Straddling the Color Line:
Social and Political Power of African American Elites in
Charleston, New Orleans, and Cleveland, 1880-1920
A dissertation submitted
to Kent State University in partial
fulfillment of the requirements for the
degree of Doctor of Philosophy
by
Kim M. Carey
May, 2013
Dissertation written by
Kim M. Carey
B.S.S., Ohio University 1999
M.A., Cleveland State University, 2002
M.L.I.S., Kent State University, 2003
Ph.D., Kent State university, 2013
Approved by
Dr. Elizabeth M. Smith-Pryor, Associate
Professor
Chair, Doctoral Dissertation
Committee
Members, Doctoral Dissertation
Committee
Dr. Leonne Hudson, Associate Professor
Dr. Willie Harrell, Associate Professor
Dr. Karen Sotiropoulos, Associate Professor
Dr. Carla Goar, Associate Professor
Accepted by
Dr. Kenneth Bindas
Chair, Department of History
Dr. Raymond Craig
Associate Dean, College of Arts and
Sciences
ii
Acknowledgements
This dissertation first began to take shape during my first semester of
graduate school. The more I read about African American elites, the more I
began to question the idea that they were powerless in a white dominated
society. Although it was true that the vast majority of African Americans had very
little control over the circumstances of their lives, the same was true for the vast
majority of poor and immigrant white people during the last decades of the
1800s. I was encouraged by several professors to explore my questions in
greater depth during my masters program as well as my doctoral studies. The
result was this final academic project that answered some questions, but which
provided so many more. I will always be grateful to Dr. Elizabeth Smith-Pryor, Dr.
Leonne Hudson, Dr. Karen Sotiropoulos, Dr. Willie Harrell, and Dr. Robert
Wheeler who patiently guided and directed me and prevented me from many a
grievous error. All of these dedicated professors stand as a testament of the true
collegiality and higher purpose that is manifest in membership in the academy. I
am proud to call them friends as well as teachers.
I would also like to thank the numerous archivists that were so willing and
helpful in my unending quest for knowledge. Of particular importance were Dr.
Charles E. Nolan at the Archdiocese of New Orleans and Deborah Wright at the
Avery Research Center in Charleston. I would also like to thank everyone at the
Archives at Tulane University, Western Reserve Historical Society, South
Caroliniana Library, and the Kent State University Library.
iii
This project would have been impossible without the love and support of
my husband Charles Carey. He listened to me discuss theories, mull over
complicated language, and lived with all the men I studied for more than a
decade. He fixed dinner, fixed the car, fixed my computer problems and listened
to me whine and complain more than any human being should have had to. My
sister, Alice Carey Boyd guided me through the mysterious world of genealogy.
Without her help I would have been lost. My children Megan (Carey) Walker, Ken
Walker, Michael Carey, Jessica (Vance) Carey, Kyle Carey, Kira Carey, (and
soon to be daughter) Laura Jourdain (Carey) have encouraged me every step of
the way. They made me laugh, acted as cheerleaders and brought me snacks to
keep me going. I will forever be grateful for their love. My grandchildren
Levannah and Jayden Walker have been patient waiting for me to finish my work.
Zane and Elliott were born 9 days after this project was completed. They did not
have to share me with the computer. Jean Megill has been my friend (and sister
by choice) since childhood. She has shared all of my academic journeys
vicariously. Eileen Nance told me I could do this even when I doubted myself. Dr.
Brenda Faverty was my traveling companion to academic conferences and
research trips. She was two steps ahead of me on this journey and kept me from
many a pitfall. We shared the excitement of finding new informational treasures
and agony of deciding which ones had to fall on the cutting room floor.
Weird as it may be, I must acknowledge my lap cat Pookie who consoled
me and kept me company during hundreds of hours spent writing. She kept my
iv
lap warm and made my legs numb, and only complained slightly when I had to
get up to fetch yet another book to fact-check.
Finally, I would like to thank everyone who served on my dissertation
committee for their wisdom, challenging questions and support. They are: Dr.
Elizabeth Smith-Pryor, Dr. Leonne Hudson, Dr. Karen Sotiropoulos, Dr. Willie
Harrell, and Dr. Carla Goar.
Finally, I would like to add that even though all these dedicated
professionals added greatly to the process, any errors are entirely my own.
v
Table of Contents
I.
Acknowledgements .........................................................................iii
II.
Introduction ..................................................................................... 1
III.
Methodology and Historiography................................................... 28
IV.
The Social and Political influence of Elite African American
Politicians, Clergy and Physicians in Charleston, South Carolina . 43
V.
The Social and Political influence of Elite African American
Politicians, Clergy and Physicians in New Orleans, Louisiana... 121
VI.
The Social and Political influence of Elite African American
Politicians, Clergy and Physicians in Cleveland, Ohio ................ 210
VII.
Conclusion .................................................................................. 303
VIII.
Works Cited ................................................................................ 312
vi
Introduction
I am neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, neither 'nigger,'
white nor buckrah.' Too 'stuck up' for the colored
folk, and of course, not recognized by the whites
-- Charles W. Chesnutt
A rising race must be aristocratic; the good
cannot consort with the bad-nor even the best
with the less good
-- W.E.B. DuBois
Social circles are connected throughout the
country, and a person in good standing in one
city is readily accepted in another
--James Weldon Johnson1
Charles W. Chesnutt was born in Cleveland, Ohio, in June 20, 1858. His
mother, Ann Maria Sampson and his father, Andrew Jackson Chesnutt met in
1856 as they joined other free people of color fleeing the intensifying racial
oppression in their home state of North Carolina. Ann Marie and her mother
made their new home in Cleveland. Andrew was traveling farther west to
Indianapolis where he planned to settle with an uncle who was already living
there. By 1857, Andrew knew that he wanted to spend his life with the young
1 Richard H. Broadhead, ed. The Journals of Charles W. Chesnutt (Durham: Duke University
Press, 1993) 157; William E.B. DuBois The Black North in 1901: A Social Study (N.Y.: Arno Press,
1969) 46; James Weldon Johnson, The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man (New York, Alfred
A. Knopf, 1979), 82.
1
2
woman he met on the journey. He returned to Cleveland, married Ann Maria, and
there they began their life together.2
The outbreak of the Civil War changed life for the Chesnutts just as it did
for most American families. Andrew served in the Union army and his wife
remained at home in Cleveland with her children and her mother. When the war
finally ended, Andrew went to visit his father in North Carolina and found him in
ill-health. Believing it was his duty to help his father, Andrew stayed in the South
and sent for his family to join him. This twist of fate moved young Charles
Chesnutt away from the opportunities and relative freedoms of the North to the
struggles of a life in the war-torn South.3
Andrew Chesnutt achieved a measure of success in the reconstructed
South. He served as a justice of the peace and a county commissioner. His
children attended the local Freedmen's Bureau schools. Charles was precocious
and by the age of fourteen he served as a pupil-teacher at the school he
attended. This appointment allowed him to earn a salary while continuing his own
schooling. During the summers he wandered the North Carolina countryside in
search of remote areas where he could earn money teaching brief sessions of
school to rural children. By 1877, at the age of nineteen years, Charles served as
an instructor at the Howard Normal School in Fayetteville, North Carolina.4
2 Helen M. Chesnutt Charles Waddell Chesnutt: Pioneer of the Color Line. (Chapel Hill:
University of North Carolina Press, 1952), 1-2.
3 Charles Waddell Chesnutt, 3-4.
4 Charles Waddell Chesnutt, 15.
3
Susan Perry also taught at the Howard School. Just days before Charles'
twentieth birthday, he and Susan married. He had a secure job, but he was
ambitious. A small southern city had few opportunities for a young African
American man. Charles soon decided:
I will go to the North, where although the prejudice
sticks, like a foul blot on the fair scutcheon of
American liberty, yet a man may enjoy these
privileges if he has the money to pay for them. I will
live down the prejudice, I will crush it out. If I can exalt
my race, if I can gain the applause of the good, and
the approbation of God, the thoughts of the ignorant
and prejudiced will not concern me.5
Chesnutt knew racism existed in the North, but he also knew that his
education and ambition would serve to elevate him above the worst aspects of
racial discrimination. He and his wife were well-educated. They possessed
Victorian sensibilities and refinement. They could make a better life for their
family in a city known for racial tolerance.
Making a decision was not the same as putting a plan into action. Two
years later in the fall of 1880, the principal of the Howard School, Robert Harris
died. Harris had been Chesnutt's teacher, advisor and mentor. Some of the
"leading citizens, insisted that Chesnutt go to the state capital at Raleigh to apply
for the position of principal." These men gave Chesnutt letters of
recommendation to carry with him. One letter epitomized the notion of what it
meant to be a member of the African American elite. Chesnutt's mentor wrote:
5
Chesnutt, Charles Waddell Chesnutt, 17. (quoted from her father's journal October 16, 1878.)
4
Charles W. Chesnutt "is competent--he is educated…and although colored, he is
a gentleman." 6
Charles Chesnutt and the other members of the African American
elite were indeed gentlemen. In America the label of gentleman and notions of
class were highly fluid when compared to the rigid formality of European class
structures. What made America unique in the world at that time was that people
had the potential to elevate themselves socially as well as economically, a
condition in sharp contrast to the hereditary class structure evident in European
societies. In America, people were classified by a myriad of elements. Some of
the most significant were nationality and ethnicity; behavior and respectability;
wealth, possessions, employment and education.7
It was possible, and even likely, that an individual would change
class status within the course of a single generation. Young elite black men, born
in post-slavery America and embarking on manhood during the 1880s had great
hope for their own future and the futures of their children. Individuals born into
the black economic and social middle class or the black elite during
Reconstruction logically supposed that race relations in America would continue
to improve. Respected for their intelligence, their demeanor and their ability to
Charles Waddell Chesnutt, 25.
David R. Roediger The Wages of Whiteness: Race and the Making of the American Working
Class. Revised Edition (London, England: Verso, 1999), 46-47. In the years covered by this study
there was debate regarding the place of immigrants in society. Jewish people, Irish, Italians and
others were not considered "white." They eventually acquired the status of "whiteness" in the
racial discourse, but the controversy over who was white and who was not left the status of
African American elites up for debate. Members of the black elite were far more like the white
elites than immigrant people were. As a result, respectability and social class were far more
important as determining factors of social class than race was at the end of the nineteenth
century.
6
7
5
negotiate the complicated realms of community and electoral politics, African
American gentlemen in the ”Victorian” tradition served as models worthy of
emulation. They were sought after by many whites and blacks as spokesmen for
their race. In an era when self-made men were heralded as model Americans,
successful members of the African American elite proved that talent was not a
respecter of race. 8
"Straddling the Color Line: Social and Political Power of African American
Elites in Charleston, New Orleans and Cleveland 1880-1920" examines the
power exerted by prominent African American men in three diverse, yet
interrelated, American cities: Charleston, South Carolina; New Orleans,
Louisiana; and Cleveland, Ohio. Each city alone could have provided a
fascinating study; however, this comparative study illustrates the degree of power
exerted by African American elites not just within the black community but also
across the color line in three major American cities.
The years from 1880 through 1920 are highly significant years in
American history. They span the decades that followed the collapse of
Reconstruction and extend until the beginning of the intellectual achievements of
the Harlem Renaissance. Historians have written exhaustively about the impact
of African Americans on Reconstruction but have neglected to follow the change
over time that elite men experienced in the decades that followed
Reconstruction. The one major exception to this is Willard B. Gatewood's
Willard B. Gatewood Aristocrats of Color: The Black Elite 1880-1920. (Fayetteville: University
of Arkansas Press, 2000), 10-30.
8
6
Aristocrats of Color. While Gatewood successfully demonstrated the presence of
the African American elite class in post-Reconstruction America, his study did not
address the power the members of the black elite exerted. For example, the
continued election of African Americans to state and federal offices demonstrated
that some African American elite men attained and held power well after the end
of Reconstruction.9
This dissertation argues that although racism was evident throughout
most of America, some elite African American men possessed far more
opportunities, privileges, and influence than other men of their race. It may even
be said that they were more prominent than the majority of white men in America.
Most importantly, they had personal relationships with powerful white men who
depended on them for their knowledge and insight. In some instances the power
of elite African Americans extended far beyond the cities in which they lived. The
social networks of these men were national in scope and the most powerful men
traveled freely throughout America serving as ambassadors and spokesmen for
the rest of their race. Some African American elite men attained real personal
and political power to influence the world they shared with prominent white men.
10
Following the Civil War, Congress instituted three amendments to the
Constitution known as the Reconstruction Amendments which then had to be
Aristocrats of Color, 310-333
Many notable men who were influential will be discussed throughout this dissertation. They are
the basis of the study of black power during a time when most white people believed that blacks
had virtually no power at all. Booker T. Washington serves as one example (although not from
the cities included in this dissertation) as a man with the type of power noted.
9
10
7
ratified by the states. They legislated emancipation for blacks, citizenship for
people born in America, equality and due process under the law for all citizens,
and the right to vote for all black men who were citizens of the appropriate age.
Although the Reconstruction Amendments to the Constitution were a Republican
attempt to legislate legal equality for all male Americans, the black struggle for
full social and political equality continued long after Reconstruction. The
Compromise of 1877 ended Reconstruction. This event led historians, most
notably Rayford W. Logan, to argue that "The Nadir," or lowest point in American
race relations began with the collapse of Reconstruction. In contrast, James
Loewen contradicts Logan saying the nadir began with the withdrawal of
Republican Party support for African Americans around 1890. By examining the
lives and networks of elite African American men from the 1880s through the
1920s, this dissertation demonstrates that the nadir began later than either
Logan or Loewen suggested, particularly in cities of the urban North. 11
11 Rayford W. Logan, The Negro in American Life and Thought: The Nadir 1877-1901 (N.Y.: Dial
Press, 1954) 52; James W. Loewen Sundown Towns: A Hidden Dimension of American Racism
(New York: The New Press, 2005), p. 24-46. Loewen says specifically: "African Americans played
no significant role in either political party from 1892 on.", 33; Eric Foner, Give Me Liberty: An
American History. Seagull Edition (N.Y.: W.W. Norton and Company, 2006), 470; 491-494;
507-509. Darlene Clark Hine, William C. Hine, Stanley Harrold, African Americans: A Concise
History. (Upper Saddle River, N.J.: Pearson Publishing, 2006), 372.
The Reconstruction Amendments to the U.S. Constitution are the Thirteenth, Fourteenth and
Fifteenth Amendments ratified between 1865 and 1877. They abolished slavery in the United
States, defined a citizen as a person born on U.S. soil and outlawed discrimination in voting based
on race, color or previous condition of servitude. Historians generally accept the years 1865-1877
as the years representing the Reconstruction Era although some aspects of reconstructing the
divided nation occurred earlier than 1865 and others continued on beyond 1877. Those dates are
associated with the signing of the treaty at Appomattox Courthouse ending hostilities in the
eastern theater during the Civil War. The ending year, 1877 corresponds with the political bargain
that awarded the Presidency to Republican candidate Rutherford B. Hayes over his Democratic
opponent. The 1920s and 1930s are associated with the cultural awakening beginning in the
8
Men of the African American elite became accustomed to lives of relative
freedom in Charleston, New Orleans and Cleveland in the years following the
Civil War. They occupied unique social and political positions during
Reconstruction and also in post-Reconstruction America. Some were wealthy;
others were not. Some possessed fair skin and straight hair; others had darker
skin and curly hair. Despite the differences in complexion, what united them was
a dedication to learning and culture and the ability to speak "flawless English."
These characteristics drove young Charles Chesnutt as he sought to achieve a
place of prominence in the world. Had he and others like him been white men,
they would certainly have been identified in American society as Victorian
gentlemen. Indeed, some elite blacks were accorded the honor or the title of
gentleman. Identification as a "gentleman" was not based solely on occupation or
profession. Membership in this group, one William E.B. DuBois would later call
"The Talented Tenth", defined their status in society. One of the most important
requirements for being a member of the Talented Tenth, rested on a moral
component. The label "gentleman" implied a man had to have good character
and be worthy of emulation.12
Harlem neighborhood of New York City and spreading throughout the nation. It is generally
confined to the interwar period of the 1920s through the 1930s.
12 Aristocrats of Color, 27, 214; W.E.B DuBois, Souls of Black Folk, 1903; The Negro in
American Life and Thought, 331. David Cody, "The Gentlemen," The Victorian Web: Literature,
History and Culture in the Age of Victoria.
(http://www.victorianweb.org/history/gentleman.html) Accessed July 21, 2012. Members of the
black elite did not face racial oppression in their daily lives. They were aware of the extreme
racism that most blacks faced, but they did not often encounter such bias in their daily lives.
9
Elite African Americans believed race relations would continually
improve allowing their opportunities for success to also expand. A select few
middle and upper class blacks began forging professional relationships with
liberal, powerful whites. These middle class and elite black men were convinced
of their obvious and inherent equality with white Victorian gentlemen. Although
not socially accepted by all whites into white society, most elite blacks rejected
personal affiliation with other blacks they considered socially inferior. In essence
these men, and their families, straddled the color line, living in neither the lower
class black world nor in the white. Often they lived in predominantly white
neighborhoods rejecting association with the poorest people of either race. As a
result, they lived in a kind of limbo, moving between the black and white worlds;
understanding both worlds, but mostly living in a world of their own. 13
Many black elites such as Charles W. Chesnutt, descended from
families that were free before the Civil War. Some were biracial, born of white
fathers and black mothers who could have been slave or free. Others gained
freedom by escape, by purchasing their freedom, through military service during
the Civil War or from their owner's voluntary emancipation. Some achieved a
level of economic prosperity through hard work and education during the
antebellum years that placed them economically far above the majority of white
people in America. Others gained wealth and status during Reconstruction
Blair L. M. Kelley, Right to Ride: Streetcar Boycotts and African American Citizenship in the
Era of Plessy v. Ferguson. (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2010), 10, passim.
Aristocrats of Color, 164-165, 361-365.
13
10
through hard work, luck, and shrewd investments. A very few inherited wealth
from relatives, some white and some black. Because most members of the elite
were not common laborers, they expected to be treated with a measure of
respect by whites as well as blacks.14
The notion of an elite class resulted from distinct social hierarchies firmly
entrenched in the American South. There a strictly enforced social class system
existed. This clearly demarcated social structure for whites had a parallel
structure that applied within black society. According to historian Glenda Gilmore
the hierarchy in black society rested on a "caste system in which skin color, class
and gender dictated the pattern of every daily interaction." During the antebellum
period wealthy white men saw themselves as father figures to all those whom
they dominated, and those white men who had been slave-owners dominated
virtually everybody who was not one of them.15
Historians refer to that system of white domination in the antebellum South
as paternalism. Paternalism was an effective system of control and powerful
14 Aristocrats of Color, 43-44. One man who exemplified these ideas was Robert Smalls (a slave
from South Carolina who served in the Union Navy and was later elected to the South Carolina
House of Representatives, Senate and U.S. House of Representatives)
15 Glenda Elizabeth Gilmore, Gender and Jim Crow: Women and the politics of White
Supremacy in North Carolina, 1896-1920. (Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press,
1996), 3. The class structure among whites was so extreme in Charleston before the Civil War, one
Englishman reported that there seemed to be "no middle class; only rich and poor." Quoted in
Walter J. Fraser, Jr. Charleston! Charleston! History of a Southern City. Columbia: University of
South Carolina Press, first paperback edition, 1991), 240; Referring to the black elite two decades
later Fraser wrote, "Members of the city's free antebellum free mulatto elite…segregated
themselves from the new freedmen and resumed their prewar connections with the white upper
class…A Northern visitor to Charleston in the 1870s spent an evening with a 'colored' family
'whose house was furnished with every modern improvement and whose table was supplied with
choice meats and rare wines.", Charleston! Charleston , 297. Some free blacks who owned slaves
were guilty of paternalism by virtue of their ownership of other human beings. There is clear
evidence of paternalism among some black businessmen in the twentieth century.
11
whites drew on social strategies that had worked in the past. In some cases, they
awarded a few dependable blacks a measure of social control to help implement
white policies. Those African Americans had no real influence; their presence
was symbolic and was simply an extension of white power. Although the Civil
War and emancipation disrupted the original form of paternalism, southern whites
reinvented paternalism following Reconstruction, as a means of further
distancing themselves from all black people.16
Despite the southern rejection of racial equality, and the worsening racial
conditions in America after 1877, there were some African American men who
continued to amass power in the South as well as the North. Their ability to
prosper and thrive will be discussed in depth in chapter two focusing on the
power of Walter Cohen in New Orleans and in chapter three discussing the
importance of Cleveland's African American elite and their role in the election of
1896.17
The years from 1880 through 1920 were selected as parameters because
those years were critical as America emerged from being a relatively isolated
Aristocrats of Color, 314-6; Rayford Logan, The Negro in American Life and Thought, 323.
The idea of powerful whites awarding a measure of power to trustworthy African Americans
under slavery was evident whereby some African Americans were elevated to the position of slave
driver or lead worker. Those men acted as liaison between the master and the field workers.
Rewarding trustworthy African American men with patronage positions in the postReconstruction era was an extension of that system of control. By using African Americans to
implement their policies, whites circumvented the provisions of the Reconstruction Amendments.
J. Douglas Smith, Managing White Supremacy: Race, Politics and Citizenship in Jim Crow
Virginia. (Chapel Hill: University Of North Carolina Press, 2002), 300- 301 note 3. Smith argues
"As both a term and a concept, 'paternalism' has been used to describe a wide range of behaviors
and attitudes. At its core, paternalism entails a belief in the social, cultural, intellectual,
emotional, and often racial superiority of one individual or group" over another. In such cases, the
one who behaves paternalistically is presuming to act in the best interests of the other.
17 Walter Cohen was a politically important political operative in the Republican Party from New
Orleans, Louisiana. His grandfather was a politically important white man in Mississippi history.
16
12
fledgling nation that had almost self-destructed to a powerful nation poised to
take her place as a world power. During those years Americans changed their
world view dramatically. In the aftermath of the Civil War, the notion of what it
meant to be American changed. Prior to the war, Americans were white, but the
passage of the Foourteenth Amendment to the Constitution included African
Americans in the body of citizenship. Many Southern whites could not accept the
notion that former slaves were now their legal and political equals. Of primary
importance to this study is the ability to define the population upon which this
dissertation focuses. Historians rarely feel a need to define white as a population.
In the early history of America, one necessarily assumes that political and
community leaders were white. According to Gary Wray McDonogh: “White does
not need to be defined except to specify who is excluded.” In fact, in America,
because “[w]hites have held and reproduced political, economic and social power
for centuries,” it was simply assumed that when discussing powerful, public
figures, they were white unless otherwise stated. Because there was the
assumption that all public figures were assumed to be white in historical
discourse, all other populations then had to be carefully defined to avoid
misrepresentation.18
Gary Wray McDonogh, Black and Catholic in Savannah, Georgia. (Knoxville: The University of
Tennessee Press, 1993), 74. In response to this lack of identifying white as a racial category, Nell
Irvin Painter has recently published The History of White People. ( New York: W.W. Norton and
Company, 2010). Before the Civil War blacks and Indians were not considered citizens. White
European immigrants had a path to citizenship; others did not. The passage of the Reconstruction
Amendments made all people born on American soil citizens. This notion challenged the
stereotypes of what it meant to be American. As the middle class expanded during the Gilded Age,
18
13
In his study of African Americans in Savannah, Georgia, historian
Gary Wray McDonogh defined populations based who had power writing:
White in Savannah has not represented a simple
class domination over blacks so much as the
imposition of a caste framework that also poses two
class systems in unequal relationship to each other.
That is, both blacks and whites as categories are
internally divided (as a result of a caste system) by
unequal access to production and by a related
distribution of social rights and cultural values.19
Although McDonogh's research focused on Savannah, Georgia, his
observations with regard to race would have been accurate throughout America.
Not only were Americans stratified by race, but they were also sub-divided within
each race by economic and social status. Beyond economics, class status was
determined initially by family heritage and later by an individual's contributions to
society. In the case of African Americans, if their ancestors were members of a
free black society during antebellum times or they had fair complexions, they
were more likely members of a higher social class. Although complexion shade
affected class standing within the black community, skin color was not the major
marker of social class. Respectability, education and culture were more important
characteristics than pigmentation.20
Individuals who belonged to the upper classes had greater potential
for success. The histories of America’s Gilded Age and Progressive Era are
replete with success stories. It was an era of self-made men who, through
notions of class began to change as well. White Americans were forced to reevaluate their notions
of citizenship and how those citizens would fit into American society.
19 Black and Catholic in Savannah, 75.
20 Black and Catholic in Savannah, 75. Gender and Jim Crow, xviii-xix.
14
diligence and perseverance escaped the bonds of poverty to live on millionaire’s
row. While few individuals were able to complete this transformation, the hope for
wealth and power served as a powerful lure to those willing to work hard and
smart. These desires were not limited to hopeful whites; they burned in the
hearts of African Americans as well. Certainly it is true that few black men
reached the pinnacles of success; however, few whites managed to attain them
either. Those African Americans who did achieve a significant measure of
success were classified by William E.B. DuBois in 1903 as members of the
"Talented Tenth;” the top ten percent of the black economic and social hierarchy.
Members of the "Talented Tenth" had little in common with poor and uneducated
African Americans except in some cases the color of their skin. In many ways,
members of the Talented Tenth epitomized the characteristics of Victorian Era
middle and upper class white people.21
Martin Summers provided an excellent explanation of the process of selfidentification that occurred in America during the shift from Victorian culture to
modern culture, which he believed occurred between the 1890s and the 1920s.
According to Summers, the dramatic expansion of the middle class transformed
American society as a whole. The changes were not strictly economic, although
economics was a significant element. It was an era of fluidity as notions of race
and class were renegotiated across America. In the post-World War I years,
21 "Souls of Black Folk", (Chicago: A.C. McClurg & Co.,1903). Many members of the Talented
Tenth had very fair complexions and some resembled white people more than black. Some chose
to self identify as black.
15
access to commodities and the corresponding conspicuous consumption became
one new measure of prosperity and its resulting class shift. “[D]isplay, and the
use of commodities could provide personal self-fulfillment as well as signal one’s
social position—[this] became the central organizing principle for how individuals
experienced their own identity and interacted with one another.” Middle and
upper class blacks wrongly assumed that because they had the financial means
to live in a comparable way with middle class whites, they would be accepted by
white society. 22
As public places of entertainment began to replace private forms of
amusement, access to entertainment in the public sphere became another
measure of class status and its resulting equality. Having the financial means to
participate in the consumer culture and the entertainment opportunities of the
growing public sphere was yet more evidence of the movement of African
Americans into the growing middle class. However, instead of being welcomed
into the American middle class, most African Americans found themselves
segregated into a parallel middle class or lower class. In essence, the financial
ability to purchase entertainment led to racial conflict as blacks and whites of
similar economic means sought to consume the same culture in the same space
at the same time. After the custom of Jim Crow segregation was constitutionally
Martin Summers, Manliness and its Discontents: The Black Middle Class and the
Transformation of Masculinity, 1900-1930. (Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press,
2004), 156. Following World War I, notions of race and class altered. Prior to that time, Jewish
people, Italians, Irish and others were not considered "white." White was assumed to be
Europeans of Protestant heritage and many other groups were excluded. Therefore, the notion of
who is white has changed over time.
