After going over the field very carefully it was decided that there was just one man possessing the necessary qualifications,—B.K. Bruce, of Bolivar County. He, it was decided, was just the man for the place, and to him the nomination was to be tendered. A committee was appointed to wait on Mr. Bruce and inform him of the action of the conference, and urge him to consent to the use of his name. But Mr. Bruce positively declined. He could not be induced under any circumstances to change his mind. He was fixed in his determination not to allow his name to be used for the office of Lieutenant-Governor, and from that determination he could not be moved.

Mr. Bruce's unexpected attitude necessitated a radical change in the entire program. It had been agreed that the Lieutenant-Governorship should go to a colored man, but after Brace's declination the Ames managers were obliged to take one of two men,—H.C. Carter, or A.K. Davis. Davis was the more acceptable of the two; but neither, it was thought, was a fit and suitable man to be placed at the head of the executive department of the State. After again going over the field, and after canvassing the situation very carefully, it was decided that Ames would not be a candidate to succeed himself as United States Senator, but that he would be a candidate to succeed Senator Alcorn. This decision, in all probability, would not have been made if Alcorn had been willing to abide by the decision of the convention. But, since he announced his determination to bolt the nomination of his party for Governor and run as an Independent candidate, it was decided that he had forfeited any claim he otherwise would have had upon the party to succeed himself in the Senate. Senator Alcorn's term would expire March 4, 1877. His successor would be elected by the Legislature that would be chosen in November, 1875. If Ames should be elected to the Governorship his successor in that office would be elected in November, 1877. In the event of his election to the Senate to succeed Senator Alcorn, his term as Senator would commence March 4, 1877, yet he could remain in the office of Governor until the meeting of Congress the following December, thus practically serving out the full term as Governor.

With that plan mapped out and agreed upon, and the party leaders committed to its support, Davis was allowed to be nominated for the office of Lieutenant-Governor. Two other colored men were also placed upon the State ticket,—James Hill, for Secretary of State, and T.W. Cardozo, for State Superintendent of Education. While Davis had made quite a creditable record as a member of the Legislature, it could not be said that his name added strength to the ticket. Hill, on the other hand, was young, active, and aggressive, and considerably above the average colored man in point of intelligence at that time. His nomination was favorably received, because it was generally believed that, if elected, he would discharge the duties of the office in a way that would reflect credit upon himself and give satisfaction to the public. In point of education and experience Cardozo was admitted to be entirely capable of filling the office of Superintendent of Education; but he was not well known outside of his own county, Warren. In fact his nomination was largely a concession to that strong Republican county.

The three white men nominated,—besides the candidate for Governor,—were, W.H. Gibbs, for Auditor of Public Accounts; Geo. E. Harris, for Attorney-General, and Geo. H. Holland, for State Treasurer. Gibbs had been a member of the Constitutional Convention of 1868, and subsequently a member of the State Senate. Holland had served as a member of the Legislature from Oktibbeha County. Harris had been a member of Congress from the Second (Holly Springs) District, having been defeated for the nomination in 1872 by A.R. Howe, of Panola County. While the ticket, as a whole, was not a weak one, its principal strength was in its head,—the candidate for Governor.

Shortly after the adjournment of the convention Senator Alcorn had another convention called which nominated a ticket, composed exclusively of Republicans, with himself at its head for Governor. The Democrats at their convention endorsed the Alcorn ticket. While it would seem that this action on the part of the Democrats ought to have increased Alcorn's chances of success, it appears to have been a contributory cause of his defeat. Thousands of Republicans who were in sympathy with the movement, and who would have otherwise voted the Alcorn ticket, refused to do so for the reason that if it had been elected the Democrats could have claimed a victory for their party. On the other hand, both tickets being composed exclusively of Republicans, thousands of Democrats refused to vote for either, while some of them voted the Ames ticket. At any rate the election resulted in the success of the Ames ticket by a majority of more than twenty thousand. The regular Republicans also had a large majority in both branches of the Legislature.



CHAPTER VII

MISSISSIPPI SENDS B.K. BRUCE TO THE UNITED STATES SENATE

As soon as the result of the election was known, the candidacy of B.K. Bruce, for United States Senator to succeed Senator Ames, was announced. Ames' term as Governor was to commence the first Monday in January, 1874. His term as Senator would expire March 4, 1875. Upon assuming the duties of Governor he had been obliged to tender his resignation as Senator; thus it devolved upon the incoming legislature to elect a Senator to serve out the unexpired term, as well as for the full term of six years. Bruce's candidacy was for the full term.

The secret of Mr. Bruce's positive refusal to allow his name to be used for the Lieutenant-Governorship, which would have resulted in making him Governor, was now revealed. He had had the Senatorship in mind at the time, but, of course, no allusion was made to that fact. As between the Senatorship and the Governorship he chose the former, which proved to be a wise decision, in view of subsequent events. It was soon developed that he was the choice of a large majority of the Republican members of the Legislature, white as well as colored. His nomination by the party caucus, therefore, was a foregone conclusion. Before the legislature met, it had been practically settled that Mr. Bruce should be sent to the Senate for the long term and Ex-Superintendant of Education, H.R. Pease, should be elected to serve out the unexpired term of Governor-elect Ames.

This slate was approved by the joint legislative caucus without a hitch and the candidates thus nominated were duly elected by the Legislature,—not only by the solid Republican vote of that body, but the additional vote of State Senator Hiram Cassidy, Jr., who had been elected as a Democrat.

Senator Alcorn's keen disappointment and chagrin at the outcome of his fight with Governor Ames was manifested when Senator Bruce made his appearance to be sworn in as a Senator. It was presumed that Senator Alcorn, in accordance with the uniform custom on such occasions, would escort his colleague to the desk of the President of the Senate to be sworn in. This Senator Alcorn refused to do. When Mr. Bruce's name was called Senator Alcorn did not move; he remained in his seat, apparently giving his attention to his private correspondence. Mr. Bruce, somewhat nervous and slightly excited, started to the President's desk unattended. Senator Roscoe Conkling, of New York, who was sitting near by, immediately rose and extended his arm to Mr. Bruce and escorted him to the President's desk, standing by the new Senator's side until the oath had been administered, and then tendering him his hearty congratulations, in which all the other Republican Senators, except Senator Alcorn, subsequently joined.

This gracious act on the part of the New York Senator made for him a lifelong friend and admirer in the person of Senator Bruce. This friendship was so strong that Senator Bruce named his first and only son Roscoe Conkling, in honor of the able, distinguished, and gallant Senator from New York.

Senator Alcorn's action in this matter was the occasion of considerable unfavorable criticism and comment, some of his critics going so far as to intimate that his action was due to the fact that Mr. Bruce was a colored man. But, from my knowledge of the man and of the circumstances connected with the case, I am satisfied this was not true. His antipathy to Mr. Bruce grew out of the fact that Mr. Bruce had opposed him and had supported Ames in the fight for Governor in 1873.

So far as I have been able to learn, I am the only one of the Senator's friends and admirers who opposed his course in that contest that he ever forgave. He, no doubt, felt that I was under less personal obligations to him than many others who pursued the same course that I did, since he had never rendered me any effective personal or political service, except when he brought the Independent members of the House in line for me in the contest for Speaker of that body in 1872; and even then his action was not so much a matter of personal friendship for me as it was in the interest of securing an endorsement of his own administration as Governor.

