Read Slavery by Another Name Online
Authors: Douglas A. Blackmon
to the United States.)
Amid that swel ing wave of public sentiment, shared by the
simplest and most advanced white Americans, the moral
implications of the Civil War faltered. More than thirty- ve years
had passed since the end of the con ict, long enough that the grief
and anger associated with individual deaths and disasters had
muted. Aging Union veterans of the Civil War were declining as a
muted. Aging Union veterans of the Civil War were declining as a
national voting bloc. In place of the war's fading emotional
resonance, a cult of reunion and reconciliation among whites in al
regions arose, embraced by leaders of al national parties who had
grown weary of the "bloody shirt"—a euphemism for demagogic
political tactics designed to stir regional emotions.
There was a palpable sense that northerners were no longer
wil ing to risk renewed violence to enforce a thinly supported
victor's justice on the South. Al demands for southern acquiescence
to guilt for the war were dissolving. A generation of post-Civil War
southerners—like Pace, McRee, and their contemporaries—were
approaching middle age. They were anxious to redeem their fathers
who fought and died in southern regiments and the skil of the
o cers who led them from the tarnish of defeat, the scandal of
treason, and the perceived amorality of slavery. Southerners—and
growing numbers of northern whites—gravitated to a new
interpretation of the rebel ion, one that abandoned any depiction of
the war as a defeated insurrection and instead permit ed open
reverence for southern "qualities" of bat le eld ferocity and social
chivalry, and for speci c acts of Confederate heroism to be
incorporated into col ective American history.
Georgia's federal judge Emory Speer, overseeing the new slavery
cases emerging in southern Georgia, summed up the new
conventional history in his 1903 commencement speech to
graduates of Atlanta's Emory University. Taking the life of Robert E.
Lee as his topic, Judge Speer cal ed for an explicit rehabilitation of
the once disgraced Confederate military commander. America, he
said, "can no longer a ord to question the military and personal
honor of Lee and his noble compatriots. America, with al her
acknowledged power, cannot fail to appropriate that warlike
renown, which gleamed on the bayonets and blazed in the serried
vol eys of the soldiers of the South."14
The South had nothing to be ashamed of anymore. The myth that
the war had been fought over regional patriotism rather than
slavery became rooted in American identity. Even slavery itself
came to be remembered not as one of the basal crimes of American
came to be remembered not as one of the basal crimes of American
society, but as a nearly benign anachronism. White Americans
arrived at a contradictory but rm view that slavery was a relic of
the past that had rightful y expired, but that coerced servitude and
behavior was nonetheless the appropriate role in national life for
blacks. Whites in the North and the South could be on the same
side in this perverse recasting of the war's narrative. That new
consensus unleashed typhonic waves across black life.
The blithe testimony of an elderly black man to a Georgia
legislative commission inquiring into nancial improprieties in that
state's convict leasing system il ustrated the gratuitous cynicism that
steeped the lives of African Americans. In June 1901, the man,
named Ephraim Gaither, was being held in a work camp for men
arrested and convicted of minor o enses at an isolated location
about fty miles north of Atlanta. Gaither had been arrested on a
dubious charge of carrying a concealed weapon. After conviction,
he was sold along with 105 other men to a timber-cut ing operation
control ed by one of Atlanta's most prominent businessmen, Joel
Hurt. That month, a sixteen-year-old boy arrived in the camp to
serve three months of hard labor for an unspeci ed misdemeanor
he had al egedly commit ed.
"He was around the yard sorter playing and he started walking of
and got to trot ing a lit le bit, playing around there and got behind
a pine tree," Gaither recounted calmly, in testimony to the
commit ee of Georgia elected o cials. "There was a young fel ow,
one of the bosses, up in a pine tree and he had his gun and shot at
the lit le negro and shot this side of his face o ," Gaither said as he
pointed to the left side of his face.
The fellow runs o to the woods about thirty or forty yards and the
guards follow him. Then Charley Goodson, he goes and gets the dog and
puts on the trail of him and they start off, the dogs are barking the way the
negro went o . Directly they came back and I heard one of the guards say
that negro he done and goes across the mountain and we can't get him.
That is when they come back with the dogs and everything was quiet. That
was on Thursday, Thursday evening. They let that negro stay there lying in
the woods from Thursday to Thursday and it gets to stinking so bad we
couldn't stand it hardly; and we complained about the smell. That day we
noticed a bitch, a hound bitch it was going across by the edge of the
woods with something in its mouth and we looked and seed that it was the
arm of that poor negro that they had killed down there in the woods. The
dog had torn the arm o of him and was dragging it down through the
edge of the woods with the ngers dragging on the ground. The Bosses
took John Williams and two or three others, I don't remember the names
now and made him a pine box and went down there and buried him.
Members of the commit ee responded by gril ing Gaither about
why he came to the state capitol that day to testify and whether a
black man's word could be trusted. "Did any white men see that?"
asked one state representative, about the events described by
Gaither. Another quizzed Gaither as to whether any white man in
Atlanta could vouch for him. Final y he was asked: "You were a bad
negro?"
Gaither responded: "No boss, I was no bad negro. They thought I
was." No queries were made as to the identities of the boy kil ed,
the camp boss who shot him, or why myriad state regulations
governing the treatment of prisoners at the time or the handling of
a convict's death were never ful l ed.15 The homicide Gaither
described was never investigated.
