Lexington's black community was more advanced socially, economically, and politically than African Americans elsewhere in the South, due to the number of free blacks who were educated, owned businesses, and were well connected to powerful white men who shared information with those they deemed exceptional or extraordinary. However, the right to vote became the most celebrated possession of black Lexingtonians in the early 1870s, as many white men became the embodiment of the devil himself, tormenting blacks without fear of repercussion or remorse.
“A Regular Reign of Terror”
The idea of Lexington as the site of a new revolution, with blacks as the protagonist, harks back to the beginning of the American Republic and the fight to be free from British rule. Not dissimilar to those colonists battling for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, African Americans in Lexington and throughout the South fought to claim their rights as human beings and to end injustice. More than anything else, blacks understood that freedom meant control of one's destiny. As a small boy growing up during these revolutionary times, Isaac Burns Murphy encountered and experienced these liberating forces both directly and indirectly. Lexington was the perfect place to prepare a young man to claim his share of the American franchise. Even so, Isaac would have been scarred by the dark forces attempting to crush his people's progress toward full citizenship and, in the process, inflict as much pain and wreckage as possible.
Throughout Lexington, African Americans were constantly reminded of the oppressive forces scheming against them. The Fifteenth Amendment to the Constitution, ratified in early 1870, stated that the “right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States, or by any State, on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” Unfortunately, this only accelerated the abuses inflicted on former slaves and their families. At the beginning of Reconstruction, former Confederate soldiers roamed the countryside in search of blacks to take out their “wrath at the Federal Government.”29 Most poor whites opposed efforts to elevate the Negro through legislative enforcement, educational advancement, and the political advocacy of white radical Republicans. In reality, they were intimidated by black competition for jobs, landownership, and political power. Furthermore, these whites recognized that once former slaves obtained positions of power, “poor white trash” might be seen as more “niggerly” than blacks. Major landowners, most of whom had farmed hemp and corn and bred horses prior to the Civil War, had lost tens of thousands of dollars in human chattel and had thousands of acres of farmland going unused, and now they feared being reduced to the social equal of the “inferior” race. All these feelings created opportunities for collusion among these various classes of angry white men.30 This unified front by the white majority created a response that would shape race relations in Kentucky in particular, and the South in general, for more than 150 years.
Rejecting every aspect of black freedom, “counter-Reconstruction organizations” formed parties of renegades, vigilantes, and regulators to instill fear in blacks and in those whites who tried to change the culture of Kentucky.31 Groups of white men wearing sheets or costumes with elaborate designs intended to intimidate and to arouse black superstitions roamed the countryside under the cloak of night. Before the Fifteenth Amendment provided for Negro testimony, they could do so with no fear that any blacks, male and female, would be able to identify them as the perpetrators of such crimes. Blacks in the rural parts of Fayette County were most vulnerable to attacks by the Ku Klux Klan and its “regular reign of terror.”32 Black farmers and their families, living in isolation in the countryside or in the small hamlets surrounding Lexington, were preyed on by bands of the Ku Klux Klan. Klan members served up whippings and then dragged their victims until the flesh was torn from their bodies. Outrages such as castration, rape, murder, and lynching were common in the 1870s, and the bodies of victims were often displayed as warnings to other independent-minded former slaves. Many of these acts of violence seemed to be spontaneous, directed at unsuspecting black farmhands, old women, ministers, disabled black men (including former soldiers), and hardworking individuals just trying to make a life for themselves and their families. Yet some of these outrages were clearly meant to make a statement about the political concerns of the day.
On the night of November 1, 1872, three members of the Hawkins family—Samuel Hawkins, a black man who had helped organize black voters for the Republican Party, his wife Mahalia, and his seventeen-year-old daughter Fanny—were taken from their home outside of Lexington, near the Jessamine County line, by members of the Ku Klux Klan.33 The next day, all three were found dead: they had been shot, drowned, and hanged from the limb of a tree suspended over a cliff near the Kentucky River.34 This horrendous execution of an entire family was but one example of the barbarism unleashed by whites on blacks who merely wanted to live as free men and women. Many of these outrages were, in fact, assassinations of black leaders, intended to remind black Kentuckians what might happen to them if they continued to press for their rights.
