The Clansman: An Historical Romance of the Ku Klux Klan

by Thomas Dixon

  CHAPTER VIII

  THE RIOT IN THE MASTER'S HALL

  Alarmed at the possible growth of the secret clan into which Ben had urgedhim to enter, Dr. Cameron determined to press for relief from oppressionby an open appeal to the conscience of the Nation.

  He called a meeting of conservative leaders in a Taxpayers' Convention atColumbia. His position as leader had been made supreme by the indignitieshe had suffered, and he felt sure of his ability to accomplish results.Every county in the State was represented by its best men in thisgathering at the Capitol.

  The day he undertook to present his memorial to the Legislature was one henever forgot. The streets were crowded with negroes who had come to townto hear Lynch, the Lieutenant-Governor, speak in a mass-meeting. Negropolicemen swung their clubs in his face as he pressed through the insolentthrong up the street to the stately marble Capitol. At the door a black,greasy trooper stopped him to parley. Every decently dressed white man wasregarded a spy.

  As he passed inside the doors of the House of Representatives the rush offoul air staggered him. The reek of vile cigars and stale whiskey, mingledwith the odour of perspiring negroes, was overwhelming. He paused andgasped for breath.

  The space behind the seats of the members was strewn with corks, brokenglass, stale crusts, greasy pieces of paper, and picked bones. The hallwas packed with negroes, smoking, chewing, jabbering, pushing,perspiring.

  A carpet-bagger at his elbow was explaining to an old darkey from downeast why his forty acres and a mule hadn't come.

  On the other side of him a big negro bawled:

  "Dat's all right! De cullud man on top!"

  The doctor surveyed the hall in dismay. At first not a white member wasvisible. The galleries were packed with negroes. The Speaker presiding wasa negro, the Clerk a negro, the doorkeepers negroes, the little pages allcoal-black negroes, the Chaplain a negro. The negro party consisted of onehundred and one--ninety-four blacks and seven scallawags, who claimed tobe white. The remains of Aryan civilization were represented bytwenty-three white men from the Scotch-Irish hill counties.

  The doctor had served three terms as the member from Ulster in this hallin the old days, and its appearance now was beyond any conceivable depthof degradation.

  The ninety-four Africans, constituting almost its solid membership, were amotley crew. Every negro type was there, from the genteel butler to theclodhopper from the cotton and rice fields. Some had on second-hand seedyfrock-coats their old master had given them before the war, glossy andthreadbare. Old stovepipe hats, of every style in vogue since Noah cameout of the ark, were placed conspicuously on the desks or cocked on thebacks of the heads of the honourable members. Some wore the coarse clothesof the field, stained with red mud.

  Old Aleck, he noted, had a red woollen comforter wound round his neck inplace of a shirt or collar. He had tried to go barefooted, but the Speakerhad issued a rule that members should come shod. He was easing his feet byplacing his brogans under the desk, wearing only his red socks.

  Each member had his name painted in enormous gold letters on his desk, andhad placed beside it a sixty-dollar French imported spittoon. Even theCongress of the United States, under the inspiration of Oakes Ames andSpeaker Colfax, could only afford one of domestic make, which cost adollar.

  The uproar was deafening. From four to six negroes were trying to speak atthe same time. Aleck's majestic mouth with blue gums and projecting teethled the chorus as he ambled down the aisle, his bow-legs flying theirred-sock ensigns.

  The Speaker singled him out--his voice was something which simply couldnot be ignored--rapped and yelled:

  "De gemman from Ulster set down!"

  Aleck turned crestfallen and resumed his seat, throwing his big flat feetin their red woollens up on his desk and hiding his face behind theirenormous spread.

  He had barely settled in his chair before a new idea flashed through hishead and up he jumped again:

  "Mistah Speaker!" he bawled.

  "Orda da!" yelled another.

  "Knock 'im in de head!"

  "Seddown, nigger!"

  The Speaker pointed his gavel at Aleck and threatened him laughingly:

  "Ef de gemman from Ulster doan set down I gwine call 'im ter orda!"

  Uncle Aleck greeted this threat with a wild guffaw, which the whole Houseabout him joined in heartily. They laughed like so many henscackling--when one started the others would follow.