The harvest of that river of animosity was palpable for thousands of
African Americans. A venomous contempt for black life was not just
tolerated but increasingly celebrated. On Tybee Island o the coast
of Georgia, guards drove a squad of black men arrested by the local
sheri into the surf to bathe. Few could swim. Weighed down by
bal s and chains, four were swept into the sea. The body of
misdemeanant Charles Walker surfaced a day later on the edge of
nearby Screven Island.16
When a black man in Henderson, North Carolina, refused to give
up his reserved seat in a local theater to a white patron in April
1903, he was forcibly ejected. When he resisted being removed, the
1903, he was forcibly ejected. When he resisted being removed, the
black man was shot dead by a policeman.17 White southerners
applauded broadly.
A white mob seized an African Methodist Episcopal minister in
Lees-burg, Georgia, named Rev. W W Wil iams that spring after he
began to emerge among local blacks in the farm community as an
in uential leader. White men owned nearly al the area's land and
were accustomed to the same conjugal rights with black women on
their farms as had existed during antebel um slavery. Rev. Wil iams
began preaching that black women should resist the sexual
advances of the dominant white men of the community, wrote Rev.
J. E. Sistrunk, in an account of the at ack sent to the Department of
Justice. "The mob …went upon him without warning and taken
him out of the parson aide [parsonage] …and strip[p]ed him
naked and one sat upon his h[e]ad and each by turns with a buggy
whip, whipped him until his back was raw from head to foot and
after whipping him they told him that they whipped him because
he was control ing colored women."18
Southerners particularly reveled at gruesome scenes of racial
violence that occurred outside their region, a rming the hypocrisy
of those Yankee critics who stil criticized racial conditions in the
former Confederacy. For weeks, carnage continued between blacks
and whites in Joplin, Missouri, and Wilmington, Delaware. In April,
a thirty-year-old black man named Thomas Gilyard was lynched in
Joplin, fol owed by the reported expulsion of every black in the
city19 In May, newspapers closely fol owed a "race war" in
Louisvil e, Kentucky20
Accounts of mortal clashes between whites and blacks, and the
raging mobs that often fol owed such incidents, lit ered the pages of
newspapers in the rst years of the century. "Race War in
Mississippi," the Advertiser screamed in May 1903, after blacks and
whites near the town of Laurel bat led over several days, leaving at
least one white farmer and "several negroes" dead. "The enraged
white men of the community are stil in the saddle searching for the
negro who instigated the trouble," the paper reported with dramatic
negro who instigated the trouble," the paper reported with dramatic
thril .21
The same month, whites in Indianapolis, Indiana, began meeting
to formulate a plan for removing African Americans from the city.
Independence Day 1903 stirred extraordinary black and white
hostility. In the tiny South Carolina town of Norway, a white
farmer's son severely beat four black workers. In retaliation, the
father, a one-armed Confederate veteran, was gunned down at his
dinner table with a shotgun blast through a window. Local whites
seized a black man in retaliation and lynched him. In response,
more than two hundred armed blacks surrounded the town on July
4, threatening to burn it to the ground. The state's governor
dispatched the South Carolina militia to counterat ack.22
In Evansvil e, Indiana, crowds of blacks and whites bat led on
July 5 over the fate of a black man accused of kil ing a white police
o cer. Whites successful y broke into the city jail, but were driven
back by armed blacks. Police charged in to disperse the crowds and
spirit away the accused man.
On the same day, a mob of six hundred whites went in search of
a black woman in Peoria, Il inois, who was accused of having
beaten a white boy. After discovering that the woman already was
in jail, the crowd at acked her home, dismantling it to the
foundation and throwing al her furniture and belongings into the
Il inois River. In Thomasvil e, Georgia, a street argument between a
black man and his wife accelerated into a running gun ght between
a white posse and crowds of African Americans.23
The New York Times opined in mid-July 1903 that "respectable
negroes" should ban the city's bad ones. "There are in New York
thousands of ut erly worthless negro desperadoes," the Times wrote,
"gamblers when they have money and thieves when they have none,
moral lepers and more dangerous than wild animals." The
newspaper fol owed up later in the month with hysterical coverage
of racial disturbances in the city. "Negroes At ack Police" blared a
headline over an account of a ght that broke out on West 62nd
Street after an Irish policeman shoved a "disrespectful" black man
Street after an Irish policeman shoved a "disrespectful" black man
on a sidewalk.24
Infuriated by the setbacks su ered by blacks in al regions of the
country, W. E. B. DuBois, the rising young sociologist—the rst
African American Ph.D. graduated by Harvard—wrote that the
South "is simply an armed camp for intimidating black folk." The
emancipation act that had ended the Civil War had transmogri ed
into "a race feud," he said. "Not a single Southern legislature stood
ready to admit a Negro under any conditions, to the pol s; not a
single Southern legislature believed free Negro labor was possible
without a system of restrictions that took al its freedoms away;
there was scarcely a white man in the South who did not honestly
regard Emancipation as a crime, and its practical nul i cation as a
duty"25
X
THE DISAPPROBATION OF GOD
"It is a very rare thing that a negro escapes."
Warren Reese refused to believe the white South was