22
16
upheld in 1896, Americans saw the emergence of two separate and unequal
societies defined by race. Those societies intersected in very limited ways. One
point of intersection was between the African American elite and their white
counterparts.23
Historians, including Willard B. Gatewood and August Meier, identified the
accepted criteria for inclusion as a member of the African American elite during
the post-Reconstruction years. Wealth was a factor, but it was one of the least
important elements. In many regions the most important factors determining who
was elite was membership in exclusive societies. Sometimes membership was
limited to individuals who were related to other members. Respectability was also
considered when a man applied for membership in an exclusive organization.24
Membership in exclusive societies, an aura of respectability and the
potential for economic security was evident for whites and blacks in both
Charleston and New Orleans before and after the Civil War. In Charleston there
were white elites and black elites, but the configuration of the classes was
dramatically different in New Orleans. There were four distinct elite populations in
African Americans, 279-281.The quote from Charles Chesnutt on pages 3-4 above reflect
Chesnutt's perspective regarding his access to commodities of the mainstream society. He
believed that if he lived in the North and had enough wealth to purchase "privileges" (meaning
access to cultural events, restaurants, etc.) he would have the access to them he deserved as a
member of the "better class" of men. Gender and Jim Crow, xix.
24 Aristocrats of Color, 24.; August Meier, Negro Thought in America: 1880-1915. (Ann Arbor:
University of Michigan Press, 1963), 207- 214. This shift in the criteria for membership in the
black elite will be discussed in depth later in the section covering Cleveland, Ohio. It is in the
North during the post-World War I era that new leaders emerge from a group of self-made men
who disdained interracial cooperation in favor of power based on wealth and influence within the
African American community as opposed to in the city at large. For more on who was a "New
Negro" see William Pickens The New Negro : His Political, Civil and Mental Status and Related
Essays, (N.Y.: Neale Publishing Company 1916; reprint N.Y.: AMS Press,1969).
23
17
the Crescent City. One community was led by the Protestant, English speaking,
wealthy, white planters; another by Catholic, French speaking, wealthy, white
planters. There were also corresponding classes of African American elites.
Usually the French speaking, Catholic, wealthy blacks were mulattos who were
biologically related to their white counterparts. Descended from formalized,
acknowledged relationships between wealthy white planters and free women of
color, they were a social class unto themselves. These free people of color were
at the pinnacle of black society in New Orleans and were called Black Creoles.
Many were business owners, some were planters and had been slave owners,
but the majority of this group never attained the same level of extreme wealth or
prestige of their white counterparts. Finally, there were also American Black
elites. They spoke English and generally practiced Protestant faiths. American
Blacks in New Orleans rarely possessed the same level of prestige as their
French speaking African American counterparts. 25
Some elite Black Creoles were well-educated, sent by their white fathers
to exclusive colleges in Europe or in the North. The most fortunate ones also
received an inheritance or were set up in business by their fathers. In some
cases, Black Creoles owned plantations and slaves (before the Civil War). Some
members of these wealthy biracial families worked in close association with their
father’s white children by his legal marriage. The existence of these biological
John W. Blassingame, Black New Orleans 1860-1880. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1973) , 1-22; Justin A. Nystrom , New Orleans After the Civil War: Race Politics and a New Birth
of Freedom, (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2010), 19-21, 55, 101.
25
18
relationships created complex social and business relationships across the color
line both before and after the Civil War. Black Creoles enjoyed many
opportunities and privileges unavailable to free blacks in other parts of the
South.26
During Reconstruction these wealthy Black Creoles in New Orleans
readily assumed leadership roles they believed were rightfully theirs. Political
activists who came of age both before and after the end of Reconstruction, such
as James Lewis and Walter Cohen, carried Louisiana’s Republican banner long
after the Democratic Redeemers had wrested control from the Party of Lincoln.
As Republican influence waned in Louisiana following the 1877 election of
Rutherford B. Hayes, Cohen continued to hold leadership positions and served
as an influential delegate at numerous Republican National Conventions. He
contributed his electoral expertise long after his party had any chance of
dominating state politics. For these reasons, the city of New Orleans was
included in the study. 27
The situation was somewhat different in Charleston, South Carolina. The
very first British ship bringing settlers to Carolina from England arrived in 1670.
On board were twenty-nine free men, "sixty -three indentured white
servants…and at least one black slave." The slave population in Carolina grew
rapidly along with the successful cultivation of rice, and it was not long before "[i]
26 Joe Gray Taylor, Louisiana Reconstructed 1863-1876, ( Baton Rouge, Louisiana State
University Press, 1974), 425: Black New Orleans, 108-9, 155-162.
27 August Meier, Negro Thought in America 1880-1915: Racial Ideologies in the Age of Booker T.
Washington. (Ann Arbor, University of Michigan Press, 1988), 149-157; Aristocrats of Color, 4142, 83-90. Black New Orleans 1860-1880, 1-24.
19
mports of West Africans rose faster than exports of rice." Almost from its
inception as a colony, slavery was an integral part of the Charleston economy.
Although the system of slavery was the economic basis of the Charleston
economy, the relationship between elite blacks and elite whites was very different
there. In Charleston almost all elite whites spoke English and the Protestant
churches were predominant. This was true for the black elites as well. Because
there were two elite classes in Charleston as opposed to the four elite classes in
New Orleans, alliances between blacks and whites were simply across racial
lines.28
One other dramatic difference was evident in Charleston. Prior to the Civil
War, interracial marriage was not illegal in South Carolina. By 1860 there were
"approximately 500 free mulattoes laced together by intermarriage within a free
Afro-American population of more than 3,000, many of whom were slaveholders
themselves." New Orleans and Charleston were two southern cities with sizable
free black populations before the Civil War. Although free blacks in both cities
owned slaves, were well-educated, closely related to white families and relatively
wealthy, their cultures were vastly different. In Charleston black society did not
appear to parallel its white counterpart as closely as it did in New Orleans.
Because English was the primary language for elite blacks in Charleston their
society reflected that difference. Conversely, in New Orleans the prevalence of a
foreign language and culture made close interaction between elite blacks and
Walter J. Frasier, Jr. Charleston! Charleston! The History of a Southern City. (Columbia,
University Of South Carolina Press, 1989) 3, 13.
28
20
elite whites more acceptable. French heritage made francophone free blacks
exotic and not simply free people of color.29
The differences between Charleston and New Orleans became even more
apparent after Reconstruction. In 1880, in terms of population, New Orleans was
the largest of the three cities included in this study and by 1920, New Orleans
was the largest city in the South. Eventually, Cleveland, Ohio became the most
populous of the three because of rapid industrialization at the end of the
nineteenth century. Over the course of the four decades studied, the population
of Charleston was never more than 25% of that of New Orleans. Charleston
remained a poor competitor with regard to the economic growth and expansion
evident in New Orleans at the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of
the twentieth. Despite its economic inferiority to New Orleans, politically
Charleston continued to play a significant role in the racial history of the United
States.30
Prior to the Civil War, segregation was customary by race, class status
and economics in many parts of America. During Reconstruction, African
Americans obtained due process and citizenship through implementation of the
14th Amendment. The codification of racism in the South, particularly in
Interracial marriage WAS legal in New Orleans before the Civil War. Frasier states that there
were occasional marriages between whites and mulattoes. Charleston! Charleston!, 199-200.
Black New Orleans, 203; 18-22.
30 Howard Rabinowitz, in Brownell and Goldfield. The City in Southern History: The Growth of
Urban Civilization in the South. (Port Washington, N.Y., Kennikat Press, 1977), 93. According to
the population numbers provided by Rabinowitz the population of New Orleans was as follows:
1880: 216,090; 1890: 242,039; 1900: 287,104;The population of Charleston was 1880: 49, 948;
1890: 54,955; 1900: 55,807. In New Orleans 1910: 339,075; 1920: 387,219.
29
21
Charleston and New Orleans, began in earnest in the decades following
Reconstruction. As middle class and elite blacks gained the economic ability to
increase discretionary spending and participate in events held in public places,
some middle and upper class whites believed it necessary to preserve the
boundaries of their public space. They did this by imposing legal sanctions to
create legal boundaries to preserve the white world they believed they deserved.
Practices that had once been dictated by custom eventually became law. Yet,
members of the African American elite and upper middle classes did not willingly
accept what they saw as a digression in their quest for equality. Consequently,
the stage was set for a power struggle between elite blacks and their white
counterparts; two populations who were far more similar than they were different.
31
In sharp contrast to the southern cities, Cleveland, Ohio was not an early
American settlement. It was located in Connecticut's Western Reserve, land west
of the Appalachian Mountains that was reserved for Connecticut families who lost
their land to the British during the Revolutionary War. When the Northwest
Territory was organized, Cleveland became part of the Great Northwest. In the
newly organized territory, slavery was prohibited. Ohio was the first region of the
31 Aristocrats of Color, 86; Barnard E. Powers, Jr. Black Charlestonians: A Social History 18221885 (Fayetteville: University of Arkansas Press, 1994), 231-260 Although there were tendencies
to segregate in rural areas of Louisiana earlier, "social equality remained viable as late as the
1890s, particularly in New Orleans." New Orleans After the Civil War, 213.
22
Northwest Territory to attain statehood and from Ohio's inception, slavery was
outlawed. 32
After Ohio’s statehood, Cleveland became a well-known stop on the
Underground Railroad for African Americans fleeing the bonds of slavery.
Although Cleveland remained overwhelmingly white until the onset of the Great
Migration during the second decade of the twentieth century, African Americans
settled in and around the city. The nearby town of Oberlin, Ohio, housed the first
co-educational and interracial college in America, Oberlin College. It was within
this context that the races peacefully coexisted in northern Ohio during the
formative years in American history. Racism existed, but it was far less pervasive
than the institutionalized racism apparent in the South.33
According to historian Kenneth Kusmer, Cleveland placed second only to
New Orleans in terms of the economic status of elite blacks at the end of the
nineteenth century. One reason that Cleveland was a such a desirous location
for members of the elite was because “there was no noticeable trend toward the
ghettoization of the black population” in Cleveland before 1880. African
Americans lived throughout the city within a reasonable distance from their
places of employment. Additionally, most blacks living in the city lived in single
family dwellings, just as white residents of the city did. During the latter decades
of the nineteenth century, some clustering of black families began, but there was
Andrew R. L. Cayton Ohio: The History of a People (Columbus: Ohio State University Press,
2002), 29-30; Give Me Liberty, 218.
33 George W. Knepper Ohio and Its People (Kent, OH: Kent State University Press, 2003), 207;
185.
32
23
no formal segregation in the city. The predominant evidence of prejudice in
Cleveland during the late 1800s was economically based and pertained to poor
immigrant whites as well as poor blacks. 34
By the 1880s Cleveland had become a rapidly growing, industrial city. The
African American population was still very small in the 1880s, and amounted to
less than two percent of the total population. Little overt racism existed evident in
Cleveland during the latter decades of the nineteenth century. Although
residency there was not a panacea for all societal problems faced by blacks,
Cleveland became a favored location in the eyes of elite African Americans.35
The divisive racial issues that germinated in the South following
Reconstruction did not emerge in northern cities in general, and Cleveland in
particular until the second decade of the twentieth century. At that time waves of
uneducated black southerners descended on the Forest City called the Great
Migration. Poor sharecroppers and other unskilled workers headed north in
search of better employment and for relief from the racial oppression that existed
in the South. Prior to 1910, the African American population in Cleveland
numbered less than 8,000. There was minimal discrimination and little conflict
between black and white residents. During the second decade of the twentieth
century, the overall population of Cleveland grew dramatically in response to
unprecedented growth in the manufacturing sector. The total population of
Cleveland grew from just over 560,000 people in 1910 to more than 900,000 by
34
35
A Ghetto Takes Shape, 10-12; 23.
A Ghetto Takes Shape, 10.
24
1930. During the same time, Cleveland's African American population grew from
8,400 to nearly 72,000 people. It was in response to this enormous surge in
population that overt racism and discrimination developed in northeast Ohio.36
Based on logic and the strength of numbers, it would be easy to assume
that African American power grew proportionately as the size of Cleveland's
black population grew. However, as the black population grew, so did white
resistance to African American participation in community affairs. In this major
industrial city the black population was once a small minority within a multitude of
ethnic neighborhoods. Following World War I, African Americans emerged as a
large community within the confines of a rapidly changing, ethnically diverse
metropolis. In response to the changes evinced in Cleveland, as in other cities of
the industrial North, a new attitude of African American civic participation
emerged; a phenomenon called “the New Negro.” 37
Classification as a "New Negro" was not determined in the same way as
membership in the African American elite. The idea of a New Negro was equated
with an attitude or a measure of economic success. Members of the New Negro
social hierarchy were very different from those of the old elite and there was very
little crossover in membership. Membership in the old elite was defined by
A Ghetto Takes Shape, 10. (Quoted from United States Census reports)
The term the “New Negro” was used by many to refer to a great many different circumstances;
however, for the purpose of this dissertation the term refers to the self made men of the black
middle and upper classes- those who achieved their social and financial success within and from
the black community without interaction from whites. The term became popular during the
Harlem Renaissance but was actually in use before that time. "Hubert H. Harrison argues that the
New Negro must embrace a 'race first' philosophy" quoted in Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and Gene
Andrew Jarrett, eds. The New Negro: Readings on Race, Representation and African American
Culture 1892-1938 (Princeton, N.J. Princeton University Press, 2007), 8.
36
37
25
adherence to the cultural standards that defined Victorian manhood.
Classification as a New Negro could be as simple a definition as being
economically successful without being acknowledged as a member of the elite.
Historian Martin Summers quoted a sentiment proposed by the Garveyites that
said: “The Old Negro, invariably represented as a male but not a man… Men
who comprised the category of The Old Negro were not viewed as a threat to
white society." Based on Summers' classification, the representation of the “Old
Negro” was bound by externally imposed constraints from the white community
as the black elite man maintained his status though adherence to carefully
proscribed behaviors. However, upon close examination, this caricature fails to
fully capture the lives and experiences of the "Old Negroes." Many ignored the
imposed constraints as they successfully straddled the color line.38
By comparison, the New Negro was elevated to his status as a leader by
virtue of his support entirely from within the black community. Members of the
New Negro leadership did not straddle the color line as their predecessors had.
Nor did they seek to separate themselves from those of the lower classes. The
New Negro believed the old elites had outlived their usefulness; they were out of
touch with the changing world. By the 1920s it was clear to the New Negro that
integration would not be an immediate America’s solution to the “race problem”
and that other avenues would need to be pursued. If African Americans were to
38 Martin Summers, Manliness and its Discontents: The Black Middle Class and the
Transformation of Masculinity, 1900-1930. (Chapel Hill; University of North Carolina Press,
2004), 111.
26
obtain their rightful place in American society, they would have to take it by force.
It would never be freely offered. And so, as members of the old elite retired from
public life or died in this decade, their vision of an integrated, color-blind society
was replaced by a different vision from a group of men who achieved a measure
of success. In many cases these new leaders lacked the culture, education and
refinement of the previous generation. The transition of power within the African
American community became a literal passing of the torch from the genteel elite
to the strident, more militant individuals who lived and worked within the confines
of the legally segregated system. 39
Keeping in mind the unique qualities and specific distinctions that
designated a population called the African American elite, this dissertation
focuses on elite men who labored in the fields of religion, politics and medicine in
the three cities mentioned. All three occupational categories in America attracted
ambitious, intellectual, educated individuals of both races. African American men
who chose these fields had significant opportunities to interact with their white
cohorts in highly public situations. There were opportunities for white and black
elites to cooperate in ways that were egalitarian and mutually beneficial. African
American elites were not political pawns of their white counterparts. They
discussed, cajoled, argued, pressured, compromised and cooperated to attempt
to make their world as color-blind as possible. They sought to transcend race
rather than to cope with racial distinctions. With the optimism of the era they
39
Manliness and its Discontents, 111.
27
believed it was possible. They labored to make it a reality. Ultimately, by the
second decade of the twentieth century, those still alive were faced with the
reality that the equality they had labored a lifetime to achieve would have to wait
for the activists of another generation.
28
Methodology and Historiography
The work of early scholars such as Carter G. Woodson, William E.B.
DuBois, Rayford Logan, John Hope Franklin, E. Franklin Frazier, and others
provided the historical foundation for the study of African American history
beginning in the early decades of the twentieth century through the 1960s. The
first forays into black history were made by weaving the threads of black history
into the conceptualization of American history as it was then understood. As our
understanding of history deepened and the lens through which we viewed it
changed, the approach of historians to that study changed. Instead of examining
history from the traditional top down, scholars began to examine history from the
bottom up. Beginning in the 1970s and continuing into later decades, historians
such as Joe Trotter, Robin D.G.Kelley, Tera Hunter, and Kenneth Kusmer
explored the world of common people, working class people, in specific
geographic locations. Common people collectively shaped the world in which
they lived. As a result of the work of this newer generation of scholars, our
understanding of history deepened. When viewed from the bottom up, scholars
saw a much more nuanced picture of African American life. Rather than simply
being acted upon, ordinary people influenced their specific environment in
extraordinary ways. When these local and regional histories are viewed as a
whole, it is evident that numerous small acts of defiance and courage melded to
29
strongly influence American society as African Americans defied white rule and
segregated society. 40
Straddling the Color Line is a social history with political implications. In
many instances, the understanding of the significance of the lives of the men
studied and their contributions became most apparent when placed in the context
of their personal evolutions. It is political in that one population studied was elite
blacks engaged in electoral politics. The men referred to as the African American
elite, formed a tightly interconnected social network that crisscrossed America in
the decades following Reconstruction. The political power of African Americans
as a whole experienced a rise in power during Reconstruction that quickly
declined during Redemption. However, the African American elite continued to
believe they had the ability to pull the remainder of their race out of oppression
and into its rightful place in American life. Members of the elite did not identify
with ordinary black people. They were educated, sophisticated, relatively affluent
and highly intelligent. Their lifestyle mirrored that of the white elites. They had
egalitarian relationships with powerful white men and in such a way that they
were part of neither white society nor black society. Although they were part of
Rayford W. Logan The Negro in American Life and Thought: The Nadir 1877-1901. (N.Y.: Dial Press,
1954); E. Franklin Frazier Black Bourgeoisie: The Rise of a New Middle Class. N.Y.: Free Press,
1957; A Ghetto Takes Shape; Joe William Trotter, Jr. River Jordan: African American Urban
Life in the Ohio Valley. Lexington, Ky.: University Press of Kentucky, 1998; Tera W. Hunter To
‘joy My Freedom: Southern Black Women’s Lives and Labors After the Civil War. Cambridge,
MA; Harvard University Press, 1997.
40
30
neither world they were expected to interpret and understand both. Their
personal power continued long after the end of Reconstruction.
This dissertation combines elements of political history, social history and
prosopography. Because the focus was on the black elite, and many of the elite
were inherently political, politics was of necessity a central focus to this work.
The black elite were influential men who understood their place in history and left
records for future generations. Even though a few left extensive records of their
lives, the majority did not. It was there that the techniques of social history were
most important. The inclusion of bottom-up history wove together the legacies of
these men and their associates depicting the reality of their everyday lives. Over
time it became possible to flesh out the lives and personalities of the members of
the elite discussed in depth. Patterns of behavior emerged and it became
relatively clear what they thought about particular events even when they left no
clear depictions. Finally, prosopography was employed through the judicious use
of biographical vignettes. The incorporation of brief biographies underscored the
similarities between these elite black men and their white counterparts. By
understanding what events shaped the lives of elite African American men, and
by examining them as complex individuals, it was possible to understand how
they negotiated their unique space in a color-stratified society. Although the everpresent color line imposed an almost impenetrable barrier for the majority of
black citizens, members of the black elite seemed almost immune to those
31
injustices and limitations. To a degree they lived as players in what they believed
was the beginning of a post-racial world.
With this in mind, Straddling the Color Line deserves the designation
revisionist history; however, there are no other existing studies that address
professional and social interactions between black and white elites across the
color line. Here the social and political influence of small but powerful groups of
privileged African American men in three major urban locations provided the
necessary evidence to determine the symbiotic relationships that existed
between them and their white counterparts.
In his original introduction to Negro Thought in America, August Meier
wrote: “…it is the way in which a person’s own individual experience intersects
with trends in the larger social and intellectual milieu, that shapes the social
consciousness and the direction of his/her scholarly research.” This study was
driven by an understanding of and application of the use of social history
(bottom-up) techniques; however, these techniques were applied to a traditional
elite population rather than common men. Through a close examination of the
language and nuanced thinking of black elites, and the ways they communicated
with each other and their white counterparts, it became possible to understand
how they believed they could influence the world in which they lived. 41
The most comprehensive existing study of black elites during the postReconstruction Era was Willard B. Gatewood's Aristocrats of Color. Gatewood
August Meier, Negro Thought in America 1880-1915: Racial Ideologies in the Age of Booker T.
Washington. (Ann Arbor, University of Michigan Press, 1963), iv.
41
32
provided a much needed depiction of the nature of African American elite
communities that emerged in major American cities. According to Gatewood,
members of the black elite were the embodiment of W.E.B. DuBois' "Talented
Tenth." They were the men and women who believed it was their obligation to
serve as role models for African American potential. Gatewood chronicled the
history of the African American elite, but failed to explore the ways in which elite
blacks and whites worked together across the color line for common purposes.
More recently, Lawrence Otis Graham depicted the links between the early elites
and modern upper class blacks. He too failed to explore the intersection between
elites of both races.42
Although historic New Orleans and Charleston have been extensively
studied, there are no examinations of mutually beneficial cooperation between
the races in those locations. One of the most important studies of New Orleans is
John Blassingame’s Black New Orleans, 1860-1880. Blassingame correctly
argues that "blacks gained very few lasting benefits [ in the political area] from
Reconstruction" in New Orleans and that "the role of blacks in New Orleans
politics was distinctive in many ways." Although this is a valuable resource,
Blassingame focused on an earlier period and his work documented the
experience of African Americans rather than an exploration of contacts between
the races. 43
Lawrence Otis Graham Our Kind of People: Inside America’s Black Upper Class (N.Y.: Harper,
1999) Graham, an attorney, created an extraordinary book depicting the black upper class of
today, but it does not show relationships of the era covered by this study.
43 Black New Orleans, 211.
42
33
More recently, Justin A. Nystrom's New Orleans After the Civil War: Race,
Politics and a New Birth of Freedom examined racial "stability" imposed by
powerful whites when they created an effective apartheid in the Crescent City.
Nystrom argued that New Orleans was representative of the South. Nystrom
might have been correct if he had argued that Louisiana was representative of
the Deep South, but the experience of African Americans in the city of New
Orleans was very different than in the rest of the state. This dissertation argues
that the elite African American men who participated in New Orleans society
were not representative of the South as a whole. Nystrom was correct in his
argument that "the large and prosperous free black community in New Orleans
played a pivotal role in the debate over race." However, instead of expanding that
argument to an important conclusion, he failed to show the potential for close
personal and political relationships that existed between that free black
community and their powerful white counterparts. Finally, Nystrom concentrated
on the Reconstruction Era and did not continue into the tumultuous years
examined in this dissertation.44
The African American experience in post-Reconstruction Charleston,
South Carolina, is highly underrepresented in the literature of this period. Walter
J. Fraser, Jr. gave scant attention to African Americans in his exhaustive history
of the city Charleston! Charleston! He failed to examine their significant
contributions to the city and provided no evidence that blacks had any substantial
44
New Orleans After the Civil War, 3-4.
34
influence based on their own achievements. Fraser correctly stated that
"members of the city's free mulatto elite…segregated themselves from the new
freedmen and resumed their prewar connections with the white upper class."
However, he made no effort to explore the ramifications of those connections. 45
Recognizing the lack of published scholarship on South Carolina's African
American history, Bernard E. Powers sought to fill that gap with his work Black
Charlestonians: A Social History 1822- 1885. Powers argued that in South
Carolina, whites were "especially hostile to the political advances made by black
men." Despite the large population of African Americans who lived in Charleston,
the racial climate became particularly virulent there. African Americans were
disfranchised through legal and extra-legal means. Powers correctly argued that
as Jim Crow wrestled political power from African American politicians, members
of the elite shifted their energies to participation as officers in African American
social, religious and fraternal organizations. Leadership roles in private
organizations became nearly as important and influential to their elite status as
electoral politics had been during Reconstruction. Powers correctly noted that
segregation was not a standard practice in Charleston until after the turn of the
twentieth century. At that time, elite African Americans were compelled to live in
a separate and unequal world. They had advantages that the poor did not, but
they were not privy to all the privileges their white counterparts enjoyed. Blacks
45
Charleston! Charleston! 297.
35
and whites lived and worked side by side in that city, but socially they existed in
parallel worlds. 46
In Seizing the New Day: African Americans in Post- Civil War Charleston,
Wilbert L. Jenkins documented the black experience in Reconstruction
Charleston. He argued that the racial patterns which emerged in Charleston were
representative of the urban southern experience. This dissertation agrees that of
the three cities represented here, the patterns that emerged during
Reconstruction in Charleston were the most representative of what has
stereotypically been thought of as the urban southern experience. Charleston,
more than New Orleans or Cleveland, remained mired in antebellum tradition and
did not experience the growth or prosperity that flourished during the beginning of
the twentieth century in the other cities.47
Compared to the southern cities in this study, Cleveland, Ohio exhibited a
dramatically different legacy. Kenneth Kusmer’s A Ghetto Takes Shape; Black
Cleveland 1870-1930 and Kimberly Phillips’ AlabamaNorth: African American
Migrants, Community, and Working Class Activism in Cleveland, 1915-1945 are
the benchmark studies of the African American experience in Cleveland.
Kusmer’s work has long been the definitive work on the establishment of
Cleveland’s segregated society while Phillips masterfully showed the impact of
the Great Migration on Cleveland’s history; but, neither study addressed in any
Bernard E. Powers, Jr. Black Charlestonians: A Social History 1822-1885. (Fayetteville,
Arkansas: University of Arkansas Press, 1994), 6-7; 262.
47 Wilbert L. Jenkins Seizing the New Day: African Americans in Post Civil War Charleston.
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1998).
46
36
detail the questions that drive this dissertation. Kusmer's study was the impetus
for this dissertation. Careful study of his work left many unanswered questions
about race relations in Cleveland. My master's thesis "Straddling the Color Line:
African American Elites in Cleveland 1877- 1915" argued that African Americans
had true power in their own right, not power bestowed by paternalistic whites.