Clearly, these murders were the work of disgruntled white men who feared black power and were threatened by black manhood. Black men who educated themselves and their families, who were dedicated to achieving social and economic success, and who were committed to voting to defend the Republican agenda of granting all citizens equal rights and protection under the law, were a threat to white men suffering from the trauma of an exposed racial reality: The myth of white supremacy was breaking down, and that white men were no better than black men.35
Men like Henry King, Henry Scroggins, James Turner, Henry Britton, Ferdinand Robinson, and George Perry worked to establish order in the black community and negotiated with Lexington's most prominent white leaders for the advancement of blacks. These men also ensured the survival of their children by teaching them how to deflect the hatred of whites and turn it into the energy required to take advantage of opportunities, achieve their goals and dreams, and even flourish as professionals. Indeed, for Lexington's black community to succeed, it would have to find fertile ground in the hostile environment promoted by anti-Republican Democrats and antiblack white supremacists, of which there were plenty in both the city and the nearby countryside. The most fertile ground, in fact, was the soul.
The vision of the future created by these African American leaders motivated the swelling black population to get behind them. In the midst of dramatic social, political, and economic changes taking place in Lexington, the black community also suffered violence—lynching, murder, rape, and property damage—perpetrated by white men who loathed the reality of black suffrage and the development of an independent, self-reliant, confident black man. The political voice provided to blacks by the Republican Party, the in-migration of blacks from farms on the outskirts of the city, and black Lexingtonians' burgeoning awareness of their racial destiny led to an increased self-awareness and a sense of purpose for black youth. They believed that nothing was impossible for those who were hopeful and persistent, even as white hatred and violence toward blacks became more predictable and remained woefully unimpeded. All these changes and challenges would influence the character of black Lexingtonians and their future in the city for generations.
The Cruelty of Trust
On April 21, 1873, America Burns opened a savings account at the National Savings Bank and Trust Company (Freedmen's Bank) branch in Lexington. She became one of more than 1,000 local women, men, and children to deposit their hard-earned income in what they believed was a secure institution created to protect their money and thus their futures. Like so many others, America and her fellow depositors saved what little they had, hoping to keep their dreams of success and achievement alive. Each time these hardworking individuals made their way to the corner of Upper and Church Streets to place whatever sum they had accumulated into the hands of John G. Hamilton, the bank's cashier, they dreamed a little more. On the same day America opened her account, Spencer Talbott, a forty-nine-year-old la
borer and widower, deposited $6.25, and William Coleman, a thirteen-year-old schoolboy, deposited $0.35.36 Hamilton recorded each of these transactions in the branch's ledger book, as well as in the depositor's personal passbook. It is instructional to know that printed in each bankbook was a chart showing the amount of interest that could be generated for a “man [or woman] who saves ten cents a day every day for ten years.”37 In nineteenth-century dollars, the amount accumulated after ten years could have been used as a down payment on a farm or on a city lot with a new home or for a child's college tuition. To the farmers, wage laborers, washerwomen, cooks, draymen, brick masons, schoolchildren, and barbers patronizing the Freedmen's Bank, their bankbooks were symbols of their prosperity and aspirations.
The Freedmen's Bank ledger listed deposits ranging from a few cents to thousands of dollars. In total, the estimated holdings of the Lexington branch amounted to a little more than $25,000.38 Although the amount in America's account is not known, the fact that she put any money in the bank indicates that she was able to find and keep work, perhaps washing and cleaning for white families; her late husband's pension ($8 to $10 per month) would have supplemented those wages. Like others, America assumed that the bank was safe; its Washington, D.C., branch boasted assets of more than $6 million. The Freedmen's Bank also promised a return of 6 percent interest on all deposits. For America, this must have been a godsend. With her savings plus interest, and her ownership of a city lot worth $400 in 1873, she was beginning to reap the rewards of her hard work and determination.39 As far as America was concerned, she had established the foundation for a new life filled with possibilities for herself and her son.
