why not join another church? And I confess that if all that I knew of Reverend Wright were the snippets of those sermons that have run in an endless loop on the television and You Tube, or if Trinity United Church of Christ conformed to the caricatures being peddled by some commentators, there is no doubt that I would react in much the same way. But the truth is, that isn’t all that I know of the man. The man I met more than twenty years ago is a man who helped introduce me to my Christian faith, a man who spoke to me about our obligations to love one another; to care for the sick and lift up the poor. He is a man who served his country as a U.S. Marine; who has studied and lectured at some of the ﬁnest universities and seminaries in the country, and who for over thirty years led a church that serves the community by doing God’s work here on Earth—by housing the homeless, ministering to the needy, providing day care services and scholarships and prison ministries, and reaching out to those suffering from HIV/AIDS. In my ﬁrst book, Dreams From My Father, I described the experience of my ﬁrst service at Trinity: ‘‘People began to shout, to rise from their seats and clap and cry out, a forceful wind carrying the reverend’s voice up into the rafters.… And in that single note— hope!—I heard something else; at the foot of that cross, inside the thousands of churches across the city, I imagined the stories of ordinary black people merging with the stories of David and Goliath, Moses and Pharaoh, the Christians in the lion’s den, Ezekiel’s ﬁeld of dry bones. Those stories—of survival, and freedom, and hope—became our story, my story; the blood that had spilled was our blood, the tears our tears; until this black church, on this bright day, seemed once more a vessel carrying the story of a people into future generations and into a larger world. Our trials and triumphs became at once unique and universal, black and more than black; in chronicling our journey, the stories and songs gave us a means to reclaim memories that we didn’t need to feel shame about … memories that all people might study and cherish—and with which we could start to rebuild.’’ That has been my experience at Trinity. Like other predominantly black churches across the country, Trinity embodies the black community in its entirety—the doctor and the welfare mom, the model student and the former gang-banger. Like other black churches, Trinity’s services are full of raucous laughter and sometimes bawdy humor. They are full of dancing, clapping, screaming and shouting that may seem jarring to the untrained ear. The church contains in full the kindness and cruelty, the ﬁerce intelligence and the shocking ignorance, the struggles and successes, the love and yes, the bitterness and bias that make up the black experience in America. And this helps explain, perhaps, my relationship with Reverend Wright. As imperfect as he may be, he has been like family to me. He strengthened my faith, ofﬁciated my wedding, and baptized my children. Not once in my conversations with him have I heard him talk about any ethnic group in derogatory terms, or treat whites with whom he interacted with anything but courtesy and respect. He contains within him the contradictions—the good and the bad—of the community that he has served diligently for so many years. I can no more disown him than I can disown the black community. I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother—a woman who helped raise

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me, a woman who sacriﬁced again and again for me, a woman who loves me as much as she loves anything in this world, but a woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe. These people are a part of me. And they are a part of America, this country that I love. Some will see this as an attempt to justify or excuse comments that are simply inexcusable. I can assure you it is not. I suppose the politically safe thing would be to move on from this episode and just hope that it fades into the woodwork. We can dismiss Reverend Wright as a crank or a demagogue, just as some have dismissed Geraldine Ferraro, in the aftermath of her recent statements, as harboring some deep-seated racial bias. But race is an issue that I believe this nation cannot afford to ignore right now. We would be making the same mistake that Reverend Wright made in his offending sermons about America—to simplify and stereotype and amplify the negative to the point that it distorts reality. The fact is that the comments that have been made and the issues that have surfaced over the last few weeks reﬂect the complexities of race in this country that we’ve never really worked through—a part of our union that we have yet to perfect. And if we walk away now, if we simply retreat into our respective corners, we will never be able to come together and solve challenges like health care, or education, or the need to ﬁnd good jobs for every American. Understanding this reality requires a reminder of how we arrived at this point. As William Faulkner once wrote, ‘‘The past isn’t dead and buried. In fact, it isn’t even past.’’ We do not need to recite here the history of racial injustice in this country. But we do need to remind ourselves that so many of the disparities that exist in the African-American community today can be directly traced to inequalities passed on from an earlier generation that suffered under the brutal legacy of slavery and Jim Crow. Segregated schools were, and are, inferior schools; we still haven’t ﬁxed them, ﬁfty years after Brown v. Board of Education, and the inferior education they provided, then and now, helps explain the pervasive achievement gap between today’s black and white students. Legalized discrimination—where blacks were prevented, often through violence, from owning property, or loans were not granted to African-American business owners, or black homeowners could not access FHA mortgages, or blacks were excluded from unions, or the police force, or ﬁre departments—meant that black families could not amass any meaningful wealth to bequeath to future generations. That history helps explain the wealth and income gap between black and white, and the concentrated pockets of poverty that persists in so many of today’s urban and rural communities. A lack of economic opportunity among black men, and the shame and frustration that came from not being able to provide for one’s family, contributed to the erosion of black families—a problem that welfare policies for many years may have worsened. And the lack of basic services in so many urban black neighborhoods—parks for kids to play in, police walking the beat, regular garbage pick-up and building code enforcement—all helped create a cycle of violence, blight and neglect that continue to haunt us.

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This is the reality in which Reverend Wright and other African-Americans of his generation grew up. They came of age in the late ﬁfties and early sixties, a time when segregation was still the law of the land and opportunity was systematically constricted. What’s remarkable is not how many failed in the face of discrimination, but rather how many men and women overcame the odds; how many were able to make a way out of no way for those like me who would come after them. But for all those who scratched and clawed their way to get a piece of the American Dream, there were many who didn’t make it—those who were ultimately defeated, in one way or another, by discrimination. That legacy of defeat was passed on to future generations—those young men and increasingly young women who we see standing on street corners or languishing in our prisons, without hope or prospects for the future. Even for those blacks who did make it, questions of race, and racism, continue to deﬁne their worldview in fundamental ways. For the men and women of Reverend Wright’s generation, the memories of humiliation and doubt and fear have not gone away; nor has the anger and the bitterness of those years. That anger may not get expressed in public, in front of white co-workers or white friends. But it does ﬁnd voice in the barbershop or around the kitchen table. At times, that anger is exploited by politicians, to gin up votes along racial lines, or to make up for a politician’s own failings. And occasionally it ﬁnds voice in the church on Sunday morning, in the pulpit and in the pews. The fact that so many people are surprised to hear that anger in some of Reverend Wright’s sermons simply reminds us of the old truism that the most segregated hour in American life occurs on Sunday morning. That anger is not always productive; indeed, all too often it distracts attention from solving real problems; it keeps us from squarely facing our own complicity in our condition, and prevents the African-American community from forging the alliances it needs to bring about real change. But the anger is real; it is powerful; and to simply wish it away, to condemn it without understanding its roots, only serves to widen the chasm of misunderstanding that exists between the races. In fact, a similar anger exists within segments of the white community. Most working- and middle-class white Americans don’t feel that they have been particularly privileged by their race. Their experience is the immigrant experience—as far as they’re concerned, no one’s handed them anything, they’ve built it from scratch. They’ve worked hard all their lives, many times only to see their jobs shipped overseas or their pension dumped after a lifetime of labor. They are anxious about their futures, and feel their dreams slipping away; in an era of stagnant wages and global competition, opportunity comes to be seen as a zero sum game, in which your dreams come at my expense. So when they are told to bus their children to a school across town; when they hear that an African American is getting an advantage in landing a good job or a spot in a good college because of an injustice that they themselves never committed; when they’re told that their fears about crime in urban neighborhoods are somehow prejudiced, resentment builds over time. Like the anger within the black community, these resentments aren’t always expressed in polite company. But they have helped shape the political landscape for at least a generation. Anger over welfare and afﬁrmative action helped forge the Reagan Coalition. Politicians routinely exploited fears of crime for their own electoral ends. Talk show hosts and conservative commentators built entire careers

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unmasking bogus claims of racism while dismissing legitimate discussions of racial injustice and inequality as mere political correctness or reverse racism. Just as black anger often proved counterproductive, so have these white resentments distracted attention from the real culprits of the middle class squeeze—a corporate culture rife with inside dealing, questionable accounting practices, and shortterm greed; a Washington dominated by lobbyists and special interests; economic policies that favor the few over the many. And yet, to wish away the resentments of white Americans, to label them as misguided or even racist, without recognizing they are grounded in legitimate concerns—this too widens the racial divide, and blocks the path to understanding. This is where we are right now. It’s a racial stalemate we’ve been stuck in for years. Contrary to the claims of some of my critics, black and white, I have never been so na€ive as to believe that we can get beyond our racial divisions in a single election cycle, or with a single candidacy—particularly a candidacy as imperfect as my own. But I have asserted a ﬁrm conviction—a conviction rooted in my faith in God and my faith in the American people—that working together we can move beyond some of our old racial wounds, and that in fact we have no choice if we are to continue on the path of a more perfect union. For the African-American community, that path means embracing the burdens of our past without becoming victims of our past. It means continuing to insist on a full measure of justice in every aspect of American life. But it also means binding our particular grievances—for better health care, and better schools, and better jobs—to the larger aspirations of all Americans—the white woman struggling to break the glass ceiling, the white man who’s been laid off, the immigrant trying to feed his family. And it means taking full responsibility for own lives—by demanding more from our fathers, and spending more time with our children, and reading to them, and teaching them that while they may face challenges and discrimination in their own lives, they must never succumb to despair or cynicism; they must always believe that they can write their own destiny. Ironically, this quintessentially American—and yes, conservative—notion of selfhelp found frequent expression in Reverend Wright’s sermons. But what my former pastor too often failed to understand is that embarking on a program of self-help also requires a belief that society can change. The profound mistake of Reverend Wright’s sermons is not that he spoke about racism in our society. It’s that he spoke as if our society was static; as if no progress has been made; as if this country—a country that has made it possible for one of his own members to run for the highest ofﬁce in the land and build a coalition of white and black; Latino and Asian, rich and poor, young and old—is still irrevocably bound to a tragic past. But what we know—what we have seen—is that America can change. That is the true genius of this nation. What we have already achieved gives us hope—the audacity to hope—for what we can and must achieve tomorrow. In the white community, the path to a more perfect union means acknowledging that what ails the African-American community does not just exist in the minds of black people; that the legacy of discrimination—and current incidents of discrimination, while less overt than in the past—are real and must be addressed. Not just with words, but with deeds—by investing in our schools and our communities; by enforcing

144. A More Perfect Union Speech, March 18, 2008

our civil rights laws and ensuring fairness in our criminal justice system; by providing this generation with ladders of opportunity that were unavailable for previous generations. It requires all Americans to realize that your dreams do not have to come at the expense of my dreams; that investing in the health, welfare, and education of black and brown and white children will ultimately help all of America prosper. In the end, then, what is called for is nothing more, and nothing less, than what all the world’s great religions demand—that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Let us be our brother’s keeper, Scripture tells us. Let us be our sister’s keeper. Let us ﬁnd that common stake we all have in one another, and let our politics reﬂect that spirit as well. For we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, and conﬂict, and cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle—as we did in the OJ trial—or in the wake of tragedy, as we did in the aftermath of Katrina—or as fodder for the nightly news. We can play Reverend Wright’s sermons on every channel, every day and talk about them from now until the election, and make the only question in this campaign whether or not the American people think that I somehow believe or sympathize with his most offensive words. We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporter as evidence that she’s playing the race card, or we can speculate on whether white men will all ﬂock to John McCain in the general election regardless of his policies. We can do that. But if we do, I can tell you that in the next election, we’ll be talking about some other distraction. And then another one. And then another one. And nothing will change. That is one option. Or, at this moment, in this election, we can come together and say, ‘‘Not this time.’’ This time we want to talk about the crumbling schools that are stealing the future of black children and white children and Asian children and Hispanic children and Native American children. This time we want to reject the cynicism that tells us that these kids can’t learn; that those kids who don’t look like us are somebody else’s problem. The children of America are not those kids, they are our kids, and we will not let them fall behind in a 21st century economy. Not this time. This time we want to talk about how the lines in the Emergency Room are ﬁlled with whites and blacks and Hispanics who do not have health care; who don’t have the power on their own to overcome the special interests in Washington, but who can take them on if we do it together. This time we want to talk about the shuttered mills that once provided a decent life for men and women of every race, and the homes for sale that once belonged to Americans from every religion, every region, every walk of life. This time we want to talk about the fact that the real problem is not that someone who doesn’t look like you might take your job; it’s that the corporation you work for will ship it overseas for nothing more than a proﬁt. This time we want to talk about the men and women of every color and creed who serve together, and ﬁght together, and bleed together under the same proud ﬂag. We want to talk about how to bring them home from a war that never should’ve been authorized and never should’ve been waged, and we want to talk about how we’ll show our patriotism by caring for them, and their families, and giving them the beneﬁts they have earned.