The remainder of the unanswered questions necessitated the inclusion of
southern cities in this dissertation.48
As mentioned above, politicians, physicians and clergymen were
occupations common to black and white elites. Therefore, those professions
became the lenses though which to view interracial relationships in these three
cities. Constitutional amendments enacted during Reconstruction opened doors
that previously precluded African American participation in the political arena. For
this reason, most studies of African American men and electoral politics rightly
focused on the Reconstruction Era. Because political opportunities for African
American men started a measured decline after Reconstruction, few scholars
have delved into the influence of those who survived the demise of
Reconstruction.
Philip Dray's Capitol Men: The Epic Story of Reconstruction Through the
Lives of the First Black Congressmen examined the contributions made by black
Congressmen during Reconstruction. He carefully explored the political lives of
the African American elite while affirming the reality that Reconstruction was truly
Kim M. Carey "Straddling the Color Line: African American Elites in Cleveland 1877- 1915"
(M.A. Theses, Cleveland State University, 1999).
48
37
"a glorious failure." Dray hints at the larger issue of straddling the color line in his
preface where he stated one of the questions that drove his study asking: "Was it
simple race-hatred, a refusal that those low enough to have been slaves should
arise to citizenship …?" In saying that, he inferred that Southern whites hated
blacks so much that they were unable to interact across the color line with any
degree of equality. Although he suggested that the inability to work across the
color line was a meaningful subject for study, he failed to address the issue. 49
Like politics, the field of medicine exerted its influence on all individuals.
Medical services were (and are) a human need; illness and injury do not respect
race or class. Most regional studies of medicine focused on white hospitals.
Services that were extended to people of color were segregated and minimal.
Three relevant studies are Black Physicians in the Jim Crow South, by Thomas
E. Ward Jr.; Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired: Black Women’s Health
Activism in American, 1890-1950 by Susan L. Smith; and Race and Medicine in
Nineteenth- and Early Twentieth- Century America by Todd L. Savitt.
Ward examined members of the black elite in the South and demonstrated
that despite their elite status, they still fell victim to racism. Smith's work is less
relevant here. Her work focused on midwifery and began in 1920. Although it
focused on access to medical care in the South, it was primarily a study of poor
people and their access to health care. Savitt correctly argued that Charleston
physician Alonzo McClennan struggled with race issues and "walked a fine line
Philip Dray, Captiol Men: The Epic Story of Reconstruction Through the Lives of the First
Black Congressmen. (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2008), xiii.
49
38
between speaking out against injustice [while] retaining biracial support for the
black medical enterprises he was developing." 50
Vanessa N. Gamble’s Making a Place for Ourselves: The Black Hospital
Movement 1920-1945 focused on the era beyond the scope of this dissertation.
No monographs exist pertaining to African American physicians, nurses or
hospitals in Cleveland, Charleston or New Orleans. However, a series of
periodicals edited by Alonzo McClennan "The Hospital Herald" published from
1898 -1900 , provide insight into the practice of medicine at the turn of the
twentieth century in Charleston, South Carolina. Clearly, the historiography of
medicine in the African American community is meager. This dissertation
demonstrates the courage of African American physicians in post-Reconstruction
Charleston as they publicly used medical care as a platform to prove their
Victorian manhood in a way that white southerners could understand.
Finally, this study examined the influence elite African American men
exerted as members of the clergy and the extent to which they were able to
influence the larger society in which they lived. The published literature here was
scarce as well. In Black Charlestonians, Powers devoted only one chapter to the
study of the African American church. Studies of leadership among members of
the African American clergy in Cleveland and New Orleans during the designated
era are nonexistent. Kusmer devoted only four pages to the black church in A
Ghetto Takes Shape, but his work was purely descriptive. In Righteous
Savitt, Todd L. Race and Medicine in Nineteenth- and Early Twentieth- Century America
(Kent, OH.: Kent State University Press, 2006), 317.
50
39
Discontent: The Women's Movement in the Black Baptist Church 1880-1920,
Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham closely examined the Black Baptist Convention
movement; however, the scope of her work is focused on women challenging
gender issues with regard to religious institutions. She did not examine how black
members of the clergy related to their white counterparts across the color line.
There are no works addressing the nature of the Catholic Church and its
relationships to elite African American men in the Jim Crow Era. No Cross, No
Crown: Black Nuns in Nineteenth Century New Orleans was an edited volume of
the journal of Sister Mary Bernard Deggs. Although it provided an interesting
view of the constraints and trials suffered by Catholic African American women in
New Orleans, it provides no insight into the relationships of African American
men and their white counterparts across the color line in New Orleans society. 51
Organizationally this dissertation was divided into three major chapters,
one for each of the featured cities. Each chapter contains subsections focusing
on politicians, physicians and clergymen. Chapter one covers Charleston, South
Both Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham, Righteous Discontent : The Women’s Movement in the
Black Baptist Church 1880-1920. (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1994) and Sister
Mary Bernard Deggs, No Cross, No Crown: Black Nuns in Nineteenth-Century New Orleans.
Edited by Virginia Meacham Gould and Charles E Nolan. (Bloomington: Indiana University
Press, 2001.) examine issues of respectability and a desire for recognition by African American
women in a male dominated society. There are a number of volumes that are biographical in
nature that look at various members of the clergy, both black and White. Those were explored for
relevance to this larger work. Catholics in the Old South: Essays on Church and Culture (1983),
edited by Randall M. Miller and Jon L. Wakelyn, focused on the antebellum era. Dorothy Ann
Blatnica's At the Altar of their God: African American Catholics in Cleveland 1922-1961
examined Catholic African Americans beyond the years covered by this study. The Catholic
Church succumbed to the first segregated African American parishes in Cleveland during the
years covered by Blatnica's study. John J. Grabowski's There Are No Strangers at the Feast:
Catholicism and Community in Northeast Ohio was essentially a pictorial diary of the Catholic
Church in Cleveland. The vast majority of historical studies on black churches focused on the
modern civil rights era. Clearly, the subject of African American influence and power in the age of
Jim Crow demands a closer investigation.
51
40
Carolina, settled first during the late seventeenth century. This chapter argues
that despite the optimism elite blacks had in Charleston during Reconstruction,
that city failed to live up to the promises of equality and opportunity they worked
so hard to develop. In the aftermath of the Civil War, Charleston never regained
its importance or prestige for whites or for blacks. Investors found no value in
industrializing the city because farmland was nutritionally depleted and there was
little motivation to restore the plantation economy without slaves to provide the
labor. African Americans demonstrated significant political influence in
Charleston during Reconstruction, but in the wake of Redemption there was a
steady and dramatic decline in that influence. The first decades of the twentieth
century allowed a very few elite black men the opportunity to exert limited power,
but far less than in New Orleans or Cleveland.52
Chapter two focused on New Orleans, Louisiana first settled in the second
decade of the eighteenth century. Unlike Charleston, New Orleans was slower to
develop as a major city but more quickly recovered in the aftermath of the Civil
War. By 1880, the population of New Orleans was more than four times larger
than that of Charleston. In that year, Charleston was the thirty-sixth largest city in
the United States while New Orleans was the tenth largest city. In the aftermath
of Reconstruction New Orleans had fewer black elected officials than Charleston
but more political influence at the national level. This dissertation argues that
there was a greater acceptance of racial diversity and influence in New Orleans
52
Charleston! Charleston!, 1-19; 276-301; 307-368.
41
because of the multicultural heritage in that city. The multicultural and bilingual
history of New Orleans was peculiar in the American South. The diversity evident
there was not representative of Louisiana as a whole and as a result, race
relations were unique in the Crescent City.53
The final chapter focused on Cleveland, Ohio. Like Charleston and New
Orleans, Cleveland was also a port city. Founded last, in the final years of the
eighteenth century, Cleveland was a new-comer to the national scene. Although
it had a later start, location made Cleveland an important city in the expanding
nation. In terms of population, Cleveland was initially in between Charleston and
New Orleans ranking in 1880 as the eleventh largest city, but with fifty thousand
fewer people than New Orleans. This dissertation argues that because the
overall black population was small, there were far more opportunities for elite
blacks and less racism toward blacks in Cleveland than in southern cities. White
people were more likely to accept the talents and abilities of individual African
Americans in Cleveland because the class bias of the master-slave relationship
did not exist . Elite African American men were recognized for their contributions
and abilities in Cleveland until the Great Migration of the twentieth century
brought many thousands of uneducated blacks to the North in search of
employment.54
Finally, this dissertation argues that the "nadir" for elite African Americans
did not begin at the end of Reconstruction. In reality the onset depended on
53
54
1880 U.S. Census.
1880 U.S. Census; A Ghetto Takes Shape, 1-52; 157-173.
42
location. There was a gradual decline in civil rights and in the power of the
African American elite following the inauguration of President Rutherford B.
Hayes, but black elites maintained significant influence until the end of the
nineteenth century and into the first two decades of the twentieth. Indeed, the
nadir for elites born in the 1850s and 1860s began only in earnest during the
twentieth century. It was then that the political and social influence of black elites
who had formed national networks of relationships across the color line ceased
to exist. Members of the black elite envisioned a post-racial world and believed
they were on the cusp of that new reality. During the 1920s, those referred to as
the "New Negroes" claimed the positions once held by members of the old elite.
It was during that time that the reality of the nadir became obvious to men who
had previously served as the liaisons between the black world and the white.
They had become old men, and their ways were the old ways. The bond between
the elites of the races was broken; cooperation ceased; and conflict became the
new reality.55
55 Negro in American Life, 52. Logan defines the nadir as 1877-1901. Those dates do not reflect
the lowest point in race relations. James Loewen defines the nadir as 1890-1940. I argue that the
onset of the Nadir is dependent on location. James W. Loewen Sundown Towns: A Hidden
Dimension of American Racism. (N.Y.: The New Press, 2005), 33-36. William Pickens, The New
Negro: His Political, Civil and Mental Status and Related Essays (N.Y.: Neale Publishing
Company 1916; reprint N.Y.: AMS Press,1969.) This is a series of essays defining what it means to
be a "New Negro."
The Social and Political influence of Elite African American
Politicians, Clergy and Physicians in Charleston, South Carolina
Introduction
Charleston was a major port city in colonial British North America.
Charleston remained one of the most important cities in America until the Civil
War. From its inception, Charleston existed as a slave society. Because slavery
was so integral to the economy, the peculiar institution shaped the worldview of
Charlestonians until well into the twentieth century. Charleston was an
international port city with a large slave population and unhealthy living
conditions. The first British ships sailed into Charleston harbor in the spring of
1670 and within two years they established a bustling settlement. It would not be
until the 1690s that the first Europeans arrived in New Orleans and it would take
several decades before construction of a city began. These two southern cities
evolved in dramatically different ways and as a result, the lives of the black elite
during the post-Reconstruction era in each city evolved differently.56
Walter J. Frasier, Jr. Charleston! Charleston! The History of a Southern City.(Columbia,
University of South Carolina Press, 1991) 1. Ira Berlin, Many Thousands Gone: The First Two
Centuries of Slavery in North America. (Cambridge, MA.: Harvard University Press, 1998) 10;
228.
56
43
44
In Charleston, most of the white residents spoke English and for the
most part the religious preference of the region was Protestant. The first church,
an Anglican Church, St. Philips, was built in 1683. Other denominations soon
followed. Although there was a Roman Catholic presence in the city during the
1680s, residents who chose to worship in that manner “probably took great pains
to disguise their religious preference.” For Protestant British colonists living in
Charleston, the practice of the Catholic faith equated with Spanish tradition.
During the late seventeenth century, Spain and Britain had an adversarial
relationship, particularly in the American South. Fear of Spanish attacks in the
region translated into animosity toward the local Catholic Church. Following the
Revolutionary War and the establishment of a new nation, religious tolerance
emerged. By 1791, a Roman Catholic Church incorporated and formed the
congregation of St. Mary's in Charleston. 57
The African Methodist Episcopal Church also had an early
presence in the city. In 1818, the Reverend Morris Brown helped organize the
first A.M.E. Church in Charleston based on the model created several years
earlier in Philadelphia. Brown’s congregation grew rapidly numbering over 3,000
before it was abolished by fearful whites in the wake of the 1822 Denmark Vesey
rebellion. Unlike New Orleans where the strongest religious tradition was Roman
57
Charleston! Charleston!, 11, 179.
45
Catholic, in Charleston numerous Protestant congregations had the most
influence.58
It was within the context of these complex political and religious
conditions that the elite free black community developed in Charleston, South
Carolina, before the Civil War. After Reconstruction, they lived relatively separate
lives from the remainder of the blacks. As businessmen and skilled craftsmen,
they also lived lives separate from poor and middle class whites. Black elites in
Charleston interacted with black elites from other cities. This chapter argues that
elite blacks in Charleston did not derive power from their association with white
people. They garnered social and political power from their own efforts. The
social structure of their society was unique to Charleston, but they had close
personal and professional ties to elite Charleston whites and blacks as well and
influential people throughout America.
Black politicians in South Carolina were relatively influential until
the onset of the twentieth century but at that time their influence quickly waned
as white Democrats wrested power from black and white Republicans.
Physicians and clergymen remained influential longer than politicians in
Charleston. Dr. Alonzo McClennan exhibited significant power and personal
bravery in the aftermath of the lynching of the Lake City, South Carolina,
postmaster. 59
58
59
Charleston! Charleston!, 200.
New York Times, February 23, 1898.
46
Show me a negro who knows Greek syntax and I
will believe that he is a human being and should
be treated like a man
----John C. Calhoun60
One factor that set Charleston apart from New Orleans and
Cleveland was the overall population demographic. Charleston was by far the
smallest city of the three cities covered in this study. Although it was the first
established, its economic growth did not keep pace over time with the other two
cities. Charleston was devastated during the Civil War and never regained its
prominence as a center of business and industry. Not only was Charleston
substantially smaller than the other cities, but comparatively it had the largest
black population of the three. In 1880, Charleston was a city of nearly 50,000
people, almost 26,000 were black. This relative numerical superiority led to the
development of interesting social dynamics.61
Edmund L. Drago, Charleston's Avery Center: From Education and Civil Rights to Preserving
the African American Experience revised edition( Charleston: History Press, 2006), 19.
61 U.S. Census, 1880. In 1887, William Simmons wrote in Men of Mark; South Carolina sent more
[black] Congressmen to Washington than any other state.” Simmons, p. 466. Although six blacks
had been sent to Washington from S.C. by 1887, the number of blacks serving the nation as a
whole was so small that their power was minimal. Nevertheless, they were a presence in a world
dominated by whites and as a result they had no choice but to straddle the color line if they
wished to accomplish any good during their tenure.
60
47
In his observation of historic Charleston, Willard Gatewood wrote: “the
aristocrats of color in Charleston, South Carolina, more than anywhere else in
the South, even in New Orleans, had a reputation for snobbery and colorphobia
that persisted well into the twentieth century.” Gatewood based his statement
largely on the writings of historians Bernard Powers, Asa Gordon and Marina
Wikramanayake. Although Gatewood and the others are correct in highlighting
the closed society in which the elite lived, they are incorrect in their assessment
that the divide was primarily based on color. It is true that color was a factor, and
that many members of the elite married the lightest skinned partners they could
find; however, there was far more to their discrimination than simply color. What
was most important to members of the elite was that their potential spouse had
the correct genealogical pedigree. It was vital that they were part of the best and
most influential families of the city. Therefore, their elitism was based more on
class consciousness than pigment consciousness. It was conceivable that a
person could have darker skin and still be a member of the elite class. Of utmost
importance to Charleston’s black elite was refinement, culture and the striving for
increased status in society. The higher one’s status, the more potential one had
to rise to the top of society and to exert influence within the city and beyond. If an
individual just happened to have pale skin, so much the better. Skin color was
favored by members of the elite; however, the ability to effectively conduct
48
business with others of the same or similar social class was by far the most
important factor.62
Many of the black men who claimed political power in Charleston
during Reconstruction had been free before the Civil War. Most were literate and
some had significant leadership experience in religious and benevolent
organizations before they exercised their abilities in the political sphere. Others
rose to prominence as a result of their activities during the Civil War. Robert
Smalls, for example, honed his skills in both arenas. Prior to the Civil War, while
still enslaved living in Charleston, Smalls participated secretly in seven
benevolent organizations. He publicly displayed his courage and leadership
abilities for the first time in May 1862 by commandeering the Confederate ship
Planter, and turning it over to Union forces, thereby earning a commission in the
United States Navy. Smalls’ military experience translated directly into the
political arena during and after Reconstruction when he went on to serve as an
elected member of the South Carolina legislature and the United States
Congress. 63
Aristocrats of Color, 80. The population of the free African American community in Charleston
continued to whiten because members of the elite married other members of the elite. Over time,
the lightly pigmented skin of the elites became the norm rather than the exception among
members of the African American elite. We cannot say that intermarriage among light skinned
people of color determined the social status of the population. Some children had darker skin
than either of their parents and this did not preclude them from membership in the elite social
class. They were from a family that had a history as a member of the elite class and so they were
accepted regardless of the shade of their skin. There were also exceptions to this rule of color
stratification and genealogical pedigree with regard to acceptance into the elite class. Civil War
hero, Robert Smalls, was born a slave, was not light skinned, and yet was an accepted member of
the black elite. He had a distinguished career in politics. His accomplishments were more
important than color.
63 Black Charlestonians, 19, 170; p. 232; Charleston! Charleston!, 258, 272.
62
49
Smalls was not a puppet politician under the influence of whites.
When delegates met for a constitutional convention in South Carolina in 1895,
Smalls went prepared to defend the rights of blacks in his home state against an
onslaught of racism from Senator Benjamin Tillman. Tillman had just traded his
role as South Carolina's governor for a seat in the United States Senate.
Politically, the most powerful man in South Carolina, Tillman effectively
"controlled the convention". He believed that African American participation in
government had imposed great hardship on the state and he was intent on
making changes. 64
Smalls was one of the African Americans serving as delegates at
the convention each representing "districts so overwhelmingly black that even
Tillman had not managed to expunge these men…" Despite their small numbers,
there was no criticism that Tillman and his followers could make that Smalls and
his associates could not rebut. By 1895, Smalls had decades of public service to
the nation he loved. His loyalty, courage and sacrifice could not be questioned.65
During the convention, Democrats proposed laws forbidding racial
intermarriage and "sought to establish codes of punishment" for infractions of the
proposed law. In response, Smalls "counterproposed an amendment stating that
any white person caught in cohabitation with a black person should be barred
from holding public office and that any offspring from such a union should bear
64 Philip Dray, Capitol Men: The Epic Story of Reconstruction Through the Lives of the First
Black Congressmen, ( Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2008), 338.
65 Capitol Men, 338.
50
the father's name." Clearly Smalls' aimed his counterproposal at hypocritical
white politicians who demanded one type of behavior yet practiced another. In a
lengthy address to the convention Smalls justified his reasoning for such an
amendment by saying that white "women were good and he wanted the [white]
men to be" as well. Reporters from the Columbia State newspaper commented
on the politically savvy move by Smalls writing: "The coons had the dogs up the
tree for a change." As expected, Smalls counterproposal proved unsuccessful,
but his words had the desired impact in that the convention was forced to debate
a sensitive issue and the possible consequences of such actions.66
The African American delegates had virtually no influence at the
convention in 1895, but Smalls would not be bullied into submission. Although he
could not sway the racist participants from creating laws that would restrict the
freedoms of those he represented, Smalls would not rubber-stamp the laws
proposed. When he refused to sign the constitution, he was threatened by
another member of the body who said "his travel expenses would not be paid if
he did not affix his signature." Smalls replied that he would prefer to walk than
sign such a discriminatory document. Following that statement, he left the
convention.67
There was little spirit of interracial cooperation at the convention,
but the African Americans who were there refused to be dominated by powerful
66 Edward A. Miller, Jr. Gullah Statesman: Robert Smalls from Slavery to Congress, 1839-1915.
(Columbia, University of South Carolina Press, 1995) p.205; Capitol Men, p.342; Quote from
Columbia State, October 4, 1895 in Capitol Men, 342.
67 Capitol Men, 343.
51
white politicians. Had their political power been based on paternalism, Smalls
and his cohort would simply have catered to the demands made on them by
powerful whites. They were simply unwilling to comply with such demands.
Smalls knew he was the intellectual equal of all those present and he was
convinced that he was morally superior to most. Newspapers throughout America
reported Smalls role at the convention and he was gratified when people cheered
his courage and eloquence. In one paper an editorial extolled Smalls' " 'brilliant
moral victory,' [ saying] white anxiety about blacks in politics 'is not born so much
of regard for their numbers as their intellectual ability. It is not Negro ignorance
but Negro intelligence that is being feared'." The racial line, in this instance, was
firmly drawn. Both sides stood glaring at each other across an impenetrable
divide. Tillman and his supporters wanted complete and utter submission. Blacks
in South Carolina would not voluntarily revert to re-enslavement. Some
spectators, including members of the press, were fully aware that it was
competence, not incompetence, that Tillman and his supporters feared. Tillman
feared having his racial theories disproved by Smalls and other black
politicians.68
Soon after the convention, Smalls campaigned for the Republican
Party and William McKinley's presidential bid. He served as an at-large delegate
to the Republican Convention held in June 1896 at St. Louis, Missouri. Nine
Capitol Men, 342; quote from Smalls : New York Press, October 5,1895, in Mary J. Miller,
Constitutional Convention: The Part Taken by Colored Orators in their Fight for a Fair, Impartial
Ballot, 24-25; From Slavery to Public Service: Robert Smalls, 1839-1915. (N.Y.: Oxford
University Press, 1971), 219
68
52
hundred and twenty-four delegates were present at the national convention and
only sixty-six were African American. It was impossible to ignore the dwindling
numbers of influential African Americans in the Grand Old Party, but Smalls and
the others refused to give up hope. They truly believed the decline was
temporary and that their fortunes would soon reverse.69
Following his years in elected office, Smalls served for more than
twenty years as Collector of Customs in nearby Beaufort, South Carolina. These
final years of service were in a patronage position; a reward for service to the
Republican party and to his country. During his time of military service, his years
as a politician, and as Collector of Customs Smalls had the opportunity to work
closely with white people. As a black officer in command of a U.S. Naval vessel
he had to interact with his white superior officers and with people of both races
who served under him. Later in his role as a state and federal legislator, Smalls
had to negotiate the complicated terrain of race relations in the New South as he
worked to pass laws that would serve the needs of constituents while still passing
the scrutiny of the white legislators from other districts. Finally, in his capacity of
Collector of Customs he had to work within the predominantly white federal
bureaucracy to carry out the tasks of his office. A white man would simply have
assumed an air of authority. Smalls could not approach his duties with the same
demeanor exhibited by a white man. He had to command respect from those he
supervised while remaining cognizant of his place as a black man in post-
69
Captiol Men, 343.
53
Reconstruction Charleston. He served admirably for two decades in a position
that demanded an eye for detail and respect from those he supervised. Robert
Smalls transcended the complexities of the terrain of race in a way that few
former slaves could have conceived. 70
As might be expected, Booker T. Washington championed Robert
Smalls' cause to powerful people within the Republican Party. Soon after Smalls
was finally removed from office as Collector of Customs in 1913, Washington
received a letter of regret from a former Secretary of the United States Treasury,
Robert MacVeagh. MacVeagh expressed his profound sympathies to
Washington for Smalls' termination stating that "he took for granted that [Smalls
was] …going to be permitted to hold this office all [his] life, as should have been
the case."71
Booker T. Washington immediately replied to MacVeagh stating
that "The colored people are very much disappointed and almost embittered
because of the displacement of Robert Smalls…The white people look upon him
as a kind of a godfather, and there is not the slightest trace of bitterness against
him because of the office he has held for so many years." For many people,
Smalls' lifetime of public service placed him in a category that allowed him to
transcend racial stereotypes. However, for strident white racists, all African
Beaufort, South Carolina is about 70 miles south of Charleston.
Correspondence from Booker T. Washington to Robert Smalls, April 17, 1913. Smalls lived for
two years after his final removal from office. He died in 1915. In the early twentieth century there
was no pension plan for government employees. When Robert Smalls lost his position as
Collector of Customs he had no secure income on which to live for his final years.
70
71
54
Americans were cut of one cloth. They had to be eliminated from positions of
power and authority as soon as such actions could be engineered.72
As was so often the case, Washington pushed where he could
against the forces of the white political bureaucracy that tossed crumbs of
patronage toward blacks who deserved recognition by the Republican Party they
so loyally served. There seemed no dispute that Smalls was qualified to hold the
position or that he was acceptable to many whites within the city of Charleston.
What prompted Smalls' removal was a change in political administrations. When
Democratic President Woodrow Wilson took office, the Republican Collector of
Customs Robert Smalls was one casualty of the transition. It was not at all
unusual for Republican operatives to be replaced with their Democratic
counterparts when the White House changed parties. It was merely a sign of the
times that a black Republican collector of customs would lose his position to a
Democrat. Although there were a few blacks in the South who supported the
Democratic Party, their numbers were not large enough to warrant consideration
by the newly elected President Woodrow Wilson. There were many in Charleston
who were dismayed to see Smalls displaced; black Republicans were even more
incensed that he was not replaced by another African American. Such
displeasure was of little importance to the Democratic Party as they sought to
whiten the governmental bureaucracy.73
72
73
Booker T. Washington to Robert MacVeagh, April 17, 1913.
Booker T. Washington to Robert MacVeagh, April 17, 1913.
55
Thomas E. Miller was another member of the black elite, a longtime resident of Charleston and a contemporary of Robert Smalls. Miller was
born free in Beaufort County, South Carolina, and moved north to Charleston
with his family in 1851 while still an infant. He attended a private school in
Charleston but went to college in the North following the Civil War. Returning to
his home state after the war, he earned a law degree from South Carolina
College. Miller was admitted to the bar and his first political experience was in the
capacity of school commissioner. Later he served in the South Carolina House of
Representatives, the South Carolina Senate and in the United States House of
Representatives from South Carolina’s Seventh District. Following his tenure in
public service, Miller was the first president of the Colored Normal, Industrial,
Agricultural, and Mechanical College of South Carolina in Orangeburg from
1896-1911.74
Although Miller was born free and Booker T. Washington was born
enslaved, the two men had similar perspectives and philosophies. For that
reason, some of the criticisms that were leveled at Washington by scholars were
also applied to Miller. In Black Carolinians, historian I.A. Newby wrote: “Like
many educated black Carolinians, Miller was both optimistic and conservative in
his attitude toward racial policy…Miller believed Black Carolinians would advance
only as they overcame their own deficiencies.” Newby equated such thinking by
Miller as evidence of a flaw in Miller’s character; he believed it was evidence that
74
Dictionary of American Negro Biography, 439.