In Mr. Bruce's case he took an entirely different view of the matter. He believed that he had been the making of Mr. Bruce. Mr. Bruce had come to the State in 1869 and had taken an active part in the campaign of that year. When the Legislature was organized it was largely through the influence of Governor Alcorn that he was elected Sergeant-at-arms of the State Senate. When the Legislature adjourned Governor Alcorn sent Bruce to Bolivar county as County Assessor. Bruce discharged the duties of that office in such a creditable and satisfactory manner that he was elected in 1871 Sheriff and Tax Collector of that important and wealthy county, the most responsible and lucrative office in the gift of the people of the county. He was holding that office when elected to the United States Senate. Senator Alcorn felt, therefore, that in taking sides against him and in favor of Ames in 1873 Mr. Bruce was guilty of gross ingratitude. This accounted for his action in refusing to escort Mr. Bruce to the President's desk to be sworn in as Senator. In this belief, however, he did Mr. Bruce a grave injustice, for I know that gratitude was one of Mr. Brace's principal characteristics. If Senator Alcorn had been a candidate from the start for the Republican nomination for Governor, Mr. Bruce, I am sure, would have supported him even as against Senator Ames. But it was known that the Senator had no ambition to be Governor. His sole purpose was to defeat Senator Ames at any cost, and that, too, on account of matters that were purely personal and that had no connection with party or political affairs. Mr. Bruce, like very many other friends and admirers of the Senator, simply refused to follow him in open rebellion against his own party. I am satisfied, however, that Mr. Bruce's race identity did not influence the action of Senator Alcorn in the slightest degree. As further evidence of that fact, his position and action in the Pinchback case may be mentioned. He spoke and voted for the admission of Mr. Pinchback to a seat in the Senate when such a staunch Republican as Senator Edmunds, of Vermont, opposed and voted against admission. In spite of Senator Alcorn's political defeat and humiliation in his own State, he remained true and loyal to the National Republican party to the end of his Senatorial term, which terminated with the beginning of the Hayes Administration. Up to that time he had strong hopes of the future of the Republican party at the South.



CHAPTER VIII

IMPROVED FINANCIAL CONDITION OF MISSISSIPPI UNDER THE AMES ADMINISTRATION

The administrations of Governor Alcorn and of Governor Ames, the two Republican Governors, who were products of Reconstruction,—both having been elected chiefly by the votes of colored men,—were among the best with which that State was ever blessed, the generally accepted impression to the contrary notwithstanding. In 1869 Alcorn was elected to serve for a term of four years. Ames was elected to serve the succeeding term. Alcorn was one of the old citizens of the State, and was therefore thoroughly identified with its business, industrial, and social interests. He had been one of the large and wealthy landowners and slave-owners, and therefore belonged to that small but select and influential class known as Southern aristocrats.

Alcorn had taken an active and prominent part in public matters since his early manhood. Before the War of the Rebellion he had served several terms as a member of the Legislature. He represented his county, Coahoma, in the Secession Convention of 1861. He was bitterly opposed to Secession and fought it bravely; but when he found himself in a hopeless minority he gracefully acquiesced in the decision of the majority and signed the ordinance of Secession. He also joined the Confederate Army and took an active part in raising troops for the same. He was made brigadier-general, and had command of the Confederate forces in Mississippi for a good while. But, since the President of the Confederacy did not seem to be particularly partial to him, he was not allowed to see very much field service.

When the war was over he took an active part in the work of rehabilitation and Reconstruction. He strongly supported the Andrew Johnson plan of Reconstruction, and by the Legislature that was elected under that plan he was chosen one of the United States Senators, but was not admitted to the seat to which he had been elected. When the Johnson plan of Reconstruction was repudiated and rejected by the voters of the Northern States, and when what was known as the Congressional Plan of Reconstruction was endorsed and approved, Alcorn decided that further opposition to that plan was useless and unwise, and he publicly advised acceptance of it. His advice having been rejected by the Democrats, nothing remained for him to do but to join the Republican party, which he did in the early part of 1869.

Since he was known to be a strong, able and influential man,—one who possessed the respect and confidence of the white people of the State regardless of party differences,—he was tendered the Republican nomination for the Governorship at the election that was to be held the latter part of that year. He accepted the nomination and was duly elected. He discharged the duties of the office in an able, creditable and satisfactory manner. The only point upon which the administration was at all subject to unfavorable criticism was the high rate of taxation to which the people were subjected for the support of the State Government; but the reader will see that this could hardly have been avoided at that particular time. In his message to the Legislature in January, 1910, Governor E.F. Noel accurately stated the principle by which an administration is necessarily governed in raising revenue to carry on the government. This is the same principle that governed the Alcorn administration when it took charge of the State Government in 1870. In that message Governor Noel said: "The amount of assessment determines the tax burden of each individual, corporation, town, and county. The Legislature or local authorities settle the amount necessary to be provided for their respective treasuries. If all property be assessed at the same rate,—whether for the full value or for ten per cent, of the value of the property,—the payment of each owner would be unaffected; for the higher the assessment, the lower the levy; the lower the assessment, the higher the levy. Our State revenue is mainly derived from a six mill ad valorem tax."

When the Alcorn administration took charge of the State Government the War had just come to a close. Everything was in a prostrate condition. There had been great depreciation in the value of real and personal property. The credit of the State was not very good. The rate of interest for borrowed money was high. To materially increase the bonded debt of the State was not deemed wise, yet some had to be raised in that way. To raise the balance a higher rate of taxation had to be imposed since the assessed valuation of the taxable property was so low.

The figures showing the assessed valuation of taxable property in the State and the receipts and disbursements prior to 1875 are not available, but, taking the figures for that year, the reader can form a pretty accurate idea of what the situation must have been prior to that time. In 1875 the assessed valuation of real and personal property, subject to taxation in the State, was $119,313,834. The receipts from all sources that year amounted to $1,801,129.12. The disbursements for the same year were, $1,430,192.83.

Now let us see what the situation was after the Ames administration had been in power about two years,—or half of the term for which it had been elected. According to a very carefully prepared statement that was made and published by an expert accountant in the State Treasurer's office in the latter part of 1875 the ad valorem rate of taxes for general purposes had been reduced from seven to four mills, and yet the amount paid into the Treasury was not only enough to meet all demands upon the State, but to make a material reduction in the bonded debt. The following is taken from that statement:

"An examination of the report of the State Treasurer, of the first of January, 1874, at which time the administration of Governor Ames commenced, exhibits the fact that the indebtedness of the State at that date, exclusive of the amounts to the credit of the Chickasaw and common school funds, balance of current funds on hand, and warrants in the Treasury belonging to the State, was $1,765,554.33 The amount of the tax of the previous year remaining uncollected on January first, 1874, and afterward collected, $944,261.51, should be deducted from the above amount, which will show the actual indebtedness of the State at that date to be $821,292.82. A further examination of the report of the same officer, for January first, 1875, shows the indebtedness, after deducting amounts to the credit of the Chickasaw and common school funds, balance of current funds on hand and warrants in the Treasury belonging to the State, to be, $1,707,056.24. Then by deducting the amount of the tax of the previous year remaining uncollected January first, 1875, and afterwards collected, $998,628.11, the result shows the actual indebtedness on January first, 1875, to be $708,428.13. The forthcoming annual report of the State Treasurer, for January first, 1876, will show the indebtedness of the State, exclusive of the amounts to the credit of the Chickasaw and common school funds, the balance of current funds on hand, and warrants in the Treasury belonging to the State, to be $980,138.33. Then, by proceeding again as above, and deducting the amount of the tax of the previous year, uncollected on January first, 1876, and now being rapidly paid into the Treasury, at a low estimate, $460,000.00, we have as an actual indebtedness of the State on January first, 1876, $520,138.33. Thus it will be seen that the actual indebtedness of the State is but little over a half million dollars, and that during the two years of Governor Ames' administration the State debt has been reduced from $821,292.82, on January first, 1874, to $520,138.33, on January first, 1876, or a reduction of more than three hundred thousand dollars in two years—upwards of one third of the State debt wiped out in that time. Not only has the debt been reduced as above, but the rate of taxation for general purposes has been reduced from seven mills in 1873 to four mills in 1875."