687

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I would not be running for President if I didn’t believe with all my heart that this is what the vast majority of Americans want for this country. This union may never be perfect, but generation after generation has shown that it can always be perfected. And today, whenever I ﬁnd myself feeling doubtful or cynical about this possibility, what gives me the most hope is the next generation—the young people whose attitudes and beliefs and openness to change have already made history in this election. There is one story in particularly that I’d like to leave you with today—a story I told when I had the great honor of speaking on Dr. King’s birthday at his home church, Ebenezer Baptist, in Atlanta. There is a young, twenty-three year old white woman named Ashley Baia who organized for our campaign in Florence, South Carolina. She had been working to organize a mostly African-American community since the beginning of this campaign, and one day she was at a roundtable discussion where everyone went around telling their story and why they were there. And Ashley said that when she was nine years old, her mother got cancer. And because she had to miss days of work, she was let go and lost her health care. They had to ﬁle for bankruptcy, and that’s when Ashley decided that she had to do something to help her mom. She knew that food was one of their most expensive costs, and so Ashley convinced her mother that what she really liked and really wanted to eat more than anything else was mustard and relish sandwiches. Because that was the cheapest way to eat. She did this for a year until her mom got better, and she told everyone at the roundtable that the reason she joined our campaign was so that she could help the millions of other children in the country who want and need to help their parents too. Now Ashley might have made a different choice. Perhaps somebody told her along the way that the source of her mother’s problems were blacks who were on welfare and too lazy to work, or Hispanics who were coming into the country illegally. But she didn’t. She sought out allies in her ﬁght against injustice. Anyway, Ashley ﬁnishes her story and then goes around the room and asks everyone else why they’re supporting the campaign. They all have different stories and reasons. Many bring up a speciﬁc issue. And ﬁnally they come to this elderly black man who’s been sitting there quietly the entire time. And Ashley asks him why he’s there. And he does not bring up a speciﬁc issue. He does not say health care or the economy. He does not say education or the war. He does not say that he was there because of Barack Obama. He simply says to everyone in the room, ‘‘I am here because of Ashley.’’ ‘‘I’m here because of Ashley.’’ By itself, that single moment of recognition between that young white girl and that old black man is not enough. It is not enough to give health care to the sick, or jobs to the jobless, or education to our children. But it is where we start. It is where our union grows stronger. And as so many generations have come to realize over the course of the two-hundred and twenty one years since a band of patriots signed that document in Philadelphia, that is where the perfection begins. Source: United States Senate, Ofﬁce of Barack Obama, D-Ill., 713 Hart Senate Ofﬁce Building,Washington, D.C. 20510.

145. Barack Obama’s Election Day Speech, November 4, 2008 689

145. Barack Obama’s Election Day Speech, November 4, 2008 On November 5, 2008, Junior Senator Barack Obama, D-Illinois was elected as the 44th president of the United States. In remarks prepared and provided by his campaign, President-Elect Barack Obama called himself the unlikeliest presidential candidate, according to National Public Radio. He thanked his campaign and the many volunteers who joined the campaign but told a crowd in Grant Park in Chicago and the worldwide television audience that an enormous task had just begun for the electorate and the United States. If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer. It’s the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very ﬁrst time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference. It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled—Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of red states and blue states; we are, and always will be, the United States of America. It’s the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day. It’s been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this deﬁning moment, change has come to America. I just received a very gracious call from Sen. McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and he’s fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacriﬁces for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine, and we are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selﬂess leader. I congratulate him and Gov. Palin for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nation’s promise in the months ahead. I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the vice-president-elect of the United States, Joe Biden. I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last 16 years, the rock of our family and the love of my life, our nation’s next ﬁrst lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy that’s coming with us to the White House. And while she’s no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure. To my campaign manager, David Plouffe; my chief strategist, David Axelrod; and the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics—you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you’ve sacriﬁced to get it done.

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But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to—it belongs to you. I was never the likeliest candidate for this ofﬁce. We didn’t start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington—it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston. It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give $5 and $10 and $20 to this cause. It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation’s apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered and organized, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from this earth. This is your victory. I know you didn’t do this just to win an election, and I know you didn’t do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime—two wars, a planet in peril, the worst ﬁnancial crisis in a century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they’ll make the mortgage, or pay their doctor’s bills, or save enough for college. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair. The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year, or even one term, but America—I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you: We as a people will get there. There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won’t agree with every decision or policy I make as president, and we know that government can’t solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And, above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it’s been done in America for 221 years—block by block, brick by brick, callused hand by callused hand. What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter must not end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek—it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you. So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this ﬁnancial crisis taught us anything, it’s that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers. In this country, we rise or fall as one nation—as one people. Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who ﬁrst carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House—a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty and national unity. Those are values we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress.

145. Barack Obama’s Election Day Speech, November 4, 2008 691

As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, ‘‘We are not enemies, but friends … Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.’’ And, to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your president, too. And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world—our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down: We will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security: We support you. And to all those who have wondered if America’s beacon still burns as bright: Tonight, we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope. For that is the true genius of America—that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow. This election had many ﬁrsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that’s on my mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She’s a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election, except for one thing: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old. She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn’t vote for two reasons—because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin. And tonight, I think about all that she’s seen throughout her century in America—the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can’t and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes, we can. At a time when women’s voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes, we can. When there was despair in the Dust Bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes, we can. When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes, we can. She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that ‘‘We Shall Overcome.’’ Yes, we can. A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her ﬁnger to a screen and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes, we can. America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves: If our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

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This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time—to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reafﬁrm that fundamental truth that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can’t, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can. Thank you, God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America. Source: BarackObama campaign Committee, Barackobama.com

Selected Bibliography BIOGRAPHY Astor, Gerald. ‘‘And a Credit to His Race’’; the Hard Life and Times of Joseph Louis Barrow, a.k.a. Joe Louis. New York: Saturday Review Press, 1974. Autobiographies of the Nineteenth Century. Introduction by William L. Andrews. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986. Balagoon, Kuwasi. Look for Me in the Whirlwind: the Collective Autobiography of the New York 21. Introduction by Haywood Burns. New York: Random House, 1971. Baldwin, James. Native Son. Boston: Beacon Press, 1955. ———. Nobody Knows My Name: More Notes of a Native Son. New York: Dial Press, 1963. ———. The Fire Next Time. New York: Dial Press, 1963. Blackett, R. J. M. Beating Against the Barriers: Biographical Essays in Nineteenth-Century AfroAmerican History. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1986. Brown, Claude. Manchild in the Promised Land. 1969. New York: Macmillan, 1965. Browne, H. Rap. Die, Nigger, Die! New York: Dial Press, 1969. Cary, Lorene. Black Ice. New York: Knopf, 1991. Chisholm, Shirley. Unbought and Unbossed. Boston: Houghton Mifﬂin,1970. ———. The Good Fight. New York: Harper & Row, 1973. Clay, Cassius Marcellus. The Life of Cassius Marcellus Clay: Memoirs, Writings, and Speeches; Showing His Conduct in the Overthrow of American Slavery, the Salvation of the Union, and the Restoration of the Autonomy of the States. Cincinnati, OH: J. F. Brennan & Co., 1886. Cleaver, Eldridge. Soul on Ice. New York: McGraw Hill, 1967. Colaiaco, James A. Martin Luther King, Jr.: Apostle of Militant Nonviolence. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1988. Colton, Elizabeth. The Jackson Phenomenon: the Man, the Power, the Message. New York: Doubleday, 1989. Comer, James P. Maggie’s American Dream: the Life and Times of a Black Family. New York: New American Library, 1988. Costanzo, Angelo. Surprizing Narrative: Olaudah Equiano and the Beginnings of Black Autobiography. Contributions in Afro-American and African Studies, vol. 1. New York: Greenwood Press, 1987. Cottrell, John. Muhammad Ali, Who Once Was Cassius Clay. New York Funk & Wagnalls, 1968. Davis, Angela. Angela Davis: an Autobiography. New York: Random House, 1974. Douglass, Frederick. Life and Times of Frederick Douglass: His Early Life as a Slave, His Escape from Bondage, and His Complete History to the Present Time, Including His Connection with the Anti-Slavery Movement. Hartford, CT: Park Publishing Co., 1881. DuBois, W. E .B. The Autobiography of W. E .B. Du Bois; a Soliloquy on Viewing My Life from the Last Decade of Its First Century. New York: International Publishers, 1968. (C, 326.092, D816d8).

694 Selected Bibliography Edwards, Harry. The Struggle That Must Be: An Autobiography. New York: Macmillan, 1980. Evers, Mrs. Medgar. For Us, the Living. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1967. Gibson, Althea. I Always Wanted To Be Somebody. New York: Harper, 1958. Greene, Lorenzo Johnston. Working with Carter G. Woodson, the Father of Black History: a Diary, 1928–1930. Edited with an introduction by Arvarh E. Strickland. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1989. Harlan, Louis R. Booker T. Washington: the Wizard of Tuskegee, 1901–1915. New York: Oxford University Press, 1983. Hodges, Willis Augustus. Free Man of Color: the Autobiography of Willis. Marable, Manning. W. E. B. DuBois: Black Radical Democrat. Boston: Twayne, 1986. McFeely. William S. Frederick Douglass. New York: Norton, 1991. Thornbrough, Emma Lou. T. Thomas Fortune: Militant Journalist. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1971.

GENERAL HISTORY Bennett, Lerone, Jr. Before the Mayﬂower: A History of Black America. Chicago: Johnson, 1982. Carter, Hodding. The Angry Scar: The Story of Reconstruction. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974. Davis, Arthur P., J. Saunders Redding, and Joyce Ann Joyce, eds. The New Cavalcade: African American Writing from 1760 to the Present. Washington, DC: Howard University Press, 1991. DuBois, W. E. B. The Souls of Black Folk. New York: New American Library, 1969. Foner, Eric. Reconstruction: America’s Unﬁnished Revolution, 1863–1877. New York: Harper and Row, 1988. Franklin, John Hope. From Slavery to Freedom: A History of Negro Americans. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1988. ———. Reconstruction: After the Civil War. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961. Frazier, E. Franklin. The Negro in the United States. New York: Macmillian, 1957. ———. Black Bourgeoisie. New York: Collier Books, 1962. Hine, Darlene Clark, ed. The State of Afro-American History: Past, Present, and Future. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1986. ———. Black Women in United States History. Brooklyn, NY: Carlson, 1990. Hughes, Langston and Milton Meltzer. A Pictorial History of the Negro in America. New York: Crown, 1963. Jackson, Blyden. A History of Afro-American Literature. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1989. Lincoln, Eric C., and Lawrence H. Mamiya. The Black Church in the African-American Experience. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1990. Litwack, Leon F. Been in the Storm So Long: The Aftermath of Slavery. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1979. Logan, Rayford. The Negro in American Life and Thought: The Nadir, 1877–1901. New York: Collier Books, 1965. Meier, August. Negro Thought in America, 1880–1915. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1963. Meier, August and Elliot Rudwick. From Plantation to Ghetto. New York: Hill and Wang, 1976. Miller, Kelly. The Education of the Negro. Washington, DC: Government Printing Ofﬁce, 1902. ———. Race Adjustment. The Everlasting Stain. New York: Arno Press and the New York Times, 1968.