56
Miller was complicit with whites who were attempting to repress ordinary African
Americans in the post-Reconstruction era. Newby’s belief was extremely
common in the revisionist writing that sought to undermine the contributions of
Reconstruction era black elites. Beginning in the 1970s, as the Civil Rights
movement ushered in the discipline of Social History, academic revisionists
argued that the work of the elites emulated whites in the hope that their behavior
would transcend race and make them acceptable to white Americans. The elites
were simply looking out for themselves; they were busy amassing riches and
power. In so doing, they collaborated with whites who sought to oppress the
black masses. The critics of the black elites believed that instead of working to
free blacks from white oppression, elite blacks aided the oppression of the poor
in order to maintain their own elite status. In grappling to gain a new truth, some
historians threw out all of the old ideas of the importance of black elites and
started anew. While there is much to be learned from studying the common man,
it is important to not neglect those who struggled to lift others as they rose
through the ranks in society. Thomas Miller was one such individual. He firmly
believed that all people had the obligation to earn their place in society. He
believed that “[s]alvation for the race lay in working hard, becoming useful
citizens and accumulating material goods.” He believed that white people had
prospered in that manner and that black people would as well.75
I. A. Newby, Black Carolinians: A History of Blacks in South Carolina from 1895 to 1968.
(Columbia, University of South Carolina Press, 1973) 110.
75
57
This idea of hard work mirrors the ideas espoused by Booker T.
Washington and Newby is critical of this approach. He is scornful of the
curriculum espoused by the school that Miller led and others like it (such as
Tuskegee). Newby complains that Miller, and others, believed that the way to
become successful was to emulate white Americans; to study the same material
and beat them at their own game. In fact Newby is so critical that he wondered
why an educated black “should study the same curriculum, learn the same things
and think the same thoughts [as white students did]…black history and culture
were not studied…[a]pparently not a single student in black Carolina had an
opportunity to take a course in African studies during this period.”76
It is well to wonder why African studies were not provided, but it is
certainly an anachronism to think they should have been provided in the
nineteenth century. A college education of that era was one of classical studies.
An educated person was expected to master a common body of knowledge and
was expected to match wits with one’s peers (others of similar social and
academic attainment) in society. In demanding an education equivalent to whites,
black leaders were attempting to bridge the racial gap in society that was created
by a total lack of education for blacks. At the time, an equivalent education was
the appropriate solution to inequality. Their education was not a surrender to
white society. In demanding the same education for black students, elite men like
76Black
Carolinians, 111. Miller was the first president of the Colored Normal, Industrial,
Agricultural, and Mechanical College of South Carolina. As a member of the South Carolina
House of Representatives Miller lobbied for the creation of the school and he resigned his office to
become president.
58
Miller were providing a way for their people to climb the same ladder that whites
had always been allowed to climb. Miller did not advocate a parallel ladder or a
separate ladder. He wanted individuals to compete equally. Members of the elite
believed that qualified black men would attain equality by playing on a level
playing field with common tools and rules. He believed that the road to success
for immigrants of any race was through the educational system because
education was the great equalizer in America.77
Although Miller believed in inclusion, he was also a realist. By the postWorld War I Era, it was clear that the idea of integration was a lost cause in
South Carolina. Miller began to accept the reality of life in the New South. In
1919, members of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored
People in Charleston rallied black residents of the city in response to the horrific
race riots that broke out there and in other major American cities. Because of his
status as a former legislator and as a college president, prominent black citizens
tasked Thomas Miller with leadership of a delegation to present a petition to a
governmental committee. That petition requested that South Carolina pass a law
demanding that only black teachers be allowed to teach in schools that catered
to black children. Five thousand African Americans in Charleston signed the
petition. The names on this petition represented nearly seventy-five percent of
The Published Report of Harvard College and Reports of the Departments from 1900 stated
that all applicants for Harvard Medical school would now be required to complete "a degree in
Arts, Literature, Philosophy or Science" to qualify for admission. This was considered an
appropriate academic preparation for graduate education. A curriculum comparable to this
standard is what Miller advocated. Annual Report of the President and the Treasurer of Harvard
College, 1900-1901.(Cambridge, MA.: Harvard University, 1902), 88.
77
59
the black families in Charleston. Beginning in the fall of 1920, the education of
black children was turned over to black teachers in Charleston. 78
It is likely that this petition campaign by black Charlestonians succeeded
because it did not require compromise on the part of white citizens. It reinforced
the segregation that had been imposed by whites. Although it further divided the
races it could also be seen as a success for black leaders. They advocated the
demands of their community and the outcome was one that they desired. It
required black leaders to engage with white leaders on neutral ground to work
out a compromise that was satisfactory to both sides. Initially these changes did
not substantially change the curriculum in the schools. That was never the
intention. Elite blacks had no complaint with the curriculum; only that they be
allowed professional opportunities commensurate with their education in service
of their children. Here again, it was not the content of the education rather it was
the reinforcement of positive role models for black children. Qualified black
educators instructing black children showed what was attainable through
concentrated effort and diligence. The members of the black elite were not
seeking exclusivity; they wanted to be acknowledged as successful, educated
citizens of America.
William Demos Crum was another black educator from Charleston who
played a significant political role during the post-Reconstruction era. Crum served
78 Black Carolinians, 158-9. The summer of 1919 was known as the Red Summer. During that
summer race riots broke out in cities all over America. Charleston's riot took place on May 10,
1919. As one of the prominent African Americans in the city, Thomas Miller was an active
participant in seeking solutions to end the violence.
60
first as a teacher and later as a trustee on the board of the Avery Normal Institute
in Charleston. Born in 1859, as a free person of color in Charleston, Crum
epitomized the black aristocracy. In appearance Crum “resembled a ’German
burgher,’ [he] read French literature, spoke some German, attended the theater
dressed as well as any man in Charleston and lived in a better style than most of
them.” He trained to be a medical doctor and was actively involved in the
Hospital and Training School begun by Dr. Alonzo McClennan. While his medical
career will be discussed later, it is important here to note how members of the
elite played roles in society that spanned from one sphere to another.79
Wearing the hat of educator, Crum had ample opportunity to interact with
influential whites in Charleston. He was an influential advisor to Booker T.
Washington and he was highly active in Republican Party politics serving as a
delegate to the Republican National Conventions for two decades. In his political
capacity he interacted with powerful whites in Charleston as well as nationally.
Historian Rayford Logan described Crum’s political career using the literary
analogy of the “tragic mulatto” stating that Crum ultimately became a political
pawn as Republican influence dwindled in the South. Although scholars will
certainly understand the image of a tragic mulatto, it is a disservice to label
William Crum with that negative stereotype. Logan argued that Crum was a
political pawn because of the divisiveness during the confirmation hearings for
his nomination for the position of Collector of Customs for the Port of Charleston,
79
Aristocrats of Color, 81.
61
South Carolina. President Theodore Roosevelt's nomination pitted racist white
Charlestonians led by Senator Benjamin Tillman against those throughout the
nation who approved of Crum’s appointment. At the time of his nomination Crum
was already serving in the position under a temporary commission. Each side
argued a position that epitomized the racial strife of the era. White Democratic
Tillmanites fought to keep Crum out of office while many Republicans of both
races argued that Crum was qualified and there was no reason he should not be
appointed.80
By virtue of his nomination, Crum became the subject of the dispute;
hence the designation of the tragic mulatto. The controversy began when a wellrespected, well-educated man was put in the middle of a political tug of war as
each side fought to extend its power and influence. Nationally, blacks and some
whites believed that Crum deserved the political appointment in reward for many
years of diligent service to the Republican Party. He was legitimately qualified to
hold the position. Racist white southerners stated that it was inappropriate for a
black man, even one who was qualified and light-skinned, to supervise the work
of white female clerks in a federal office. Each side believed in the validity of its
argument and neither side would relinquish control of the strongly contested
80 Official Proceedings of the Eleventh Republican National Convention, St. Louis, 1896, 72-73;
Rayford W. Logan and Michael R. Winston, Dictionary of American Negro Biography. (N.Y.:
W.W. Norton and Company, 1982) ,144. Black Charlestonians, p. 160; Crum served as a delegate
to the Republican National Convention from 1884- 1904.
62
patronage position. It was this bitter controversy that placed Crum in the role of
political pawn.81
The battle to get Crum affirmed extended far beyond the borders of the
state of South Carolina. The headline on the front page of the Cleveland Journal
May 21, 1904, proclaimed:
ORGANIZATION,
-------------Prominent Men From Over the
State Meet in Columbus to
Effect One---George A.
Meyers (sic) Presides and
Delivers Opening
Address
At the time of Crum's confirmation debate, George A. Myers was a
member of the Ohio Republican Party Executive Committee. Along with other
prominent Ohio Republicans, Myers convened a meeting in the council chamber
at the Ohio state capital in Columbus. After calling the meeting to order, Myers
addressed the assembly. Setting the stage for his comments to follow Myers
remarked, "I do not mean to insinuate that all colored men in Ohio are in accord
In an era where the spoils system was the norm, political operatives were often nominated for
patronage positions in reward for their service. Based on that reasoning, and his education,
William Crum deserved the appointment. In an era where many political operatives were
nominated solely on their service, Crum had the advantage of being qualified for the position for
which he was nominated.
81
63
with the republican party (sic) upon all public questions: colored men are not
unlike white men; there are the same differences among them." Myers discussed
the importance of the Fifteenth Amendment to the Constitution and its
importance to the debate. He commended President Theodore Roosevelt for his
willingness to nominate William D. Crum for the position of Collector of Customs.
Myers reiterated what everyone in the room knew, that "Dr. Crum has now
become almost a national issue and we in Ohio are equally interested." Myers
then reminded those in attendance "…both of our [Ohio] senators are with us and
for Dr. Crum, Senator Foraker being committed in writing and Senator Dick in
person."82
Myers urged the men in attendance to take action to insure Crum's
affirmation saying" From the personality of the men I see before me, I know that
we can succeed; the crying need of the hour is for men who do things; men of
action; men of integrity; such as I know you to be." He pled, he cajoled, he
encouraged the men in attendance to lobby their friends in other states and to
right the wrongs that were perpetrated by those who wished Crum would go
down in defeat. Myers believed it was wrong for the nomination of Crum to fall to
defeat. Had Crum been unqualified, he would not have been nominated. Had he
been unworthy of the office, George A. Myers would not have put his reputation
on the line. But Myers was a man of principles and he demanded that the other
Cleveland Journal (Cleveland, OH.), May 21, 1904. George A. Myers was a prominent African
American from Cleveland. Myers schooled his listeners regarding the importance of the Fifteenth
Amendment which guaranteed the right of all male citizens over the age of twenty-one years a
voice in the electoral process.
82
64
men in the room should hold Congress accountable to take the honorable
course. 83
To insure that those in the room recognized the seriousness of the
moment, Myers reminded them, "Civil and political rights are not the issues of
campaigns right now. Human rights have been subordinated and practical politics
and subterfuges have been substituted." It was indicative of Myers' thinking to
reflect on the issue of human rights. Crum was a member of the elite. Myers
believed elites should be treated as privileged members of society. Crum was
qualified. He was part of a group that Myers believed should transcend racial
issues and therefore Myers was strident in his approach to the people in
attendance. This was not a group of African Americans he was addressing. It
was a mixed race group of prominent Republicans. The process to win approval
for Dr. Crum began in March 1903. Finally, the United States Senate confirmed
Crum for the position in January 1905. It took the divided United States
government nearly two years to approve the confirmation of a man to a position
for which he was qualified, simply because of his race. 84
Both before and after his confirmation Crum straddled the color line in
Charleston in the service of his country and his race. As a member of the African
American elite representing the talented tenth, he was often called upon by both
races to lend an aura of respectability and authenticity to any endeavor that
Cleveland Journal, May 21, 1904.
Cleveland Journal, May 21, 1904. George A. Myers was a Republican Party operative
instrumental in Ohio and national politics for many years. His political influence will be discussed
in greater depth in chapter three.
83
84
65
called for biracial support. When a goal was not achieved or if rights were
repressed, critics found it easy to blame the elites for misdeeds or incompetency.
Some scholars criticize Crum and other members of the elite because black
rights were not advanced in a linear fashion. In retrospect it is easy to charge
members of the elite with Uncle Tomism when compromise with whites did not
provide the anticipated benefit. Members of the African American elite did not
have a road map to assure racial progress and equality. When Crum was
nominated for the position of Collector of Customs by President Roosevelt,
blacks heralded the appointment as proof that the Republican president was
willing to accept qualified black men into government service. At the time, black
elites believed Crum's appointment documented evidence of racial progress.
When examining the event from the perspective of the post-Civil Rights era,
some might label Crum a pawn, but a more accurate reading of the events might
be that he was pragmatic. Crum accepted the appointment and served honorably
for six years proving that an educated black man was capable of serving
successfully and that race was not a marker that defined employment capability.
Members of the black elite saw the Senate's reluctance to confirm appointments
of black nominees as a ploy used by white obstructionists; an attempt to maintain
control of a majority black population in regions where they had no legitimate way
to accomplish such goals.
85
"Uncle Tomism" refers to African American men who were subservient to white Americans.
Frederick Douglass faced a similar dilemma when he was removed from his position as a federal
marshal and named to the post of recorder of deeds. Douglass believed it was far more important
85
66
Crum and other members of the black elite accepted political
appointments because of the prestige that accompanied those appointments.
They believed they were qualified to serve at the highest levels of federal service
and they also believed that if whites observed blacks performing successfully in
high visibility positions, white fears of black incompetence would be alleviated.86
The ability to successfully straddle the color line required tact, political
astuteness, and enormous diplomacy. The fact that men like Crum were able to
perceive the complicated nuances of race and class and that they were able to
maintain the balancing act sometimes for years at a time attests to the duality or
two-ness of which William E.B. DuBois spoke. Members of the elite were
characterized by whites as black. Members of the black elite did not deny their
blackness. Some could have passed for white but chose instead to accept the
racial designation imposed upon them and used their talents to work within the
system. Race did not appear to be the defining characteristic of their identity.
They identified as part of the elite and closely associated with members of the
elite of both races. For them class was a far more important marker than race. It
was incumbent upon them to uphold the status of their place in society, to
deserve trust and honor bestowed upon them.87
to have qualified African American men serving in federal positions than it was to acknowledge
that he had been demoted by being assigned to a lesser position.
86 N.Y. Times, January 7, 1905. History has proven Crum and others correct in their assumptions;
however, the realization that educated African Americans could perform successfully took nearly
a century longer than they originally anticipated.
87 William .E.B. DuBois Souls of Black Folk (Chicago: A.C. McClurg & Co.,1903) . Here DuBois
discussed the idea of "twoness". His idea of twoness: "An American, a Negro; two souls, two
thoughts… " epitomized the internal conflict experienced by members of the elite as they
67
Clergymen who were part of the black elite in Charleston believed they
could transcend race because of their social status and their occupations.
Because their religious calling challenged them to serve God, their congregations
and less fortunate members of their race, they held the public trust and
confidence in a way that ordinary members of society could not. This public role
provided them access to people and places unavailable to others.
On Easter Sunday in 1865, the day following the death of President
Abraham Lincoln, a small group of elite African Americans in Charleston joined
together for a worship service. Immediately following the worship service, which
they held in borrowed quarters, the men formed a new religious congregation
named St. Mark’s Episcopal Church. Following democratic procedures, a
process with which they were fully familiar, they elected officers to manage the
affairs of the new church. Included in this group were members of the Holloway,
McKinlay, Bennett and DeReef families; some of the most influential free African
American families in the city. They were also members of the Brown Fellowship
Society.88
To fully understand the religious nature of the elite black community
in Charleston, one must also understand their social organizations. The Brown
Fellowship Society, a highly exclusive social and benevolent organization, was
struggled to define their place in American society. On one hand, they thought race was an
irrelevant category. At the same time, they were constantly reminded that racial boundaries
existed. Some elites had the luxury of ignoring race particularly when engaging with peers in their
professional lives. Others were constantly reminded of the limitations that race imposed on them.
88 History of St. Marks Church, website of St. Marks Church,
http://www.saintmarkschurch.com/2501.html
Accessed July 7, 2010; Gatewood, 291.
68
organized on November 1, 1790, in Charleston. At its inception, the exclusive
nature of the organization prevented most African Americans from participation.
Membership was limited to free blacks and was by invitation only. Moreover, the
number of participants was limited to fifty. New members could only be added by
the withdrawal or death of existing members. Generally, invitations for
membership were extended only to family members or close associates of
existing members. In this manner the exclusivity of the organization was easily
maintained.89
Much has been written about the Brown Fellowship Society.
Historically, its primary function was as a mutual aid and burial organization.
From its inception the group operated for the benefit of all involved, but perhaps
most importantly for the purposes of this dissertation, it served as a training
ground whereby individuals gained leadership skills that could be used to benefit
not only themselves, but also other members of the community. Men prominent
in Charleston's black churches were among the first to succeed in straddling the
color line in post-Civil War Charleston.
In general there are two conflicting positions regarding the nature of this
club and others like it. Some scholars have divided Charleston’s black
community into three classes or “castes—white, black and mulatto.” Others
simply divided antebellum Charleston’s blacks into two groups, free and slave.
Robert L. Harris, Jr. “Charleston’s Free Afro-American Elite: The Brown Fellowship Society
and the Humane Brotherhood,” South Carolina Historical Magazine, ( v. 82, No. 4, October
1981.), 289-291.
89
69
Members of the Brown Fellowship Society were free and almost without
exception, had very light complexions. The Brown Fellowship Society was known
to limit membership to individuals with light complexions. Based on that evidence
alone, it would seem that dividing Charleston’s blacks into three castes would be
the most accurate representation. However, it is also clear that the social class of
an individual and the number of generations that individual’s family had been free
were also highly significant when it came to allowing membership in this
exclusive group. Typically, male children of members were given the first
opportunity for fill vacant slots in the organization’s membership role. If there
were more available positions, invitations would be granted to members of
extended families or other worthy persons in the community.90
Because of the stringent eligibility requirements, members were
traditionally at the highest levels of black society economically. In order to join,
members had to pay a fifty dollar membership fee. In addition, members paid
monthly dues. It was from this fund the society was able to pay benefits to
members and their families. The dollar value of membership was sufficient to
preclude membership for any but the wealthiest blacks (and few whites would
have had the economic ability to apply had they been desirous).91
Clearly, the restrictive economic and invitational requirements of
membership in the Brown Fellowship Society limited the population from which
For a discussion of class and color in the history of Charleston see: Harris. “Charleston’s Free
Afro-American Elite,” 289- 310; Ira Berlin, Slaves Without Masters: The Free Negro in the
Antebellum South, (N.Y.: Pantheon Books, 1974.), 57-8; 312-13;
91 "Charleston's Free Afro-American Elite," 294.
90
70
members were selected. As a result of these limitations, only a very small pool of
potential members existed. People outside the small circle of privileged members
could easily complain about those who were included in the organization citing
that the qualifications were color based. Furthermore, because the original
members of the society were mulatto and because members generally
intermarried among a small group of privileged free people of color, it would
follow that after several generations most members and their families would
continue to exhibit the tradition of light complexions that resulted from close
association within a limited peer group. This emphasis on light complexions
appears to be a racial exclusion, but in this instance color is also a mark of class
status. Thus when speaking of the Brown Fellowship Society, skin color and
class became equivalent criteria; not because the members specifically looked to
whiten their population but because those with the lightest skin were also those
who matched the limited requirements for membership.
Although members of the Brown Fellowship Society conducted
business and socialized with other members of the Society, their business and
social relationships were not exclusively within that peer group. As the free black
population expanded in size through manumission, self-purchase and birth rates,
individuals not included in the Brown Fellowship Society sought similar mutual
society benefits outside the confines of that group. By the 1840s, in Charleston,
the free black population grew to the extent that there was a need for other free
black voluntary organizations in the city. Creation of the Humane Brotherhood in
71
1843 satisfied some of those needs. Like The Brown Fellowship Society, The
Humane Brotherhood also served free people of color, but there were no limits to
the size of the organization, membership was less costly, and less exclusive. In
its original charter, the Humane Brotherhood described itself as an organization
of “free dark men.” 92
Historians commonly suggested that the members of the Brown
Fellowship Society believed their fair complexions were physical proof of their
superior status. Perhaps some members believed this rhetoric; however, some
Charlestonians chose to belong to both groups. Historian Robert Harris argued
that by the 1840s in Charleston, there was little benefit to a third racial class (the
mulatto class) in Charleston. Instead he argues it was more important for all free
blacks to unite in a show of solidarity to accentuate their status as free men than
it was to be seen as light skinned and more like the whites than like slaves. 93
Although that theory is certainly plausible, there is yet another
possibility. If members of the exclusive Brown Fellowship Society decided to join
additional fraternal organizations, like the Humane Brotherhood or the Friendly
Moralist Society, they may have been lured by the potential of obtaining
leadership roles that were limited in an organization (like Brown Fellowship), that
limited membership to only fifty members. Membership in several organizations
would expand the potential opportunities to serve in leadership capacities. For
92"Charleston's
Free Afro-American Elite," 294.
"Charleston's Free Afro-American Elite," 294. The idea of a mulatto class was beneficial under
slavery, however after emancipation, in the eyes of white southerners, people were either black or
white. No other status seemed to have a meaning for the former planter class. Some blacks
believed all blacks had to unify to maintain any power against the white race.
93
72
ambitious black men this would provide additional opportunities to move to the
pinnacles of black society. Therefore, perhaps personal ambition was a plausible
explanation for joining multiple benevolent organizations. Men who hoped and
believed they could make their world better positioned themselves to lead
whenever and wherever possible. If skin color was the primary reason for
determining the exclusivity of an organization, men with light complexions would
certainly have been reluctant to join groups that admitted people with darker skin.
The lure of leadership positions would have been insufficient to encourage
membership in a group that was considered socially inferior based on skin color
alone.
Instead of direct competition, the social and political atmosphere of
cooperation already in place within the exclusive benevolent societies carried
over in the lay-leadership at St. Mark’s Church. Those men who first met on that
Easter Sunday in 1865 defined by example the type of church in which they
wished to worship. When they chose a pastor who would lead their newly formed
congregation, they were choosing an individual who would embody the ideals
they already had. Because church membership was voluntary, people who did
not share their ecclesiastical vision could choose to worship elsewhere.
There is little historical argument that some members of the African
American clergy were influential members of the community. It is also obvious
that some members of the clergy, particularly those who led affluent
congregations, were better able to negotiate the minefield of race relations. It is
73
important to understand why were some members of the clergy were treated with
respect and a measure of equality by some leaders in the white community while
others were not. Class was the unifying factor. White community leaders, both
religious and secular, found common ground with blacks who shared similar
goals, practices, lifestyles and behaviors. It was far easier for whites to accept
the humanity of people whose lives in some ways mirrored their own. When class
status was similar, the distance to be straddled was far smaller than when both
racial and class differences had to be addressed. Whites who considered
themselves racially progressive acknowledged that when people had similar
financial and social statuses, the class similarities outweighed the racial
differences.
One of those progressive whites was Reverend Anthony Toomer Porter.
He was a fixture in Charleston ecclesiastical circles, a stalwart advocate for St.
Marks Church, and served its members diligently for many years. Born into the
southern slave-owning aristocracy in 1828, Anthony felt his call to the ministry
while still in his teens, but he did not act on that calling until he was in his
twenties. By 1875, Dr. Porter had become an advocate for black Episcopalians in
Charleston. On May 13, 1875, at a meeting of the Convention of the Diocese of
South Carolina, the Bishop announced that St. Marks Church had applied for
admission to the Convention.94
A. Toomer Porter, Led On! Step by Step. Scenes from Clerical, Military, Educational, and
Plantation Live in the South 1828-1898: An Autobiography. (New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons,
1898) 2-3; 307. Porter’s father died when he was an infant. He made the decision to enter the
seminary at age twenty three. At that time he made arrangements to sell the family plantation, to
94
74
This application for membership was a surprise to the white clergymen at
the Convention. By 1875, St. Marks was an established congregation,
worshipping in rented space and led by a white rector, the Reverend J. B.
Seabrook. Some members of the Convention of the Diocese of South Carolina,
particularly Edward McCrady, were hesitant to admit St. Marks to their
organization and cited their lack of a permanent facility as justification to delay
the admission. Recognizing this objection as racial discrimination, A. Porter
Toomer argued with his colleague stating “if they have complied with all the
requirements of the constitution, they [should] be admitted into union. Or, like
men, let us say at once they shall not be admitted because they are colored, and
no colored delegates shall sit in this Convention.” 95
Although Porter did not succeed in convincing the members of the
Diocesan Convention to admit St. Marks in 1875, he eventually had a profound
dispose of his slaves and to provide financially for his mother and sisters. Porter called together
his slaves and gave them a choice of living on his lands under an overseer or allowing him to
choose an owner for them who was a “Christian” and would treat them as he would. Ultimately,
Porter sold all his slaves to one individual at a value lower than their appraised market value, who
agreed to keep them all together. Porter chartered a ship and personally paid to have all of the
slaves possessions, including their personal livestock, transported to their new home. 78-80.
95 Led On, 308-309. Charles J. Holden, In the Great Maelstrom: Conservatives in Post-Civil War
South Carolina. (Columbia, University of South Carolina Press, 2002), 9. Like Porter, Edward
McCrady was a traditional southerner born into a slave-holding family. McCrady’s father was an
attorney and his son followed that tradition. In addition to practicing law, McCrady served in the
Confederate Army rising to the rank of Lt. Colonel and later served in state government. McCrady
and Porter were nearly the same age, from similar social backgrounds but were ideologically as far
apart as possible. McCrady adhered to all the southern stereotypes regarding racial and social
inferiority, believing that all illiterate people should be disfranchised and that it was the duty of
the Southern aristocracy to rule for the good of all. Porter believed in the common humanity of
man and blamed racial inferiority on the institution of slavery. McCrady, as well as some other
influential whites, feared that admitting St. Mark’s to the Episcopal Convention would
acknowledge the legitimacy of miscegenation. A. Toomer Porter countered that argument saying
that those who opposed refused to accept the validity of what happened at Appomattox. Edmund
L. Drago, Charleston’s Avery Center: From Education and Civil Rights to Preserving the African
American Experience. (Charleston: History Press, 2006), 118.
75
influence on the success of that institution. Three years later, in May 1878, the
Episcopal Bishop of Charleston, the Right Reverend William B.W. Howe urged
Reverend A. Toomer Porter to assume the office of rector at St. Marks Church.
Howe believed that Porter had the skills to place the congregation on an
economically sound foundation; that he would nurture the fledgling congregation
to fruition. This was not to be Porter’s only assignment; he was to assume St.
Marks in addition to all of his other obligations. He was to continue with his full
time obligation as rector of the Church of the Holy Communion as well as
managing the Porter Academy which he founded. 96
Porter reluctantly added this commission to his already bone crushing
burden, but only on the condition that the congregation wished him to serve.
When he met with the members of St. Marks, they unanimously requested his
service. Porter then informed them that they would have to raise the funds to be
in their own building within six months. His first task was fundraising by
subscription within the congregation and then they cast their nets to find others
who would move the work forward. The leadership of the church authorized a
salary for Porter, but he turned over that allotment to the ordained deacons who
served with him, working for St. Marks free of charge.97
It was always Porter’s goal to make St. Marks a self-sustaining, selfsufficient entity and he worked diligently to make that outcome a reality. When
Led On,.307-310.; p. 332-4. Porter began a school in the aftermath of the Civil War for
orphaned boys. Like Booker T. Washington, Porter continuously traveled throughout America
and Europe seeking donations to fund both religious congregations and his school. His health was
seriously compromised by the constant demands on his time and energy.