Notwithstanding the fact that the rate of taxation under the administration of Governor Ames had been reduced as shown above from seven mills in 1873 to four mills in 1875 the amount paid into the State Treasury was substantially the same as that paid in prior years. This was due to the great appreciation in the value of taxable property. Then again, a material reduction in the rate of taxation was made possible because the public institutions had all been rebuilt and repaired and a sufficient number of school buildings had been erected, thus doing away with the necessity for a special levy for such purposes. From this showing it would seem as if it were reasonable to assume that if such an administration as the one then in power could have been retained a few years longer there would not only have been a still further reduction in the rate of taxation, but the payable debt of the State would have been entirely wiped out. Instead of this we find the conditions to be about as follows:

First. Shortly after the first reform State Treasurer had been in charge of that office it was developed that he was a defaulter to the amount of $315,612.19.

Second. Notwithstanding the immense increase in the value of taxable property from year to year, it appears from the official records that the rate of ad valorem tax for general purposes has been increased from four to six mills.

Third. There has been a very heavy increase in what is known as the specific or privilege taxes,—that is, a specific sum that business and professional persons must pay for the privilege of doing business or of practicing their professions in the State.

Fourth. The amounts now collected and paid out for the support of the State Government are more than double what they were a few years ago, thus showing extravagance, if not recklessness, in the administration of the affairs of the State,—the natural result of a condition by which the existence of but one political party is tolerated.

Fifth. Notwithstanding the immense increase in the value of taxable property, and in spite of the enormous sums paid into the State Treasury each year, there has been a material increase in the bonded debt of the State. In fact it has been necessary at different times to borrow money with which to pay the current expenses of the State Government.

The following statistics for three years, 1907, 1908 and 1909, would seem to substantiate the above statement:

The value of the taxable property of the State in 1907 was $373,584.960. Receipts from all sources that year were $3,391,127.15. Disbursements for the same period were $3,730,343.29. Excess of disbursements over receipts, $339,216.14.

In 1908 the value of taxable property was $383,823,739. Receipts from all sources that year were $3,338,398.98. Disbursements, same period, $3,351,119.46. Excess of disbursements over receipts, $12,720.48.

In 1909 the value of taxable property was $393,297,173. Receipts from all sources were $3,303,963.65. Disbursements, same period, $3,315,201.48. Excess of disbursements over receipts, $11,237.83.

On the first day of January, 1907, what is called the payable debt of the State was reported to be $1,253,029.07. On the first day of January, 1876, it was $520,138.33. Increase, $732,890.74.



CHAPTER IX

WHAT CONSTITUTES "NEGRO DOMINATION"

It is claimed that in States, districts, and counties, in which the colored people are in the majority, the suppression of the colored vote is necessary to prevent "Negro Domination,"—to prevent the ascendency of the blacks over the whites in the administration of the State and local governments.

This claim is based upon the assumption that if the black vote were not suppressed in all such States, districts, and counties, black men would be supported and elected to office because they were black, and white men would be opposed and defeated because they were white.

Taking Mississippi for purposes of illustration, it will be seen that there has never been the slightest ground for such an apprehension. No colored man in that State ever occupied a judicial position above that of Justice of the Peace and very few aspired to that position. Of seven State officers only one, that of Secretary of State, was filled by a colored man, until 1873, when colored men were elected to three of the seven offices,—Lieutenant-Governor, Secretary of State, and State Superintendent of Education. Of the two United States Senators and the seven members of the lower house of Congress not more than one colored man occupied a seat in each house at the same time. Of the thirty-five members of the State Senate, and of the one hundred and fifteen members of the House,—which composed the total membership of the State Legislature prior to 1874,—there were never more than about seven colored men in the Senate and forty in the lower house. Of the ninety-seven members that composed the Constitutional Convention of 1868 but seventeen were colored men. The composition of the lower house of the State Legislature that was elected in 1871 was as follows:

Total membership, one hundred and fifteen. Republicans, sixty-six; Democrats, forty-nine. Colored members, thirty-eight. White members, seventy-seven. White majority, thirty-nine.

Of the sixty-six Republicans thirty-eight were colored and twenty-eight, white. There was a slight increase in the colored membership as a result of the election of 1873, but the colored men never at any time had control of the State Government nor of any branch or department thereof, nor even that of any county or municipality. Out of seventy-two counties in the State at that time, electing on an average twenty-eight officers to a county, it is safe to assert that not over five out of one hundred of such officers were colored men. The State; district, county, and municipal governments were not only in control of white men, but white men who were to the manor born, or who were known as old citizens of the State—those who had lived in the State many years before the War of the Rebellion. There was, therefore, never a time when that class of white men known as Carpet-baggers had absolute control of the State Government, or that of any district, county or municipality, or any branch or department thereof. There was never, therefore, any ground for the alleged apprehension of negro domination as a result of a free, fair, and honest election in any one of the Southern or Reconstructed States.

And this brings us to a consideration of the question, What is meant by "Negro Domination?" The answer that the average reader would give to that question would be that it means the actual, physical domination of the blacks over the whites. But, according to a high Democratic authority, that would be an incorrect answer. The definition given by that authority I have every reason to believe is the correct one, the generally accepted one. The authority referred to is the late Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the State of Mississippi, H.H. Chalmers, who, in an article in the North American Review about March, 1881, explained and defined what is meant or understood by the term "Negro Domination."

According to Judge Chalmers' definition, in order to constitute "Negro Domination" it does not necessarily follow that negroes must be elected to office, but that in all elections in which white men may be divided, if the negro vote should be sufficiently decisive to be potential in determining the result, the white man or men that would be elected through the aid of negro votes would represent "Negro Domination." In other words, we would have "Negro Domination" whenever the will of a majority of the whites would be defeated through the votes of colored men. If this is the correct definition of that term,—and it is, no doubt, the generally accepted one,—then the friends and advocates of manhood suffrage will not deny that we have had in the past "Negro Domination," nationally as well as locally, and that we may have it in the future.

If that is the correct definition then we are liable to have "Negro Domination" not only in States, districts, and counties where the blacks are in the majority, but in States, districts and counties where they are few in numbers. If that is the correct definition of "Negro Domination,"—to prevent which the negro vote should be suppressed,—then the suppression of that vote is not only necessary in States, districts, and counties in which the blacks are in the majority, but in every State, district, and county in the Union; for it will not be denied that the primary purpose of the ballot,—whether the voters be white or colored, male or female,—is to make each vote decisive and potential. If the vote of a colored man, or the vote of a white man, determines the result of an election in which he participates, then the very purpose for which he was given the right and privilege will have been accomplished, whether the result, as we understand it, be wise or unwise.

In this connection it cannot and will not be denied that the colored vote has been decisive and potential in very many important National as well as local and State elections. For instance, in the Presidential election of 1868, General Grant, the Republican candidate, lost the important and pivotal State of New York, a loss which would have resulted in his defeat if the Southern States that took part in that election had all voted against him. That they did not do so was due to the votes of the colored men in those States. Therefore Grant's first administration represented "Negro Domination."

Again, in 1876, Hayes was declared elected President by a majority of one vote in the electoral college. This was made possible by the result of the election in the States of Louisiana, South Carolina, and Florida, about which there was much doubt and considerable dispute, and over which there was a bitter controversy. But for the colored vote in those States there would have been no doubt, no dispute, no controversy. The defeat of Mr. Hayes and the election of Mr. Tilden would have been an undisputed and an uncontested fact. Therefore, the Hayes administration represented "Negro Domination."

Again, in 1880, General Garfield, the Republican candidate for President, carried the State of New York by a plurality of about 20,000, without which he could not have been elected. It will not be denied by those who are well informed that if the colored men that voted for him in that State at that time had voted against him, he would have lost the State and, with it, the Presidency. Therefore, the Garfield-Arthur administration represented "Negro Domination."