Selected Bibliography ———. Out of the House of Bondage. New York: Schocken Books, 1971. Myrdal, Gunnar. An American Dilemma: The Negro Problem and Modern Democracy. New York: Pantheon Books, 1975. Ogden, Robert C., ed. From Servitude to Service: Being the Old South Lectures on the History and Work of Southern Institutions for the Education of the Negro. Boston: American Unitarian Association, 1905. Quarles, Benjamin. Black Mosaic: Essays in Afro-American History and Historiography. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1988. ———. The Negro in the Making of America. New York: Collier Macmillan, 1987. Rabinowitz, Howard N., ed. Southern Black Leaders of the Reconstruction Era. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1982. Sterling, Dorothy, and Benjamin Quarles. Lift Every Voice; The Lives of Booker T. Washington, W. E. B. Du Bois, Mary Church Terrell, and James Weldon Johnson. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1965. Woodson, Carter G. The Mind of the Negro as Reﬂected in Letters Written during the Crisis, 1800–1860. New York: Russell & Russell, 1969. ———. The Education of the Negro Prior to 1861. New York: Arno Press, 1968. ———. The History of the Negro Church. Washington, DC: Associated Publishers, 1921. Woodward, C. Vann. The Strange Career of Jim Crow. New York: Oxford University Press, 1974.

REFERENCE AND BIBLIOGRAPHY Abajian, James, comp. Blacks and Their Contributions to the American West; a Bibliography and Union List of Library Holdings through 1970. Boston: G. K. Hall, 1974. Afro-American Life, History and Culture. Developed for USIS Programs by the Collections Development Branch, Library Programs Division, Ofﬁce of Cultural Centers and Resources, Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs, United States Information Agency. Washington, DC: The Branch, 1985. Amistad Research Center. Author and Added Entry Catalog of the American Missionary Association Archives, with References to Schools and Mission Stations. 3 vols. Introduction by Clifton H. Johnson. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1970. Aptheker, Herbert, ed. A Documentary History of the Negro People in the United States. New York: Citadel Press, 1951. Ball, Wendy and Tony Martin. Rare Afro-Americana: A Reconstruction of the Adger Library. Boston: G.K. Hall, 1981. Bergman, Peter. The Chronological History of the Negro in America. New York: Mentor Books, 1969. Black History. New York: Co-published by the Institute for Research in History and the Haworth Press, 1983. Black Immigration and Ethnicity in the United States: an Annotated Bibliography. Center for AfroAmerican and African Studies, the University of Michigan. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1985. Blockson, Charles L. A Commented Bibliography of One Hundred and One Inﬂuential Books by and about People of African Descent (1556–1982): a Collector’s Choice. Amsterdam: A. Gerits, 1989. Boehm, Randolph ed. A Guide to Papers of the NAACP: Part I, 1909–1950, Meetings of the Board of Directors, Records of Annual Conferences, Major Speeches, and Special Reports. Editorial adviser, August Meier. Frederick, MD: University Publications of America, 1982. Brignano, Russell C. Black Americans in Autobiography: an Annotated Bibliography of Autobiographies and Autobiographical Books Written Since the Civil War. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1984.

695

696 Selected Bibliography Broderick, Francis L. W. E. B. Du Bois: Negro Leader in a Time of Crisis. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1959. Campbell, Georgetta Merritt. Extant Collections of Early Black Newspapers: a Research Guide to the Black Press, 1880–1915, with an Index to the Boston Guardian, 1902–1904. Troy, NY: Whitston Publishing Co., 1981. Chambers, Fredrick, comp. Black Higher Education in the United States: A Selected Bibliography on Negro Higher Education and Historically Black Colleges and Universities. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1978. Davis, Lenwood G., comp. Black-Jewish Relations in the United States, 1752–1984: A Selected Bibliography. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1984. Davis, Lenwood G. and George Hill, comps. Blacks in the American Armed Forces, 1776–1983: a Bibliography. Forewords by Benjamin O. Davis,Jr. and Percy E. Johnston. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1985. Davis, Nathaniel, ed. Afro-American Reference: An Annotated Bibliography of Selected Resources. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1985. Coates, Paul W., Elinor Des Verney Sinnette, and Thomas C. Battle, eds. Black Bibliophiles and Collectors: Preservers of Black History. Washington, DC; Howard University Press, 1990. District of Columbia Historical Records Survey. Calendar of the Writings of Frederick Douglass in the Douglass Memorial Home, Anacostia, D.C. Washington, DC: District of Columbia Records Survey, 1940. Drowne, Lawrence et al., comp. Black Experience; A Bibliography of Books on Black Studies in the Academic Libraries of Brooklyn. Brooklyn: Academic Libraries of Brooklyn, 1971. DuBois, W.E. Burghardt. Select Bibliography of the American Negro for General Readers. Atlanta University Publications. Atlanta: Atlanta University Press, 1901. Fisher, Mary L. Comp. Negro in America; a Bibliography. 2nd rev. and enl. Ed Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1970. Fraser, Lynette. Bibliography of Publications Relative to Afro-American Studies. Museum of Anthropology, Miscellaneous Series, no. 10. Greeley, CO: Colorado State College, 1969. Guide to Scholarly Journals in Black Studies. Introduction by Gerald A. McWorter. Chicago, IL: Chicago Center for Afro-American Studies and Research, 1981. Gubert, Betty Kaplan, comp. Early Black Bibliographies, 1863–1918. New York: Garland Publishing, 1982. Hall, Woodrow Wadworth. Bibliography of the Tuskegee Gerrymander Protest; Pamphlets, Magazine and Newspaper Articles. AL: Department of Records and Research, Tuskeegee Institute, 1960. King, Jr., Martin Luther, comp. A Guide to Research on Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Modern Black Freedom Struggle. Papers Project. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Libraries, 1989. Logan, Rayford W., and Michael R. Winston. Dictionary of American Negro Biography. New York: Norton, 1982. Low, W. Augustus, and Virgil A. Clift, eds. Encyclopedia of Black America. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1981. McPherson, James M., ed. Blacks in America; Bibliographical Essays. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1971. ——— and Richard Newman, comps. Nine Decades of Scholarship: a Bibliography of the Writings (1892–1983) of the Staff of the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture. New York: New York Public Library, 1986. Newman, Richard, comp. Black Access: A Bibliography of Afro-American Bibliographies. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1984. Payne, Wardell J., ed. Directory of African American Religious Bodies: A Compendium by the Howard University School of Divinity. Washington, DC: Howard University Press, 1991.

Selected Bibliography Ploski, Harry A., and William, James, eds. The Negro Almanac: A Reference Work on the Afro American. 4th ed. New York: Bellwether, 1976. Porter, Dorothy B., ed. The Negro in the United States: A Selected Bibliography. Washington, DC: Library of Congress, 1970. Sims, Janet L., comp. The Progress of Afro-American Women: A Selected Bibliography and Resource Guide. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1980. Weinberg, Meyer, comp. Racism in the United States: A Comprehensive Classiﬁed Bibliography. New York: Greenwood Press, 1990. Williams, Ethel L., and Clifton F. Brown, comps. The Howard University Bibliography of African and Afro-American Religious Studies: With Locations in American Libraries. Wilmington, DE: Scholarly Resources, 1977. Work, Monroe Nathan, comp. A Bibliography of the Negro in Africa and America. New York: Octagon Books, 1965.

PRIMARY SOURCES Abajian, James, comp. Blacks in Selected Newspapers, Censuses and other sources: an Index to Names and Subjects. 3 vols. Boston: G.K. Hall, 1977. African Captives: Trial of the Prisoners of the Amistad on the Writ of Habeus Corpus, documents submitted to the Circuit Court of the United States, for the District of Connecticut, at Hartford; Judges Thompson and Judson, September Term, 1839. n.p. 1839. Aptheker, Herbert, ed. A Documentary History of the Negro People in the United States. Preface by W.E.B. DuBois. New York: Citadel Press, 1951. Austin, Allan, ed. African Muslims in Antebellum America: a Sourcebook. New York: Garland Pub., 1984. Barker, Lucius Jefferson. Our Time Has Come: a Delegate’s Diary of Jesse Jackson’s 1984 Presidential Campaign. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1988. Bell, Howard Holman. Minutes of the Proceedings of National Negro Conventions, 1830– 1864. The American Negro: His History and Literature. New York: Arno Press, 1969. Bennett, Lerone, Jr. Wade in the Water: Great Moments in Black History. Chicago: Johnson Pub. Co., 1979. Bergman, Peter M. and Jean McCarroll, comps. Negro in the Congressional Record, 1789–1801. New York: Bergman, 1969. Berlin Ira et al., eds. The Black Military Experience. Freedom, a Documentary History of Emancipation, 1861–1867, vol. 2. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1982. ———. The Destruction of Slavery. Freedom, a Documentary History of Emancipation, 1861– 1867, vol. 1. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1985. Black Culture Collection. Wooster, OH: Bell & Howell, Micro Photo Division, 1971–1973. Microﬁlm collection at the holdings of Atlanta University Library. The Black Panther Leaders Speak: Huey P. Newton, Bobby Seale, Eldridge Cleaver and Company Speak Out through the Black Panther Party’s Ofﬁcial Newspaper. Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1976. Brotz, Howard. Negro Social and Political Thought, 1850–1920: Representative Texts. New York: Basic Books, 1966. Bureau of National Affairs, Washington, DC. Civil Rights Act of 1964: Text, Analysis, Legislative History; What It Means to Employers, Businessmen, Unions, Employees, Minority Groups. Washington, DC, 1964. Carmichael, Stokely. Stokely Speaks: Black Power Back to Pan-Africanism. New York: Random House, 1971. Chester, Thomas Morris. Thomas Morris Chester, Black Civil War Correspondent: His Dispatches from the Virginia Front. Edited by R.J.M. Blackett. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1989.

697

698 Selected Bibliography Clark, Kenneth B. Negro Protest: James Baldwin, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King talk with Kenneth B. Clark. Boston: Beacon Press, 1963. Cleaver, Eldridge. Eldridge Cleaver: Post-Prison Writings and Speeches. New York: Random House, 1969. Commager, Henry Steele. Struggle for Racial Equality: a Documentary Record. New York: Harper & Row, 1967. Davis, Angela. Angela Davis Case Collection. Meiklejohn Civil Liberties Institute, Berkeley, California. Edited by Ann Fagan Ginger. 13 microﬁlm reels. Dobbs Ferry, NY: TransMedia Publishing Company, 1974. ———. If They Come in the Morning; Voices of Resistance. Foreword by Julian Bond. A Joseph Okpaku Book. New York: Third Press, 1971. Douglass, Frederick. The Frederick Douglass Papers. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1979–. DuBois, W.E.B. Writings. Edited by Nathan Huggins. Library of America. New York: Literary Classics of America, 1988. Eaklor, Vicki Lynn. American Antislavery Songs: a Collection and Analysis. New York: Greenwood Press, 1988. Eicholz, Alice and James M. Rose, comps. Free Black Heads of House in the New York State Federal Census, 1790–1830. Gale Genealogy and Local History Series, vol. 14. Detroit, MI: Gale Research Co., 1981. Elliot, Jeffrey M. Black Voices in American Politics. San Diego: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1986. Foner, Philip S. Voice of Black America: the Major Speeches by Negroes in the United States, 1797–1971. New York: Simon and Schuster,1972. ——— and George E. Walker, eds. Proceedings of the Black State Conventions, 1840–1865. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1979–80. ——— and George E. Walker, eds. Proceedings of the Black National and State Conventions, 1865–1900. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1986–. Forman, James. Making of Black Revolutionaries: A Personal Account. New York: Macmillan, 1972. Forten, Charlotte L. The Journals of Charlotte Forten Grimke. Edited by Brenda Stevenson. New York: Oxford University Press, 1988. Franklin, John Hope. Negro in Twentieth Century America: a Reader on the Struggle for Civil Rights. New York: Vintage Books, 1967. Gunther, Lenworth, ed. Black Image: European Eyewitness Accounts of Afro-American Life. Port Washington, NY: Kennikat Press, 1978. Jacques-Garvey, Amy, ed. Philosophy and Opinions of Marcus Garvey. 2 vols. New Preface by Hollis R. Lynch. Studies in American Negro Life, New York: Atheneum, 1969. Katz, William Loren, comp. Eyewitness: the Negro in American History. New York: Pitman Pub. Corp., 1974. Kennebeck, Edwin. Juror Number Four: the Trial of Thirteen Black Panthers As Seen from the Jury Box. New York: Norton, 1973. King, Jr., Martin Luther. Stride Toward Freedom: the Montgomery Story. New York: Harper, 1958. ———. A Testament of Hope: the Essential Writings of Martin Luther King, Jr. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1986. The Liberator. Boston: William Lloyd Garrison and Isaac Knapp. 35 vols. Lincoln, Abraham. Preliminary Emancipation Proclamation. September 22, 1863. First Edition, Stern Collection, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Library of Congress. ———. Speeches and Writings. 2 vols. Selected and annotated by Don E. Fehrenbacher. The Library of America, vols. 45 and 46. New York: Literary Classics of the United States, 1989. The Marcus Garvey and Universal Negro Improvement Association Papers. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983–.