  The most of them were munching peanuts, and the crush of hulls under heavyfeet added a subnote to the confusion like the crackle of a prairie fire.

  The ambition of each negro seemed to be to speak at least a half-dozentimes on each question, saying the same thing every time.

  No man was allowed to talk five minutes without an interruption whichbrought on another and another until the speaker was drowned in a storm ofcontending yells. Their struggles to get the floor with bawlings,bellowings, and contortions, and the senseless rap of the Speaker's gavel,were something appalling.

  On this scene, through fetid smoke and animal roar, looked down from thewalls, in marble bas-relief, the still white faces of Robert Hayne andGeorge McDuffie, through whose veins flowed the blood of Scottish kings,while over it brooded in solemn wonder the face of John Laurens, whosediplomatic genius at the court of France won millions of gold for ourtottering cause, and sent a French fleet and army into the Chesapeake toentrap Cornwallis at Yorktown.

  The little group of twenty-three white men, the descendants of thesespirits, to whom Dr. Cameron had brought his memorial, presented apathetic spectacle. Most of them were old men, who sat in grim silencewith nothing to do or say as they watched the rising black tide, theirdignity, reserve, and decorum at once the wonder and the shame of themodern world.

  At least they knew that the minstrel farce being enacted on that floor wasa tragedy as deep and dark as was ever woven of the blood and tears of aconquered people. Beneath those loud guffaws they could hear the deathrattle in the throat of their beloved State, barbarism stranglingcivilization by brute force.

  For all the stupid uproar, the black leaders of this mob knew what theywanted. One of them was speaking now, the leader of the House, theHonourable Napoleon Whipper.

  Dr. Cameron had taken his seat in the little group of white members in onecorner of the chamber, beside an old friend from an adjoining county whomhe had known in better days.

  "Now listen," said his friend. "When Whipper talks he always sayssomething."

  "Mr. Speaker, I move you, sir, in view of the arduous duties which ourpresiding officer has performed this week for the State, that he beallowed one thousand dollars extra pay."

  The motion was put without debate and carried.

  The Speaker then called Whipper to the Chair and made the same motion, togive the Leader of the House an extra thousand dollars for the performanceof his heavy duties.

  It was carried.

  "What does that mean?" asked the doctor.

  "Very simple; Whipper and the Speaker adjourned the House yesterdayafternoon to attend a horse race. They lost a thousand dollars eachbetting on the wrong horse. They are recuperating after the strain. Theyare booked for judges of the Supreme Court when they finish this job. Thenegro mass-meeting to-night is to indorse their names for the SupremeBench."

  "Is it possible!" the doctor exclaimed.

  When Whipper resumed his place at his desk, the introduction of billsbegan. One after another were sent to the Speaker's desk, a measure todisarm the whites and equip with modern rifles a negro militia of 80,000men; to make the uniform of Confederate gray the garb of convicts in SouthCarolina, with a sign of the rank to signify the degree of crime; toprevent any person calling another a "nigger"; to require men to removetheir hats in the presence of all officers, civil or military, and alldisfranchised men to remove their hats in the presence of voters; to forceblack and whites to attend the same schools and open the State Universityto negroes; to permit the intermarriage of whites and blacks; and toinforce s
ocial equality.

  Whipper made a brief speech on the last measure:

  "Before I am through, I mean that it shall be known that Napoleon Whipperis as good as any man in South Carolina. Don't tell me that I am not on anequality with any man God ever made."

  Dr. Cameron turned pale, and trembling with excitement, asked his friend:

  "Can that man pass such measures, and the Governor sign them?"

  "He can pass anything he wishes. The Governor is his creature--a dirtylittle scallawag who tore the Union flag from Fort Sumter, trampled it inthe dust, and helped raise the flag of Confederacy over it. Now he isbacked by the Government at Washington. He won his election by dancing atnegro balls and the purchase of delegates. His salary as Governor is$3,500 a year, and he spends over $40,000. Comment is unnecessary. ThisLegislature has stolen millions of dollars, and already bankrupted thetreasury. The day Howle was elected to the Senate of the United Statesevery negro on the floor had his roll of bills and some of them counted itout on their desks. In your day the annual cost of the State governmentwas $400,000. This year it is $2,000,000. These thieves steal daily. Theydon't deny it. They simply dare you to prove it. The writing paper on thedesks cost $16,000. These clocks on the wall $600 each, and every littleRadical newspaper in the State has been subsidized in sums varying from$1,000 to $7,000. Each member is allowed to draw for mileage, per diem,and 'sundries.' God only knows what the bill for 'sundries' will aggregateby the end of the session."