Again, in 1884, Mr. Cleveland, the Democratic candidate, carried the doubtful but very important State of New York by the narrow margin of 1,147 plurality, which resulted in his election. It cannot and will not be denied that even at that early date the number of colored men that voted for Mr. Cleveland was far in excess of the plurality by which he carried the State. Mr. Cleveland's first administration, therefore, represented "Negro Domination." Mr. Cleveland did not hesitate to admit and appreciate the fact that colored men contributed largely to his success, hence he did not fail to give that element of his party appropriate and satisfactory official recognition.

Again, in 1888, General Harrison, the Republican Presidential candidate, carried the State of New York by a plurality of about 20,000, which resulted in his election, which he would have lost but for the votes of the colored men in that State. Therefore, Harrison's administration represented "Negro Domination."

The same is true of important elections in a number of States, districts and counties in which the colored vote proved to be potential and decisive. But enough has been written to show the absurdity of the claim that the suppression of the colored vote is necessary to prevent "Negro Domination." So far as the State of Mississippi is concerned, in spite of the favorable conditions, as shown above, the legitimate State Government,—the one that represented the honestly expressed will of a majority of the voters of the State,—was in the fall of 1875 overthrown through the medium of a sanguinary revolution. The State Government was virtually seized and taken possession of vi et armis. Why was this? What was the excuse for it? What was the motive, the incentive that caused it? It was not in the interest of good, efficient, and capable government; for that we already had. It was not on account of dishonesty, maladministration, misappropriation of public funds; for every dollar of the public funds had been faithfully accounted for. It was not on account of high taxes; for it had been shown that, while the tax rate was quite high during the Alcorn administration, it had been reduced under the Ames administration to a point considerably less than it is now or than it has been for a number of years. It was not to prevent "Negro Domination" and to make sure the ascendency of the whites in the administration of the State and local governments; for that was then the recognized and established order of things, from which there was no apprehension of departure. Then, what was the cause of this sudden and unexpected uprising? There must have been a strong, if not a justifiable, reason for it. What was it? That question will be answered in a subsequent chapter.



CHAPTER X

OVERTHROW OF THE REPUBLICAN STATE GOVERNMENT IN MISSISSIPPI

In the last preceding chapter it was stated that the reason for the sanguinary revolution, which resulted in the overthrow of the Republican state government in the State of Mississippi in 1875, would be given in a subsequent chapter. What was true of Mississippi at that time was largely true of the other Reconstructed States where similar results subsequently followed. When the War of the Rebellion came to an end it was believed by some, and apprehended by others, that serious and radical changes in the previous order of things would necessarily follow.

But when what was known as the Johnson Plan of Reconstruction was disclosed it was soon made plain that if that plan should be accepted by the country no material change would follow, for the reason, chiefly, that the abolition of slavery would have been abolition only in name. While physical slavery would have been abolished, yet a sort of feudal or peonage system would have been established in its place, the effect of which would have been practically the same as the system which had been abolished. The former slaves would have been held in a state of servitude through the medium of labor-contracts which they would have been obliged to sign,—or to have signed for them,—from which they, and their children, and, perhaps, their children's children could never have been released. This would have left the old order of things practically unchanged. The large landowners would still be the masters of the situation, the power being still possessed by them to perpetuate their own potential influence and to maintain their own political supremacy.

But it was the rejection of the Johnson Plan of Reconstruction that upset these plans and destroyed these calculations. The Johnson plan was not only rejected, but what was known as the Congressional Plan of Reconstruction,—by which suffrage was conferred upon the colored men in all the States that were to be reconstructed,—was accepted by the people of the North as the permanent policy of the government, and was thus made the basis of Reconstruction and readmission of those States into the Union.

Of course this meant a change in the established order of things that was both serious and radical. It meant the destruction of the power and influence of the Southern aristocracy. It meant not only the physical emancipation of the blacks but the political emancipation of the poor whites, as well. It meant the destruction in a large measure of the social, political, and industrial distinctions that had been maintained among the whites under the old order of things. But was this to be the settled policy of the government? Was it a fact that the incorporation of the blacks into the body politic of the country was to be the settled policy of the government; or was it an experiment,—a temporary expedient?

These were doubtful and debatable questions, pending the settlement of which matters could not be expected to take a definite shape. With the incorporation of the blacks into the body politic of the country,—which would have the effect of destroying the ability of the aristocracy to maintain their political supremacy, and which would also have the effect of bringing about the political emancipation of the whites of the middle and lower classes,—a desperate struggle for political supremacy between the antagonistic elements of the whites was inevitable and unavoidable. But the uncertainty growing out of the possibility of the rejection by the country of the Congressional Plan of Reconstruction was what held matters in temporary abeyance. President Johnson was confident,—or pretended to be,—that as soon as the people of the North had an opportunity to pass judgment upon the issues involved, the result would be the acceptance of his plan and the rejection of the one proposed by Congress.

While the Republicans were successful in 1868 in not only electing the President and Vice-President and a safe majority in both branches of Congress, yet the closeness of the result had the effect of preventing the abandonment of the hope on the part of the supporters of the Johnson administration that the administration Plan of Reconstruction would ultimately be adopted and accepted as the basis of Reconstruction. Hence bitter and continued opposition to the Congressional Plan of Reconstruction was declared by the ruling class of the South to be the policy of that section. While the Republicans were again successful in the Congressional elections of 1870 yet the advocates of the Johnson plan did not abandon hope of the ultimate success and acceptance by the country of that plan until after the Presidential and Congressional elections of 1872. In the meantime a serious split had taken place in the Republican party which resulted in the nomination of two sets of candidates for President and Vice-President. The Independent or Liberal Republicans nominated Horace Greeley of New York, for President, and B. Gratz Brown, of Missouri, for Vice-President. The regular Republicans renominated President Grant to succeed himself, and for Vice-President, Senator Henry Wilson, of Massachusetts, was selected.

The Democratic National Convention endorsed the ticket that had been nominated by the Liberal Republicans. The Republicans carried the election by an immense majority. With two or three exceptions the electoral vote of every state in the Union was carried for Grant and Wilson. The Republicans also had a very large majority in both branches of Congress.

Since the result of the election was so decisive, and since every branch of the government was then in the hands of the Republicans, further opposition to the Congressional Plan of Reconstruction was for the first time completely abandoned. The fact was then recognized that this was the settled and accepted policy of the Government and that further opposition to it was useless. A few of the southern whites, General Alcorn being one of the number, had accepted the result of the Presidential and Congressional elections of 1868 as conclusive as to the policy of the country with reference to Reconstruction; but those who thought and acted along those lines at that time were exceptions to the general rule. But after the Presidential and Congressional elections of 1872 all doubt upon that subject was entirely removed.

The Southern whites were now confronted with a problem that was both grave and momentous. But the gravity of the situation was chiefly based upon the possibility,—if not upon a probability,—of a reversal of what had been the established order of things, especially those of a political nature.

The inevitable conflict between the antagonistic elements of which Southern society was composed could no longer be postponed. But the colored vote was the important factor which now had to be considered and taken into account. It was conceded that whatever element or faction could secure the favor and win the support of the colored vote would be the dominant and controlling one in the State. It is true that between 1868 and 1872, when the great majority of Southern whites maintained a policy of "masterly inactivity," the colored voters were obliged to utilize such material among the whites as was available; but it is a well-known fact that much of the material thus utilized was from necessity and not from choice, and that whenever and wherever an acceptable and reputable white man would place himself in a position where his services could be utilized he was gladly taken up and loyally supported by the colored voters.

After 1872 the necessity for supporting undesirable material no longer existed; and colored voters had the opportunity not only of supporting Southern whites for all the important positions in the State, but also of selecting the best and most desirable among them. Whether the poor whites or the aristocrats of former days were to be placed in control of the affairs of the State was a question which the colored voters alone could settle and determine. That the colored man's preference should be the aristocrat of the past was perfectly natural, since the relations between them had been friendly, cordial and amicable even during the days of slavery. Between the blacks and the poor whites the feeling had been just the other way; which was due not so much to race antipathy as to jealousy and envy on the part of the poor whites, growing out of the cordial and friendly relations between the aristocrats and their slaves; and because the slaves were, in a large measure, their competitors in the industrial market. When the partiality of the colored man for the former aristocrats became generally known, they—the former aristocrats,—began to come into the Republican party in large numbers. In Mississippi they were led by such men as Alcorn, in Georgia by Longstreet, in Virginia by Moseby, and also had as leaders such ex-governors as Orr, of South Carolina; Brown, of Georgia, and Parsons, of Alabama.