97 Led On, 333-5.
96
76
Bishop Howe requested his service as the leader of St. Marks, Porter demanded
the assistance of ordained deacons. The first two deacons appointed were white;
one of them was Porter’s son Theodore. The third deacon was African American,
Thaddeus Saltus. Saltus served at St. Marks first as a deacon and later as a
priest. He would have continued in that role relieving Reverend Porter entirely
had he not died of tuberculosis the following year. After Saltus’ death, the burden
reverted back to Porter until 1888 when leadership was finally assumed in its
entirety by the appointment of an ordained African American priest, Reverend J.
H. M. Pollard.98
It was evident that Reverend Porter was progressive in his racial
philosophy. He was born a son of the South, but realized at an early age the
detrimental effect that slavery had on society. Clearly as a young man his
solutions to the race issue were paternalistic, but as he matured and developed
professional relationships across the color line his perspective shifted. He was
acutely aware that the issue of race was more specifically an issue of class.
Porter was willing to work with peers across the color line to accomplish the tasks
necessary to keep society functioning in a way that would meet the needs of all.
Perhaps he behaved in a paternalistic manner toward some members of the St.
Marks congregation; but his relationships with black parishioners varied little from
those of his white parishioners.
98
Led On, 335-6.
77
Porter had a particularly close personal relationship with Charleston
politician and businessman George A. Shrewsbury. Shrewsbury was free before
the Civil War and remained in Charleston during the war. When prosperous white
people prepared to leave the city ahead of the Union invasion, Shrewsbury urged
the minister to remain. Porter declined and in the aftermath of war, his personal
property was appropriated by the Freedmen's Bureau. When Shrewsbury learned
of his friend's financial trials, he loaned Porter a substantial amount of money
refusing to take any interest when later Porter repaid him. 99
Shrewsbury owned a lucrative butcher shop that served the public
throughout Reconstruction. Because his income was so substantial, he was able
to donate five hundred dollars toward the orphanage and school Porter founded
for white children. That contribution was among the largest Porter received. Like
several others of the old elite, Shrewsbury continued to identify with members of
the white elite (including Porter) during Reconstruction although he supported the
Republican Party. In 1873, Shrewsbury was elected to the Charleston City
Council. 100
When George Shrewsbury died two years later, Porter recalled, " I acted
as one of his pall-bearers, and assisted in bearing his body to the grave; a thing it
required some nerve to do in this community. " Friendship across the color line
Black Charlestonians, 167; 173-4.
Black Charlestonians, 174; Charleston Daily News, (Charleston, S. C.), March 27, 1873.
Porter Academy was established as a school and orphanage for children who were impoverished
or orphaned during the Civil War.
99
100
78
was not an easy thing to justify even for a man as respectable and with as long a
history in Charleston as the Reverend A. Toomer Porter.101
It is clear that from an early age Porter felt a responsibility toward most
people he encountered. He interpreted his feelings as Christian obligation; that
certain behaviors were required of all who believed in the teachings of the
Church. Bishop Howe also sustained the right of black Episcopalians to be
accepted as full participants in the Episcopal Conventions. At annual
conventions, white Episcopalian lay-leaders of the church, many of whom were
unrepentant Confederates and who wished strict segregation of the races,
repeatedly precipitated controversies by refusing to admit qualified blacks as
members. The Christian spirit was far more apparent in members of the clergy
than in the lay leaders who participated. Although a number of ordained ministers
fought for racial equality within the Church, they could ill afford to press too hard
against church members who controlled the purse-strings and therefore the
direction the church would take.102
Although these events took place a decade after the end of
Reconstruction, they were symbolic of the crushing reality of Jim Crow
opposition. African Americans steadily sought refuge from the onslaught of white
oppression in independent churches. Beginning in the South, but eventually
Porter, Led On, 296.
N.Y. Times, May 14, 1887. White leaders including Col. John C. Haskell insisted that when the
Church was organized, the Church had no idea there would ever be black ministers. If they had,
they would have created provisions in the by-laws outlining who specifically could become part of
the Convention. .Haskell and others maintained that it was unacceptable that black men could
ever become part of the Convention.
101
102
79
spreading throughout much of the United States, “the black church increasingly
functioned as the primary public sphere for black men and women”. C. Eric
Lincoln described the institution of the black church as the “womb of black
culture.” There within the safety and nurturing environment of the black
community, members of the black elite emerged as leaders and applied the skills
they learned in church to benefit the entire community as well as themselves. 103
The leadership of the black community was put to the test following an
earthquake that devastated Charleston on Tuesday, August 31,1886. When the
shaking finally subsided, African Americans fled their homes and flocked to their
homes away from home: their houses of worship. In the hours and days that
followed, churches still standing provided some of the few places of refuge for
African Americans in a demolished city. St. Marks Church, Mount Zion African
Methodist Church, Centenary Methodist Church and Emmanuel A.M.E. Church
all survived the quake and each held regularly scheduled services on September
5th, the Sunday following the disaster.104
Charleston’s acting mayor, William E. Huger, organized a relief committee
on Friday, September 10, 1886, to deal with the devastation of the earthquake.
This committee did not include any African Americans. White civic leaders
believed they spoke for the entire population of Charleston, but many blacks
Quoted in Joe Creech, Righteous Indignation: Religion and the Populist Revolution. (Urbana:
University of Illinois Press, 2006), 15.
104 News and Courier, September 13, 1886.
103
80
feared that desperately needed funds would be funneled to white Charlestonians
leaving blacks without resources.105
Clergymen in the African American community quickly organized to aid the
suffering members of their congregations. On Monday, September 6, 1886,
ministers and lay leaders from St. Marks, Mt. Zion, Centenary and Emmanuel
met at Mount Zion African Methodist Church to discuss ways to alleviate the
suffering of their parishioners. According to published reports, one reason for this
specific meeting was to coordinate the receipt and distribution of philanthropic
contributions offered to them directly by concerned citizens throughout the
nation. The Reverend William Henry Heard, pastor at Mt. Zion, presided over the
meeting held at his church during which time a committee was formed to accept
and disseminate the relief funds and supplies that poured in from all over
America. News of that meeting and verification of the legitimacy of the committee
was published in the News and Courier the following day. The members of the
clergy in attendance, Reverends S.W. McKinlay, J.E. Wilson, L. R. Nichols, P.W.
Jefferson, R.L. Sanders, G.C. Rowe and Dr. William Crum, M.D. also crafted a
written appeal for aid above and beyond that which had already been offered to
the city of Charleston. This written appeal was forwarded to the Associated Press
Office in Washington D.C. for nationwide dissemination. 106
Richard N. Cote, City of Heroes: The Great Charleston Earthquake of 1886. (Mt. Pleasant,
S.C.; Corinthian Books, 2007), 149. Mayor Courtenay was out of town at the time of the disaster
and Huger acted until the Mayor could return.
106 “The Colored Clergy: An Appeal for Aid for the Suffering People,” News and Courier,
September 7, 1886.
105
81
The eloquent appeal by members of the African American clergy was
directed at the general public as well as to congregations of their respective
denominations throughout the nation. It specifically requested that money and
supplies be sent to aid “colored” Charlestonians afflicted by the disaster. The
initial plea for aid was published in the (white) Charleston News and Courier and
later republished in other newspapers, black and white, throughout the nation
because the appeal was forwarded to The Associated Press.107
One of the most interesting aspects of the appeal was the final sentence
which read the aforementioned “shall constitute a committee to receive and all
funds sent to the colored sufferers and to assist the committee appointed by the
Mayor in seeking and relieving the needy.” This statement affirmed the fears the
black ministers had that the Mayor’s Emergency Relief Committee (E.R.C.)
would only aid whites. The black ministers hoped to supplement the relief efforts
being organized by governmental officials to insure that blacks would not be
forgotten during the state of emergency. 108
Based on the initial coverage of the earthquake in Charleston’s daily
newspapers it appeared that the members of the E.R.C. appointed by the office
of the mayor, all of whom were white, would work to provide maximum benefits to
the majority of those directly affected by the disaster. The report in the News and
Courier was straightforward. There was no suggestion that black leaders were ill
equipped to participate in the relief efforts. There was no indication that white
107
108
News and Courier, September 9, 1886; Washington Bee, September 25, 1886
News and Courier, September 7, 1886.
82
leaders initially sought to usurp the power or authority of black clergy and laymen
who were doling out donated money and supplies. There were many appeals
published in the national press and in specific religious organs. Some were
directed at the Methodists, others at the Baptists; some appealed to Catholics
and still others to Jews. Bishop Howe of the Episcopalian Diocese also made an
appeal in the News and Courier. No complaint was made that white clergy
members were appealing directly to members of their denominations for aid.
However, when black clergymen appealed for aid to be sent directly to them for
use by their congregations, whites took offense. Neither blacks nor whites
attempted to cooperate across racial lines when funds were requested in the
aftermath of the terrible natural disaster that occurred in Charleston in 1886. Both
sides knew that it was imperative to control responsibly every dollar that they
could obtain.109
What was striking about the reprint of the request for aid in the News and
Courier two days following the original request was the change of the title and a
new sub-heading added below. On September 9th the article title was: “The
Colored People’s Appeal”. The sub-heading on the following line claimed: “An IllAdvised Attempt to Divide the Contributions of the American People”. This article
City of Heroes, 341-350. News and Courier, September 7 and 9, 1886. Cote suggests that the
News and Courier implied that the appeal for aid might be fraudulent. The appeal was directed
at all Americans. It was carried by the Associated Press and that meant that it had nationwide
exposure. The request for funds was not aimed only at white Americans, although it can be
understood that the white population in America was larger than the African American
population and in general, there were more affluent whites who could be expected to contribute.
This disaster affected the entire city of Charleston. White people and black people were in dire
need and there was enormous competition for all available relief funds.
109
83
simply reprinted the September 7th Associated Press release from Washington
D.C.– an article that had been previously run in the News and Courier on
September 7th.
In its second printing, the News and Courier placed the sub-title with the
clear intention of misleading the citizens of Charleston and raising questions
regarding the legitimacy of the solicitation of funds by members of the black
clergy. The editors of the paper were attempting to sway public opinion. They
tried to convince white Charlestonians that African Americans were attempting to
divert much needed funds from the white population to the black. In addition to
the use of a sub-title, two additional statements followed the body of the appeal.
They were as follows: “The secretary will sign for anything that may be sent to
him” and “The signatures are not autographs. The document appears to be a
copy …The penmanship is business like.” Clearly, the editors of the News and
Courier did not wish to acknowledge, or imply, the authenticity of "The Appeal" as
published by The Associated Press despite the fact that they filed the same
report in their paper prior to its appearance at a national level. Also, it was the
News and Courier that attempted to create or perhaps reinforce, a racial divide
by adding the subtitle. 110
The newspaper editor made it appear that blacks wished to divide, or
circumvent the distribution of philanthropic funds. In times of disaster it was
common practice for southern white officials to usurp the majority of donated
110
News and Courier, Charleston, September 9, 1886.
84
relief funds for the benefit of white citizens, a practice that left African Americans
no recourse or bargaining power. By directly appealing to American citizens
black ministers hoped they would be able to get a share of the proverbial pie for
members of their congregations.
Direct appeal to the public was a way for elite black men to bypass
proscribed relationships and the bureaucracy dominated by white city officials.
The members of the clergy and lay leaders did not need to ask permission or to
wait for city officials to come to their assistance. They saw a need and
responded. By publishing a direct appeal to people in America, they could make
known the plight of destitute blacks and could hope to provide direct relief to
individuals who were most vulnerable. In the wake of Redemption, Dr. William D.
Crum, Samuel W. McKinley and Reverend W. H. H. Heard and the others knew
that if white officials controlled all of the funds, there would be little available to
minister to the needs of African Americans. These men knew that by affixing their
names to "The Appeal", there would be little doubt regarding the legitimacy of
their cause despite the attempts by the media to thwart them. 111
Reverend Heard, an esteemed and influential member of the clergy, was
not a member of the inner circles of the black elite in Charleston. Born enslaved
in Georgia, with perseverance and determination Heard eventually rose to the
office of Bishop in the A.M.E. Church. In 1895, just nine short years after Heard's
efforts during the Charleston earthquake, President Grover Cleveland listened to
111
Reverend Heard served at Mt. Zion A.M.E. Church both in Charleston
85
recommendations and appointed Reverend Heard United States Minister
Resident and Consul General to Liberia. Heard’s appointment was secured
through the influence of Booker T. Washington and A.M.E. Bishop Henry M.
Turner. This is evidence of the success that a hardworking and talented black
man could attain, but his political influence was not comparable to other
members of the elite who had substantial working relationships across the color
line. Heard’s success was most apparent within the confines of his own race.
Politically successful members of the black elite assisted Heard in elevating his
class status. His abilities and talents enabled Heard as he significantly expanded
the A.M.E. Church in Monrovia, Africa during his tenure as Consul General there.
Despite his success, he was not privy to the same level of personal acclaim that
was afforded men like Bishop Henry M. Turner and Booker T. Washington. 112
The Reverend Daniel J. Jenkins, a Baptist minister in Charleston, was
also not a member of the old elite. He was in fact, a challenge to the old elite.
Perhaps it would be better to refer to Jenkins as a rising star in Charleston's
black community. He was a "New Negro", a self-made man who wore many hats
and looked for new ways to gain the same prominence and acceptance as
members of Charleston's elite society. Born at the end of the Civil War, he was
free, because the institution of slavery was dying. His parents were slaves and
were not members of the black elite. Jenkins, like Booker T. Washington, was
pragmatic in his approach to dealing with powerful whites. After arriving in
112
Booker T. Washington Papers, Volume 4, 484n.
86
Charleston as a young man, Jenkins first profitable endeavor was the
establishment of a successful lumber yard. Once he was economically secure,
Jenkins became “pastor of Charleston’s New Tabernacle Fourth Baptist Church.”
It was in his capacity as a Baptist preacher that Jenkins commenced his next
endeavor. In 1891, he began a home for orphaned boys in Charleston.113
After finding several orphaned African American boys huddled together in
shipping crates on the street, Daniel Jenkins established a facility to house
homeless youth. When he began raising the funds necessary to provide housing
and aid for the first orphans he encountered, Jenkins had no idea of the
magnitude of the homeless problem among black youth in Charleston. The
number of children who needed assistance quickly outgrew the original facility.
Within a year, Jenkins completed negotiations to purchase a building that once
had been a Marine Hospital in the city. It was there on Franklin Street, just a few
blocks north of Broad Street, where Jenkins provided shelter and training for
boys who would have otherwise been doomed to life on the streets.114
Jenkins applied for and received an official charter in the State of
South Carolina in 1892. By obtaining an official charter, Jenkins was entitled to
municipal funds designated for the care of indigent children. Although not
sufficient to provide all the care necessary for his homeless children, the
municipal funds allowed Jenkins the freedom to find creative ways of obtaining
Drago, Charleston’s Avery Center, 131.
Charleston, News and Courier, November 14, 1892. Broad Street is located less than half a
mile north of the southern tip of the peninsula on which Charleston is located. The area south of
Broad Street was (and still is) traditionally though of as the most desirable neighborhood of
Charleston where members of the white elite lived.
113
114
87
sufficient money to adequately care for the homeless youth. In many ways
Jenkins mirrored the self-help principles espoused by Booker T. Washington as
he strived to build and sustain his orphanage. This should not be surprising in as
much as both men came from remarkably similar backgrounds and both men
grew to manhood outwardly deferential to white authority. Jenkins advocated the
idea of black self-help but "made it clear that the cooperation of white
Southerners was essential" to the progress of the orphanage "particularly
through [his demands for] financial aid …he reminded whites that their support
was crucial…and placed the burden of failure [of the orphanage] on their (white)
shoulders." In so doing, Jenkins encouraged the concept of white paternalism but
also ensured that white guilt could be invoked to keep necessary funds flowing.
Additionally, Jenkins was performing a useful service to white Charleston.
Because Jenkins began the privately orphanage after seeing a need in the
community, he removed necessity of whites feeling an obligation to provide tax
supported sustenance and education for indigent black children. 115
Initially Jenkins spent considerable time fundraising to maintain the
financial solvency of his orphanage, but he soon discovered he could raise funds
with performances by the Jenkins Orphanage Band. Shortly after starting the
orphanage, Jenkins hired two musicians to give music lessons to the young
residents. The boys practiced and by 1895 the box office receipts from
115 Nathan Johnson, " 'In the Name of all that is Just and Honest': Reverend Daniel J. Jenkins,
The Jenkins Orphanage and Black Leadership in Charleston, S.C. 1891-1937." (Master's Thesis,
University of South Carolina, 2009), 4-5.
88
performances provided the balance of the funds necessary to keep the
orphanage solvent. By spotlighting his orphan's musical abilities, Jenkins funded
the orphanage while minimizing the necessity of direct pleas for funds that
always plagued Booker T. Washington. Although Jenkins and his musicians
toured world wide, in places like London, Paris and Rome, he never attained the
level of distinction or personal power that Washington possessed. Jenkins'
influence was limited to Charleston and his philanthropic organizations.116
Jenkins attained some recognition and acceptance by Charleston's
black elite but not entirely through his own efforts. In September 1912, Daniel
Jenkins married his second wife, Eloise C Harleston, a woman whose family was
part of Charleston's black aristocracy. Eloise, not Daniel, became a founding
member of Charleston's National Association for the Advancement of Colored
People. Although he did not participate in the organization, perhaps out of fear of
alienating supporters, he did not prevent his wife from doing so.117
No evidence suggests that Daniel Jenkins either supported or
disapproved of his wife's involvement in N.A.A.C.P. activities. Washington D.C.
Municipal Court Judge Robert H. Terrell did not participate in the N.A.A.C.P., but
his wife Mary Church Terrell was a founding member of the organization. Thus,
at least in some prominent southern black families, there was an emerging
pattern that elite women would be the public face of racial activism while their
116 George Brown Tindall, South Carolina Negroes 1877-1900. ( Columbia, S.C.: University of
South Carolina Press, 2003), 279; Charleston! Charleston!, 362.
117 A.B. Caldwell, History of the American Negro and his Institutions. (Atlanta,: A.B. Caldwell
Publishing, 1919), Volume 3, 28. Eloise C. Harleston Jenkins was the sister of Charleston artist
and N.A.A.C.P organizer Edwin A. Harleston.
89
men maintained an air of racial respectability that allowed them to successfully
straddle the color line. 118
Here the notion of racial respectability by members of the black
elite should not be equated with the idea of submitting to pressures of
paternalism from prominent white people. Jenkins and others did not succumb to
the demands of powerful whites, nor did they consciously measure their behavior
in an attempt to placate powerful whites. Instead, they lived their lives in
accordance with the standards of polite Victorian society. There was a code of
behavior that was common among the educated, affluent, and respected
members of society regardless of race. Their code of behavior was not simply
American behavior, it was seen as cultured behavior. People identified as
cultured read classic literature, attended the opera, belonged to literary societies.
In essence, they would have been recognized as gentlemen anywhere in polite
society. Men of the black elite ascribed to that code not in an attempt to act white
but rather as a marker of their social class. They did not mimic white society nor
did they act subservient to whites. They simply engaged in activities and
behaviors that exemplified their educations, their social class, and their
professions. Their lives epitomized the image of Victorian America. In every
sense of the word they were true Victorian gentlemen.
Dictionary of American Negro Biography, 583-6. Judge Robert H. Terrell was the first African
American appointed as a Federal Court judge. A graduate of Harvard College and Howard
University Law School, Terrell was elevated to the Municipal Court in 1910 by President Taft
through the efforts of Booker T. Washington.
118
90
Perhaps the African Americans most representative of Charleston's
Victorian gentlemen were the physicians. The first African American physicians
arrived in Charleston during the Civil War as part of the military contingent. When
the war ended, the opportunities for black doctors seemed limitless with the
institution of the Freedmen's Bureau and government funding for medical
services. Dr. Martin R. Delany, abolitionist, Union army officer and Freedmen's
Bureau agent, was among the first to set up a practice in Charleston. Dr.
Benjamin A. Boseman, an “assistant surgeon in the United States Colored
Troops,” also began practice in post-war Charleston. As a result of their war time
service, both men were known, respected and trusted by people in the region
and therefore had no difficulty in attracting patients. In an era when medical
practitioners were not subject to rigorous testing and accreditation, many people
were reluctant to put their trust in doctors who did not have a proven record in the
local community. These men, by virtue of their name recognition and their class
status, passed the first test for trust and reliability. As members of the African
American elite, they had opportunities to work closely with white Americans and
found unique acceptance in a racially divided society community that was
unavailable to less prominent African Americans.119
As representative men in black society they knew how to live in both
worlds. They were black, they were well-educated and they were cultured. Their
119 Bernard E. Powers, Jr. Black Charlestonians: A Social History 1822- 1885 (Fayetteville:
University of Arkansas Press, 1994), 171-172. Todd L. Savitt, “Entering a White Profession: Black
Physicians in the New South 1880-1920,” Bulletin of the History of Medicine 61 (Winter 1987),
507-509.
91
lives were very similar to those lived by white physicians in Charleston. What was
also evident with regard to African American members of the medical profession
in the early post-war era was their penchant for vocational and economic
diversity. Very few elite black men devoted themselves exclusively to medicine
as their sole occupation or profession. Part of the reason for this need to
diversify, especially in the South, was the inability to find enough patients who
had the monetary resources to pay for medical services. When South Carolina
native, Alonzo Clifton McClennan graduated from Howard University School of
Medicine in 1884 with degrees in both pharmacy and medicine, he chose to
locate in Charleston where his first priority was to begin the road to economic
security. Because the racial climate in that state was so volatile in the 1880s, few
African Americans graduating from medical school chose to start a practice
there. 120
South Carolina was not an easy place for African Americans to live in
1884. Although there were more blacks than whites living in Charleston, powerful
whites continued their antebellum behavioral traditions in an attempt to
circumvent any possibility of racial equality. In 1890 Benjamin Tillman was
elected governor of South Carolina giving legitimacy to the racial terror that
previously was clandestine. Despite their lesser population numbers, white
people had the ability to demand deference from most African Americans. This
repressive environment made the city less hospitable for relocating physicians,
Todd L. Savitt Race and Medicine in Nineteenth- and Early-Twentieth Century America
(Kent, Ohio: Kent State University Press, 2007), 278.
120
92
especially those not native to the city. Lack of family ties in such a traditional
southern city also hampered blacks who sought to begin a medical practice
there. Most newly minted African American doctors chose to live where racism
and bigotry were less pervasive than in the city of Charleston.121
Despite the potential limitations, Alonzo McClennan decided to tie his fate
to the Holy City. Soon after McClennan’s arrival in Charleston he began his initial
business venture, the establishment of a pharmacy. The People’s Pharmacy,
begun in 1884, was initially created to serve the black community. Dr.
McClennan also began to practice medicine serving as both a general
practitioner and an experienced surgeon. In 1897, recognizing another urgent
need within the black community in Charleston, McClennan, in conjunction with
other black medical professionals, created The Hospital and Training School for
Nurses. 122
The creation of a nursing school was not a unique undertaking.
Professional training for nurses was becoming the rule rather than the exception
by the end of the nineteenth century. McClennan’s purposes for creating a
hospital and nursing school were two-fold. One purpose was to provide hospital
facilities where African American doctors could provide skilled care for patients
whose homes were not conducive to convalescent care. Because of increasing
Savitt, Race and Medicine, p. 320. U.S. Federal Census shows the total population of
Charleston in 1880 as 49, 984 people; 27, 276 were African American. Tillman served as governor
of South Carolina from 1890 until 1894. He then represented South Carolina in the U.S. Senate
from 1895 until 1918 when he died in office.
122 The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 1 (December 1898), 12; Savitt, Race and Medicine,
320-323.
121
93
segregation, both dejure and defacto, African American physicians were not
permitted to treat patients in existing private or community funded hospitals.
Those spaces were designated for white patients only. Even the few public
hospitals that did admit black patients, housed them in segregated wards. Black
doctors were not permitted to attend their patients there. When an African
American doctor sent a patient to a segregated community or private hospital, he
had to relinquish care of that patient to a white doctor who was permitted to
practice at that facility. Such actions cost black physicians patients and much
needed revenue. If an individual needed critical care, they would simply bypass
the black doctor in favor of a white doctor with hospital privileges. McClennan
and the other black doctors of Charleston understood that limitation and sought
to remedy the problem by establishing a hospital where they could practice
medicine.123
The other reason Alonzo McClennan decided to begin a hospital was to
professionally train African American nurses who would expand the capability of
the black medical community. Just as black doctors were excluded from
practicing in white run hospitals in the Palmetto State, black nursing students
were also excluded from training in white nursing schools and from practicing in
white hospitals. Correctly perceiving the need for experienced nurses, both in
surgical and continuing care, McClennan reasoned that there would be
significant financial and moral support for his endeavor. In the first issue of the
The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 1 (December 1898), 12; Savitt, Race and Medicine,
320-323.
123
94
Hospital Herald his associate, Dr. Lucy Brown, wrote an article demonstrating the
need for practical, professional nursing education. Dr. Brown wrote:
The nurse who depends entirely on her text-book will
make only medium success, and she who depends
along on practical experience will fail to reach the
heights, while she who combines both has within her
grasp vast possibilities.
This argument resonated with physicians of both races and other
educated people living in and around Charleston. Each issue of the Hospital
Herald contained one or more pleas for donations to support nursing education.
McClennan also provided a detailed accounting of the supplies that were needed
and the cost for each. 124
Although the elite black community supported McClennan, he needed and
obtained significant financial and political support from whites as well. This may
have been easier for McClennan than for most African Americans because he
was described as “to all appearances a white man.” According to a description
penned by his daughter, he “was a tall imposing figure with blonde hair and blue
eyes.” Although in appearance he looked white, and probably could have passed
for white had he chosen to relocate to another part of the country, such behavior
would have been totally out of character for most members of Charleston’s black
elite. There was a sense of pride and honor that went along with being a member
of society’s upper crust. Charleston had a long history of a prestigious free black
population. African Americans who were not part of the elite expected educated
124
The Hospital Herald , Volume 1, Number 1 (December 1898); Savitt, Race and Medicine, 323.
