The Chinese Must Go

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by Beth Lew-Williams


  teousness to her cause. Although it was the anti- Chinese movement that

  made Kenworthy rise to the public stage, her goals went beyond the expul-

  sion of the Chinese. She paired her denouncement of the Chinese alien with

  a plea for the full rights of citizenship for white women.57

  Through their participation in the anti- Chinese movement, agitators like

  Montgomery and Kenworthy brandished their credentials as white men and

  women, free workingmen and their wives, patriarchs and mothers, comrades

  and suffragists— and, above all, citizens and aspiring citizens. Implicit in

  their rhe toric was the assumption that Chinese aliens could never claim these

  forms of status and belonging.

  “A Cry of Distress”

  The vigilantes may have acted on a local level, but they dreamed of change

  on a national scale. As they worked to establish color lines in their own

  communities, they envisioned a racial boundary at the nation’s borders as

  well. For de cades, the anti- Chinese movement had fought for Chinese ex-

  clusion, but electoral politics did not seem to be working. Despite having

  far more po liti cal, economic, and social power than their Chinese foes,

  anti- Chinese agitators held limited sway over federal policy. This was espe-

  cially true of American citizens in the U.S. territories of Washington and

  Wyoming, who were unable to vote in national elections, elect their own

  governor, or send delegates to Congress. Lacking more traditional forms of

  influence, they discovered, in part by happenstance, that racial vio lence held

  a par tic u lar form of po liti cal power. Through terrorizing the Chinese in

  their own backyards, the vigilantes broadcast their demands for Chinese

  exclusion across the nation.58 Through regional meetings and petition

  campaigns, the vigilantes made their scale- jumping ambitions clear to all.

  The movement was, for the most part, loose and disor ga nized, but at times

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  a subset of anti- Chinese advocates met to coordinate and regulate the cam-

  paign. While these delegates did not create a unified movement, they did

  refashion the local anti- Chinese vio lence into a clear po liti cal message aimed

  at Washington, D.C.

  In February 1886, an anti- Chinese convention in San Jose, California,

  sent a letter signed by three thousand citizens urging Congress to abrogate

  the Burlingame Treaty of 1868 and pass laws that would prevent all future

  Chinese migration. A month later, five thousand anti- Chinese delegates from

  all classes of society gathered in Sacramento to draft a more radical letter to

  Congress. Unlike the previous petition, which stated that Chinese already

  in possession of certificates should be allowed to return, this convention de-

  manded that Congress “take immediate steps to prohibit absolutely this

  Chinese invasion.”59 The letter included a lengthy justification for total ex-

  clusion. Under a section titled “Necessity for Re sis tance,” delegates warned

  that the existence of Chinese on the coast kept the white worker “in a per-

  petual state of anger, exasperation, and discontent always bordering on se-

  dition, thus jeopardizing the general peace and creating a state of chronic

  uneasiness, distrust, and apprehension throughout the entire community.”

  The petitioners’ language left Congress little room for doubt about what

  might arise from this state of “anger, exasperation, and discontent.” With

  oblique references to the now rampant expulsions, the petitioners reminded

  Congress that this “uneasiness” would alarm investors and slow the devel-

  opment of the U.S. West. The Chinese, and the vio lence they inspired,

  threatened white workers and white employers alike.60

  The delegates understood that exclusion could not be obtained without

  abrogating Amer i ca’s treaties with China and they urged Congress to do

  just that. The Burlingame Treaty, alleged the letter, made a tragic mistake

  by giving up “a sovereign attribute never before surrendered by any free

  people,” that is, the right to determine who could enter the nation. Quoting

  Emmerich de Vattel, the renowned eighteenth- century phi los o pher and

  diplomat, the petitioners argued that international law gave every nation

  the sovereign right to forbid entrance to its territory. Local vigilantes could

  only drive Chinese from their towns, but they urged the federal government

  to end the Chinese menace for good.

  The California Knights of Labor echoed this plea, asking the federal gov-

  ernment to prohibit all further Chinese migration through either legisla-

  THE PEOPLE

  135

  tion or treaty. They gathered fifty thousand signatures in support of their

  petition, including those of California’s governor and prominent judges,

  mayors, city supervisors, and sheriffs. Some eastern branches of the Knights

  took up their brethren’s cause. Throwing their support entirely behind the

  vigilantes, the Indiana Knights responded to “a cry of distress from our

  brothers of the Pacific Coast” by chastising the president for protecting the

  Chinese instead of the white workingmen. The real crime, they implied, was

  the government’s “neglect” of these American citizens, which “robbed [them]

  of their rights and privileges.” In order to “save unnecessary bloodshed,” the

  Knights of Indiana believed that all Chinese migration must “be forbidden

  under the penalty of law.” 61

  Some petitions believed that these veiled threats of vio lence were ill-

  advised. At the convention in Sacramento, Mr. McElrath of Alameda

  County argued against the use of boycott and the petition to Congress.