Between 1872 and 1875 the accessions to the Republican ranks were so large that it is safe to assert that from twenty-five to thirty per cent of the white men of the Southern States were identified with the Republican party; and those who thus acted were among the best and most substantial men of that section. Among that number in the State of Mississippi was J.L. Alcorn, J.A. Orr, J.B. Deason, R.W. Flournoy, and Orlando Davis. In addition to these there were thousands of others, many of them among the most prominent men of the State. Among the number was Judge Hiram Cassidy, who was the candidate of the Democratic party for Congress from the Sixth District in 1872, running against the writer of these lines. He was one of the most brilliant and successful members of the bar in southern Mississippi. Captain Thomas W. Hunt, of Jefferson County, was a member of one of the oldest, best, and most influential families of the South. The family connections were not, however, confined to the South; George Hunt Pendelton of Ohio, for instance, who was the Democratic candidate for Vice-President of the United States on the ticket with McClellan, in 1864, and who was later one of the United States Senators from Ohio, was a member of the same family.

While the colored men held the key to the situation, the white men knew that the colored men had no desire to rule or dominate even the Republican party. All the colored men wanted and demanded was a voice in the government under which they lived, and to the support of which they contributed, and to have a small, but fair, and reasonable proportion of the positions that were at the disposal of the voters of the State and of the administration.

While the colored men did not look with favor upon a political alliance with the poor whites, it must be admitted that, with very few exceptions, that class of whites did not seek, and did not seem to desire such an alliance. For this there were several well-defined reasons.

In the first place, while the primary object of importing slaves into that section was to secure labor for the cultivation of cotton, the slave was soon found to be an apt pupil in other lines of industry. In addition to having his immense cotton plantations cultivated by slave labor, the slave-owner soon learned that he could utilize these slaves as carpenters, painters, plasterers, bricklayers, blacksmiths and in all other fields of industrial occupations and usefulness. Thus the whites who depended upon their labor for a living along those lines had their field of opportunity very much curtailed. Although the slaves were not responsible for this condition, the fact that they were there and were thus utilized, created a feeling of bitterness and antipathy on the part of the laboring whites which could not be easily wiped out.

In the second place, the whites of that class were not at that time as ambitious, politically, as were the aristocrats. They had been held in political subjection so long that it required some time for them to realize that there had been a change. At that time they, with a few exceptions, were less efficient, less capable, and knew less about matters of state and governmental administration than many of the ex-slaves. It was a rare thing, therefore, to find one of that class at that time that had any political ambition or manifested any desire for political distinction or official recognition. As a rule, therefore, the whites that came into the leadership of the Republican party between 1872 and 1875 were representatives of the most substantial families of the land.



CHAPTER XI

RISE OF DEMOCRATIC RADICALISM IN THE SOUTH

After the Presidential election of 1872 no one could be found who questioned the wisdom or practicability of the Congressional Plan of Reconstruction, or who looked for its overthrow, change or modification. After that election the situation was accepted by everyone in perfect good faith. No one could be found in any party or either race who was bold enough to express the opinion that the Congressional Plan of Reconstruction was a mistake, or that negro suffrage was a failure. To the contrary it was admitted by all that the wisdom of both had been fully tested and clearly vindicated. It will not be denied even now by those who will take the time to make a careful examination of the situation, that no other plan could have been devised or adopted that could have saved to the country the fruits of the victory that had been won on the field of battle. The adoption of any other plan would have resulted in the accomplishment of nothing but the mere physical abolition of slavery and a denial of the right of a State to withdraw from the Union. These would have been mere abstract propositions, with no authority vested in the National Government for their enforcement. The war for the Union would have been practically a failure. The South would have gained and secured substantially everything for which it contended except the establishment of an independent government. The black man, therefore, was the savior of his country, not only on the field of battle, but after the smoke of battle had cleared away.

Notwithstanding the general acceptance of this plan after the Presidential election of 1872, we find that in the fall of 1874 there was a complete and radical change in the situation,—a change both sudden and unexpected. It came, as it were, in the twinkling of an eye. It was like a clap of thunder from a clear sky. It was the State and Congressional elections of that year.

In the elections of 1872 nearly every State in the Union went Republican. In the State and Congressional elections of 1874 the result was the reverse of what it was two years before,—nearly every State going Democratic. Democrats were surprised, Republicans were dumbfounded. Such a result had not been anticipated by anyone. Even the State of Massachusetts, the birthplace of abolitionism, the cradle of American liberty, elected a Democratic Governor. The Democrats had a majority in the National House of Representatives that was about equal to that which the Republicans had elected two years before. Such veteran Republican leaders in the United States Senate as Chandler, of Michigan, Windom, of Minnesota, and Carpenter, of Wisconsin, were retired from the Senate. When the returns were all in it was developed that the Democrats did not have a clear majority on joint ballot in the Michigan Legislature, but the margin between the two parties was so close that a few men who had been elected as independent Republicans had the balance of power. These Independents were opposed to the reelection of Senator Chandler. That the Democrats should be anxious for the retirement of such an able, active, aggressive, and influential Republican leader as Chandler was to be expected. That party, therefore, joined with the Independents in the vote for Senator which resulted in the election of a harmless old gentleman by the name of Christiancy. The Michigan situation was found to exist also in Minnesota, and the result was the retirement of that strong and able leader, Senator William Windom, and the election of a new and unknown man, McMillan.

What was true of Michigan and Minnesota was also found to be true of Wisconsin. The same sort of combination was made, which resulted in the retirement of the able and brilliant Matt Carpenter, and the election of a new man, Cameron, who was not then known outside of the boundaries of his State. Cameron proved to be an able man, a useful Senator, a good Republican and an improvement, in some respects, upon his predecessor; but his election was a defeat of the Republican organization in his State, which, of course, was the objective point with the Democrats.

It was the State and Congressional elections of 1874 that proved to be the death of the Republican party at the South. The party in that section might have survived even such a crushing blow as this, but for subsequent unfortunate events to which allusion has been made in a previous chapter, and which will be touched upon in some that are to follow. But, under these conditions, its survival was impossible. If the State and Congressional elections of 1874 had been a repetition of those of 1872 or if they had resulted in a Republican victory, Republican success in the Presidential election of 1876 would have been a reasonably assured fact. By that time the party at the South would have included in its membership from forty to fifty per cent of the white men of their respective States and as a result thereof it would have been strong enough to stand on its own feet and maintain its own independent existence, regardless of reverses which the parent organization might have sustained in other sections. But at that time the party in that section was in its infancy. It was young, weak, and comparatively helpless. It still needed the fostering care and the protecting hand of the paternal source of its existence.

When the smoke of the political battle that was fought in the early part of November, 1874, had cleared away, it was found that this strong, vigorous and healthy parent had been carried from the battle-field seriously wounded and unable to administer to the wants of its Southern offspring. The offspring was not strong enough to stand alone. The result was that its demise soon followed because it had been deprived of that nourishment, that sustenance and that support which were essential to its existence and which could come only from the parent which had been seriously if not fatally wounded upon the field of battle. After the Presidential election of 1872 Southern white men were not only coming into the Republican party in large numbers, but the liberal and progressive element of the Democracy was in the ascendency in that organization. That element, therefore, shaped the policy and declared the principles for which that organization stood. This meant the acceptance by all political parties of what was regarded as the settled policy of the National Government. In proof of this assertion a quotation from a political editorial which appeared about that time in the Jackson, Mississippi, Clarion,—the organ of the Democratic party,—will not be out of place. In speaking of the colored people and their attitude towards the whites, that able and influential paper said:

"While they [the colored people] have been naturally tenacious of their newly-acquired privileges, their general conduct will bear them witness that they have shown consideration for the feelings of the whites. The race line in politics would never have been drawn if opposition had not been made to their enjoyment of equal privileges in the government and under the laws after they were emancipated."