Selected Bibliography McFarlin, Annjenette Sophie, comp. Black Congressional Reconstruction Orators and Their Orations, 1869–1879. Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1976. Mohonk Conference on the Negro Question. Proceedings: The Conference, 1890–91, Microform, Johns Hopkins University, Sheridan Libraries. Moore, Richard B. Richard B. Moore, Caribbean Militant in Harlem: Collected Writings, 1920– 1972. Edited by W. Burghardt Turner and Joyce Moore Turner, with a biography by Joyce Moore Turner. Introduction by Franklin W. Knight. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1988. Motley, Mary Penwick, comp. The Invisible Soldier: the Experience of the Black Soldier, World War II. Foreword by Howard Donovan Queen. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1975. Mullin, Michael, ed. American Negro Slavery: a Documentary History. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1976. National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. Papers of the NAACP. Editorial Advisor, August Meier. Frederick, MD: University Publications of America, 1981–. Opinions of the Early Presidents and of the Fathers of the Republic upon Slavery and upon Negroes as Men and Soldiers. Pamphlets, Loyal Publication Society, vol. 18. New York: C. Bryant & Co., Printers, 1863. Owens, Jesse. Blackthink: My Life as Black Man and White Man. New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc., 1970. ——— and Paul Neimark. I Have Changed. New York: William Morrow & Company, 1972. Paul, Nathaniel. An Address, Delivered on the Celebration of the Abolition of Slavery, in the State of New York, July 5, 1827, by Nathaniel Paul, Pastor of the First African Baptist Society in the City of Albany. Albany, NY: Printed by John B. Van Steenbergh, 1827. Ripley, C. Peter, ed., Jeffrey S. Rossbach, associate ed. et al. The Black Abolitionist Papers. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1985–. Robeson, Paul. Paul Robeson Speaks: Writings, Speeches, Interviews,1918–1974. Edited with an introduction and notes by Philip S.Foner. Larchmont, NY: Brunner-Mazel, 1978. Rosengarten, Theodore. Tombee: Portrait of a Cotton Planter; with the Journal of Thomas B. Chaplin. Edited and annotated with the assistance of Susan W. Walker. New York: Morrow, 1986. Rustin, Bayard. Down the Line: the Collected Writings. Chicago: Quadrangle Books, 1971. Slavery: Source Material Selected from a Bibliography of Anti-Slavery in America. Louisville, KY: Lost Cause Press, 1971. Smith, Billy G. and Richard Wojtowicz, comps. Blacks Who Stole Themselves: Advertisements for Runaways in the Pennsylvania Gazette 1728–1790. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1989. Sterling, Dorothy, ed. Speak Out in Thunder Tones: Letters and Other Writings by Black Northerners, 1787–1865. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1973. ———. The Trouble They Seen: Black People Tell the Story of Reconstruction. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1976. Stewart, Maria W. Maria W. Stewart, America’s First Black Woman Political Writer: Essays and Speeches. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987. Sweet, Leonard I. Black Images of America, 1784–1870. New York: Norton,1976. Taylor, Clara, comp. British and American Abolitionists: an Episode in Translatlantic Understanding. Chicago: Aldine, 1974. Taylor, Clyde, comp. Vietnam and Black America: an Anthology of Protest and Resistance. Garden City, NY: Anchor Press, 1973. Taylor, Susis King. A Black Woman’s Civil War Memoirs: Reminiscences of My Life in Camp with the 33rd U.S. Colored Trops, Late 1st South Carolina Volunteers. Edited by Patricia W. Romero. New York: M. Wiener Pub., 1988. Turner, Henry McNeal. Respect Black: the Writings and Speeches of Henry McNeal Turner. Compiled and edited by Edwin S. Redkey. New York: Arno Press, 1971.

699

700 Selected Bibliography United States. Congress. House. Civil Rights Acts of 1957, 1960, 1964, 1968; Voting Rights Act of 1965; Voting Rights Act Amendments of 1970. Washington, DC: Government Printing Ofﬁce, 1970. U.S. Supreme Court. The Case of Dred Scott in the United States Supreme Court: the Full Opinions of Chief Justice Taney and Justice Curtis, and Abstracts of the Opinions of the Other Judges; with an Analysis of the Points Ruled, and Some Concluding Observations. New York: Horace Greeley and Co., 1857. Vincent, Theodore G., ed. Voices of a Black Nation; Political Journalism in the Harlem Renaissance. Foreword by Robert Chrisman. San Francisco: Ramparts Press, 1973. Washington, Booker T. The Booker T. Washington Papers. 14 vols. Edited by Louis R. Harlan. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1972–1989. Wilkins, Roy. Talking It Over With Roy Wilkins: Selected Speeches and Writings. Compiled by Helen Solomon and Aminda Wilkins. Norwalk, CT: M & B Pub. Co., 1977. Woodson, Carter Godwin, ed. Free Negro Owners of Slaves in the United States in 1830, Together with Absentee Ownership of Slaves in the United States in 1830. Washington, DC: The Association for the Study of Negro Life and History, 1924. ———. Mind of the Negro as Reﬂected in Letters Written during the Crisis. Washington, DC: The Association for the Study of Negro Life and History, 1926. X, Malcolm. Malcolm X Speaks; Selected Speeches and Statements. Edited by George Breitman. New York: Merit Publishers, 1965. ———. The Speeches of Malcolm X at Harvard. Edited with an introductory essay by Archie Epps. New York: W. Morrow, 1968. ———. By Any Means Necessary; Speeches, Interviews, and a Letter. Edited by George Breitman. New York: Pathﬁnder Press, 1970.

STUDIES AND COMMENTARY Alexander, James I. Blue Coats: Black Skin: the Black Experience in the New York City Police Department since 1891. Hicksville, NY: Exposition Press, 1978. Bell, Derek. Race, Racism, and American Law. Boston: Little, Brown, 1973. Law School Casebook Series. Berger, Raoul. The Fourteenth Amendment and the Bill of Rights. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1989. Berry, Mary Frances, and John Blassingame. Long Memory: the Black Experience in America. New York: Oxford University Press, 1982. Bittker, Boris I. The Case for Black Reparations. New York: Random House, 1973. Crouch, Stanley. Notes of a Hanging Judge: Essays and Reviews, 1979–1989. New York: Oxford University Press, 1990. Cunard, Nancy, comp. Negro: An Anthology. Edited and abridged, with an introduction, by Hugh Ford. New York: Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., 1970. Curtis, Michael Kent. No State Shall Abridge: the Fourteenth Amendment and the Bill of Rights. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1986. Davis, Angela. Women, Culture, & Politics. New York: Random House,1988. Drimmer, Melvin. Issues in Black History: Reﬂections and Commentaries on the Black Historical Experience. Foreword by C. Eric Lincoln. Dubuque, IA: Kendall-Hunt Pub. Co., 1987. Edwards, Harry. The Revolt of the Black Athlete. Foreword by Samuel J.Skinner, Jr. New York: The Free Press, 1969. Finch, Minnie. The NAACP: Its Fight for Justice. Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1981. Fleming, John. The Lengthening Shadow of Slavery: a Historical Justiﬁcation for Afﬁrmative Action for Blacks in Higher Education. With the assistance of Julius Hobson, Jr., John McClendon, and Herschelle Reed. Washington: Published for ISEP by Howard University Press, 1976.

Selected Bibliography Foner, Philip S. Organized Labor and the Black Worker, 1619–1973. New York: International Publishers, 1976. Franklin, John Hope. From Slavery to Freedom: a History of Negro Americans. 6th ed. New York: Knopf, 1988. 87–05685). Fredrickson, George M. White Supremacy: a Comparative Study in American and South African History. New York: Oxford University Press, 1981. Freedom’s Journals: A History of the Black Press in New York State: Exhibition at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, January 30–April 30, 1986. Gordon, Vivian Grinell. Lectures; Black Scholars on Black Issues. Washington, DC: University Press of America, 1979. Gross, Samuel R. and Robert Mauro. Death & Discrimination: Racial Disparities in Capital Sentencing. Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1989. Hanigan, James P. Martin Luther Jing, Jr. and the Foundations of Nonviolence. Lanham, MO: University Press of America, 1984. Harris, Fred R. and Roger W. Wilkins. Quiet Riots: Race and Poverty in the United States. New York: Pantheon Books, 1988. Hine, Darlene Clark, ed. The State of Afro-American History: Past, Present, and Future. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1986. Hoemann, George H. What God Hath Wrought: the Embodiment of Freedom in the Thirteenth Amendment. New York: Garland Pub., 1987. Hughes, Langston, Milton Meltzer, and C. Eric Lincoln. A Pictorial History of Black Americans. 5th rev. and enl. ed. New York: Crown Publishers, Inc., 1983. Katz, William Loren. The Black West. Rev. ed. Garden City, NY: Anchor Press, 1973. Konvitz, Milton Ridvas. A Century of Civil Rights. With A Study of State Law Against Discrimination by Theodore Leskes. New York: Columbia University Press, 1961. Mabee, Carleton. Black Education in New York State: From Colonial to Modern Times. Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1979. Maynard, Aubre de L. Surgeons to the Poor: the Harlem Hospital Story. New York: AppletonCentury-Crofts, 1978. McElroy, Guy C. Facing History: the Black Image in American Art, 1710–1940. Essay by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. Contributions by Janet Levine, Francis Martin, Jr., and Claudia Vess. Edited by Christopher C. French. Washington, DC: Corcoran Gallery of Art, 1990. Meier, August and Elliott Rudwick. Black History and the Historical Profession, 1915–80. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1986. Nalty, Bernard C. Strength for the Fight: a History of Black Americans in the Military. New York: Free Press, 1986. Quarles, Benjamin. Black Mosaic: Essays in Afro-American History and Historiography. Introduction by August Meier. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1988. Rose, Peter Isaac and William J. Wilson. Through Different Eyes: Black and White Perspectives on American Race Relationships. New York: Oxford University Press, 1973. Schoener, Allon, comp. Harlem on My Mind: Cultural Capital of Black America, 1900–1968. New York: Random House, 1969. Solomon, Irvin. Feminism and Black Activism in Contemporary America: an Ideological Assessment. New York: Greenwood Press, 1989. Sowell, Thomas. Dissenting from Liberal Orthodoxy: A Black Scholar Speaks for the ‘‘Angry Moderates’’. Washington: American Enterpris Institute, 1976. ———. Ethnic America: A History. New York: Basic Books, 1981. ———. Pink and Brown People, and Other Controversial Essays. Hoover Press Publication, no. 253. Stanford, CA: Hoover Institution Press, 1981. Steele, Shelby. The Content of Our Character: a New Vision of Race in America. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1990.

701

702 Selected Bibliography Swain, Charles B. Blacks’ Roots in Albany, Old as Fort Orange. Athens, N.Y: C.B. Swain, 1983. Walton, Hanes. Black Political Parties: an Historical and Political Analysis. New York: Free Press, 1972. ———. Black Republicans: the Politics of the Black and Tans. Metuchen,NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1975. Wilson, William J. The Declining Signiﬁcance of Race: Blacks and Changing American Institutions. 2nd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980. ———. The Truly Disadvantaged: the Inner City, the Underclass, and Public Policy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987.