  "I couldn't conceive of this!" exclaimed the doctor.

  "I've only given you a hint. We are a conquered race. The iron hand ofFate is on us. We can only wait for the shadows to deepen into night.President Grant appears to be a babe in the woods. Schuyler Colfax, theVice-president, and Belknap, the Secretary of War, are in the saddle inWashington. I hear things are happening there that are quite interesting.Besides, Congress now can give little relief. The real lawmaking power inAmerica is the State Legislature. The State lawmaker enters into the holyof holies of our daily life. Once more we are a sovereign State--asovereign negro State."

  "I fear my mission is futile," said the doctor.

  "It's ridiculous--I'll call for you to-night and take you to hear Lynch,our Lieutenant-Governor. He is a remarkable man. Our negro Supreme CourtJudge will preside--"

  Uncle Aleck, who had suddenly spied Dr. Cameron, broke in with a laughingwelcome:

  "I 'clar ter goodness, Dr. Cammun, I didn't know you wuz here, sah. I sho'glad ter see you. I axes yer ter come across de street ter my room; I gotsumfin' pow'ful pertickler ter say ter you."

  The doctor followed Aleck out of the hall and across the street to hisroom in a little boarding-house. His door was locked, and the windowsdarkened by blinds. Instead of opening the blinds he lighted a lamp.

  "Ob cose, Dr. Cammun, you say nuffin 'bout what I gwine tell you?"

  "Certainly not, Aleck."

  The room was full of drygoods boxes. The space under the bed was packed,and they were piled to the ceiling around the walls.

  "Why, what's all this, Aleck?"

  The member from Ulster chuckled:

  "Dr. Cammun, yu'se been er pow'ful frien' ter me--gimme medicine lots ertimes, en I hain't nebber paid you nuttin'. I'se sho' come inter dekingdom now, en I wants ter pay my respects ter you, sah. Des look oberdat paper, en mark what you wants, en I hab 'em sont home fur you."

  The member from Ulster handed his physician a printed list of more thanfive hundred articles of merchandise. The doctor read it over withamazement.

  "I don't understand it, Aleck. Do you own a store?"

  "Na-sah, but we git all we wants fum mos' eny ob 'em. Dem's 'sundries,'sah, dat de Gubment gibs de members. We des orda what we needs. No trouble'tall, sah. De men what got de goods come roun' en beg us ter take 'em."

  The doctor smiled in spite of the tragedy back of the joke.

  "Let's see some of the goods, Aleck--are they first class?"

  "Yessah; de bes' goin'. I show you."

  He pulled out a number of boxes and bundles, exhibiting carpets, doormats, hassocks, dog collars, cow bells, oilcloths, velvets, mosquito nets,damask, Irish linen, billiard outfits, towels, blankets, flannels, quilts,women's hoods, hats, ribbons, pins, needles, scissors, dumb bells, skates,crape skirt braids, tooth brushes, face powder, hooks and eyes, skirts,bustles, chignons, garters, artificial busts, chemises, parasols, watches,jewellery, diamond earrings, ivory-handled knives and forks, pistols andguns, and a Webster's Dictionary.

  "Got lots mo' in dem boxes nailed up dar--yessah, hit's no use er lettin'good tings go by yer when you kin des put out yer han' en stop 'em! Someer de members ordered horses en carriages, but I tuk er par er fine muleswid harness en two buggies an er wagin. Dey 'roun at de libry stable,sah."

  The doctor thanked Aleck for his friendly feeling, but told him it was, ofcourse, impossible for him at this time, being only a taxpayer and neithera voter nor a member of the Legislature, to share in his supply of"sundries."