95
people like McClennan to achieve greatness; they were to carry the mantle for
the race. Perhaps this is what drove McClennan to work tirelessly. Men with less
drive, ambition and fortitude would not have subjected themselves to life in a
region where there was the constant struggle to maintain an aura of respect, a
need to prove their manhood, and to achieve success despite the odds. White
southerners assumed that white physicians would be financially successful and
serve as leaders of their community. People in the African American community
assumed the same of black physicians, but success was more illusive for African
American doctors in the South in the aftermath of Reconstruction. The academic,
financial, and professional success achieved by black physicians affirmed the
insignificance of race as a predictor of competency and was irrelevant in
establishing an aura of Victorian manhood. 125
When McClennan and his medical colleagues decided to establish a
hospital in Charleston, they used the importance of his place in society to make
the dream a reality. He forged a team of influential people from both sides of the
color line who were accustomed to working together in such a manner. Several
African American doctors joined forces with McClennan. They practiced a variety
of medical specialties including but not limited to, pathology, dentistry and
gynecology. In addition to the doctors, there were also members of an interracial
advisory board. Among the notable white Charlestonians on the original advisory
board were former mayor George I. Cunningham, philanthropist Abraham C.
Willard B. Gatewood, Aristocrats of Color: The Black Elite 1880-1920. (Fayetteville:
University of Arkansas Press, 2000), p. 81-2. Savitt, Race and Medicine, 321.
125
96
Kaufman and former Confederate officer and federal judge Charles H. Simonton.
The Reverend George A. Kraft, a white pastor at St. Peter’s Roman Catholic
Church, the Catholic Church that served the black community, was added later to
the advisory board.126
George Cunningham, Charleston’s Reconstruction Era Republican mayor,
served two consecutive two year terms beginning in 1875. Prior to his terms as
mayor, Cunningham was one of the first post-Civil War aldermen appointed by
military leaders during the reorganization of Charleston in 1868. Of that group,
six were white and the remaining seven were African American men chosen from
Charleston’s previously free black contingent. Cunningham sympathized and
supported African American attempts at uplift as a result of his public service
during Reconstruction. He had an opportunity to work closely with people across
the color line serving as mayor in a city with a majority black population and an
influential African American upper class. He continued his working relationships
with educated, cultured and prosperous members of the black community
throughout the rest of his professional life. Although it is likely that McClennan
chose Cunningham for his ability to cooperate with elite blacks, the opposite was
probably true of Charles Simonton. 127
Simonton was a traditionalist and Confederate in every sense of the word.
Born into a planter family, he was a long time resident of South Carolina. Trained
126 Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 1 (December 1898), np.; Volume 1, Number 10
(September 1899), 8.
127 Charleston! Charleston! 286; 294.
97
as a lawyer, Simonton served as a member of the South Carolina state
legislature both before and after the Civil War. During the war, he served as an
officer in the Confederacy and was responsible for securing the United States
arsenal in Charleston for the benefit of Confederate forces. Following the conflict,
prominent southerners like Simonton learned to respond appropriately to the
changing dynamics of regional politics. In 1886, he was appointed by Democratic
President Grover Cleveland as Judge of the United States District Court for the
District of South Carolina. Less than a decade later Simonton was elevated to the
position of United States Circuit Judge for the 4th Circuit. He also served as the
President of the Medical College of the State of South Carolina. With such a vast
array of experience, having Simonton’s name listed on an advisory board lent a
sense of legitimacy to a fledgling organization. Simonton may have been willing
to lend his support because McClennan was a well-respected member of
Charleston’s elite black community. For a man like Simonton, lending support
would be indicative of the inherent paternalism still evident among many of the
best people in the white community. With Simonton’s support, McClennan could
undertake the creation of a school and hospital; however, without Simonton’s
approval, there would be little hope for the school's survival because of the
enormous political power Simonton exerted. So significant was Simonton’s
blessing that McClennan listed him first among the names posted for his advisory
board. 128
128
Memorial Tribute, Year Book 1904, City of Charleston South Carolina (Charleston: Lucas-
98
Abraham C. Kaufman was also a prominent member of McClennan’s
advisory board. Although not politically active, Kaufman was a well-known
philanthropist. As one of the original people responsible for the creation of the
American Red Cross, he was invaluable as a reputable member of the board.
Kaufman had organizational skills, fundraising ability and a desire to be
philanthropic. McClennan praised Kaufman in recognition of a large cash
donation during a fundraising event. He wrote:
Mr. Kaufman is large hearted and is interested in all
institutions that are being established for the uplifting
of our people. It is a great pity that we did not have a
thousand in Charleston that think and act as he does.
McClennan wisely chose this man to serve on his board and then liberally
congratulated him publicly for his charitable donations. In doing so, he praised a
benefactor who would likely continue to donate money in the future and who had
the resources to convince others to contribute as well. 129
It is unlikely that any of these men had any significant influence on the day
to day operation of the Hospital and Training School for Nurses in any capacity
other than as a result of their monetary donations. McClennan may have been
sufficiently deferential to satisfy their need for an appropriate social hierarchy, but
he did not present the façade of being a good Negro who would bow and scrape
to achieve his will. Rather, he understood the politics of having a high profile,
Richardson Lithograph and Printing Company, 1905) p. 7; Charleston! Charleston!, 286; 294.
129 The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 12, (November 1899), 5; The Military Laws of the
United States, Fourth Edition, Washington, D.C.: U. S. Government Printing Office, 1901, 1045.
99
substantive, interracial advisory board to which he could appeal if racism or lack
of funds threatened the survival of his endeavors.
In 1898, Dr. A. C. McClennan added the title of editor to his already
overwhelming agenda. It was during that year that he and his associates
published the first edition of a medical and informational journal which they called
The Hospital Herald. As one of Charleston’s leading African American physicians
and surgeons, McClennan was not in need of diversions to fill his spare time. In a
city with a predominantly black population, it was highly unlikely that the good
doctor had very much spare time to fill; yet, in the course of his daily duties,
McClennan saw an urgent need for the dissemination of practical information in
the community that he served. 130
In creating The Hospital Herald McClennan was not trying to produce a
new scholarly medical journal that would spotlight the scientific work of African
American physicians, nor was he trying to organize a race based medical society
to serve Charleston’s African American community. Although he saw a need for
both those missions, his immediate agenda was far more basic.
McClennan’s primary goal was to provide practical training and prompt
dissemination of useful information for the many African American caregivers:
doctors, nurses, and laymen, throughout South Carolina. If the creation of this
medical journal is placed in the proper historical context of the state it served, it
The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 1, (December, 1898). The cost of The Hospital Herald
was fifty cents a year or five cents for each individual edition. There is no indication in the
publication of how many people subscribed to The Hospital Herald. It was published monthly for
16 months beginning in February 1899 and ending in May 1900.
130
100
becomes obvious why an overburdened physician would add yet another task to
his professional life. During the latter half of the 1890s, poor sanitation services
and polluted water made Charleston a particularly unhealthy place. In Charleston
poor people of both races suffered disproportionately from the lack of city
services. Compared to the more affluent, poor people contracted communicable
diseases with greater frequency. As part of the education program undertaken in
the pages of The Hospital Herald, McClennan and others explained the
mechanisms by which diseases were transmitted as well as ways to prevent and
cure illnesses once contracted. McClennan insisted in his journal that such basic
knowledge was of importance not just to members of the African American
medical community but to all members of society because disease was not a
respecter of race or socio-economic level. Middle and upper class people of both
races had intimate contact with African American service workers and manual
laborers who might easily pass on communicable diseases as part of the
interactions of daily life. Preventing diseases or epidemics was extremely
important in a time where effective medication and accurate diagnosis were both
in their infancy.131
When considering the physical environment of Charleston, it is important
to understand the infrastructure of the city during the years in question. It is
helpful to remember that Charleston suffered great privation and destruction
during the Civil War. It was largely renovated and rebuilt during the postwar era.
Charleston! Charleston!, 331; The Hospital Herald ,Volume 1, Number 5 (April 1899), 3-6;
The Hospital Herald October 1899- January 1900, passim.
131
101
Following Reconstruction, Charleston was devastated once again during a major
earthquake that leveled large parts of the city in 1886. Despite the flurry of
economic activity, Charleston was not a wealthy or industrial city during the
period under discussion. Following the earthquake, financial assistance flooded
in from all over the country and Charlestonians rebuilt their city in a relatively
short period of time; nevertheless, compared to Cleveland and New Orleans,
Charleston was a smaller and relatively poor city. It lacked significant industry,
tourism and commerce that were evident in other major cities elsewhere.132
McClennan used The Hospital Herald as a vehicle to bring awareness of
the health issues plaguing South Carolina in general and the African American
community in particular. Although he used The Hospital Herald as a platform to
raise awareness of medical and social issues, McClennan also used the pages to
commend people who donated liberally to his causes. In one issue he wrote
(former Charleston mayor) Mr. Cunningham “does not forget to give a substantial
donation whenever we have our [fundraising] fairs…we regret very much that he
forbids us to make known the amount that he usually contributes, as it would
probably influence others equally as able to give to our hospital.” 133
Clearly McClennan believed that he could use the dollar amount of a
significant donation to encourage a competition among wealthy donors. The size
of a charitable gift reflected the prosperity of the contributor as well as the
For a comprehensive discussion of Charleston’s earthquake see Richard N. Cote, City of
Heroes: The Great Charleston Earthquake of 1886. (Mt. Pleasant, S.C.: Corinthian Books, 2007);
Charleston! Charleston!, 315-318
133 The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 12, (November 1899), 5.
132
102
worthiness of a cause. Individuals had a finite amount of funds for charitable
contributions and there were always more worthy charities than individuals willing
to donate. Like any successful fundraiser, McClennan hoped that his cause
would be near to the hearts and minds of wealthy individuals. He published the
dispersal of donated funds pages in The Hospital Herald to document the
efficiency with which the money was used. He accounted for every penny and
showed potential donors the value of their contributions. All of the funds collected
supported the hospital and the care of people in need.134
As mentioned previously, recruiting trained black medical doctors to
practice in South Carolina proved difficult because of the restrictions placed on
most blacks by many whites. Few medical school graduates would choose to
work in a city where powerful white people had the ability to threaten the lives
and careers of any African American they decided was not willing to live under
societal restrictions imposed by whites who feared black influence. In South
Carolina, white doctors refused to practice in hospitals along side their black
counterparts. By November 1899 it was clear that the color line was hardening,
not disappearing in South Carolina. At that time in an editorial McClennan wrote:
"The time has come when it is a necessity for colored physicians to establish
hospitals and infirmaries in towns where there are three or four [black]
physicians.” He suggested when and where to create additional facilities for
medical care for African Americans. Although McClennan and most other elite
134
“The Needs of the Hospital,” The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 6, (May 1899)
103
blacks would have preferred desegregation and complete acceptance into all
facets of society, those living in the South were realistic enough to understand
there was little likelihood of that occurring in the foreseeable future and so they
sought to create the best facilities they could in parallel with those that existed for
whites.135
McClennan did not call for segregated facilities; he and most of the other
African American physicians were willing to treat patients regardless of their skin
color. Hospitals begun by groups of black doctors were willing to have white
patients in their hospitals. They were also willing to allow white physicians
privileges at their hospitals. What they were unwilling to do was to allow their
patients to suffer from lack of care because white doctors prohibited them from
practicing in existing hospitals. In addition, McClennan understood the value of
continuing education and the necessity of collegial camaraderie. Those functions
could be served in black hospitals. As a surgeon, McClennan sometimes needed
the assistance of another physician when performing a complex procedure; that
need could also be fulfilled in McClennan’s hospital. In instances of complex
medical issues, a second opinion was then and continues to be of great value in
providing adequate care. All these services and more were readily available for
African American practitioners in the hospitals under their control.
135
4.
“The Needs of the Hospital,” The Hospital Herald , Volume 1, Number 12, (November 1899), p.
104
Another thing that McClennan stressed within the pages of The Hospital
Herald was his desire for other physicians to submit articles for publication in the
journal. He chastised his colleagues for not participating stating:
Out of the thirty colored physicians in this State there
should be five or six that could give an original article
upon some subject that would be interesting and
instructive…We have men in the profession that we
might call eminent as surgeons: some who have
made their mark at the head of hospitals…It is
necessary that we should now develop in putting on
paper what we know and what we have gathered from
experience so that it will benefit and enlighten those
who have not had the wide experience of those
mature years.136
By penning this statement McClennan criticized not only the timidity or
reluctance of African American doctors to publish medical articles, but it also
criticized the medical practice as a whole for not respecting the technical ability
and wisdom gained by well trained African American practitioners during a
lifetime of service.
In print McClennan stated that the excuse of most he met was that they
were too busy to contribute articles to the journal, but perhaps that was not the
whole truth. Many of these physicians were extremely busy men, and certainly
McClennan’s life showed how busy some physicians were. Despite the demands
of their professions and family obligations, many found time to participate in
social and fraternal organizations in addition to maintaining their medical
practices. Perhaps one reason some physicians were reluctant to have their
136
The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 8, (July 1899), 5.
105
name in print was their desire to maintain a low profile within the public realm. As
was mentioned above, few medical school graduates were willing to begin a
practice in the state of South Carolina because of the repressive racial climate
there. It was likely that some physicians hoped that by maintaining a low profile,
they could escape censure by whites who were looking for black men who
exhibited too much pride or a sense of importance. High profile African
Americans ran the risk of being targeted by white men who hoped to maintain
control over African Americans through intimidation or violence. In a region
where there was a larger black population than white, some whites argued that
African American men were a threat to white women. In reality, southern white
men were more afraid of African American men who might serve as examples of
what successes people could attain if violent acts of repression did not keep
them in their proverbial place.137
One particularly violent episode of such behavior in South Carolina was
the lynching of the African American postmaster Frazier Baker in February 1898.
Baker served in the political patronage position of postmaster in Lake City, about
forty miles from Charleston. When he refused to submit to the local white's
demands that he vacate the appointment, a mob killed him. Not only was the
postmaster murdered, but one of his children was slain as well. His wife and
other children were seriously injured in the attack. This racially motivated attack
137 Robert Rosen, A Short History of Charleston. (Columbia, S.C.: University of South Carolina
Press, 1997), 149. There were 73 lynchings in South Carolina between 1882 - 1900. None occurred
in Charleston. According to Rosen, "Charlestonians would not countenance such violence."
106
warned other African Americans in South Carolina that they should not assume
any measure of equality within that state.138
One year later on the cover of the fifth issue of The Hospital Herald (April
1899), McClennan published a photograph of a woman in a hospital bed. That
woman was Lavinia Baker, the widow of the Lake City Postmaster. In that issue
McClennan merely mentioned that Lavinia was his patient. By 1899 most African
Americans who lived in South Carolina knew exactly who Lavinia Baker was and
the significance of her picture on the cover of The Hospital Herald. African
Americans who read McClennan’s journal knew that he was caring for the wife
and surviving children of the brutally murdered man. In response to that violent
act of racism, Alonzo McClennan stepped forward in a way that most other men
could not. He and his staff brought the surviving injured family members to his
hospital and cared for them. Most African Americans were unwilling to become
involved in that incident in any way. They understood the message implied by the
lynchers: do not overstep the prescribed racial boundaries or this will be your fate
as well. Despite the dangers to himself and his staff, McClennan took the risk
and publicly announced that he was caring for the Baker family.139
Although McClennan cared for them, he did not publish a full account of
the incident in The Hospital Herald until the August 1899 edition, nearly a year
and a half after the event. In that issue, on the front page, McClennan directly
New York Times, February 23, 1898.
The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 5, (April 1899), cover page; “Editorial Notes,” The
Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 5, (April 1899), 6.
138
139
107
addressed the Baker lynching as the lead article under a heading that said
“Editorial” in bold print. McClennan wrote simply that the “postmaster… and his
infant were murdered by a mob and that his wife and four children were horribly
wounded at the same time.” He continued saying that, “For four days the
newspapers from one end of the country to the other denounced the acts of the
mob as inhuman…” McClennan was also incensed by the brutality of the crime
but was even more frustrated that nothing had been done to aid the wounded
family members. Within days after the attack McClennan’s Hospital Association
decided to offer refuge and care to the Baker family.140
According to historian Todd Savitt in his discussion of the editorial,
“McClennan walked a fine line [my emphasis] between speaking out against
injustice and retaining biracial support for the black medical enterprises he was
developing.” While this is perhaps true, there may be more to McClennan’s
willingness not only to care for the injured but also to publish an account of the
lynching. In the journal he began and edited, McClennan was making a public
statement that racial intimidation should not and could not go unchallenged. If
blacks were willing to cower in fear and to run from racially motivated attacks,
such attacks would continue unabated. He personally was willing to take that risk
and to challenge those who would use violence to achieve their purposes. Not
only was McClennan willing to come home to the racially charged atmosphere of
South Carolina, he was also willing to begin a medical practice, a pharmacy, a
140
“Editorial,” The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 9, (August 1899), 3-5.
108
hospital and a medical journal. He began these businesses in a climate of racial
oppression and he encouraged others to do the same. McClennan organized
influential African Americans because he knew there was power in numbers. He
also courted powerful whites such as Judge Simonton, former Mayor George
Cunningham and philanthropist Abraham Kaufman to serve on his advisory
board. He made his actions public, both socially in the community and in print.
He left a paper trail. Of course McClennan could have become a target of bigoted
whites who wished to curtail his efforts; however, because he maintained such a
dominant public presence, it was easier for him to straddle that color line. The
public outcry over such senseless brutality against women and children, who
were not employed in a public manner, caused many in the white community to
side with the wounded. The inhumanity of the attack was not quickly forgotten.
McClennan stood like a giant in the no-man's land between the races in a way
that less influential people could have not dared. 141
Todd Savitt, Race and Medicine in Nineteenth- and Early-Twentieth- Century America.(Kent,
Ohio: Kent State University Press, 2007), 316-7. Savitt incorrectly stated in Race and Medicine
that McClennan published the account in the fifth issue ( April 1899). It was mentioned at that
time, but McClennan published the full story in August 1899 in issue 9) McClennan published his
editorial in August of 1899 not to take credit for caring for the wounded victims, but in response
to a public outcry when a white woman convinced the Baker family to move to Massachusetts.
Well wishers in Charleston feared the white woman was bringing the Baker family north to exploit
their trials – sort of a post-Civil War abolitionist saga. Dr. Lucy Brown accompanied the family
North when Lavinia Baker moved her family in an attempt to protect them from those who might
seek to profit by their misfortune. Perhaps McClennan would not have published his side of the
episode had the family remained in South Carolina. “Editorial,” The Hospital Herald, Volume 1,
Number 9, (August 1899), p. 3-5. Although McClennan was willing to take a stand about the
violence that occurred to the Baker family, it is likely that he delayed publication of the story for
two reasons. One reason is to allow the family to heal and to be removed from S.C. where they
could be subject to further attacks. It is also possible that he hoped the emotional tension
associated with the event would have lessened by the time he published his role in the affair.
141
109
Alonzo McClennan was not the only African American physician willing to
make a public stand in Charleston., but he was certainly the most visible
physician treating the Baker family. As the surgeon in charge at the newly
opened Hospital and Training school, McClennan did not care for the family by
himself. Dr. J.R. Levy of Florence, South Carolina was instrumental in relocating
them to Charleston from their former home in Lake City. Dr. Lucy H. Brown, on
staff at the Hospital and Training School was also deeply involved in their long
term care. Neither Dr. Levy nor Dr. Brown maintained the high profile public
persona exhibited by Dr. McClennan.142
Dr. William D. Crum also a native son of South Carolina was a
contemporary and colleague of Alonzo McClennan. He served on the staff of the
Hospital and Training School during the years that The Hospital Herald was
published. He too would have been involved in the care of the Baker family. Like
McClennan, Crum was a member of Charleston’s elite black population and the
two men spent significant time together both professionally and socially. They
collaborated at the hospital and on The Hospital Herald.
While most of McClennan’s activities centered on the medical
environment, Crum became very involved in a wide arena of activities. In addition
to his successful medical practice, Crum served on the Board of Trustees for the
142
“Editorial,” The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 9, (August 1899), 5.
110
Avery Normal Institute. He was also heavily involved in Republican Party
politics.143
William Crum's involvement in so many public endeavors extended across
the color line. Although McClennan benefited by the good will of white people,
Crum’s position was far more dependent upon that good will. Crum was heavily
involved with the Hospital and Training School, at least during the period that The
Hospital Herald was being published. Despite that involvement he was less
inclined to make public controversial statements with regard to the racial climate
in Charleston. Crum could ill afford to antagonize local whites by publicly
defending black interests if he hoped to serve as a federal appointee in the
future.144
Not only African Americans risked crossing the racial lines drawn in
Charleston; some young white men did as well. The October 1899 issue of The
Hospital Herald announced that one of the new, young, white doctors in
Charleston, Dr. R.S. Cathcart, was attending a surgical patient in the Hospital
and Training School for Nurses. There was no further description of the patient or
the condition for which the patient was being treated; neither was there any
indication whether the patient was black or white. 145
At the turn of the previous century, it was common for young white doctors
in the South to treat any and all patients they could attract until their practice
143 Aristocrats of Color, 81; Dictionary of American Negro Biography, 144. William Crum’s
political activities are discussed in greater depth on pages 58- 64.
144 Willard B. Gatewood, "William D. Crum: A Negro in Politics." Journal of Negro History 53
(October 1968), 301.
145 "Hospital Notes,” The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 11 (October 1899), 2.
111
became large and lucrative enough for them to serve only white patients. In the
case of Dr. Cathcart, it is probable that the patient he treated at McClennan’s
hospital was black. The charity hospital in Charleston accepted black and white
patients, housing them in separate wards. Although McClennan’s hospital
accepted patients without regard to race, most of the patients were black
because white patients would have preferred to go the other hospitals in town.
Interestingly, McClennan made special note of Dr. Cathcart's case in the first
issue of The Hospital Herald. He hoped to encourage other physicians in town to
bring patients to his facility commenting that "Drs. Taft, Hunter and Whaley, who
have brought cases for surgical operation, have been welcomed and made to
feel at home. " Here he was demonstrating his willingness to work with fellow
physicians. In this case there is no indication if the aforementioned physicians
were black or white, but it was McClennan's goal to encourage any physician to
bring paying patients to his hospital. Increased usage would certainly help
maintain the fiscal solvency of that establishment. McClennan also hoped he
could forge a sense of interracial collegiality within the medical community of
Charleston. 146
This same October issue of The Hospital Herald included a reprint of an
article about the hospital's annual fundraiser originally published in the major
white Charleston newspaper, the News and Courier. The annual fundraising
event was held to raise desperately needed funds to keep the hospital financially
146
“Hospital Notes,” The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 11 (October 1899), 2 & 6.
112
solvent. The News and Courier covered the affair and provided favorable
publicity. According to the excerpt published in the News and Courier reported
that:
The head nurse at the hospital is an excellent disciplinarian
and the nurses are under good control. The Hospital and
Training School is quite different from other institutions, and
while they are styled generally as “girls,” none are admitted
under eighteen years of age and have already arrived at the
age of womanhood and discretion. Admissions to the school
are made generally through recommendations mostly from
ministers after passing the required examination, and if at any
time they are found not to come up to their recommendations
they are dismissed and their places given to more worthy
ones. The strict discipline at the hospital has given the friends
of the institution implicit confidence in its management and the
institution has received the hearty endorsement of the Colored
Ministers’ Union of this city.
The fair will close Friday night and it is hoped that all
classes of the citizens will attend and give assistance to an
institution that has such bright prospects for good in this
community and has already done so much for the poor and
deserving girls who desire to follow the profession of trained
nurses.-- News and Courier147
While applauding the work of the nursing school, the News and Courier
framed its coverage in a paternalistic attitude. The reporter referred to the nurses
as “girls,” a term often used to refer to black women regardless of their age. The
report also pointed out that the “nurses are under good control;” as if to reassure
the reader that these women are trained professionals and that no hint of
impropriety should be assumed. The reporter made it clear that the women who
were training at the hospital were vetted through a careful admissions process
147
The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 12 (November 1899), 7.
113
and their reputations were without reproach. He stressed the level of “discipline”
provided by the supervisors and stated that the black ministers had given the
endeavor their approval. This article was positive publicity for a black institution in
Charleston. It was also evident that the reporter was doing his utmost to
encourage city-wide financial support for an institution that he believed was of
value to the community.
When viewed in the context of the late 1890s, the praise for the school
and those training there was meant to show a superior level of professionalism.
Both the News and Courier and The Hospital Herald affirmed that the black
nurses being trained at The Hospital and Training School would reflect favorably
on the city and on their race. These were young women who were training for
paid employment in a society that placed the highest value on a woman’s ability
to stay at home and be supported by her husband. While staying at home may
have been possible for many white middle class women, it was rarely possible for
the majority of black women. For those students, social class was just as
important as race. The young women training to be nurses expected to be
treated as professionals and not as domestic workers. The article in the News
and Courier complemented the students and staff of the Hospital and Training
School for their achievements and respectability in spite of their race. This
attested to the niche that Alonzo McClennan had carved out in Charleston for
himself and the institutions he had created. His work was respected; his
achievements were acknowledged. In this particular instance, race was not the
114
overarching issue. Both McClennan and the nurses at his facility were afforded
the respect they had earned. McClennan's elite status was extended to those in
his employ and those whom he trained. There was no question regarding their
professionalism.
At the June 1899 meeting of the Hospital Association, Dr. McClennan and
Dr. Brown were asked by the members to conduct a fundraising trip to other
areas of South Carolina. Shortage of funds was an ongoing struggle for the
fledgling enterprise and it seemed that, like Booker T. Washington of Tuskegee,
McClennan was always courting potential donors. On Wednesday, July 19th,
McClennan and Brown arrived in Anderson, South Carolina, on one leg of their
state-wide journey. There they were met by a fellow physician and member of the
Association, Dr. Lawrence Earle, president of South Carolina’s Association of
Colored Physicians. It is apparent from McClennan’s account of the trip
published in the July issue of The Hospital Herald that Anderson was not a large
city. Earle “introduced them to nearly everybody in this beautiful town.” The
occasion was clearly pleasurable and productive based on the published
description of the day’s occurrences. “We were welcomed cordially, especially by
the white people, who seemed to have a special interest in the hospital and
training school. Dr. Earle has the good will of all the white people, and the good
will and all the practice of the colored people.” While at Anderson, Drs.
McClennan and Banks gave a formal presentation regarding the nature of the
work of the hospital, the school, and the services offered at each. Both believed
115
that their visit to Anderson was profitable not only because they had contacted
potential donors, but also because they had raised awareness of the usefulness
of the Hospital and Training School. While in Anderson they also recruited two
young women from the town who planned to matriculate at the school during the
next term.148
Although McClennan’s description of the fundraising trip was necessarily
positive, upbeat and enthusiastic, it was also evident that he was publicly
optimistic regarding opportunities for African Americans within the state of South
Carolina. Despite the racial oppression, he had decided to remain in the state
and to lobby to improve conditions for others of his race. He was a full participant
in society; not just black society, but society in general. He lobbied for improved
sanitation and clean water for all Charlestonians. He began a hospital, a training
school, and a medical journal. He worked in conjunction with powerful whites,
even those whose agendas differed from his own. McClennan also drew others
into the orb of his influence and power. This is evident in the relationships he built
with people throughout the state.
The November 1899 issue of The Hospital Herald included the
announcement of the marriage of Dr. Lawrence A. Earle to the daughter of
Republican politician Thomas E. Miller. At the time of the marriage, Miller was the
president of the State Negro College located in Orangeburg, South Carolina.
The Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 8 (July 1899), 14-15. (Emphasis present in the
original quote.)
148
116
Clearly this was a society wedding in every sense of the word. The
announcement in The Hospital Herald read like the society pages of a then
current newspaper; and in this case it served the same purpose. There was
much to celebrate as two successful, elite families were united by marriage. The
article described the affair in great detail, perhaps in part because Alonzo
McClennan served as one of Dr. Earle’s attendants. The couple married in the
newly constructed chapel at the college which was “crowded with friends from
Orangeburg, and many of the best white citizens witnessed the ceremony.” The
description of the wedding also mentioned the gifts presented to the couple
saying. “The presents were numerous, handsome and costly, and were received
from all portions of this State and other States. The colored physicians of the
State sent a handsome parlor clock with appropriate ornaments.” Following the
wedding was a “delightful supper,” but there was no mention of which guests
attended the supper.149
It was not unusual for white guests to attend the black weddings in the
South; that tradition existed under slavery. It was common for slave owners to be
present at the ceremonies of their slaves because in many cases their
permission was required for slaves to be married. Likewise, even when free
blacks were married, paternalistic whites were often present. The 1899 wedding
of Miss Miller and Dr. Earle, however, was an entirely different situation.
The college was created in 1896 as the first college in South Carolina for African Americans.
Hospital Herald, Volume 1, Number 12 (November 1899), 8.
149
117
The bride’s father participated in Republican Party politics beginning at the
end of Reconstruction. He served in the United States House of Representatives
and became a college president. Miller had many white associates and friends
who would have expected an invitation to the society wedding of his daughter. It
was at events such as this where the lines between social obligations and
fraternal friendships became blurry. The other element, which certainly would not
have been addressed in the press or anywhere except between close friends
behind closed doors was the issue of Miller’s skin color. In any city in America
where his family history was unknown, Thomas Miller would have been
recognized as a white man. However, Miller "was reputed to be…one-sixty-fourth
Negro." According to the racial climate of the American South in 1899, any black
ancestry meant that Miller was black. 150
Perhaps prominent white associates were more likely to be accepting of
friendship from Miller because his skin as white as, or whiter than, theirs. What
cannot be determined is which associations were friendships based on mutual
affection and which were relationships that were based on business and political
expediency. It is likely that in some cases, true friendship existed without regard
to the conventions of the color line. Where social events such as the marriage of
Dr. Earle and Miss Miller were concerned, the evidence was less apparent.
South Carolina Negroes, 48. Edmund L. Drago, Initiative, Paternalism and Race Relations:
Charleston’s Avery Normal Institute. (Athens, Georgia: The University of Georgia Press,
1990),130.
150
118
There was no list of personal friends and business associates to facilitate that
query. 151
What we do know about Miller is that in his mind, there was no color line.
The quote on his tombstone attest to his racial philosophy. He provided service
to his fellow man based on his perception of what was equitable and beneficial.
He seemed to put race in the same categories as social class, age or religion
believing that all people were entitled to the fullness of opportunities that society
could offer. The lavish wedding of his daughter to a popular, successful, young,
physician was evidence of Miller reaching out to many in the community. Earle
benefited through his association with Alonzo McClennan and it is likely that his
new father-in-law also provided a measure of security and privilege. Although
Earle had established his medical practice in Anderson prior to his wedding, the
familial association likely brought him a wider circle of acquaintances and
potential patients that helped sustain him as a rising, influential member of the
community. During the tumultuous era of Jim Crow in South Carolina, any
connections that could provide insulation from the brutality of racial oppression
were welcome indeed. 152
Although there are many questions that could be posed here, what we can
say is that in Charleston, South Carolina, during the era of Jim Crow, there was
It may have been easier for Miller to operate across class lines because his skin was so light
that he appeared white. Perhaps white colleagues made exceptions in their personal relations with
Miller because his personal appearance stood as a reminder how difficult it was to divide society
based on race.
152 Initiative, Paternalism and Race Relations, 162. Drago quotes the inscription on Miller’s
tombstone as evidence of Miller’s racial attitude. ”I SERVED GOD AND ALL PEOPLE, LOVING
THE WHITE MAN NOT LESS, BUT THE NEGRO NEEDED ME MOST.”
151
119
not complete oppression. There were powerful African American men in the
medical community who rose above the barriers of race. Men like Alonzo
McClennan, Lawrence Earle, Thomas Miller and William Crum forged substantial
relationships with powerful whites. They exerted their influence on the society in
which they lived and circumvented formidable racial barriers that many other
members of society could not. It was not the norm for most African Americans to
break through the color barrier in post-Reconstruction South Carolina, but some
men did. The simple fact that some physicians were able to flourish as they
defied the racial conventions that demanded obsequiousness gave hope to
others that they too could rise above the growing pressures of Jim Crow.
Following Reconstruction and well into the era of Jim Crow, Charleston
was a city of contradictions. Certainly the racial lines were hardening despite the
valiant efforts of an educated, talented, cosmopolitan black elite that had been in
place for over a hundred years. Some individuals managed to flourish and
succeed while the majority of the population was crushed by the reemergence of
the legacy of the Confederacy.
Politically, the black elite in Charleston were not effective players on the
national scene during the twentieth century. Perhaps South Carolina's
Republican Party caused the demise by its inability to nominate effective
candidates or perhaps it was simply that more opportunities for ambitious men
were available elsewhere. By the beginning of the twentieth century, South
Carolina's Republican Party was gradually disfranchised and ultimately wielded
120
little power on the national stage. For members of the party in Charleston, only
through the intervention of Booker T. Washington were a very few members of
the elite able to secure crumbs of political patronage. Following his death in
1915, there was no other person influential enough to champion the cause of
South Carolinians in the nation's capital. Effective Republican activism appeared
to remain functional longer in New Orleans than it did in Charleston. Members of
the African American elite in the Crescent City maintained their influential
presence at the national level longer than the Charleston cohort. In New Orleans,
extensive ethnic diversity provided a legacy of greater acceptance and
opportunity. 153
Black Carolinians, 196. Newby writes convincingly regarding the out-migration of many
members of the ambitious black elite.
153
The Social and Political influence of Elite African American
Politicians, Clergy and Physicians in New Orleans, Louisiana
Introduction
The city of New Orleans, Louisiana, boasts a heritage unlike any other in
American history. As a result, African American political power developed
differently in New Orleans than in any other American city. It was there, at the
mouth of the Mississippi River, that the French first established the port city of La
Nouvelle Orleans in 1718. The importance of New Orleans should not be
underestimated by historians seeking to understand the complex interpersonal
relations that existed across the color line in America. Settled first by France, it
was traded to Spain, then returned back to France before finally being sold to the
United States as part of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803. As a result of its
colonial history, New Orleans was a multicultural city from its inception. The
region’s ethnic diversity included Native American, French, Spanish, English and
African people. The blending of these diverse cultures, and their corresponding
121
122
traditions and religions, provided a unique environment for the development of
social and race relations in the Crescent City.154
Historian Kimberly Hanger argues that "slaves and free blacks had
more rights and opportunities …under Spanish rule than under French or United
States rule" in colonial Louisiana. The "small-scale society facilitated personal,
often intimate relationships that encouraged familiarity among all races,
nationalities and classes." This chapter will argue that unique patterns of
behavior became established in antebellum New Orleans. Those behaviors
created a multi-racial society there that continued long after Reconstruction. The
race and class structure that formed in New Orleans did not exist elsewhere in
the United States.155
Prior to the Civil War, the majority of African Americans living in
Louisiana were slaves, but there was a large influential free black population as
well. Following that war, many former slaves fled from the plantations to make
new lives in southern cities. The large influx of freedmen drastically changed the
social and political dynamics in New Orleans. Long time residents, black and
white, struggled to cope with the changes taking place as their city tried to
assimilate refugees from the plantations and transplants from the North. 156
Eric Foner, Give Me Liberty: An American History. (N.Y.;W.W. Norton & Company, Seagull
Edition, 2006),141;262. For a discussion on colonial New Orleans see Kimberly S. Hanger
Bounded Lives: Free Black Society in Colonial New Orleans, 1769-1803 (Durham, Duke
University Press, 1997)
155 Bounded Lives, 6.
156 Kelley, The Right to Ride: Streetcar Boycotts and African American Citizenship in the Era of
Plessy V. Ferguson. (Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press, 2010), 57. John Hope
154
123
Before the Civil War, in New Orleans, the gens de couleur libre
were at the pinnacle of black society. Many people were the acknowledged
children of long-term extramarital relationships, known as the plaçage system.
Acknowledgement of that system legitimatized relationships between free women
of color and wealthy white men. Some white men reared their families of color in
a society parallel to their legally sanctioned white families. In some cases, white
fathers provided their biracial children with dowries, college educations in the
North or Europe, and plantations or businesses with which they could earn a
living and pass on to their children. 157
Over time members of the gens de couleur libre established a
highly complex society in and around New Orleans. Members of this group
worked in conjunction with and along side the wealthiest members of white
society. Members of gens de couleur libre often had fair complexions, practiced
the Catholic faith, and spoke French as their primary language. Because they
had been reared living lives parallel to their white kin, these free people of color
shared many of the same hopes, fears and values as Catholic, French speaking
white Louisianans. During the 1860s, it was members of the gens de couleur
libre who stepped forward for military service as members of The Louisiana
Native Guard to protect their homes and investments, first for the Confederacy
but ultimately for the Union during the Civil War. They were among the first
Franklin and Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham., From Slavery to Freedom: A History of African
Americans, 9th edition (N.Y.: McGraw Hill, 2011), 169.
157 Black New Orleans, 17-19.
124
people of color to run for elective office in Louisiana during Reconstruction. Citing
Louisiana historian David C. Rankin, Willard B. Gatewood wrote: “the typical
black politician in New Orleans during the turbulent era of Reconstruction
possessed ‘unusual ancestry, uncommon wealth and exceptional ability’.”
Gatewood continues: “for the majority [of politicians] high social status predated
their entry into politics.” When the United States Congress passed the
Reconstruction Amendments legislating equality and citizenship for all people
born on American soil, members of the gens de couleur libre took their rightful
place beside their white relatives as the recognized leaders of Louisiana. 158
John Blassingame correctly argued that "antebellum patterns in
race relations and the increased political power of blacks led to an almost
unbelievably complex pattern between the races during Reconstruction." The
challenges of negotiating racial cooperation during Reconstruction were
constantly in flux, especially in New Orleans. Not only were the patterns of race
relations complex, but "relations between blacks and whites in New Orleans
swing like a crazy pendulum back and forth between integration and segregation
during the Reconstruction period." Most white people (especially wealthy
planters) wanted segregated facilities while the majority of black people wanted
Willard B. Gatewood, Aristocrats of Color: The Black Elite 1880-1920. (Fayetteville,
Arkansas: University of Arkansas Press, 2000), 13. Virginia Meacham Gould, in Chained to the
Rock of Adversity: To Be Free, Black and Female in the Old South, (Athens, The University of
Georgia Press, 1998) xxvii. John Hope Franklin and Alfred A. Moss, Jr., From Slavery to
Freedom: A History of Negro Americans. Sixth Edition, (N.Y.: Alfred A. Knopf, 1988), 145.
David C. Rankin, “Origins of Black Leadership in New Orleans During Reconstruction,” (p. 421)
quoted in Aristocrats of Color, 84.
158
125
unconditional integration. Neither side accomplished their objectives and many
people were frustrated with every outcome.159
This chapter argues that members of the African American elite
fully expected to expand their opportunities and equality well into the 19th
century, and beyond, as part of their birthright. Based on their ranking in New
Orleans society, they expected to be treated as colleagues and gentlemen by
everyone they encountered, even if they were not granted complete social
equality. Members of the black elite had their future and their wealth tied to the
white elite and they expected to participate in a working coalition to govern their
homeland.160
Although historians generally equate the end of Reconstruction with
the inauguration of Rutherford B. Hayes in 1877 as president of the United
States, in reality the social and political patterns of Reconstruction lingered on in
New Orleans. In January 1879, Louisiana's United States Senator " William P.
Kellogg [hosted] an integrated dinner party at Antoine's Restaurant." Antoine's
was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city and the affair hosted by a
United States Senator was an elaborate affair. If the code of race relations had
been rigid in New Orleans, Kellogg would not have been able to secure the elite
venue for an integrated event. That such a dinner took place attests to the
continued fluidity of race relations in New Orleans at the end of the 1870s.161
Black New Orleans, 217 & 173.
Black New Orleans, 155
161 Eric Foner, Give Me Liberty, 508. Rutherford B. Hayes was inaugurated in March 1877.
Antoine's Restaurant has been a landmark in New Orleans since the antebellum era. It was, and
159
160
126
Thus this chapter argues that the complexity of race relations in New
Orleans created an environment that allowed members of the African American
elite unique opportunities to straddle the color line that were not evident in other
southern cities. New Orleans had a social climate all its own and people
interacted there in ways that were not possible anywhere else in America.
Because New Orleans added multi-lingual and multi-cultural elements to its
society, race relations proved even more complex than in either Charleston or
Cleveland. In New Orleans, elite African Americans, particularly members of the
gens de couleur libre, possessed far more opportunities, privileges, and influence
than other men of their race in other southern cities. They also had far more
social and economic opportunities than most white southerners. Perhaps most
importantly, because of the acknowledged extended family relationships,
members of the African American elite in New Orleans had direct personal
access to powerful white men who depended on them for their knowledge and
insight even during times when civil rights were denied to the majority of African
Americans residing in the city.162
This chapter will also show that In some instances the power of elite
African Americans extended far beyond Louisiana. Some members of New
Orleans' black elite traveled widely as spokesmen for their race and for the
Republican Party. A few elite African American men attained real personal and
continues to be, owned by family members related to Frenchman Antoine Alciatore. Located on
St. Louis Street in the French Quarter of the city, the restaurant was, and continues to be, an
establishment that catered to people of status and wealth.; Black New Orleans, 189.
162 The Right to Ride, 57. John Hope Franklin and Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham., From Slavery
to Freedom, 169.
127
political power to influence the world they shared with prominent white men.
Therefore, this chapter shows that elite blacks in New Orleans approached the
color line with less deference than elite blacks in Charleston. In New Orleans
elite blacks sought to preserve and expand the legal rights promised by the three
amendments to the United States Constitution enacted during Reconstruction. 163
During the decades that followed Reconstruction, from 1880-1920, New
Orleans was the largest city in the South. In 1880, the population of the city of
New Orleans was more than two hundred thousand people; nearly one quarter of
the population of the entire state of Louisiana lived in the Crescent City. The
sheer size of the city made it important to the state and the region, but there were
other factors that made New Orleans unique to the discussion of the power of
elite African Americans after Reconstruction.164
163
164
Right to Ride, 51-83.
U.S. Census, 1880, Table 1a and table 3.
128
Strolling down Chartres and Royal Streets in New
Orleans …one passed dozens of elegant shops
and offices with proprietors named La Croix,
Dumas, Colvis, Fourcher, Legoaster, and
Forneret, all proper French surnames, all wealthy
businessmen of the ethnic group known as les
gens de couleur libre. Impeccably dressed, welleducated, and speaking the best French, the
owners of these shops would, in some cases,
have been difficult to distinguish from their white
French Creole counterparts.
-- Mary Gehman
In New Orleans, as perhaps in no other American
city, there were many cracks in the color line.
Negroes frequently interacted on terms of perfect
equality with whites in public institutions and in
social relations.
-- John Blassingame
The white race deems itself to be the dominant
race in this country… But in the view of the
Constitution, in the eye of the law, there is in this
country no superior, dominant, ruling class of
citizens. There is no caste here. Our Constitution
in color-blind and neither knows nor tolerates
classes among citizens. In respect of civil rights,
all citizens are equal before the law. The
humblest is the peer of the most powerful. The
law regards man as man and takes no account of
his surroundings or of his color when his civil
129
rights as guaranteed by the supreme law of the
land are involved…
---Supreme Court Judge John Marshall Harlan165
To understand fully the ways New Orleans differed from Charleston and
Cleveland, one must consider the important changes that occurred there during
the Civil War and its subsequent occupation by Union forces. When Louisianans
met in state convention during the winter of 1861 to vote on a motion of
secession the majority voted to leave the Union. However, a sizable contingent of
white men supported the Union and remained loyal to the United States during
the war years. Admiral Farragut's naval fleet sailed past the forts protecting New
Orleans and seized control of the city on April 24, 1862. A week later troops
under command of Union General Benjamin F. Butler occupied the city. Union
forces controlled the city for the remainder of the Civil War. 166
Because New Orleans fell under Union control so early during the war,
Reconstruction began earlier there than almost everywhere else in the South. "In
August of 1862, [General Benjamin Butler] ordered the enlistment of 'free
Negroes' " which soon included Louisiana's Native Guards. The Native Guards
165
Mary Gehman, "Visible Means of Support: Business, Professions, and Trades of Free People of
Color." in Sybil Kein, ed. Creole: The History and Legacy of Louisiana's Free People of Color
(Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press: 2000), 208. John W. Blassingame, Black New
Orleans,(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, nd) ,210. Dissenting opinion Judge Harlan
Supreme Court Case Plessy v. Ferguson 163 U.S. 537 (1896)
166 Joe Gray Taylor Louisiana Reconstructed 1863-1877 ( Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University
Press, 1974), 1-2.
130
were African American military units led by black officers who originally offered
their services to the Confederacy. They willingly switched their allegiance to the
Union Army when they realized such service was in their social and economic
interests.167
Beginning in 1862, the political situation in New Orleans was tenuous. The
majority of white southerners were not receptive to the Union forces that
governed the state. Louisiana held a constitutional convention the first Monday of
April 1864 to begin the process of formally reentering the Union. Citizens of the
state, including former Confederates were invited to take an oath of loyalty to the
United States and then to participate in the organizing convention. General
Nathaniel Banks, who by then had replaced General Butler, refused to let free
people of color participate. Historian Joe Gray Taylor argued that "the blacks of
New Orleans as a whole, were probably as well-qualified to vote intelligently as
were the while voters of the normal hill parish (sic) in Louisiana," yet Banks was
unwilling to challenge the status quo in the region he controlled.168
By April 1865, the Radical Republicans gained power in New Orleans and
elite African Americans allied with the Radicals campaigning for equal suffrage.
That spring, Henry Clay Warmoth emerged as a political power in the region. By
January 1868, the Republican Party was preparing for a gubernatorial election in
Louisiana. At their nominating convention an African American, Major Francis E.
Dumas, received the highest number of votes for candidate for governor. Next
167
168
Louisiana Reconstructed, 10-11.
Louisiana Reconstructed, 27.
131
behind him was Henry Clay Warmoth. Pinkney B.S. Pinchback was also
considered, but declined the nomination because he did not believe the state
was ready for an African American governor. 169
As the nominating process continued, Warmoth narrowly beat Dumas for
the candidacy. Major Dumas refused to run with Warmoth as the choice for
lieutenant governor. Instead members of the nominating convention proposed
Oscar J. Dunn, also African American. The ticket of Warmoth and Dunn were
elected in a special election in April 1868 and sworn into office on July 13,
1868.170
In this world of political turmoil, when relations between black and white
were tenuous at best, Walter Lewis Cohen (who later become the most powerful
African American Republican in Louisiana) spent his youth. Cohen an American
black, was born in New Orleans on the eve of the Civil War. In those tumultuous
times Walter Lewis Cohen embraced his mixed racial heritage. He took full
advantage of the many and varied opportunities available to him by successfully
straddling the color line throughout his long life. Cohen epitomized the
contradictions that defined the region. Instead of being hampered by race, Cohen
used his race to his advantage and embraced every opportunity that came his
way in post-Reconstruction New Orleans. 171
Louisiana Reconstructed, 73; 156.
Louisiana Reconstructed, 158.
171 John N. Ingham and Lynne B. Feldman, African-American Business Leaders: A Biographical
Dictionary. (Westport, Ct., Greenwood Press, 1994), 145. Cohen was defined as an American
black because he was born to English-speaking parents. Had he been born to a French speaking
family, he would have been classified as Creole or black Creole.
169
170
132
To understand Walter Cohen's place in New Orleans' culture, it is
important to understand the family line into which he was born. Cohen’s mother,
Amelia (also sometimes spelled Emilie), descended from the Bingaman family
that originated in Germany. It appears, based on genealogical evidence, that the
first Bingaman in this family line to immigrate to America was John Bingaman.
The date of his immigration is not recorded but there was evidence that he was
living on the Virginia frontier at the time of the French and Indian war. It is
unlikely that Bingaman would ever have imagined the vast wealth and land
holdings his descendents would attain and lose within the short span of three
lifetimes. John Bingaman would likely have been surprised that his family line
would be most recognized for a black descendent who would straddle the color
line and exert political power in a way that immigrant John Bingaman could never
have conceived.172
John Bingaman’s great- grandson, Adam Lewis Bingaman was born in
1793 in Natchez, Mississippi, to Adam Bingaman and the former Charlotte
Surget. Blessed with good looks, important social connections, and by this
generation, inherited wealth, young Bingaman had aspirations that would take
him far from the family lands. As a southern youth from a family with power and
172 Cohen's biography is presented in detail here to exemplify the political heritage from which he
emerged. Through the lineage of his wealthy, white relatives, Cohen had a political legacy that
strategically placed him squarely in the middle of one of the most unique political environments
in American history. Walter Cohen's ancestor, John Bingaman appears to have been born in
Germany in 1710. There is no record of the date of his arrival in America, but there is a record of
his family being attacked by Native Americans in the back-country of Virginia in 1763
Ancestry.com family history records of the John Bingaman family accessed at
http://trees.ancestry.com/tree/1957886/person/228292877/story/67fbf3ed-d4ef-46dc-ab6ed0c5239998d3?src=search August 10, 2012.
133
affluence, Adam Lewis temporarily sidestepped his plantation duties to go north
to study law at Harvard. While there he met and married Julia Maria Murray,
daughter of the famous writer and feminist Judith Sargent Murray. The couple
married in 1812 when Adam was eighteen years old and his bride twenty-one.
But this was not to be Bingaman’s only union. Julia lived long enough to provide
Adam with two children; she died in 1822, soon after the birth of their second
child, Adam Lewis. Sometime after the death of Julia, Adam entered into an
arrangement with a free woman of color, Mary E. Williams, who lived near
Bingaman’s Natchez, Mississippi home. It is unclear when the long-term
relationship began. Bingaman also had a long term relationship with Millie,
another woman of color. Millie gave birth to Amelia ( Emile) Bingaman, who was
born in 1837 in Mississippi. Amelia was emancipated in 1857 and at that time
she lived in New Orleans with Adam and Mary. In 1857 or 1858, Amelia
Bingaman married a white man of German and Jewish ancestry, Bernard Cohen.
Amelia and Bernard were the parents of Walter Cohen who was born a free
person of color in New Orleans in 1860. 173
John Bingaman married Katherine who was born in Scotland. Both Katherine, John and one
son, Adam, died in an Indian attack on their farm in New Pulaski River Virginia in July of 1775.
Christian Bingaman, whose primary language was German, was born to John and Katherine in
1735 in Virginia. According to genealogical records Christian was a commissioned officer in the
British Army during the French and Indian War. Christian married Charity in 1764 and their son
Adam was born in Buckingham, Virginia in 1767 (Buckingham, Virginia is west of Richmond near
the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. When Christian, Charity and one son were killed, a
wealthy widow supported the family. She It is likely that this was marginal land and when
opportunities for more fertile land became available, the family was eager to take advantage of
those opportunities.) The family moved to Natchez, Mississippi in 1777 where they established a
plantation. They were among the early settlers in the region that was initially controlled by Spain.
The Bingaman family left Natchez in 1778 because of hostilities during the Revolutionary War.
Christian died in West Feliciana Parish, Louisiana in 1778. In 1785, the Spanish governor at
173
134
As an adult, Walter Cohen became politically active playing an important
role in both Louisiana and national politics. His interest in politics may have
initially been nurtured by contact with politically powerful adults or perhaps it was
a learned skill inherited from his influential white grandfather, all of whom served
as mentors to the precocious young man. Cohen’s great-grandfather Adam
Lewis Bingaman was a major political player in his prime years and served on
the Mississippi Territorial Council in 1800. His son Adam Lewis was first elected
to the Mississippi State Senate in 1822 (at the age of 29) and also served as
President of the Mississippi State Senate from 1838 to 1840. During the federal
Nullification Crisis of 1828-1832, Adam Lewis Bingaman headed a Select
Committee in the Mississippi House of Representatives. At the time of the crisis,
Mississippi had not yet adopted a states' rights agenda. Having been admitted to
Natchez allowed Adam Bingaman to reclaim his father’s land near Natchez. It was on this
plantation that Adam Lewis Bingaman was the first-born to Adam L. Bingaman and Lousey
Ratcliff in 1793. There are three generations with the name Adam Lewis. The one born in 1793
appears to have been the first generation to depart from the industrious, hardworking nature of
his ancestors. This Adam Lewis studied law and graduated from Harvard. He was something of a
proverbial wild child. Bingaman married the daughter of famed Judith Sargent Murray who was
an early feminist, poet and essayist. As an adult he dabbled in politics, ran his plantation into the
ground and became obsessed with gambling on horse races. Like Thomas Jefferson, Bingaman
was obsessed with books. He had an extensive library, read widely in multiple languages
including Latin and Greek. Even when he was in financially reduced circumstances, his most
prized personal possessions included books. It was into this eclectic family that Walter Cohen was
born. Young Walter was a precocious child, initially educated by his grandfather and aunt. Living
in his white grandfather's household, he certainly would have had access to his grandfather’s
education, wisdom and library.
Some sources state that Amelia Bingaman (Walter Cohen’s mother and the daughter of Adam
Lewis) was emancipated in 1857. If Amelia was born a slave, it may have been because her mother
(Millie) was enslaved at the time of Amelia’s birth. What is clear is that by 1860, Amelia was living
in New Orleans with Bernard Cohen and that they are listed in the census as having 5 children
living with them, the youngest of whom is Walter who was listed as 5 months of age at the time
the census was taken.
Genealogical information accessed on Ancestry.com June 6, 2011. This information included
records from the 1850 U.S. Census and 1860 U.S. Census. Also see Harnett T. Kane, Natchez on
the Mississippi. (N.Y.: William Morrow & Company, 1947), 150-158; African-American Business
Leaders, 145-149.
135
the Union only a decade earlier, Mississippi was, in 1828, a strong Unionist state.