Initially chartered by an act of Congress and authorized by President Abraham Lincoln, the National Savings Bank and Trust Company was established in the District of Columbia on March 3, 1865, its primary objective being to “receive on deposit for safe keeping and investment for their benefit, all sums that might be offered by ‘persons lately held in slavery’ from one dollar up.”40 To guarantee the success of the “simple mutual savings bank established for the benefit of black people,” the charter required that at least “two-thirds” of the bank's deposits be invested in U.S. Securities, including stocks, bonds, and Treasury notes.41 However, the National Savings Bank and Trust Company was not legally connected to the Federal government. Owned solely by the depositors, who were the investors, the bank was a philanthropic endeavor intended to support black people's transition from slaves to wage earners and to provide their descendants with examples of self-reliance and self-help by instilling the economic concepts of industry and thrift. A bankbook was like a badge of honor, a symbol that an individual had risen above his or her previous condition and become a respectable citizen.42 With the support of stalwarts such as Frederick Douglass and John Mercer Langston, trustees of the Washington, D.C., branch, and Congressman Robert Smalls and Major Martin Delany, trustees of the South Carolina branch, blacks were easily convinced of the prudence of saving their money in local branches, and they believed (mistakenly) that the Federal government was responsible for their investments. By 1872, the number of branches throughout the South had increased to thirty-four; there was also a branch in Philadelphia and one in New York.
On November 8, 1870, John G. Hamilton opened the Lexington branch of the Freedmen's Bank with the support of black and white community leaders.43 Hamilton was thus responsible for the black community's savings and, as superintendent of colored schools, the education of its children. Promoting industry and thrift as necessary to achieving the promises of freedom and citizenship in America, Hamilton, the bank's advisory board, and community leaders enthusiastically promoted the savings bank as the proper place for striving people to put their hard-earned money. Within this context, the Freedman's Bank provided both a catalyst for the development of black economic power and a progressive political discourse on participation in the American franchise.44
To attract depositors, Hamilton and advisory board members held public meetings at black churches, the Ladies Hall, and other venues where they could talk to the black community about saving, thrift, and sobriety as the pathway to citizenship in a capitalist society. To educate potential depositors about the moral benefits of investing their money in the Freedmen's Bank, Hamilton likely distributed pamphlets to his curious but cautious audiences related to the “sins against thrift.”45 At these meetings, Hamilton argued that it was each man's responsibility to “earn all he can honestly; to use it for the support of his family and for sending his children to school. All after that he should put by in some safe place where he will get interest on it.”46 Advertisements for the bank in the Kentucky Statesman claimed that it had deposits of “over sixteen million dollars” and that “any amount received” was eligible to have interest paid.47 Responding to Hamilton's benevolence and black leaders' call to support what they believed was a government-sponsored institution, black Lexingtonians deposited their money in the local branch, trusting that their nest eggs would grow into healthy birds they could live off of.48
By June 1873, the people's faith in the Freedmen's Bank was reflected in the total amounts deposited and withdrawn at the thirty-four branches over the seven years since its founding: deposits of $49,629,354.25 and withdrawals of $45,600,684.82, leaving a balance of $4,028,669.43.49 However, what seemed to be a well-organized, government-sponsored gesture in support of equal opportunity and self-reliance quickly became a profit-making enterprise for the less scrupulous American businessmen controlling the bank's financial decisions. To officials, it was obvious that this noble effort to elevate the black masses had become the victim of a lack of oversight and regulation. What is more, the country's economic downturn exposed the untrustworthiness of some of the bank's cashiers, charged with protecting the interests of their loyal investors. Poor accounting practices and substantiated rumors of unsecured loans to speculators that had been lost without explanation incited a run on the bank, depleting a majority of its capital.