Index Abernathy, Ralph, 644 abolition: European, 94, 133–35; European v. American, 99–100; French colonies and, 97–98; in the North, 150; projections concerning, 363–64 abolition journals and literature, 137–39, 141, 142, 146–47; 148; 241 abolitionism, 241; between 1818 and 1835, 121–49; between 1835–1845, 149–70; place of religion, 122–23, 133–34; problems of, 121, 122 abolitionist ideology, 59; 66–71 abolitionist meetings, 142–44, 152–55, 210, 241 abolitionists, 95, 99–100, 121–22, 123, 131, 135, 242; attacks on, 251; British, 133–35; duty of, 210–11, 214–16; on evils of slavery, 110–15; on government and laws, 100–107; indignation against, 147–48; Patriots misrepresented as, 197; political parties of, 152–53; politics of, 152–55, 159–61; runaway slaves and, 157; on slave revolts, 141; social realities of, 150–52. See also speciﬁc abolitionists activism, 317. See also abolitionist Adams, Charles Francis, 154 Adams, John Quincy, 54–58, 150–52, 151 address: on the articles of impeachment, 564–67; to Congress, 528–31; at the Democratic National Convention, 557–70, 574–81, 581–90, 670–73, 666–69; on Election day, 689–92; on July fourth, 66–71; to law graduates, 218–24; on a more perfect union, 280–88; to the Negroes of New York, 31–37; on television, 546–48. See also oratory

Address to the Negroes in the State of New York, An, 30–37 advice, legitimacy of, 31 AFL union, 486 Africa, 394; 418; invasions within, 49–51 African American progress, 297–98, 308–309, 620; practical suggestions for, 347–51; women and, 309–310, 313–19 African American situation, 521–22 African Colonization Society, 241 ‘‘African Fundamentalism,’’ 419–21 African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church, 239, 274, 596, 599, 600, 603 African Methodist Episcopal Society, 240 Afro-American Encyclopedia, 274 afterlife, 35, 36 agricultural education, 342. See also industrial education agriculture, 181–82, 193, 313, 353, 603– 604; and the Depression, 438. See also plantation life Alabama, 162, 163; and the Scottsboro case, 426–29 Albert, James: book dedication of, 6; childhood of: 7–16; hardships of, 17–25; spirituality of, 7–8, 9, 12–13, 14–15, 16 alcohol, 319–20 All People’s Party, 446 Allen University, 218–19 Allen, Richard, 599 Amateur Night, 454–58 America: moral responsibility of, 89–90, 91, 92; territorial acquisition of, 124–25. See also Mexican territory; United States American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Report, The, 56

704

Index American Colonization Society (ACS), 25, 224, 225; ﬁnancing of, 229 American Tracty Society, 138 Americo-Liberian, 284–85 Amistad, 54–55, 144 Amistad trial, 57–58 amnesty, 356 Anchor Line boats, 493–94 ancient civilization, 420 Anderson, Dr. William, 643–44 anger, 685 anti-Semitism, 480 Anti-Slavery Societies of America, 99–100, 133–34, 141–43, 153 Anti-Slavery Societies of Massachusetts, 153, 210 Anti-Slavery Societies of New York, 152, 153 anti-slavery society, 127, 133–34, 136 Apollo Theater, 454–58, 652 armistice, 510 arms race, 581, 587 ‘‘army of emancipation,’’ 100 artists, 455–57 arts, the, 318, 349. See also music; poetry; songs Asia, 394 assimilation, social, 230–31, 367 Atlanta, 582, 583 Atlanta Compromise, The, 281–83 Atlanta Constitution, 337 Atlanta University, 259, 262 Atlantic Monthly, 256 atonement with God, 623–24, 627, 629–30, 639 autobiography: of Frederick Douglass, 61; of Marcus Garvey, 401–409; by Olaudah Equiano, 37–46; of Reverend Thomas James, 239–55 Baines, Edward, 98–99 Baldwin, James, 421, 499–502; interview with Countee Cullen, 502–504 ‘‘Ballet or the Bullet, The,’’ 533–44 Baldwin, Roger Turner, 55, 57 Baptist Church, 225–26 Barbados, 37 Barnitz, William Tell, 196–98 Barrows, Samuel J., 256–66 bass, 612–13, 614–16 bass players, 611–16 Bassett, E. D., 206 Beatles, 613–14

Beaufort, South Carolina, 174, 191 Belgium, 289 Benin, 37 Berman, Edward, 430–33 Bibb, Henry, 62–65 Bible, the, 16; 34–35; introduction to, 11 Billboard Magazine, 644 biography: of A. Philip Randolph, 507–508; of Countee Cullen, 503–504; by James Albert, 6–25; of a porter, 433–35; of Ralph Johnson Bunche, 508–510 Birdsong, Cindy, 673 Birney, James J., 153 Bishop, Lyman, 149 Black Belt, 257; migration and, 384–85 black codes, 290 Black Issues in Higher Education, 506 black soldiers: acknowledgment of, 539; in the Confederate army, 204; rejection of, 171–72; in the Revolutionary War, 208; in the Union army, 195, 203, 204–205, 352, 173, 184; valor of, 203–205 Black Star Line, 406–407 12,000,000 Black Voices, 499 blacksmithing, 39 Blackstone, William, 223–24 Blandenburg, 208 Blind Poet, The, 327–29 Bluebells, The, 673–75 Boston, 100; 244 Boyd, Ruth Spaulding, 639–40 brain drain, 383–84 Brawley, Benjamin, 336–37, 375–77 Britain: army of, 404; attack on Washington D.C., 208; role in American abolition, 133–35; role in U. S. slavery, 133; and the Texas question, 152 Bronx, 421–22 Brooks, Lottie C., 327–29 Brown v. Board of Education, 517–20 Brown, John, 88–89, 100–102, 103–104, 110; letter to/from, 107–108 Brown, Justice Billings, 290–91 Browne, Hugh M., 283–89 Browne, Theodore Ledyard, 421–26 Buke, Betty, 486–87 Bumby, Silent, 433–35 Bunche, Ralph Johnson, 508; Nobel Prize acceptance speech, 510–11 Burbage, General William, 248, 249

Index 705 Bureau for Freedmen, 354. See also Freedman’s Bureau Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands, 355–57 Burns, Anthony, 244 Burnson, Mervin, 614 businesses, female owned, 317–18 Byrd, Frank, 496–72, 496–99 Calloway, Thomas J., 293–94 Canada, 240 Canadian situation, 159 captivity: among Florida natives, 3; freedom from, 4 car, 597; 610 Carnot, M., 93 Carrington, O’Neil, 502 Carter, Jessie, 433 Carter, Jimmy, 582 Carter, Ruth I., 322–23 castaway crew, 2 cattle, 194 Catto, Octavius V., 205, 206–207 Cavett, Dick, 570–74 celebrities, 632 census, 126–27; 157 Central High School, 609 Century Magazine, 346 Chapman, Maria Weston, 90 character, 220–22, 238, 265 charity, 275 Charleston, S.C., 127–28, 131–32 Charleston, S.C., 127–28 Chenoweth, Karin, 505–508 Cherokee, 364–65 Chestnut, Charles Waddell, 363–67 Chicago: suburbs of, 475–76 child mortality, 591, 592 children, 234–39, 318–19; games of, 467– 69; hope for, 581, 588–89, 650–51, 666; imitation of parents, 29; riddles of, 469; under slavery, 63 Childs, L. Maria, 100–116 China, 394 Christian community: search for, 16, 18–21 Christian funeral, 267–69 Christian missionaries, 228, 251–52 Christianity, 72, 73, 125, 202; conversion to, 7, 12–13, 14; morality of, 92, 99; philosophy of, 35–36; prejudice and, 59–61; salvation and, 6. See also Puritans; Quakers

Church and Prejudice, The, 59–61 church, 376; collection in, 460–61; culture, 596, 599; money of Daddy Grace, 458–61. See also African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church churches, 264–65; attacks on, 145 CIO, 486–87 citizenship, 215, 216–17, 290, 297; court ruling against, 75–76; education and, 303 civil rights, 292–93; address concerning, 528–31; history of struggle, 576; laws, 528–48, 548–57, 557–64; new paradigm of, 537–44 Civil Rights Act of 1964, 528, 531–33, 546–48 civil rights leaders, 531, 643–44, 648, 670; surveillance of, 511–12. See also speciﬁc leaders civil rights museum, 509 Civil War: naval attacks during, 174; rejection of black soldiers and, 171–73; runaway slaves during, 175–76, 248–51; union attacks during, 174, 203, 204–205 Clark, Reverend G. V., 275–80 Clarke, Louise T., 436–38 Clarkson, Thomas, 120, 134 Clay, Cassius M., 155 Clay, Henry, 130, 143 Clemons, Father, 635–36 clergy, 192–93, 307; slaveholding, 253–54. See also speciﬁc members of the clergy Clinton, George C. Rowe, 270–72 clothing, 75 Cole, Jim, 486–87 colonies, 392 colonization, 84, 389, 392–95 Colored American, The, 293–94, 309 Colored Man’s Reminiscences of James Madison, A, 207–210 colored regiments: See black soldiers Commission of Investigation (Harlem), 439–46 Committee on Teachers and on Finance, 194–95 common cause, 94, 95 community, 265, 280, 304, 307; national, 569–70 community development, 542; in Harlem, 439–47 Community Welfare Club, 475 Comstock, Elizabeth L., 252

706

Index Confederacy, 165–70 Confederate convention, 162, 164–67 Confederate propaganda, 184–85, 197 Confederates, 163–64 confession, 623–24 Congo, 389 Congress: Civil Rights Act of 1964 and, 530–31, 531; of the Confederacy, 167– 68; on the Freedmen’s Bureau, 356–57; on the Negro Development and Exposition Company and, 370–71; the question of freed men/women, 354–55; on the question of slavery, 129–30; 150–53; politics of, 535; on race and the military, 506; recognition of black soldiers, 204–205; regulations on slavery, 125; during the Revolutionary War, 209; on the Texas question, 156; Connecticut, 156 Constitution, Confederate, 165–66 Constitution, U. S., 117–20, 125, 129–30; 565, 681; amendments to, 216–17, 290–91 Constitutional Convention, 126 constitutional rights, 79–80, 102, 103 contraband, 198, 352 Convict Lease System, 317 Coonjine, 491–95 ‘‘Coonjine in Manhattan,’’ 489–95 cooperative spirit, 266 corn, 181 corporal punishment, 178 cotton, 177, 181, 186, 187 Counterintelligence Program, 511 courts: race problems and, 360 Craft, Ellen, 245–46 Craft, William, 245–46 Crandall, Prudence, 248 ‘‘creative nonﬁction,’’ 6 creditor nation, 586 creole, 173 crime, 347; 523 Crisis Magazine, 400; 436 critiques: of abolitionism, 121, 122–23, 125–26; of abolition journals, 137–39, 141; of Puritans, 122–23 Croft, Ruth A., 324–25 cruelty: and discrimination, 387, 501–502; toward freed blacks, 17, 18, 358; during the Middle Passage, 43–46; prisoners and, 88. See also lynching; master/ mistress; Turner’s Rebellion Crummell, Alex, 233–39

Cullen, Countee, 502–504 culture, 73, 326–27; American, 415–17; black, 376–77; church, 596, 599; Egyptian, 629; European, 389–92; family, 525; plantation, 176–79, 181–84; rebuke of American, 66–69; river, 490; Southern, 376–77 customs, 29; African, 42 Daddy Grace, 457–61 Dafuski Island, 192 dance: See Coonjine Darwinism, 419 Davis, Jefferson, 166, 167–68 Davis, Miles, 655 de Fontaine, F. G., 120 de Girardin, Emile, 91 de Tocqueville, Alexis, 91 de Wolfe, James, 128 death, 268, 269, 426, 498–99; child, 591, 592. See also murder death sentence, 88–89 debt, 16, 17 debtor nation, 586 Decatur, Alabama, 426, 428–29 Declaration of Independence, 81–82 Declaration of Rights of the Negro Peoples of the World, 395–99 Democratic National Convention speeches, 666–69; by Barack Obama, 666–69; by Barbara Charline Jordan, 567–70; by Congressman Harold Ford Jr., 648–51; by Jesse Jackson, 574–81, 581–90; by Reverend Al Sharpton, 670–73 Democratic Party, 583, 584. See also Democratic National Convention speeches demography, 363–64; slave, 126–27, 175–58, 176, 363–64 Depression, The, 484; in a Negro town, 436–38 DeWitt Clinton High School, 421–22, 499, 502 diary entry: by Frederick Douglass, 61; by John Quincy Adams, 54–58 Dickson, Harris, 491 diplomats, 508 discrimination, 211, 222–23, 336–37; in the colonial government, 404–405; employment and, 441, 442–43; laws against, 557–64; reaction to, 521; results of, 42. See also Civil Rights Act of 1964; Voting Rights Act of 1965; race relations; segregation