In other words, the colored people had manifested no disposition to rule or dominate the whites, and the only color line which had existed grew out of the unwise policy which had previously been pursued by the Democratic party in its efforts to prevent the enjoyment by the newly-emancipated race of the rights and privileges to which they were entitled under the Constitution and laws of the country. But after the State and Congressional elections of 1874 the situation was materially changed. The liberal and conservative element of the Democracy was relegated to the rear and the radical element came to the front and assumed charge.

Subsequent to 1872 and prior to 1875 race proscription and social ostracism had been completely abandoned. A Southern white man could become a Republican without being socially ostracized. Such a man was no longer looked upon as a traitor to his people, or false to his race. He no longer forfeited the respect, confidence, good-will, and favorable opinion of his friends and neighbors. Bulldozing, criminal assaults and lynchings were seldom heard of. To the contrary, cordial, friendly and amicable relations between all classes, all parties, and both races prevailed everywhere. Fraud, violence, and intimidation at elections were neither suspected nor charged by anyone, for everyone knew that no occasion existed for such things. But after the State and Congressional elections of 1874 there was a complete change of front. The new order of things was then set aside and the abandoned methods of a few years back were revived and readopted.

It is no doubt true that very few men at the North who voted the Republican ticket in 1872 and the Democratic ticket in 1874 were influenced in changing their votes by anything connected with Reconstruction. There were other questions at issue, no doubt, that influenced their action. There had been in 1873, for instance, a disastrous financial panic. Then there were other things connected with the National Administration which met with popular disfavor. These were the reasons, no doubt, that influenced thousands of Republicans to vote the Democratic ticket merely as an indication of their dissatisfaction with the National Administration.

But, let their motives and reasons be what they may, the effect was the same as if they had intended their votes to be accepted and construed as an endorsement of the platform declarations of the National Democratic Convention of 1868, at least so far as Reconstruction was concerned. Democrats claimed, and Republicans could not deny, that so far as the South was concerned this was the effect of the Congressional elections of 1874. Desertions from the Republican ranks at the South, in consequence thereof, became more rapid than had been the accessions between 1872 and 1875. Thousands who had not taken an open stand, but who were suspected of being inclined to the Republican party, denied that there had ever been any justifiable grounds for such suspicions. Many who had taken an open stand on that side returned to the fold of the Democracy in sackcloth and ashes,—upon bended knees, pleading for mercy, forgiveness and for charitable forbearance. They had seen a new light; and they were ready to confess that they had made a grave mistake, but, since their motives were good and their intentions were honest, they hoped that they would not be rashly treated nor harshly judged.

The prospects for the gratification and realization of the ambition of white men in that section had been completely reversed. The conviction became a settled fact that the Democratic party was the only channel through which it would be possible in the future for anyone to secure political distinction or receive official recognition,—hence the return to the ranks of that party of thousands of white men who had left it. All of them were eventually received, though some were kept on the anxious seat and held as probationers for a long time.

It soon developed that all that was left of the once promising and flourishing Republican party at the South was the true, faithful, loyal, and sincere colored men,—who remained Republican from necessity as well as from choice,—and a few white men, who were Republicans from principle and conviction, and who were willing to incur the odium, run the risks, take the chances, and pay the penalty that every white Republican who had the courage of his convictions must then pay. This was a sad and serious disappointment to the colored men who were just about to realize the hope and expectation of a permanent political combination and union between themselves and the better element of the whites, which would have resulted in good, honest, capable, and efficient local government and in the establishment and maintenance of peace, good-will, friendly, cordial, and amicable relations between the two races. But this hope, politically at least, had now been destroyed, and these expectations had been shattered and scattered to the four winds. The outlook for the colored man was dark and anything but encouraging. Many of the parting scenes that took place between the colored men and the whites who decided to return to the fold of the Democracy were both affecting and pathetic in the extreme.

The writer cannot resist the temptation to bring to the notice of the reader one of those scenes of which he had personal knowledge. Colonel James Lusk had been a prominent, conspicuous and influential representative of the Southern aristocracy of ante-bellum days. He enjoyed the respect and confidence of the community in which he lived,—especially of the colored people. He, like thousands of others of his class, had identified himself with the Republican party. There was in that community a Republican club of which Sam Henry, a well-known colored man, was president. When it was rumored,—and before it could be verified,—that Colonel Lusk had decided to cast his fortunes with the Republican party Henry appointed a committee of three to call on him and extend to him a cordial invitation to appear before the club at its next meeting and deliver an address. The invitation was accepted. As soon as the Colonel entered the door of the club, escorted by the committee, every man in the house immediately arose and all joined in giving three cheers and a hearty welcome to the gallant statesman and brave ex-Confederate soldier who had honored them with his distinguished presence on that occasion. He delivered a splendid speech, in which he informed his hearers that he had decided to cast his lot with the Republican party. It was the first public announcement of that fact that had been made. Of course he was honored, idolized and lionized by the colored people wherever he was known.

After the Congressional elections of 1874 Colonel Lusk decided that he would return to the ranks of the Democracy. Before making public announcement of that fact he decided to send for his faithful and loyal friend, Sam Henry, to come to see him at his residence, as he had something of importance to communicate to him. Promptly at the appointed time Henry made his appearance. He did not know for what he was wanted, but he had a well-founded suspicion, based upon the changed conditions which were apparent in every direction; hence, apprehension could be easily detected in his countenance. Colonel Lusk commenced by reminding Henry of the fact that it was before the club of which he was president and upon his invitation that he, Lusk, had made public announcement of his intention to act in the future with the Republican party. Now that he had decided to renounce any further allegiance to that party he thought that his faithful friend and loyal supporter, Sam Henry, should be the first to whom that announcement should be made. When he had finished Henry was visibly affected.

"Oh! no, Colonel," he cried, breaking down completely, "I beg of you do not leave us. You are our chief, if not sole dependence. You are our Moses. If you leave us, hundreds of others in our immediate neighborhood will be sure to follow your lead. We will thus be left without solid and substantial friends. I admit that with you party affiliation is optional. With me it is not. You can be either a Republican or a Democrat, and be honored and supported by the party to which you may belong. With me it is different. I must remain a Republican whether I want to or not. While it is impossible for me to be a Democrat it is not impossible for you to be a Republican. We need you. We need your prestige, your power, your influence, and your name. I pray you, therefore, not to leave us; for if you and those who will follow your lead leave us now we will be made to feel that we are without a country, without a home, without friends, and without a hope for the future. Oh, no, Colonel, I beg of you, I plead with you, don't go! Stay with us; lead and guide us, as you have so faithfully done during the last few years!"

Henry's remarks made a deep and profound impression upon Colonel Lusk. He informed Henry that no step he could take was more painful to him than this. He assured Henry that this act on his part was from necessity and not from choice.

"The statement you have made, Henry, that party affiliations with me is optional," he answered, "is presumed to be true; but, in point of fact, it is not. No white man can live in the South in the future and act with any other than the Democratic party unless he is willing and prepared to live a life of social isolation and remain in political oblivion. While I am somewhat advanced in years, I am not so old as to be devoid of political ambition. Besides I have two grown sons. There is, no doubt, a bright, brilliant and successful future before them if they are Democrats; otherwise, not. If I remain in the Republican party,—which can hereafter exist at the South only in name,—I will thereby retard, if not mar and possibly destroy, their future prospects. Then, you must remember that a man's first duty is to his family. My daughters are the pride of my home. I cannot afford to have them suffer the humiliating consequences of the social ostracism to which they may be subjected if I remain in the Republican party.