Frederick Douglass, who took over as bank president in March 1874, tried to save it from sinking further into the abyss. Unfortunately, losses were too great, and once the Washington, D.C., branch failed, branches across the South, including the one in Lexington, were unable to pay back their investors. By June 28, the Lexington branch had closed its doors, leaving more than 61,000 depositors, including America, penniless and holding “worthless notes.”50 Sadly, most of these investors never recovered their losses; nor did they recover their faith in the promises of a government run by white men. For America Burns, however, there was no time to mourn the loss of her life savings. She had to come up with a plan to protect her son from the poverty that was sure to follow her financial misfortune. More problematic, she developed tuberculosis (consumption), and her life seemed to be slipping back into the shadows of obscurity.
An Excellent Student and a Promising Jockey
By the time of the bank's failure in 1874, thirteen-year-old Isaac had been attending school for some time. But sometime that year, America decided to apprentice her son to horse breeder James T. Williams, the business partner of Richard Owings, for whom she washed and cleaned. This decision may have been a response to the loss of her savings, and it is possible that otherwise, Isaac would have been able to stay in school. In the days and weeks leading up to her decision to let Isaac go, America no doubt consulted with her father, Green Murphy, and with family friend Eli Jordan. She must have turned the decision over in her mind a thousand times or more, seeking a better solution. What is more, she had become very sick and was in desperate need of financial assistance and medical care. Of all the reasons why Isaac became a jockey, the final factor may have been his mother's poor health and her desire to give him some security before she died. America wanted to save her son from an unknown and destitute existence. These circumstances led to Isaac's discovery of his ability to pilot 1,200 pounds of horseflesh capable of running thirty-five miles per hour.
During an 1885 interview,
James T. Williams recalled the day America brought Isaac to him: “One day a colored woman called upon me with the request that I employ her boy to exercise my horses,” Williams explained. “The woman was a consumptive, and stated she believed her life might be prolonged if her son was employed.”51 Still, America must have had reservations about exposing her son to the seamy side of horse racing: gambling, drinking, and carousing in the red-light districts. At the root of her decision was the understanding that Isaac would soon have to face the world on his own, and he would need some sort of skill if he was going to survive and be successful.
America's resourcefulness led her to use her connections to her employer Richard Owings and her friend Eli Jordan, who worked as a trainer for the Williams and Owings stable. On the advice of Jordan, America likely approached Owings directly about any apprenticeship opportunities for her child.52 Even at thirteen, Isaac was a small and sensitive boy who was very close to his mother. In securing her son's position as an apprentice, America clearly had three goals: to protect Isaac from being orphaned and left to negotiate the temptations of the city alone; to provide him with useful skills that could secure him a modest income in the future, while maintaining his virtuous upbringing; and to obtain a small income to offset her living expenses and perhaps delay her death.
James T. Williams and Richard Owings maintained a space at the old Kentucky Association Race Course in Lexington, the oldest racing club in the state. Like most turfmen of the mid- to late 1870s, Williams and Owings were always looking to improve their stock of Thoroughbreds, as well as employ quality riders.53 In fact, by the 1880s, the region surrounding Lexington was called a “breeder's paradise” for its green pastures, its high-quality horseflesh available for sale, and its talented jockeys.54 Like a majority of turfmen in the South, Williams and Owings used African American boys and men as their main source of labor—grooms, trainers, exercise boys, and jockeys. African Americans were integral to the development of the horse-racing industry, and they knew how to succeed. Although there were white jockeys and white stable boys, African Americans predominated on the dozen or more major horse farms in the six counties surrounding Lexington. In the beginning, they had ridden side by side with a small number of great white riders, but as African Americans became more successful at competing among themselves and with their white counterparts, the sport changed to fit the converging social, political, and economic circumstances.55
The Prince of Jockeys Page 19