Index 707 disenfranchisement, 337 divide and rule, 621 divine guidance, 201, 275–80 divine providence, 296 Dixiecrat, 536, 537 dock workers, 489–95 domestic workers, 482–84; 597, 606–607 Douglass, Frederick, 242; on abolitionist duties, 210–11; autobiography of, 61; on black soldiers, 171–73; on the Constitution, 117–20; on the future of the black race, 229–31; on inferiority, 213– 14; on July fourth, 66–71; on prejudice in the church, 59–61; on Southerners’ views of the government, 212–13; on suffrage, 211–12; on the realities of the West, 62 Douglass, Judge, 82–83 Dowd, Jerome, 346–51 Dread Scott Decision, 76, 77–80, 81–84 drugs, 587 drummers, 615–16, 652, 653–54, 656–57, 658–66, 658–66 Du Bois, W. E. B.: on being a schoolmaster, 330–36; on the Freedmen’s Bureau, 352–62; on the training of black men, 367–68; on white folks, 385 Dukakis, Michael, 584 Duke University oral history project, 640 ‘‘Early in the Morning,’’ 48 economic competition, 152 economic development, 636–37 economic distress, 285, 584–85. See also Depression, the; poverty economic opportunity, 281–83 economic philosophy, 542 economy, 586 edit, unauthorized, 96 editorials, 137–38 education, 72, 217–18, 233, 234, 236–37, 240, 262–64, 283; application of, 341– 42, 519; in church, 307; of freed slaves, 356, 359, 362; funding, 298, 300–301, 595; improvement of, 301, 302, 304– 308; institutes for, 205, 233; migration and, 383–84; race pride and, 73; reform, 348; requirements, 285, 286, 299–300; in rural areas, 331–36, 342; scientiﬁc, 421; in the South, 286–87, 298, 299; of teachers, 307; twentieth century, 367–68; 381; under the

Freedmen’s Bureau, 356, 359, 361, 362; women and, 314–15. See also higher learning; industrial education; school Efﬁngton, South Carolina, 447 Egerton, John, 506 Elder, Joe, 470, 471 electricity, 470 elitism, 170 Ellington, Frankie L., 321–22 emancipation, 15, 29, 30, 93–94; compensation for, 137, 144; conditions post-, 93; and French colonies, 97–98; gradual, 135–38, 204; laws for, 125–26, 156–57; in the North, 126–27, 129; restraints on, 80; secession and, 195–96; self-, 57 Emancipation Proclamation, the, 195–96 emancipation society. See anti-slavery society emigration, 379–80 empire, 390–91 employment, 282, 324–25, 367–68; laws, 557–64; uncertainty of, 22–24 enlistment, 18 enslavement, 37 entertainment, 454–58; 632 Equal Employment Opportunity Act (1965), 557–64 equality, 81–82, 531–33; in court, 429. See also civil rights; social progress ‘‘era of gags,’’ 150 Essai Politique sur l’ Isle de Cuba, 95–97 essays: on diligence, 321–22, 324–25; on the availability of education, 322–23; on fame, 324; on industry, 363–67; on John Milton, 327–29; on morality and progress, 319–21, 325–27; on white attitudes and culture, 385–95 eulogy, 267–69 Europe, 296–97, 390–91, plan of, 391–92; territorial ambitions of, 393. See also colonization European rivalries, 392–93, 394–95 Eustis, Frederick A., 190–91 Executive Order 9981, 504–505, 506–507 exploitation, 385–95; commodities of, 392 explorer, 472–73 Exter Hall, 134 faith, 420 fame, 324 family ties, 252–53; in Africa, 8–9, 38, 40–41; in America, 21–25, 63, 192, 200, 239– 40, 681–82; during the Civil War, 251

708

Index Farrakhan, Louis, 617–39 Father Divine, 457, 458 Federal Bureau of Investigation, 511–16 Federal Theater Project, 421 fellowship, 280 ﬁction, 421–22, 499–500 Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment, 203, 204–205 ﬁnished goods, 285 First Louisiana National Guards, 204 First South Carolina Volunteers, 173 Fisk University, 334 ‘‘Flat Hunters, The,’’ 374–75 ﬂogging, 64 Florida, 124; 162, 163–64 football, 595 Ford, Harold, Jr., 648 foreign policy, 580 forgiveness by God, 624 Fort Beauregard, 174 Fort Wagner, 203, 204–205 Fort Walker, 174 foster parents, 265 Foster, Al, 651–57 founding fathers, contradictions of, 25 Fourteenth Amendment, 216–17, 290–91, 517, 518–19 Four Tops, 677 frame-up, 425, 427–29 Franklin, Aretha, 615 free black narratives, 1–5, 84–87 Free Press, 138 free state Democrats, Kansas, 77 free states, 106. See speciﬁc states freed blacks, Southern: experiments and, 353–54; government failure and, 354; pre-1865, 364–65; responsibilities to, 214–16; situation of, 357–58, 362; and skilled labor, 366; wages of, 189. See also Freedman’s Bureau; freed slaves freed slaves, 36–37, 93; land and, 353; schools for, 173, 359, 362; settling of, 130. See also African American progress; free blacks Freedman’s Aid Societies, 353 Freedman’s Bureau, 352–62; ﬁnances of, 358, 360–61; government policy regarding, 354–55; initial stages of, 355–57; judicial function of: 360;

predecessors to, 353; under the bill of 1866, 357, 358–62 freedom, 36–37, 211, 243–44, 257, 625; declaration of, 352; desire for, 183–84. See also liberty freedom, physical, 34 Freehouse, Mr., 12–13, 15 French authors, 89–92 French, Reverend Mansﬁeld, 193 ‘‘Friends.’’ See Quakers Fugitive Slave Act (1793), 47, 96–97, 244– 45; challenging of, 243–46 fundraising: for trial defenses, 429 Future of the Colored Race, The, 229–31 Gadd, Steve, 663 games, 467–69 Garrison, William Lloyd, 70–71, 105, 137, 138–39, 147–48 Garvey, Marcus, 377–79; on African fundamentalism, 419–21; childhood, 402– 403; on the future, 408–409; and jail, 401–402, 406–407; political consciousness of, 403–404, 408; political difﬁculties of, 405; on repatriation, 406–407; generational gap, 236 genius, 375–77 Genius of Universal Emancipation, 131 ‘‘George,’’ 433 Georgia, 162, 164, 258, 317 Germany, 392 ghetto, 410 ghost writer, 6 Giddings, Joshua, 161 Gilliam, Dorothy: and the African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church, 599–600, 601–602; childhood and education of, 601–602, 608–610; family of, 591–94, 597–98, 602–605; parent’s education and occupation, 594–97; on reading, 607–608; on segregated Kentucky, 600, 602, 606, 608–609, 610–11; Glasgow Speech, the, 117–20 God, 35; anger of, 626; judgment of, 32–33, 35–36; justice and, 30; messenger of, 255–56; name taken in vain, 33–34; ‘‘perfect union’’ with, 620–26; plan of, 275–80, 296–97, 330, 421, 619, 627– 29; praise of, 638–39 Gold Coast: overland journey to, 9–10; royalty of, 10–11 Gore, Al, 649

Index 709 government programs: during the Depression, 463; elimination of, 578–79. See also Freedman’s Bureau gradual emancipation, 135–38, 204 Graham, Billy, 543 Greeks, 277 Greenwich Hospital, 5 grievance, 395–96 Grifﬁth, Mattie, 114 Grimke, Sarah M., 113 Griswold, Reverend Samuel, 142 grocers, 259 Gronniosaw, Ukawsaw. See Albert, James Gu Amk, William All I., 116–17 Guinea, 48 Gullah proverbs, 174 guns, 545 Hale, John P., 154 Haley, James T., 274 Hamilton, Jill, 641 Hamlin, Hannibal, 155 Hammon, Briton, 1–5 Hammond, John Henry Jr., 426–29 Hammond, Jupiter, 30–37 Hampton Institute, 594 Harding, William, 192 hardships: of an enslaved prince, 6–25 Hardwick Bill, 337 Harlan, Justice John Marshall, 291–93 Harlem, 405, 409–12; and the Depression, 438–47; legends of, 496 Harlem Hospital, 444–45 Harlem riots, 438–39, 441–42 Harper, Frances E. W., 272–74 Harvard University, 293–94 hatred, 387 Havana, 3 Hawkes, Ina B., 487–89 health, 444 Henderson, Francis, 74–75 Henson, Josiah, 65–66 heroes, 419 Herrick, Elizabeth, 133 heterogeneous nation, 631; 667 higher learning, 234, 235–36, 259, 262–64, 284–89, 317, 322–23, 594. See also speciﬁc institutions higher vs. technical education, 286–89 Hill, W. R., 437 Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, 174– 75, 176, 180, 182, 191–92

history: race and, 386 Holly, Myron, 153 ‘‘Holy Ghost, catching the,’’ 459 home-building, 348 home-buying, 258–29 homes, 260–61 honesty, 32 Horton, Judge James E., 426 hospital, 5, 440, 444–45 House of Representatives, 129; slavery debate in, 151 housing, 66; 440, 443–44, 524 housing projects, 605 Howard, Major General Oliver O., 355 Hugo, Victor, 89–90 Humphrey, Hubert, 575 Hunter, Alberta, 570–74 Hurd, Bill, 249–50 hypocrisy, 109 Illinois legislature, 58–59 immigration: from Europe, 523; from the West Indies, 480–82 impeachment, 564–67 Independence Day, 66–71 industrial education, 285, 286–87, 296, 299, 305–306, 307, 312, 313, 348–49, 366– 67; argument against, 367–68; in rural areas, 342–43; value of, 341–42 industry, 367; lack of, 285 inferiority: myth, 29, 213–14; teaching of, 386 Institute of Philadelphia, 205 insurrection: See slave revolt inter-racial councils, 414 Interesting Life of Olaudah Equiano, The, 37– 46 ‘‘internal slave trade,’’ 150 International Labor Defense, 426, 427 interracial relationships, 86–87 interview: on the bass and music, 611–16; on the civil rights movement, 643–44; with Countee Cullen, 502–504; of Diana Ross, 641–43; on the Hardwick Bill, 337–40; on life in a segregated town, 590–11; with musicians, 611–16, 641–43, 644–48, 651–57, 173–80; of Nathaniel B. White, 640; on songs and games, 463–69; on teaching, 439–40; with the Temptations, 644–48 invasion, 49–51 invention, 259

710

Index involuntary servitude laws, 380–81 Israel, 510 Jackson, Andrew, 78–79 Jackson, General Stonewall, 209–210 Jackson, Giles B., 372 Jackson, Jesse: at the Democratic National Convention, 574–81, 581–90 Jackson, Milldred, 63 Jackson, Paul, 616 Jackson, Reverend, 242 jail, 422; 636; attempted escapes from, 425 Jamaica, 402; trade from, 2 Jamerson, James, 613; 616 James, Reverend Thomas: as an abolitionist, 241–46; childhood of, 239–40; education of, 240–41; escape from slavery, 240; family and, 252; as a missionary, 251–52; refugee camps and, 249–51, 254–55; segregation and, 246–47 Jamestown Exposition, 371 Jamestown Exposition Company, 369; 373 jazz, 470, 570–74, 593, 611–16, 651–57, 659–66 Jefferson, Thomas, 210; 303; role in slavery, 25 Jennings, Paul, 207 Jesus, 200, 202, 276, 278, 501 Jews, 278 Jim Crow, 246–47; opposition to, 371–72 ‘‘Jim Crow car’’ laws, 317. See also laws, on segregation Jocelyn, Reverend S. S., 139 Johnson, James Weldon, 308–309, 417 Johnson, John R., 308–309 Johnson, Mary, 487–89 Johnson, President Andrew, 357 Johnson, President Lyndon B., 520, 535; Civil Rights Act remarks, 546–48; on John F. Kennedy and civil rights, 528–31 Johnson, Richard, 244 Jordan, Barbara Charline, 564–67, 567–70 Journal of Commerce, 137–38 Journal of the Times, 138 journalism, 264. See also newspaper; speciﬁc journalists journalists, 590–91, 594 Joyner, Charles, 173–74 judgment, 32–33, 35–36 Julian, George W., 154 juries: race and, 427 justice, 30; 101