"The die is cast. I must yield to the inevitable and surrender my convictions upon the altar of my family's good,—the outgrowth of circumstances and conditions which I am powerless to prevent and cannot control. Henceforth I must act with the Democratic party or make myself a martyr; and I do not feel that there is enough at stake to justify me in making such a fearful sacrifice as that. It is, therefore, with deep sorrow and sincere regret, Henry, that I am constrained to leave you politically, but I find that I am confronted with a condition, not a theory. I am compelled to choose between you, on one side, and my family and personal interests, on the other. That I have decided to sacrifice you and yours upon the altar of my family's good is a decision for which you should neither blame nor censure me. If I could see my way clear to pursue a different course it would be done; but my decision is based upon careful and thoughtful consideration and it must stand."

Of course a stubborn and bitter fight for control of the Democratic organization was now on between the antagonistic and conflicting elements among the whites. It was to be a desperate struggle between the former aristocrats, on one side, and what was known as the "poor whites," on the other. While the aristocrats had always been the weaker in point of numbers, they had been the stronger in point of wealth, intelligence, ability, skill and experience. As a result of their wide experience, and able and skillful management, the aristocrats were successful in the preliminary struggles, as illustrated in the persons of Stephens, Gordon, Brown and Hill, of Georgia; Daniels and Lee, of Virginia; Hampton and Butler, of South Carolina; Lamar and Walthall, of Mississippi, and Garland, of Arkansas. But in the course of time and in the natural order of things the poor whites were bound to win. All that was needed was a few years' tutelage and a few daring and unscrupulous leaders to prey upon their ignorance and magnify their vanity in order to bring them to a realization of the fact that their former political masters were now completely at their mercy, and subject to their will.

That the poor whites of the ante-bellum period in most of the late slaveholding or reconstructed States are now the masters of the political situation in those States, is a fact that will not be questioned, disputed or denied by anyone who is well informed, or who is familiar with the facts. The aristocrats of ante-bellum days and their descendants in the old slave States are as completely under the political control and domination of the poor whites of the ante-bellum period as those whites were under them at that time. Yet the reader must not assume that the election returns from such States indicate the actual, or even the relative, strength of the opposing and antagonistic elements and factions. They simply indicate that the poor whites of the past and their descendants are now the masters and the leaders, and that the masters and the leaders of the past are now the submissive followers.

In the ranks of those who are now the recognized leaders is to be found some of the very best blood of the land,—the descendants of the finest, best, most cultivated, and most refined families of their respective States. But as a rule they are there, not from choice, but from necessity,—not because they are in harmony with what is being done, or because they approve of the methods that are being employed and pursued, but on account of circumstances and conditions which they can neither control nor prevent. They would not hesitate to raise the arm of revolt if they had any hope, or if they believed that ultimate success would be the result thereof. But as matters now stand they can detect no ray of hope, and can see no avenue of escape. Hence nothing remains for them to do but to hold the chain of political oppression and subjugation, while their former political subordinates rivet and fasten the same around their unwilling necks. They find they can do nothing but sacrifice their pride, their manhood, and their self-respect upon the altar of political necessity. They see, they feel, they fully realize the hopelessness of their condition and the helplessness of their situation. They see, they know, they acknowledge that in the line of political distinction and official recognition they can get nothing that their former political subordinates are not willing for them to have. With a hope of getting a few crumbs that may fall from the official table they make wry faces and pretend to be satisfied with what is being done, and with the way in which it is done. They are looked upon with suspicion and their loyalty to the new order of things is a constant source of speculation, conjecture, and doubt. But, for reasons of political expediency, a few crumbs are allowed occasionally to go to some one of that class,—crumbs that are gratefully acknowledged and thankfully received, upon the theory that some little consideration is better than none at all, especially in their present helpless and dependent condition. But even these small crumbs are confined to those who are most pronounced and outspoken in their declarations and protestations of loyalty, devotion, and subservient submission to the new order of things.



CHAPTER XII

EVENTFUL DAYS OF THE FORTY-THIRD CONGRESS

The Mississippi Constitution having been ratified in 1869,—an odd year of the calendar,—caused the regular elections for State, district and county officers to occur on the odd year of the calendar, while the National elections occurred on the even years of the calendar, thus necessitating the holding of an election in the State every year. Therefore, no election was to be held in 1874, except for Congressmen, and to fill a few vacancies, while the regular election for county officers and members of the Legislature would be held in 1875.

Since the regular session of the 44th Congress would not convene before December, 1875, in order to avoid the trouble and expense incident to holding an election in 1874, the Legislature passed a bill postponing the election of members of Congress until November, 1875. There being some doubt about the legality of this legislation, Congress passed a bill legalizing the act of the Legislature. Consequently no election was held in the State in 1874 except to fill a few vacancies that had occurred in the Legislature and in some of the districts and counties.

One of the vacancies to be filled was that of State Senator, created by the resignation of Senator Hiram Cassidy, Jr. Senator Cassidy, who was elected as a Democrat in 1873, and who had voted for Mr. Bruce, the Republican caucus nominee, for United States Senator, had in the mean time publicly identified himself with the Republican party, thus following in the footsteps of his able and illustrious father, Judge Hiram Cassidy, Sr., who had given his active support to the Republican candidate for Governor in 1873.

Governor Ames had appointed Senator Cassidy a Judge of the Chancery Court, to accept which office it was necessary for him to resign his seat as a member of the State Senate. A special election was held in November, 1874, to fill that vacancy. The Democrats nominated a strong and able man, Judge R.H. Thompson, of Brookhaven, Lincoln County. The Republicans nominated a still stronger and abler man, Hon. J.F. Sessions, of the same town and county,—a Democrat who had represented Franklin County for several terms, but who had that year identified himself with the Republican party. Sessions was Chancellor Cassidy's law partner.

Since the counties comprising that senatorial district constituted a part of the district that I then represented in Congress, I took an active part in the support of the candidacy of Sessions. Although a Democrat, Hiram Cassidy, Jr., had been elected from that district in 1873, Sessions, a Republican, was elected by a handsome majority in 1874. A vacancy had also occurred in the Legislature from Franklin County, to fill which the Republicans nominated Hon. William P. Cassidy, brother of Chancellor Cassidy; but the Democratic majority in the county was too large for one even so popular as Wm. P. Cassidy to overcome; hence he was defeated by a small majority.

From a Republican point of view Mississippi, as was true of the other reconstructed States, up to 1875 was all that could be expected and desired and, no doubt, would have remained so for many years, but for the unexpected results of the State and Congressional elections of 1874. While it is true, as stated and explained in a previous chapter, that Grant carried nearly every state in the Union at the Presidential election in 1872, the State and Congressional elections throughout the country two years later went just the other way, and by majorities just as decisive as those given the Republicans two years before.

Notwithstanding the severe and crushing defeat sustained by the Republicans at that time, it was claimed by some, believed by others, and predicted by many that by the time the election for President in 1876 would roll around it would be found that the Republicans had regained substantially all they had lost in 1874; but these hopes, predictions, and expectations were not realized. The Presidential election of 1876 turned out to be so close and doubtful that neither party could claim a substantial victory. While it is true that Hayes, the Republican candidate for President, was finally declared elected according to the forms of law, yet the terms and conditions upon which he was allowed to be peaceably inaugurated were such as to complete the extinction and annihilation of the Republican party at the South. The price that the Hayes managers stipulated to pay,—and did pay,—for the peaceable inauguration of Hayes was that the South was to be turned over to the Democrats and that the administration was not to enforce the Constitution and the laws of the land in that section against the expressed will of the Democrats thereof. In other words, so far as the South was concerned, the Constitution was not to follow the flag.

In the 43rd Congress which was elected in 1872 and which would expire by limitation March 4, 1875, the Republicans had a large majority in both Houses. In the House of Representatives of the 44th Congress, which was elected in 1874, the Democratic majority was about as large as was the Republican majority in the House of the 43rd Congress. The Republicans still retained control of the Senate, but by a greatly reduced majority.