  He went to the warehouse that night with his friend to hear Lynch,wondering if his mind were capable of receiving another shock.

  This meeting had been called to indorse the candidacy, for Justice of theSupreme Court, of Napoleon Whipper, the Leader of the House, the notoriousnegro thief and gambler, and of William Pitt Moses, an ex-convict, hisconfederate in crime. They had been unanimously chosen for the positionsby a secret caucus of the ninety-four negro members of the House. Thisaddition to the Court, with the negro already a member, would give amajority to the black man on the last Tribunal of Appeal.

  The few white men of the party who had any sense of decency were in openrevolt at this atrocity. But their influence was on the wane. Thecarpet-bagger shaped the first Convention and got the first plums ofoffice. Now the negro was in the saddle, and he meant to stay. There werenot enough white men in the Legislature to force a roll-call on a divisionof the House. This meeting was an open defiance of all pale-faces insideor outside party lines.

  Every inch of space in the big cotton warehouse was jammed--a black livingcloud, pungent and piercing.

  The distinguished Lieutenant-Governor, Silas Lynch, had not yet arrived,but the negro Justice of the Supreme Court, Pinchback, was in his seat asthe presiding officer.

  Dr. Cameron watched the movements of the black judge, already notoriousfor the sale of his opinions, with a sense of sickening horror. This manwas but yesterday a slave, his father a medicine man in an African junglewho decided the guilt or innocence of the accused by the test ofadministering poison. If the poison killed the man, he was guilty; if hesurvived, he was innocent. For four thousand years his land had stood asolid bulwark of unbroken barbarism. Out of its darkness he had beenthrust upon the seat of judgment of the laws of the proudest and highesttype of man evolved in time. It seemed a hideous dream.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a shout. It came spontaneous andtremendous in its genuine feeling. The magnificent figure of Lynch, theiridol, appeared walking down the aisle escorted by the little scallawag whowas the Governor.

  He took his seat on the platform with the easy assurance of consciouspower. His broad shoulders, superb head, and gleaming jungle eyes heldevery man in the audience before he had spoken a word.

  In the first masterful tones of his voice the doctor's keen intelligencecaught the ring of his savage metal and felt the shock of his powerfulpersonality--a personality which had thrown to the winds every mask, whosesole aim of life was sensual, whose only fears were of physical pain anddeath, who could worship a snake and sacrifice a human being.

  His playful introduction showed him a child of Mystery, moved by Voicesand inspired by a Fetish. His face was full of good humour, and his wholefigure rippled with sleek animal vivacity. For the moment, life was acomedy and a masquerade teeming with whims, fancies, ecstasies andsuperstitions.

  He held the surging crowd in the hollow of his hand. They yelled, laughed,howled, or wept as he willed.

  Now he painted in burning words the imaginar
y horrors of slavery until thetears rolled down his cheeks and he wept at the sound of his own voice.Every dusky hearer burst into tears and moans.

  He stopped, suddenly brushed the tears from his eyes, sprang to the edgeof the platform, threw both arms above his head and shouted:

  "Hosannah to the Lord God Almighty for Emancipation!"

  Instantly five thousand negroes, as one man, were on their feet, shoutingand screaming. Their shouts rose in unison, swelled into a thunder peal,and died away as one voice.

  Dead silence followed, and every eye was again riveted on Lynch. For twohours the doctor sat transfixed, listening and watching him sway the vastaudience with hypnotic power.

  There was not one note of hesitation or of doubt. It was the challenge ofrace against race to mortal combat. His closing words again swept everynegro from his seat and melted every voice into a single frenzied shout:

  "Within five years," he cried, "the intelligence and the wealth of thismighty State will be transferred to the negro race. Lift up your heads.The world is yours. Take it. Here and now I serve notice on every whiteman who breathes that I am as good as he is. I demand, and I am going tohave, the privilege of going to see him in his house or his hotel, eatingwith him and sleeping with him, and when I see fit, to take his daughterin marriage!"

  As the doctor emerged from the stifling crowd with his friend, he drew adeep breath of fresh air, took from his pocket his conservative memorial,picked it into little bits, and scattered them along the street as hewalked in silence back to his hotel.