Kansas, 77, 106, 252, 310, 437; courts, 517–20 Kennedy, John F., 528–29, 531 Kentucky, 248–51, 600–611 Kerner Commission, 617 Kerry, John, 667–68, 670 kidnapping, 38–39, 50 Kilroe, Edwin P., 406 kind acts, 22–23, 23–24 King, Martin Luther, Jr., 643–44, 688 King, Rufus, 132 Knight, Attorney-General Tom, 427, 428 Knights, Ellen L., 329 knowledge, craving for, 233–34, 235, 262 Kresge department store, 441 labor, 119, 182–83, 237–38, 281–86, 287, 329–30; free, 127, 358–59; skilled, 17, 341–42, 366–67 Ladies Island, 176, 184 Lafayette, O., 97–98 land tenure, 355, 356, 359 landowner, 597 language, 40 law graduates, 218 law profession, 219–20 laws: concerning abolitionist literature, 146–47, 148; on civil rights, 528–33, 533–46, 546–4; concerning slavery, 151; election, 337–40; for emancipation, 125–26, 156–57; for fugitive slaves, 96–97, 243–46; international, 221; on employment, 557–64; on involuntary servitude, 380–81; proposed in 1963, 530; and railroads, 430–31; on segregation, 216–17, 317; on voting, 548–57. See also Brown v. Board of Education; Plessy v. Ferguson laziness, 237–38 leadership, 413–14, 527–28; expectations of, 574–75; United States, 587–88, 691 Lee, Dixie, 496 Lee, Will, 611–16 Leibowitz, Samuel, 426, 427–28 letter: from/to an abolitionist, 100–116; from Alexander von Humboldt, 96–97; from Alxis de Tocqueville, 91; from Baron von Humboldt, 95–96; from Daniel O’Connell, 99–100; from Edward Baines, 98–99; from Emile de Girardin, 91; from George Wils, 170– 71; from to James Madison, 47–48;

Index 711 Joseph Mazzini, 93–94; from M. Passy, 92–93; from N. Tourgueneff, 94–95; from O. Lafayette, 97–98; during Reconstruction, 217–18; from Victor Hugo, 88–90; from William Tell Barnitz, 197–98 Letters on American Slavery, 87–100 liberation movement, 412 Liberator, 139 Liberia, 224–29; 283–84 liberty: 395–99; notions of, 91, 92, 93–94, 98. See also freedom Liberty Party, 152–53 librarian, 609 library, 608 ‘‘Lift Every Voice and Sing,’’ 308–309 Lincoln Institute, 608–609 Lincoln, Abraham, 155, 161, 180, 617; on the Dread Scott Decision, 76–84; and the Emancipation Proclamation, 195–96; slavery opposition in the legislature, 58–59 literacy, 73; 299; tests outlawed, 548; usefulness of, 32 literary benchmarks, 84 Literary Souvenir, The, 319–30 Livingston Institute, 263 Livingston, Mississippi, 145–46 loan associations, 266 local government, 304 local history, 484–85 Locke, Alain: on Harlem, 409–12, 438–47; on the New Negro, 412–19 lodge activity, 474 Louisville, Kentucky, 600–603, 605–11 Louisiana, 162, 164; 291 Lovejoy, Reverend E. P., 148, 149 Lundy, Benjamin, 131 Lynch Law, 102–103, 104 lynching, 381 Lynn, Winfrid, 507–508 Macaulay, Zachary, 133 Madison, James, 207–210 magazine. See speciﬁc magazines Magpie, The, 421–22 Malagasco, 50–51 Malcolm X: FBI investigation of, 511–16; on race relations, 533–44 manumission, 364 marriage, 20–21, 86–87, 181, 252

Marshall, Thurgood, 517 Mason, M. J. C.: 100–117 Masonic order, 618 Massachusetts, 306 master/mistress: accounts of slavery by, 113– 14; angering of, 39; cruelty and immunity of, 63–64, 111–12, 201; death of, 15, 16; in the Low Country, 177; obedience to, 31–32; reuniﬁcation with, 5 Mayo, A. D., 296–308 Mazzini, Joseph, 93–94 McKay, Claude, 416–17 McLaurin v. Oklahoma State Regents, 519–20 McLeod, Alice B., 325–27 meals, 75; 177 meat packing, 486 medical ﬁeld, 316–17 melting pot, 630–31, 667, 668 memoir: See narrative Memphis, Tennessee, 592–94 Methodist church, 132–33 Mexican territory, 103, 105, 124 Mexican-American War, 156 Middle Passage, 37, 43–46 middle-class, 525, 526 Midlothian, Illinois, 474–76 migration, 119; northern, 410, 436, 437, 523; problems of, 384–85; from the South, 380, 382–85, 414; military budget, 578–79 military reports, 175–95 military segregation, 504–505, 505–508. See also black soldiers Milkowski, Bill, 658 Million Man March, 617 Milton, John, 192, 327–29 minister’s wife, 596–97 Mississippi, 162, 164; violence in, 582 Missouri, 129–31 Missouri Compromise, 124, 130 Modern Drummer Magazine, 651, 658 Montgomery, Alabama, 258–59, 260–61 Moorhus, Donita, 590 morality, 74, 89–90, 91, 92, 96–97, 316, 326–27. See also Christianity, morality of More Perfect Union, A, 680–92 Morgan County, 427–29 Morris, Thomas, 153 Morris, Vivian: on laundry workers, 482–84; on the Workers Alliance, 484–85 mortgage system, 258

712

Index Mother’s Congress, 315 mother’s meetings, 315 Mt. Meigs Institute, 317 mulattoes, 83, 365–66 murder, 498–99, 501–502 music, 261, 642–43, 644–48, 659–66. See also songs musicians, 611–16; 641–43; 644–48, 651–57 Muslim Mosque, Incorporated (MMI), 515– 16, 542 mutual beneﬁt organizations, 265 narrative, 1; by Briton Hammon, 1–5; eighteenth century, 1–5; by Francis Henderson, 74–75; by Harriet E. Wilson, 84– 87; by Henry Bibb, 62–65; and the Revolutionary War, 207–10; by Venture Smith, 48–51. See also autobiography; biography Narrative of the Life and Adventures of Henry Bibb, 62–65 Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, 61 Nation of Islam (NOI), 512–13, 515 ‘‘nation within a nation,’’ 298 Nation, The, 430 National American Women’s Suffrage Association, 313 National Anti-Slavery Convention, 143–44, 152 National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), 636 National Association of Colored Women, 313, 315, 318 ‘‘natural cowardice,’’ 204 National Mediation Board, 431, 431 National Negro Civil Association (NNCA), 470, 471 National Urban League, 436 nationalism, 530–44 nationalist leaders, 533. See also Garvey, Marcus; Malcolm X Native Americans, 2–3, 217, 364–65 Negro Business Leagues, 369 Negro Development and Exposition Company of the U. S. A., 368–73 Negro Genius, The, 376–77 ‘‘Negro in the Regular Army, The,’’ 204– 205 ‘‘Negro National Anthem,’’ 308–309 ‘‘Negro Renaissance,’’ 438 Negro World, 405–406 New England Convention, 157

‘‘New Negro, the,’’ 414–19; 438 New Orleans, 261 New York, 127; 611; music of, 614, 651, 653; shanty town in, 469–72 New York Evangelist, 142 New York Negro Society, 476, 496–99 New York Sacred Music Society, 144 New York Tribune, 107 New, Anthony, 47–48 newspaper, 137–39, 141, 142, 148, 196–98, 379, 607, 405–406; Boston, 4–5; Confederate, 164–65 Nicodermus, 436–38 Ninth Crusade, 356 Nixon, Richard, 564, 566–67 Nobel Peace Prize, 508, 510–11 nonﬁction, 199–203. See also address; autobiography; biography narratives;oratory North Carolina, 169, 261, 262; demography of, 364 North Edisto, South Carolina, 175, 176, 184, 194 North Pole exploration, 472–73 North Star, The, 171 North-South divide, 89; 126–27, 129, 159, 161–62, 213 novel, 84–87 O’Connell, Daniel, 99–100 Obama, Barack, 666–69; on election day, 698–92; on a more perfect union, 680– 88 Oberlin, 314–15 Oklahoma, 310 ‘‘one-mule farm,’’ 257 Opportunity Magazine, 433, 436 oppression, 94, 95; commercial, 257–58 oppression: See also slavery oral history: of integration, 640; music and, 570–74, 673–80; of a musician, 611– 16; of a segregated community, 591– 611; from a teacher, 639–40. See also interview oral tradition, 489–95 oratory: on abolition, 159–61; by Abraham Lincoln, 59; on the black economy, 368–73; by Booker T. Washington, 281–83, 295–96, 311–13; on the Civil Rights Act, 528–31, 546–48; by Daniel O’Connell, 99–100; on education, 281–89, 311–13; by Frederick Douglass, 59–61, 62, 117–20; 210–16; by Louis

Index 713 Farrakhan, 617–39; by Malcolm X, 533–44; by Octavius V. Catto, 206– 207; on progress, 281–83; on race relations, 295–96, 520–28 organizations, black, 634, 636–37. See also speciﬁc organizations overseer, 178 Palestine, 510 Palmer, John M., 249–50, 251, 254–55 Parchman Farm work camp, 485 parents: child education and, 264; education and, 236–37 parties, 476–80; in Harlem, 476–80, 496–99 Partridge, Sarah, 267–69 Pascal, Michael Henry, 37 Passy, M., 92–93 Patent Ofﬁce, United States, 259 patrols, 75 ‘‘patting juba,’’ 664 Peabody, George, 298 Peary, Admiral Robert E., 472 Peck, Solomon, 192–93 Pennsylvania Daily Telegraph, 196–98 ‘‘perfect union’’ with God, 620–21, 634; steps toward, 622–26 personal history, 487–89 personality cult: See Daddy Grace Phillips, Wendell, 211, 212, 215, 222 Phyllis Wheatley Elementary, 602 Pierce, E. L., 175–94, 353 plantation life, 65–66, 176–79, 181–84 plantations: Freedman’s Bureau and, 353; leased for freed slaves, 353; post-emancipation, 257 plantations: during Northern occupation, 185–92, 193 Plessy v. Ferguson, 290–93, 518 poetry, 116–17, 268, 269, 270–72, 276, 322, 329, 385, by Countee Cullen, 502–503; on Heaven, 30 police department, 445 police shootings, 445–46 political participation, 152–55, 159–61, 349–50; forced lack of, 380–81. See also Democratic National Convention speeches political prisoners, 636 politicians, 382–83; 520 politics: and National Conventions, 567–70, 574–81, 581–90; and race, 528–31, 534, 535–37 (see civil rights; Civil

Rights Act of 1964; political parties).See also Democratic National Convention speeches; politicians. polygamy, 48 ‘‘popular sovereignty,’’ 76–77 Porcaro, Jeff, 615–16 Port Hudson, 204 Port Royal Experiment, 175–95, 353 porter, 430–33; story of a, 433–35 Portsmouth, 18 Poston, Theadore, 472–72 potatoes, 181 poverty, 86–87, 356, 436–38, 523, 586–578, 589–90. See Depression, The prayer, 14, 15, 162–63 prejudice, 386, 390–91, 429; in the church, 59–61 Price, Joseph C., 270–72 prison: Cuban, 3–4. See also jail prisoners, 55–56, 88 privateering, 16–17 profaneness, 33–34 professionals, 264 prohibition, 72, 424 property, 119, 183, 301, 349–50, 380, 545, 597, 258; humans as, 76 prophet, 52 public service, 347–48 Pullman Company, 430–33, 433–35, 433 punishment, 28, 68; corporal, 178. See also ﬂogging Purdie, Bernard, 615–16 Puritans, 122–23 ‘‘pushcart peddler colony,’’ 469–72 PWA Housing Project, 440 Quakers, 122, 201 Quakers206 Quartermaster, 191–92 quotations, 71–74 race collaboration, 338, 414–15, 416, 583, 584–85, 668; presidential address on, 529–31, 682 race pride, 72, 73, 411–12, 413, 415–16, 604; trials and, 429 race relations, 357–58, 387, 521–28; dialogue concerning, 520–21, 625, 684– 88; letter from/to, 107–108; migration and, 379–80; in early North Carolina, 364–65, 365–67; progress and, 414–15, 531–33, 568–69; and riots, 400–401