During the short session of the 43rd Congress, important legislation was contemplated by the Republican leaders. Alabama was one of the States which the Democrats were charged with having carried in 1874 by resorting to methods which were believed to be questionable and illegal. An investigation was ordered by the House. A committee was appointed to make the investigation, of which General Albright, of Pennsylvania, was chairman. This committee was authorized to report by bill or otherwise. After a thorough investigation, the chairman was directed, and instructed by the vote of every Republican member of the committee, which constituted a majority thereof, to report and recommend the passage of what was called the Federal Elections Bill. This bill was carefully drawn; following substantially the same lines as a previous temporary measure, under the provisions of which what was known as the Ku Klux Klan had been crushed out, and order had been restored in North Carolina.

It is safe to say that this bill would have passed both Houses and become a law, but for the unexpected opposition of Speaker Blaine. Mr. Blaine was not only opposed to the bill, but his opposition was so intense that he felt it his duty to leave the Speaker's chair and come on the floor for the purpose of leading the opposition to its passage. This, of course, was fatal to the passage of the measure. After a desperate struggle of a few days, in which the Speaker was found to be in opposition to a large majority of his party associates, and which revealed the fact that the party was hopelessly divided, the leaders in the House abandoned the effort to bring the measure to a vote.

Mr. Blame's motives in taking this unexpected position, in open opposition to the great majority of his party associates, has always been open to speculation and conjecture. His personal and political enemies charged that it was due to jealousy of President Grant. Mr. Blaine was a candidate for the Republican Presidential nomination the following year. It was a well-known fact that President Grant was not favorable to Mr. Blaine's nomination, but was in sympathy with the movement to have Senator Roscoe Conkling, of New York, Mr. Blaine's bitterest political enemy, nominated. Mr. Blaine was afraid, his enemies asserted, that, if the Federal Elections Bill,—under the provisions of which great additional power would have been conferred upon the President,—had become a law, that power would be used to defeat his nomination for the Presidency in 1876; hence his opposition to the Bill. But, whatever his motives were, his successful opposition to that measure no doubt resulted in his failure to realize the ambition of his life,—the Presidency of the United States. But for the stand he took on that occasion, he would probably have received sufficient support from Southern delegates in the National Convention to secure him the nomination, and, had he been nominated at that time, the probabilities are that he would have been elected. But his opposition to that bill practically solidified the Southern delegates in that convention against him, and as a result he was defeated for the nomination, although he was the choice of a majority of the Northern delegates.

Even when Blaine received the nomination in 1884 it was developed that it could not have happened had the Southern delegates been as solidly against him at that time as they were in 1876. But by 1884 the Southern Republicans had somewhat relented in their opposition to him, and, as a result thereof, he received sufficient support from that section to give him the nomination. But he was defeated at the polls because the South was solid against him,—a condition which was made possible by his own action in defeating the Federal Elections Bill in 1875. In consequence of his action in that matter he was severely criticised and censured by Republicans generally, and by Southern Republicans especially.

Although I was not favorable to his nomination for the Presidency at any time, my relations with Mr. Blaine had been so cordial that I felt at liberty to seek him and ask him, for my own satisfaction and information, an explanation of his action in opposing and defeating the Federal Elections Bill. I therefore went to him just before the final adjournment of the 43rd Congress and informed him that I desired to have a few minutes' private audience with him whenever it would be convenient for him to see me. He requested me to come to the Speaker's room immediately after the adjournment of the House that afternoon.

When I entered the room Mr. Blaine was alone. I took a seat only a few feet from him. I informed him of the great disappointment and intense dissatisfaction which his action had caused in defeating what was not only regarded as a party measure, but which was believed by the Republicans to be of vital importance from a party point of view, to say nothing of its equity and justice. I remarked that for him to array himself in opposition to the great majority of his own party associates,—and to throw the weight of his great influence against such an important party measure as the Federal Elections Bill was believed to be,—he must have had some motive, some justifiable grounds of which the public was ignorant, but about which I believed it was fair to himself and just to his own friends and party associates, that he give some explanation.

"As a southern Republican member of the House, and as one that is not hostile or particularly unfriendly to you," I said, "I feel that I have a right to make this request of you."

At first he gave me a look of surprise, and for several seconds he remained silent. Then, straightening himself up in his chair, he answered:

"I am glad, Mr. Lynch, that you have made this request of me, since I am satisfied you are not actuated by any unfriendly motive in doing so. I shall, therefore, give a frank answer to your question. In my judgment, if that bill had become a law the defeat of the Republican party throughout the country would have been a foregone conclusion. We could not have saved the South even if the bill had passed, but its passage would have lost us the North; indeed, I could not have carried even my own State of Maine, if that bill had passed. In my opinion, it was better to lose the South and save the North, than to try through such legislation to save the South, and thus lose both North and South. I believed that if we saved the North we could then look after the South. If the Southern Democrats are foolish enough to bring about a Solid South the result will be a Solid North against a Solid South; and in that case the Republicans would have nothing to fear. You now have my reasons, frankly and candidly given, for the action taken by me on the occasion referred to. I hope you are satisfied with them."

I thanked Mr. Blaine cordially for giving me the desired explanation. "I now feel better satisfied with reference to your action upon that occasion," I assured him. "While I do not agree with you in your conclusions, and while I believe your reasoning to be unsound and fallacious, still I cannot help giving you credit for having been actuated by no other motive than to do what you honestly believed was for the best interest of the country and the Republican party."



CHAPTER XIII

STATE CAMPAIGN OF 1875. REPUBLICAN VICTORY

When I returned to my home after the adjournment of Congress in March, 1875, the political clouds were dark. The political outlook was discouraging. The prospect of Republican success was not at all bright. There had been a marked change in the situation from every point of view. Democrats were bold, outspoken, defiant, and determined. In addition to these unfavorable indications I noticed that I was not received by them with the same warmth and cordiality as on previous occasions. With a few notable exceptions they were cold, indifferent, even forbidding in their attitude and manner. This treatment was so radically different from that to which I had been accustomed that I could not help feeling it keenly. I knew it was indicative of a change in the political situation which meant that I had before me the fight of my life.

My advocacy and support of the Federal Elections Bill, commonly called the "Force Bill," was occasionally given as the reason for this change; but I knew this was not the true reason. In fact, that bill would hardly have been thought of but for the fact that Mr. Blaine, the Republican Speaker of the House, had attracted national attention to it through his action in vacating the chair and coming on the floor of the House to lead the opposition to its passage. This act on the part of the statesman from Maine made him, in the opinion of many Southern Democrats, the greatest man that our country had ever produced,—George Washington, the Father of the Republic, not excepted. They were loud in their thanks for the valuable service he had thus rendered them and, as evidence of their gratitude to him, they declared their determination to show their appreciation of this valuable service in a substantial manner whenever the opportunity presented itself for it to be done.

No man in the country was stronger, better or more popular than the statesman from Maine, until his name came before them as a candidate for President of the United States on a Republican ticket. A sudden transformation then took place. It was then discovered, to their great surprise and disappointment, that he was such an unsafe and dangerous man that no greater calamity could happen to the country than his elevation to the Presidency. Nothing, therefore, must be left undone to bring about his defeat.

I was well aware of the fact at the time that it was the result of the State and Congressional elections at the north in 1874 that had convinced Southern Democrats that Republican ascendency in the National Government would soon be a thing of the past—that the Democrats would be successful in the Presidential and Congressional elections of 1876 and that that party would, no doubt, remain in power for at least a quarter of a century. It was this, and not the unsuccessful effort to pass a Federal Elections Bill, that had produced the marked change that was noticeable on every hand. Every indication seemed to point to a confirmation of the impression that Democratic success at the Presidential election was practically an assured fact.