  Facing an angry crowd, he declared that the talk of unrest was “impolitic.”

  “If the proceedings of this Convention create an impression in the East that

  we are riotous out here,” he argued, “it will do our cause great harm in Con-

  gress.” However, his was the minority opinion.

  Others believed that boycott and vio lence were necessary, because “the

  law- makers must be made to keenly feel our demands.” The Daily Alta Cali-

  fornia, using graphic language, described the convention as a warning to

  Congress that should not be ignored. “The State is diseased by the presence

  of the Chinese,” wrote the paper, “and the Convention was the throbbing

  boil thrown up as a warning.” If delegates’ anger was a boil, then the only

  remedy was for “Congress to prick it, for the State suffers and will suffer

  more from metastasis if action is not promptly had.” Immediate congres-

  sional action was required to “prevent the vio lence that will come.” 62

  Vigilantes intended their local actions to affect the national stage, but they

  also knew there could be international repercussions. Many agitators under-

  stood that the expulsion violated U.S. treaties with China, but they argued

  that “they were acting in obedience to a higher law . . . that of self- preservation

  and the maintenance of purity, the integrity, the welfare and the institutions

  of their nation and race.” 63 In their view, the needs of white Americans

  trumped dreams of overseas expansion.


  Congress heard the po liti cal message behind this racial vio lence. Even amid

  nationwide labor unrest in the spring of 1886, the eruption of anti- Chinese

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  expulsions in the U.S. West commanded federal attention.64 In May, Senator

  John H. Mitchell of Oregon declared that the Restriction Act was “abso-

  lutely dead letter upon the statute- books, a sublime pretense, a stupid make-

  believe, a legislative delusion and a snare.” Quoting dire reports of contagious

  vio lence in West Coast papers, he urged the Senate to immediately enact

  “absolute prohibition” of Chinese migration for “the preservation of do-

  mestic peace.” Representative William Morrow of California read aloud to

  the House from the vigilantes’ petitions, arguing that “this power ful and

  urgent appeal should arrest the attention of Congress.” “The people of Cali-

  fornia,” he proclaimed, “are past further endurance.” In veiled reference to

  the expulsions, Morrow explained that the petitioners had tried “ every ap-

  parently effective form of expression and declaration” to make their demands

  for Chinese exclusion “known to Congress.” Representative Samuel Cox of

  New York stated the situation more plainly. It was clear to him that the

  “manifold evasions of the [Restriction] law” have “precipitat[ed] the disas-

  trous conflicts and bloodshed which have recently been witnessed in the Ter-

  ritories of the far West.” 65

  Willard B. Farwell, a supervisor in San Francisco, offered a stark assess-

  ment of the choice before Congress. “ These massacres— horrible as they are

  to contemplate, humiliating and shameful as they are to the American

  people— are by no means the most serious side of this phase of the Chinese

  question,” he wrote in a two hundred- page treatise. “They are but warnings,

  but mutterings of a danger that gathers like the thunder- clouds in the dis-

  tant horizon, soon to develop into the restless cyclone of destruction.” He

  predicted Amer ica would again be convulsed by revolution “if the govern-

  ment of the United States persists in refusing to put an end to the evil, and

  thus put an end to the possibility of outbreaks and massacres.” 66 Congress

  could end white vio lence by enacting Chinese exclusion, or it could expect

  a race war.

  5

  The Loyal

  WHEN VIO LENCE CAME to Seattle, Granville O. Haller’s first thought was

  of Jin, his Chinese cook. Early that morning in February 1886, Haller

  grabbed his pistol, peered through the win dows of his house, and prepared

  to resist any attempt by “the people” to “remove” Jin. Months previous, when

  he had been sworn in as deputy sheriff, he had pledged to protect the Chinese

  from any attempt to “burn their property or persecute them.”1 He did not

  take his oath lightly. But in the end, the mob spared Haller’s house and his

  servant, perhaps guessing his plan of re sis tance.

  Soon Haller received word that Mayor Henry Yesler had not been so lucky.

  By the time he “buckled on a revolver” and rushed to the mayor’s house to

  lend his assistance, however, the vigilantes had already come and gone. The

  only person who remained was the mayor’s wife, Sarah Yesler, who was still

  “much alarmed,” Haller noted in his diary. While her husband was out, seven

  vigilantes had invaded the house and demanded she relinquish her Chinese

  servants. Watching the woman weep, Haller deci ded “it was time to check

  such insolence.” He headed to his son’s law offices to rendezvous with the

  governor, the mayor, the sheriff, and the leaders of the local militia. With

  certainty drawn from his military career, Col o nel Haller declared that “the

  loyal” were outnumbered by the mob and needed to call for federal troops

  immediately.2

  When he deci ded to brandish a pistol against white workingmen to pro-

  tect his Chinese cook, Haller seemed to be violating the ties of race. To him

  the decision was simple: he was fighting to protect himself, other elites of

  Washington Territory, and the supremacy of American law. As a successful

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  VIO LENCE

  businessman interested in defending his own par tic u lar form of racial privi-

  lege, he had little re spect for the unruly lower classes and their rough treat-

  ment of the Chinese. He complained that the anti- Chinese movement had

  attracted “ every socialist and anarchist who could walk or steal a ride to Se-

  attle.” Privately in his diary, Hal er cal ed the vigilantes “insolent” “bummers”