714

Index racial differences, purported, 26 racial hierarchy, African, 421 racism, 416, 417 radicalism, 442; 509 railway segregation, 246–47, 289–93 Rainbow Coalition, 576–77, 579 Raines, Chuck, 611–16 Randolph, A. Philip, 430, 506–508 rape: false accusations of, 428 rations, 186–87 Rauh, Joseph L., 506 Reagan, President Ronald, 577–79, 586 Reaganomics, 577–79, 586 reconciliation with God, 624–25 Reconstruction: failure of, 436–37 refugee camp, 249–51, 254–55 relationships, ﬁctional, 422–24 religion, 200–203, 239, 348, 420, 421; Anglo-Saxon, 277–79, 388–89; in Baurnou (West Africa), 7–8; and civil rights, 533–34; in Europe, 277; in Midlothian, Illinois, 474; of New England, 123; place in abolitionism, 122–23, 133–34, 135; of slaves, 179; repatriation, 73, 224–28, 379–80, 406–407; desired by whites, 25; ﬁnancing of, 228–29 Republican Party, 154–55 research, community development, 439 retrospectives, 412–13, 413–14 reunion, 5, 40–41; with masters, 5 Revolution of 1848, 98 Revolutionary War, 34, 207–209 Reynolds, Lieutenant-Colonel William H., 194 Richtmyer, Superintendent, 433, 435 Rights of Man, The, 241 riots, 148–49; 399–400, 438, 445; causes, 441– 42. See also Harlem riot; Topeka riot rivalry among servants, 13–14 Rolla, 132, 133 Rolling Stone, 641 Romans, 277–78 Roosevelt, President Franklin D., 370 Ross, Diana, 641–43, 676 roustabout, 490–91, 493 runaway slaves, 201–202, 240, 244, 245–46; aiding of, 157–58; destinations of, 365; during the Civil War, 175–76; law regarding, 47; military and, 352; patrols for, 75; sources of information on, 112– 13. See also captivity, escape; refugee camp

rural life, 332–33, 334–36, 439–38, 487–89, 605 Russia, 95 Ryder, Arthur Hilton, 336–37 rymandering, 537 Sabbath, West Africa, 8 salvation, 15, 34–35, 36–37 Sancho, Ignatius, 27 satire, 374–75 savings bank, 266 school, 217–18, 248; American common, 298, 299, 301; in churches, 263; elementary, 602; for freed slaves, 173, 192–93, 356; in Harlem, 445; for higher education, 205, 259; inadequacy of, 381; for law, 218–19; in Liberia, 284, 285–86; rural, 301–302; segregated, 608–609 (see Brown v. Board of Education; Plessy v. Ferguson). See also teachers; technical education Scottsboro boys, 426 Scottsboro case, 426–29 Scripture, 179; on slavery, 110–11 Scufﬂeton, North Carolina, 365 Sea Islands, 173 seceding states, 162–70 segregation, 382, 539, 600–602, 606, 608– 609, 610–11; court rulings and, 289– 93; in the military, 504–505, 505–508; prohibition of, 216; on the railway, 246–47; residential, 524; in school, 517–20. See also Brown v. Board of Education; Plessy v. Ferguson self-awareness, 71–77 self-help organizations, 315–16. See also selfreliance self-reliance, 265, 286, 302, 471; schools and, 304–305 ‘‘separate but equal,’’ 373–74; overturning of, 517–20 sermon, 233–39, 275–80 Seward, William, 160–61 shame, 85 shanty town, 469–72 sharecropping, 603–604 Sharpton, Reverend Al, 670–73 Shaw, Colonel Robert Gould, 204 Sherman, General T. W., 174 Shippen, Reverend R. R., 267–69 ships: commandeering of, 2–3 Shriley, W., 6–7

Index 715 signs from Heaven, 52 sin, 32, 33; 279; slaves to, 36 skilled laborers, 17, 341–42, 366–67; migration of, 384 skills, technical, 237. See also technical education slave driver, 75, 178–79 slave narratives, 48–51, 62–65; escaped, 74–75 slave pens, 248 slave raids, 49–51 slave revolt: John Brown and, 100; maritime, 54–55, 244; in Mississippi, 145– 46; Nat Turner and, 51–54, 88, 139– 41; in New Orleans, 155; in South Carolina, 131–32; in the West Indies, 133. See also Brown, John; Turner, Nat slave sale, 10–11, 12; in Africa, 40, 41–42; in America, 12 slave ship, 43–46 slave states, 104–104, 106. See also speciﬁc states slave trade, 37, 47–48, 120, 127; internal, 150; Northern participation in, 128. See also slave sale slave traders, 248, 249 slaveholder rights, 130 slavery, 272, 312; African, 39–40, 41, 42; childhood and, 63; comparisons, 28; conditions of, 64–65, 74–75, 113–14; 176–77, 177–78, 248–51; escape from, 39–40, 62, 240; law, 96–97; laws under the Confederacy, 165–66; legitimacy of, 118–20; Missouri and, 129–31; nonplantation culture of, 364–65; regulations on by Congress, 125; restrictions on music, 664–65; as a threat to the union, 158–60. See also Letters on American Slavery; runaway slaves slavery renunciation, 90, 91–100, 121–22. See also abolitionism; abolitionists; Anti-Slavery Society slaves: accounts of, 48–51, 62–65, 113–14; the arts among, 27; demographics of, 126–27, 157–58, 176, 363–64; freed, 36–37; religion among, 179, 200–203 Smith, Gerrit, 152 Smith, Mag, 85–87 Smith, Steve, 658–66 social progress, 260–61, 283; 291. See also civil rights

‘‘Society, The,’’ 132 Society of Friends: See Quakers Sojourner Truth, 198–203 songs, 202–203, 252–54, 336–37, 485–86; at work, 483; by Alberta Hunter, 571–74; children’s, 463–467; of the Coonjine, 491–95; by Hollis (Fat Head), 485; by O’Neill Carrington, 502; by Ross (Po’ Charles) Williams, 485; by W. D. (Alabama) Stewart, 486. See also spirituals Soul of White Folks, The, 385–95 South Carolina, 162, 164, 226 South Carolina Project Workers, 447 South Carolina State Baptist Convention, 225–26 Southerners: condition of African American, 258–66; in the pre-Reconstruction South, 357–58; slave-free balance of, 363–64; view of the U. S. government, 212–13. See also freed blacks;land tenure spirituals, 413, 447–54 ‘‘squatter sovereignty,’’ 106 St. Domingo, 131, 132 St. Helena Island, South Carolina, 176 St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, 233 Staffed House, 134 standard of living, 347; recommendations for, 347–51. See also slavery, conditions of Standing Committee on Emigration of the Board of Directors (ACS), 224–29 State Farm work camp, 485, 486 steamboating, 490–95 steamer, 247 Stephens, Alexander H., 166, 168–69 Stewart, W. D. (Alabama), 486 stowaway, 4; 244 Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 65, 198–203, 267–68 Straker, D. Augustus, 218–24 students, 332. See also school subsistence, 193–94 suburbs, 474–76 suffrage, 79–80, 350, 361–62; pre-1835, 364. See also voting rights Sumner, Charles, 159, 221–22, 354 Supreme Court: on Amistad, 54; on citizenship, 75–76; on Dread Scott, 75–76, 77–80, 81–84; resistance to, 78, 79; on school segregation, 517–20; Scottsboro appeal and, 426; on segregation, 289– 93. See also Amistad trial Supremes, The, 675–76, 676–79

716

Index Survey Graphic, 409, 438 Sweatt v. Painter, 519 Tappan, Arthur, 137, 139, 244 Tappan, Lewis, 144–45 taxes, 119, 302, 530 teacher training, 307, 330 teachers, 263–64, 302, 305, 331, 349, 595– 96; 609–610; female, 315 technical education: See industrial education Temptations, The, 644–47, 676 Tennessee, 258, 331–33, 334–35, 592–99 Terrell, Mary Church, 309–310, 313–19 testimonial, 200–202 testimony, 112 Texas, 124, 151–52, 155–56, 162, 169, 310 Thayer, Al, 496–99 theater, 374–75, 422–26 theft, 17, 18, 32, 75 Thirteenth Amendment, 290 Thompson, Esabel M., 436–38 Thompson, Estelle, 324 Thompson, George, 147 Three Million Bill, 156 tithe money, 460 Tombs Prison, 401 Topeka Relief Association, 252 Torrey, Reverend Charles, 157 torture, 50 Tourgueneff, N., 94 trade union, 235 translations, 95–96 travel: by sea, 2, 4–5 treason, 103–104 trial: concerning slave revolts, 51–54, 88; of the Amistad, 57–58 Truman, President Harry: desegregation of the military and, 504–505, 506–508 Trumball, Senator Lyman, 356–57 Tulsa race riots, 399–401 Turner’s Rebellion, 53–54, 139–41 Turner, Bishop Henry, 274, 379 Turner, Nat, 139–41; confessions of, 51–54 Tuskegee annual report, 340–46 Tuskegee club, 316 Tuskegee Normal and Industrial School, 259, 263, 311; attendance and programs, 343–44; ﬁnances of, 344–46 ‘‘Twenty-ﬁrst Rule,’’ 150–51 Tyler, John, 146

Uncle Tom’s Story of His Life, 65–66 unemployment insurance, 471 Union League, 197 Union, the: army, 197–98; attacks, 174, 203, 204–205; dissolution of, 155, 158– 60; 162–70; threats to, 121–22; uniformity of, 160–61 unions, 430–33 United Nations, 509–510, 540 United States: hope for, 669, 671; hypocrisy of, 394–95; legal inception of, 126; as a melting pot, 631, 667, 668, 684–88; seal of, 618. See also America United States vs. the schooner Amistad, 57–58 United States-Russian relations, 587 Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA), 378–79, 395, 404–405; followers, 406, 407–408 Utah: and ‘‘popular sovereignty,’’ 76–77 Van Buren, Martin, 154 Vassa, Gustavus: See Equiano, Olaudah victimization, 535 Villard, Oswald Garrison, 204–205 Virginia, 88, 124, 373. See also Brown, John von Humboldt, Alexander, 95–97 voter registration, 635 voting rights, 79–80, 211–12, 337–40, 349– 50, 582; violation of, 536–37. See also suffrage; Voting Rights Act of 1965 Voting Rights Act of 1965, 548–57 wages, 189, 191, 347; railroad and, 431–33 war, 389. See also Civil War; MexicanAmerican War; World War I; World War II; Civil War; Mexican-American War; World War I; World War II; Civil War; Mexican-American War; World War I; World War II War Department, 354, 355 Warren, Chief Justice Earle, 517–20 Washington D.C., 261; British attack on, 208 Washington, Booker T., 263, 288, 301–302, 408; on education and opportunity, 281–83; on the Hardwick Bill, 337–40; on practical education and self-reliance, 311–13; on race collaboration, 295–96; Tuskegee annual report by, 340–46 wealth, 261–262, 597; acquisition of, 435 Weaver, Robert C., 520–28

Index 717 Webster Law. See Fugitive Slave Act of 1793 Webster, Daniel, 207 Webster, Delia, 157 Weitzel, General Godfrey, 204 Wentworth, John, 160 West African coast, 10–11, 40–41, 42–44. See also Gold Coast West, Dorothy, 454–58; on Daddy Grace, 457–61; interview, 463; on New York Negro Society, 476–80 What the Southern Negro is Doing for Himself, 256–66 Wheatley, Phyllis, 317 white supremacy, 631–33 White, Nathaniel B., 640 White, Walter, 399–401 Whittier, John Greenleaf, 268 Wilberforce University, 594 Wilberforce, William, 120; 134 Williams, Ross (Po’ Charles), 485 Williams, Buster, 616 Williams, Ellis, 480–82 Wils, George, 170–71 Winslow, General, 1, 5 Winthrop, Robert C., 298 Wise, Governor Henry A., 100–108

women, 73; 309–310, 313–19; activism among, 31; business ownership among, 317–18; educators, 314–15; experiences of, 641–42; lack of opportunity, 595; narratives by, 84–87; self-help organizations and, 315–16 women’s rights, 309–310 ‘‘Woman at the Wall, The,’’ 499–502 Woodson, Carter G., 310–11; on Negro migration, 379–85 Wordsworth, William, 169–70 work camp, 485 Work Progress Administration (WPA) Writers, 463–72; 487. See also Byrd, Frank; Hawkes, Ina B.; Morris, Vivian; West, Dorothy Workers Alliance, 484–85 world situation, 588 World War I, 393, 394 World War II, 607 Wright, Jeremiah, 680, 682 Wright, Richard, 499 Wright, Wade, 428 writers, 594. See also speciﬁc writers Zadig, 284–85

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About the Author LIONEL C. BASCOM is Professor of Journalism at Western Connecticut State University and is the editor of A Renaissance in Harlem: Lost Stories of an African Community (1999), as well as author of numerous other books and essays.