  of “the lowest ele ment,” and publicly he declared that labor unions could

  lead to “the most selfish of ends.”3

  It was not just the vigilantes’ lowly birth and radical politics that Haller

  disdained; it was also their methods. He scoffed at the claim that their tac-

  tics were “peaceful and law abiding,” arguing that there was no such thing

  as a legal expulsion under American law. He understood that the United

  States had pledged, through multiple diplomatic accords, to protect the life

  and liberty of Chinese nationals on American soil. To Haller, this made the

  expulsions illegal and the rioters disloyal. To hand over his Chinese cook

  would mean “show[ing] servile submission to a set of self- appointed Law-

  Breakers.” This he refused to do.4

  Many West Coast elites opposed the violent anti- Chinese movement, but

  the plight of the Chinese was not always at the forefront of their minds. They

  were more concerned with what the Chinese represented. Locally, the Chi-

  nese signified fuel for western development. For American investors who

  sought to tame the lands and peoples of the U.S. West, Chinese mi grants

  were the abundant, affordable, and compliant workforce of their dreams.

  They would fell forests, plant hops fields, catch salmon, keep house, and

  lay tracks toward faraway markets. The white man’s frontier could be built

  on the backs of Chinese mi grants.

  On a larger scale, Chinese mi grants represented the promise of U.S. im-

  perialism in Asia. Imagining a brilliant future for their nascent community,

  many white elites of Washington Territory looked west across the Pacific. If

  only the Pacific Northwest could become the conduit to China, then it would

  gain national significance and prestige. Importers would feed Amer i ca’s

  hunger for Chinese goods, exporters would capture an inexhaustible Chi-

  nese market, and missionaries would find ready converts. In this imperial

  ambition, Chinese mi grants, especially the upper classes, meant increased

  access to Chinese wealth and Chinese souls.

  THE LOYAL

  139

  For cosmopolitan white elites, the Chinese presence represented a continu-

  ation of the status quo. These men and women enjoyed their place at top of

  the po liti cal, economic, and social ladder, and they wanted more of the same.5

  Their success had been built, in part, thanks to Chinese workers, Chinese

  parishioners, and the China Trade, so they feared the end of Chinese migra-

  tion would undermine their continued ascent. The status quo they fought to

  preserve was domin
ated by conservative politics and conservative manners.

  They loathed the populist leanings of the anti- Chinese movement, its radical

  antimonopolist stance, and the “rough” men and women who filled its ranks.

  These conservative elites were far outnumbered by the workingmen, but their

  elevated class status gave them outsized power. As leaders of the territory, they

  had the backing of the federal government and its standing army in the U.S.

  West. On the eve of the anti- Chinese vio lence, these elites held a large stake

  in Chinese mi grants and the power to protect them.6

  Then vio lence changed what the Chinese represented to the elite. As ex-

  pulsions multiplied, the Chinese came to mean a widening class divide, a

  decline in profits, and a divided congregation. Where Chinese remained,

  there was sure to be labor unrest, economic instability, and white vio lence.

  Even as conservative elites in the U.S. West fought to suppress anti- Chinese

  vio lence, they began to rethink their stance on the Chinese Question. They

  called themselves “the loyal,” but it became increasingly unclear what that

  meant. Were they loyal to the Chinese workers or simply to the profit their

  work had produced? The stories of five white elites in Washington Territory—

  Governor Watson Squire, First Lady Ida Squire, businessman Alexander S.

  Farquharson, Rev. W. D. McFarland, and militiaman Thomas Burke—

  reveal how vio lence caused a personal and collective shift, one that would

  have dramatic repercussions for the nation.

  Watson C. Squire: “ These Trying Events Led Me to Understand”

  When he lived on the East Coast and all he knew of the U.S. West came

  from the daily paper, Watson Carvosso Squire was “inclined to think there

  was too much prejudice against the Chinese and perhaps persecution of

  them.”7 That was before he moved to Seattle.

  Born in 1838 to well- to-do parents with roots in New England, he at-

  tended Wesleyan University and read law in New York until the Civil War

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  VIO LENCE

  broke out. When President Abraham Lincoln called for volunteers, Watson

  Squire was the first man to enlist in Com pany F, 19th Regiment of New

  York Volunteers. Later he became captain of an in de pen dent com pany of

  sharpshooters, served as a trial judge- advocate overseeing thousands of cases,

 

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