In principle, many people in Mississippi supported the sentiments espoused by
the State of South Carolina, but others approved of the protectionist leanings of
the tariff that prompted the crisis. In January 1833, Governor Scott of Mississippi
gave a speech affirming the validity of nullification. The text of his speech, as well
as resolutions from the states of Maine, New Hampshire and Pennsylvania, were
given to a committee headed by Adam L. Bingaman for consideration. Under the
leadership of Bingaman, members of the committee decided that allowing states
to nullify federal policy was tantamount to treason and that if allowed, the nation
would be in peril of dissolution. The committee agreed with President Andrew
Jackson that it was important to elevate the success of the nation above the
desires of the individual states. Bingaman skillfully guided the debate in the
committee and their final report showed overwhelming agreement that South
Carolina’s argument for nullification was ill-conceived. During the presidency of
Andrew Jackson, Mississippi remained solidly behind the Union and condemned
the actions taken by the state of South Carolina. 174
Adam Lewis Bingaman went on to become a loyal member of the
Whig Party. It is interesting to note that although Bingaman was a strong
Mississippi Statehood 1817; Cleo Heron, “Nullification in Mississippi.” Mississippi Historical
Society (Volume 12, 1912) Accessed at http://www.datasync.com/~jtaylor/Nullif.htm June 7,
2011 At the time of the Nullification Crisis, the population of Mississippi was still quite small.
They had the obligatory two members of the United States Senate and only one representative in
the United States House of Representatives. The committee headed by Bingaman was appointed
to study the Nullification issue and provide recommendations for state policy. Ultimately, the
committee voted 30:3 in favor of continued loyalty to the Nation and to censure the actions taken
by South Carolina.
174
136
supporter of President Andrew Jackson, he also chose to align with the party that
was anti-Jacksonian in nature. Bingaman believed that a protective tariff was
necessary but believed that Jackson claimed far too much power for the federal
government. At the time of the Nullification Crisis, Bingaman did not believe it
necessary to exert the premise of state's rights. At the time he believed it was an
issue that would compromise the very fabric of the nation. In his political life,
Bingaman appeared less interested in party loyalty than he was in what he
believed was proper governance. With the luxury of hindsight, it should be
obvious that Bingaman's choices at that moment of political crisis foretold the
type of conflicted loyalties this complicated man later exhibited. Nearly thirty
years after the Nullification Crisis, Bingaman lived openly, despite public
condemnation, with a free woman of color and the children they had together. 175
The divided loyalties exhibited by Adam Bingaman were representative of the frontier spirit
inherent in the family’s path to power. He supported his president, but pledged allegiance to the
party created to destroy that very man. He rejected nullification as treasonous, but believed in the
right to reject that which would hamper economic prosperity. While he worked for economic
success he squandered the wealth that was his legacy.
The history of the Bingaman family is one of reasoned risk taking, hard work and compromise.
The earliest Bingaman’s battled disease, Indian attacks and nature as they worked to carve out en
empire that would establish them as a tour de force in antebellum society. Adam Lewis Bingaman
was responsible for the highest success of the family but also its destruction. It was during his
lifetime that power was consolidated. Adam Lewis Bingaman inherited several plantations from
relatives on his maternal side providing the wealth necessary to achieve economic greatness. His
intelligence should have allowed him to perpetuate that legacy, but his weakness was horses. He
scoured the nation and the continent to find the best breeding stock. Not content to raise
champion racers, Bingaman was obsessed with gambling at the races. His addictions to fine
horses, high living and gambling risked all that previous generations had labored to build. The
inherent brilliance of intellect, perfect manners and charm, and great wealth allowed Bingaman to
wield substantial political power during his prime years. Bingaman was a complex individual. It
should not be surprising that he would choose his women without regard to social conventions. As
a rebellious youth he married a northern girl from a controversial family, but one which his
southern relatives could accept because her uncle had been governor of Mississippi. Natchez on
the Mississippi, 150-158; 1850 U.S. Census; 1860 U.S. Census.
175
137
During the late antebellum period, long after the death of his wife Julia
Maria Murray, Bingaman lived in New Orleans with Mary E. Williams, his “Negro”
mistress, “where he reportedly flaunted his mixed family in public.” There is no
record that Bingaman legally married Mary, but in private correspondence
announcing the marriage of one of their daughters, Mary E. Williams signed a
letter “M.E. Bingaman”. In choosing to live openly with a woman of color, and by
publicly acknowledging that conjugal relationship, Adam Bingaman chose to
straddle the color line. Although he had been born a privileged white man, and
profited by the peculiar institution that enabled him to amass and enjoy great
wealth, he certainly defied that institution (and conventional southern custom) by
living openly with his mistress. By the end of his life in 1869, Bingaman was
bankrupt, but he was still financially solvent at the time he moved to New
Orleans. The 1850 census lists his personal wealth in excess of forty thousand
dollars. Even as late as the 1860 census he declared fifty thousand dollars worth
of real estate and two hundred thousand dollars of personal wealth.176
Walter L. Cohen was classified as an American black according to the
traditions of New Orleans' society when he was born to Bernard Cohen and
Amelia Bingaman January 22, 1860. When Walter Cohen was born his
grandfather, Adam Lewis Bingaman, was sixty-seven years old. Bingaman
continued to live in New Orleans with members of his biracial family after the Civil
William Kauffman Scarborough, Masters of the Big House: Elite Slaveholders of the MidNineteenth Century South. ( Baton Rouge, Louisiana State University Press, 2006), 27;
Correspondence of M.E. Bingaman (Mary E. Williams) to Mrs. Johnson, April 21, 1860,
published in Gould, Chained to the Rock of Adversity, 36; African-American Business Leaders,
145.
176
138
War. Beginning at the age of five, Walter spent considerable time at his
grandfather’s home where he was tutored by his aunt, another one of
Bingaman’s daughters, who was known as “Teenie.” Walter was an extremely
precocious child and it is likely that Walter heard the stories at that time of his
grandfather’s youth, both the social exploits and the political experiences. When
his grandfather Bingaman died in 1869, Walter was old enough to have
established substantial memories of his grandfather. Walter inherited his
grandfather’s intelligence and certainly benefited from his grandfather’s excellent
education, although Walter never attended an Ivy League institution. Despite
being the grandson of a prominent white southerner, Walter was not born with a
silver spoon in his mouth. He was fortunate enough to attend Catholic school
until 1869. It is unclear why Cohen left school at that time. It may have been by
choice or it may have been an economic necessity. That year did not mark the
end of his formal schooling, however. Later in his youth, Cohen furthered his
formal education at Straight University in New Orleans. 177
Based on his multiracial heritage and the manner in which he lived his
early years, it should not be surprising that Walter Cohen manifested the same
177 Saying that Cohen was an American black meant that he was not of French (Creole) ancestry.
His father was of German and Jewish ancestry and his mother was born a slave but was
emancipated before Walter Cohen was born. For that reason Walter Cohen was born free and was
considered an American black. Ancestry.com http://search.ancestry.com/cgibin/sse.dll?gl=ROOT_CATEGORY&rank=1&new=1&so=1&MSAV=1&msT=1&gss=ms_f2_s&gsfn=Adam+l&gsln=Bingaman&msddy=1869&msdpn__ftp=New+Orleans%2C+Orleans%2
C+Louisiana%2C+USA&msdpn=34322&msdpn_PInfo=8|0|1652393|0|2|3246|21|0|2249|34322|0|&_83004002=caucasian&cpxt=0&catBucket=rst&uid
h=v32&_83004003-n_xcl=f&cp=0 accessed August 14, 2012; American Business Leaders, p.
145. Ingham wrote that Amelia (a slave) was freed in 1857 and married Bernard Cohen who was
white and born in New Orleans- Bernard Cohen's birth comes from 1860/ 1870/1880 census New
Orleans: Louisiana Weekly, March 20, 1926.
139
practical reaction towards race evinced by his grandfather. The Walter Cohen
who straddled the color line in post-Reconstruction New Orleans was a
pragmatic man. He could not afford to antagonize a Booker T. Washington or a
Marcus A. Hanna, two men with whom he developed intimate social and political
relationships. Daily life for black elites was a constant negotiation. Politics, like
life itself, was a cultural mine-field in Louisiana from the 1880s through the early
1900s. To be a successful black man in politics, or any endeavor, in Louisiana at
that time required extraordinary abilities, exceptional personal bravery, and an
innate sense of self-worth. Recognizing that reality and making light of his
complicated racial and religious heritage, Cohen was said to have remarked that
he "embodied the three groups that the Ku Klux Klan was most bitterly
attacking… a black, a Jew and a Catholic.” That comment was not selfdeprecating; it was simply an acknowledgement of what it meant to be an elite
black man living in a white-dominated southern society. Every public effort,
whether political or financial, made powerful men like Cohen a target for white
men who resented the intelligence and abilities of powerful members of the
African American elite.178
African American Business Leaders, 145-50. (KKK quote page 145) After leaving St. Louis
Catholic School , Walter went to work leaning the cigar making trade. Like many other men of his
era, Cohen read widely and continued his education throughout his life. Although W.E.B. Dubois
had the good fortune to complete his PhD .at Harvard, many others, like George A. Myers,
Charles W. Chesnutt and Booker T. Washington had to content themselves with the path of self
education for their ultimate intellectual fulfillment. For evidence of Cohen's personal
relationships with Booker T. Washington and Marcus A. Hanna, see the Booker T. Washington
Papers and the George A. Myers Papers, passim.
178
140
As a young man, Cohen worked in a wide variety of jobs ranging from
cigar maker to bartender, to clerk. Eventually he became a successful and
respected businessman. His first introduction to politics took place during
Reconstruction when as a youth Cohen served as a page in Louisiana's
Reconstruction Legislature. During his tenure as a page, he developed important
personal and working relationships with Oscar J. Dunn (Louisiana’s first black
Lieutenant Governor), C.C. Antoine (also a Louisiana Lieutenant Governor); and
future Louisiana Governor Pinkney Benton Stewart Pinchback. The close
personal relationship that developed between Cohen and Pinchback lasted
throughout Pinchback’s life. The successes that these African American
politicians enjoyed and the life-lessons they provided must have served as an
example for Cohen. Their accomplishments proved that it was possible to create
working relationships across the color line. These politicians had no choice but to
forge useful interracial relationships during the Reconstruction Era, some
egalitarian others paternalistic. As they built these relationships, they enjoyed
some success and dreamed of more in the future; unfortunately they also lived to
witness the bitterness of Redemption in the Deep South. Cohen learned to
negotiate relationships across the color line by closely observing his mentors in
action. He glimpsed the vision of what was possible as a child during
Reconstruction and as an adult he struggled to maintain that forward trajectory.
179
179
African American Business Leaders, 145-6. Pinchback lived until 1921. At that time Cohen was
141
Walter Cohen was not single-minded in his vision of the future. He was not
a scalawag capitalizing on the misery of the devastated South, neither was he
resigned to the notion that he would have to accept second class citizenship by
virtue of his mixed racial heritage. He was simply a young man coming of age in
a time of change. His advancement to maturity coincided with the end of
Reconstruction, the political bargain that removed Federal troops from the South
and began the restoration of power to the class that ruled the state before the
war. It is easy to say in retrospect that total disenfranchisement of blacks was
inevitable, but for those who endured the era of transition, that pending
disappointment was not a foregone conclusion.
When Glenda Gilmore writes, in Gender and Jim Crow, of what she calls
"the black middle class in the years before 1920," she cautions her readers
against believing that "the class constructions that exist now existed in the past."
Gilmore argues that "the better classes [members of the black elite]
…understood their adoption of Victorian values as an application of their own
Christian principles." They believed "they belonged among the best men and
women regardless of color." The idea of Victorian standards were not white
standards. They prescribed a code of behavior based on religious and societal
standards. Throughout the Victorian and Progressive Eras, many African
American elites sustained their belief that they could play a formative role in
60 years of age. For evidence of Pinchback’s relationships across the color line see Black New
Orleans, 160 and 188-189.
Oscar Dunn (the first black Lt. Governor of a state- Louisiana);C.C. Antoine (served as a captain
in the Louisiana Native Guard; as a Louisiana State Senator and also as Lt. Governor of
Louisiana.) Ingham, 145; 31-36.
142
shaping the society in which they lived. Optimism allowed them to believe that
the setbacks in race relations were only temporary and that reason would soon
prevail.180
Walter Cohen was among that group of "best men" who endeavored to
transcend race. Had he chosen to move away from his home, and the people
who knew him, he could easily have passed for white and begun life anew. That
was not the path he chose. His path to financial and political success was not
direct nor was it single dimensional. Cohen's early experience as a legislative
page allowed him a bird’s eye view of politics where he cultivated relationships
with some of the most powerful men in the Louisiana. The necessity of earning a
living demanded a practical approach to business, one that would serve him in
his other endeavors. There is some inconclusive evidence that Cohen may have
been a bit of a scoundrel in his youth, that he was not always on the correct side
of the law. However, he married at a young age and settled down to a life busy
with family obligations, sports, fraternal organizations and politics. By the time he
approached middle-age (around the turn of the twentieth century), he had
created a firm aura of respectability and his life was, for the most part, that of a
conservative businessman and politician. Not only did Cohen emerge as the
dominant black political force in Louisiana, but he was also part owner of a
number of successful businesses including People’s Industrial Life Insurance and
Glenda Elizabeth Gilmore Gender and Jim Crow: Women and the Politics of White
Supremacy in North Carolina, 1896-1920 (Durham, University of North Carolina Press, 1996),
xviii-xix.
180
143
People’s Drug Stores. His independent financial resources allowed him to play
the political game without relying on political patronage for economic stability. 181
Financial security, independent of political patronage, was one resource
that enabled successful members of the elite to straddle the color line. Black
politicians who were economically dependent on white patronage, and there
were many, did not have the luxury to straddle the color line. They were indebted
to paternalistic white politicians who would provide the necessary
recommendations for continued employment. Those middle class blacks who
depended on civil service employment could not command the same levels of
respect that were apparent among members of the elite with independent
incomes. Successful black businessmen, those who had secure incomes from
the private sector, were able to assert their political independence because they
had economic independence. They could interact with powerful white men on
almost equal terms, because they did not depend on them economically, thereby
Gender and Jim Crow, p. xix. Correspondence between Booker T. Washington and national
politicians indicates that Washington had been made aware of the rumors regarding Cohen’s early
life. Even as late as 1909, B. T. Washington was still looking into allegations regarding Cohen's
private life. Washington did not want to support the efforts of a black man who could tarnish his
reputation; therefore Washington conducted inquiries into the background and reputation of
Cohen. After exhaustive searches, Washington concluded that Cohen had abandoned the excesses
of his youth and was worthy of his trust. In a letter to Washington dated June 3, 1909, an African
American minister in New Orleans (Robert Elijah Jones) acknowledged that Cohen drank
alcohol, sometimes gambled and even broke the Protestant traditions of keeping the Sabbath Day
holy. While such behaviors might limit an individual seeking high office, they were not in conflict
with the Creole Catholic standards of the city in which Cohen lived. It is likely that Washington
was aware of this and did not consider Cohen’s reputed “sins” as egregious. Washington was far
more concerned with the need to keep qualified, talented, influential, supportive black men in
positions of prominence. If Cohen had abused the public trust or acted in a corrupt manner,
Washington would have used his influence to remove Cohen from the public eye. Robert Elijah
Jones to Booker T. Washington June 3, 1909; Correspondence Booker T. Washington to
(President) William Howard Taft, April 23, 1909.; Walter Cohen was active in the Negro Leagues
Baseball. He played in and managed a New Orleans team called the Pinchbacks. Black New
Orleans, 143; African American Business Leaders, 146.
181
144
presenting a measure of equality. This is not to suggest that members of the elite
had the luxury of being bellicose or impertinent; it simply meant that it was not
necessary for them to measure every word and deed against possible negative
outcomes. They had the luxury of being frank with their opinions and could offer
personal viewpoints in the company of whites. For members of the black elite,
their recognized superior class status, their comparable educational attainment,
an obvious level of culture and an independent economic status allowed them
the freedom to straddle the color line in ways that less privileged members of
society could not. This is an indication that among select groups of upper class
people, status, class and demeanor were ranked as more significant
characteristics than color. Class trumped color.
In Louisiana, during the William McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt
administrations, the Black and Tan Republicans, led by elites Walter L. Cohen
and James Lewis, fought bitterly with the Lily White Republicans, led by former
Governor Henry Warmoth. The Black and Tans claimed to represent the majority
of Louisiana Republicans while the Lily Whites claimed they represented the
masses and did their best to eliminate black influence in the state. Walter Cohen
held significant personal power during these years. Even as the dreaded Jim
Crow gained ascendancy, Walter Cohen managed to maintain power. In
September 1902, Walter Cohen wrote his friend George A. Myers asking if Mark
Hanna had intentions of running on the Republican ticket for President of the
United States. Cohen and Myers were stalwart supporters of the Hanna political
145
machine. So dedicated was Cohen that he told Myers "If Mr. Hanna is going into
the fight I am ready and willing to make any sacrifices to go along with him …"
Cohen had worked tirelessly to help secure the election for William McKinley in
service to Mark Hanna. He was willing to repeat that effort if Hanna made a run
for the presidency. It was this level of service and commitment that made Cohen
a major political player at the national level. 182
Unfortunately, by 1902, the influence of the Republican Party was waning
in the South. President Theodore Roosevelt was attempting to regain some
Republican influence there by favoring the Lily-White Republicans to the
exclusion of the Black and Tans. Certainly, at least in Louisiana, the nadir had
arrived. The precedent set by the Plessy v. Ferguson Supreme Court Case
allowed separate but equal to become the standard throughout the South.
Although the Black and Tan faction of the Republican Party no longer
wielded significant power in the South, Walter Cohen still exerted a measure of
influence through the personal alliances he maintained locally and nationally.
During the first decade of the twentieth century, when white Louisiana
Republicans tried to discredit Cohen with false charges of corruption, men like
Ohio Senators Charles Dick and Marcus Hanna provided generous personal
endorsements of his character. Walter Cohen was not a low-level political
operative, nor was he simply a name on paper to powerful senators and the
presidents he helped elect; he was personally well known to Mark Hanna,
Walter Cohen to George A. Myers, September 14, 1902, George A. Myers Papers (hereafter
cited as GAM Papers), Ohio Historical Society, Columbus, Ohio.
182
146
Charles Dick and William McKinley and was at times a visitor to the Oval Office.
Cohen was an influential campaigner, an indefatigable organizer and a loyal
party member. These qualities made him invaluable to politicians at the national
level. Because Cohen's work during the election of 1896 was so important,
President McKinley created a new federal agency based in New Orleans, The
United States Land Office. Walter Cohen was appointed to head that bureau in
1898.183
Enlisting the help of George A. Myers from Cleveland, Walter Cohen
fought to keep the Black and Tan Republican's influence alive in Louisiana after
1902. When the Louisiana Lily-White faction tried to eliminate the Black and Tan
Republicans, Cohen requested that Myers appeal to the United States Senator
from Ohio Charles Dick to secure a proxy vote from Ohio Governor Myron T.
Herrick if Herrick was unable to attend the Republican National Committee
meeting as he had originally planned. Cohen believed that the influence from
Ohio's senator or governor would be enough to secure continued representation
for Louisiana's Black and Tan contingent. Cohen urged Myers to support his
appeal writing, "When [I was last] in Washington I saw Senator Dick and spoke to
him on the Louisiana situation. He is a stalwart and a friend." Cohen trusted that
183 African American Business Leaders, 146; Booker T. Washington Papers, footnote 1, volume 6,
494; footnote 3, volume 7, 181; Theodore Roosevelt to Booker T. Washington, May 9, 1904,
Washington Papers volume 7, 497-98; Emmett Jay Scott to Booker T. Washington, June 22 and
June 23, 1904, BTW Papers. Despite the attempts by Lily White Republicans to oust Cohen from
the political arena, through the strength of his personal performance and with Booker T.
Washington's influence, Cohen continued to participate in Republican National Conventions.
Senator Dick of Ohio (part of Mark Hanna's political machine who replaced Hanna as Ohio's
senator after the death of Hanna) joined the fray in support of Cohen demanding that he retain
his position as a Louisiana state delegate.
147
the pressure exerted by Ohio Republicans would be sufficient to keep the Black
and Tan faction functioning in Louisiana. 184
Despite the best efforts of the white politicians, members of the Louisiana
Lily White faction were unable to oust Cohen from the political realm. Cohen had
too many politically powerful friends in high places and was nationally recognized
by the Republican Party as a hard-working operative capable of delivering on the
promises he made. During the 1920s, white Republicans at the national level
continued to back both Walter Cohen and his associate James Lewis (both from
Louisiana), even when it was no longer popular or expedient to do so. Even after
African Americans and the Republican Party had been virtually disfranchised in
Louisiana, Cohen maintained his power and continued to have political influence
at the national level. 185
Under the leadership of Cohen, Lewis, P.B.S. Pinchback and James
Madison Vance, the Black and Tan Republicans continued to exert influence in
the South long after the nadir because of the personal and professional networks
they had established nationally across the color line. Their influence continued in
part because they had one foot in each world, but also because they lived in
neither. As perpetual outsiders, they were able to provide a more balanced
assessment of the demands and counter-demands presented by each faction.
Walter Cohen to George A. Myers, May 26, 1904, GAM Papers.
Emmett Jay Scott to Booker T. Washington, April 1, 1909, BTW Papers. Cohen retained power
until his death in 1929. See Adam Fairclough, Race and Democracy: The Civil Rights Struggle in
Louisiana 1915-1972. (Athens: University of Georgia Press, second edition 2008), 11.
184
185
148
They also refused to allow blacks to be disfranchised simply based on color.
They played a unique role that other politicians were unable to fill.186
Emile Kuntz, a white investment banker in New Orleans, was closely allied
with Walter Cohen and also participated in the Black and Tan organization.
Walter Cohen and Emile Kuntz met with President William Howard Taft at the
White House less than a month after his 1909 inauguration to discuss the
political conditions in their home state. According to a report made to Booker T.
Washington by his personal secretary Emmett Jay Scott, President Taft "asked
them [Cohen and Kuntz] to let him know whom they wanted & went further to
[and] told Cohen he deserved recognition & that he wanted him (Cohen) to write
him regularly & let him know of conditions in the South & especially in Louisiana."
Taft's request was not meant to merely pacify Cohen. Taft trusted Cohen and
was able to obtain information from him that would be difficult to obtain any other
way. It was Taft's way of staying aware of the racial dynamics in the South. 187
Also in the report Scott informed Washington that the president told Cohen
that "he had told you [Washington] of his intention to reappoint him [Cohen] - &
when Cohen mentioned about the pay of the place he said the consolidated
office sh'd (sic) be located at New Orleans and that Cohen ought to receive a
satisfactory salary." Clearly, Booker T. Washington was part of the negotiations
even though he was not present at either the nation's capitol or in New Orleans.
Race and Democracy, 10-11.
Emmett Jay Scott to Booker T. Washington, April 1, 1909, BTW Papers. Emmett Scott
appeared to be in Washington D.C. and was reporting to Booker T. Washington the political
events as they occurred. His first communication was by telegram, detailed correspondence
followed an initial brief report.
186
187
149
Emmett Scott was Washington's informant in Washington, D.C. and this postinauguration meeting was part of President Taft's agenda to keep whatever
power he could maintain in the South.188
Walter Cohen was well known to powerful whites in New Orleans.
President Taft told Cohen that he planned to keep him as a political appointee
and that he "was pleased with the letters from white business men asking
Cohen's reappointment, & had already told Senator Foster [of LA] he intended
recognizing colored men in that state" despite Louisiana's worsening racial
climate. Even though the Republican Party had lost much of its influence in
Louisiana by 1909, the Taft administration still believed it was in their best
interest to placate Louisiana's powerful blacks. Walter Cohen remained the most
influential African American in Louisiana until his death in 1930. 189
James Lewis, a close personal friend and long-time business partner with
Walter Cohen was also heavily involved in Louisiana Republican Party politics.
For a time Lewis and Cohen served together as delegates at the National
Republican Conventions. Like Cohen, Lewis belonged to Booker T. Washington’s
inner circle of trusted advisors. In 1901, just weeks after the assassination of
President McKinley, Lewis penned a warning to Washington urging caution when
Emmett Jay Scott to Booker T. Washington, April 1, 1909, BTW Papers.
Emmett Jay Scott to Booker T. Washington, April 1, 1909, BTW Papers. Scott reported to
Washington detailing the events that transpired when Walter Cohen and Emile Kuntz (white) met
together with President Taft. Cohen and Kuntz complained to President Taft about President
Roosevelt's failure to support the Black and Tan Republicans in Louisiana. President Taft
specifically asked Cohen to keep him apprised of the conditions in the South and told Cohen of his
intentions to keep him as a political appointee. Senator Murphy J. Foster was the Governor of
Louisiana 1892- 1900 and then served as U.S. Senator from 1901- 1913.
188
189
150
dealing with white Republicans who claimed to represent the best interests of
black southerners. Specifically Lewis wrote:
It is a fact that the class of Men who are in control of
the Republican Party Machine in the South, are not
the best among the White or Colored
Republicans…General Grant while President, always
consulted with representative Colored Men in their
respective Southern States, before making
appointments, by this means worthy men received
recognition, which is not so general now among both
White and Colored.”190
Lewis and Washington understood the urgency for planning a new racial
strategy while they mourned the fallen president. As influential members of the
race they tried to foresee how the transition of power from McKinley to Roosevelt
would impact their world. Although not racially egalitarian in the modern sense of
the word, President McKinley had courted the black vote both in the North and in
the South making him popular with many members of the African American elite
in both the North and the South. McKinley was keenly aware of the importance in
recognizing blacks who supported his candidacy and he attempted to recognize
the contributions of valued supporters. He made an informed effort to provide
substantive patronage positions to influential black party operatives and to confer
with Booker T. Washington and other black leaders such as Cleveland's George
James Lewis to Booker T. Washington , October 5, 1901. BTW Papers. James Lewis and
Walter Cohen were co-owners of the People’s Drug Stores and the People’s Industrial Life
Insurance Company. Although Theodore Roosevelt’s record with regard to treatment of blacks
was spotty at best, he did appoint Cohen to the position of Registrar of United States Land based
in New Orleans. Later, when there were no more available federal lands in the vicinity of New
Orleans, the three positions of Registrar of United States Land for the State of Louisiana were
consolidated and only one registrar was required. At that time, the office was moved to a more
rural area of Louisiana. Cohen was offered the same job in a new location but he refused stating
that he had lived in New Orleans for his entire life and had no plans to relocate. African American
Business Leaders,146.
190
151
A. Myers, Louisiana's Walter Cohen and Benjamin Arnett (who spend substantial
time in Ohio, but was not limited to that area). 191
Although McKinley was not ideal in terms of providing political
opportunities for black men, he was relatively accommodating for his time.
George A. Myers knew and associated personally with McKinley for years before
his ascendance to the presidency. Long after McKinley's death George Myers
wrote, "I first met Major McKinley in the early 80's, when he was in Congress. He
was always the same and a very lovable man…I got to see much of him and was
one of the delegates to the Ohio State Convention that nominated him for
Governor of Ohio." In this way, Myers affirmed McKinley's willingness to
personally accept members of the African American elite and to allow them their
Constitutional rights as fellow citizens without regard to race. Some members of
the black elite enthusiastically supported McKinley's candidacy and his
presidency. For them he was not simply a Republican candidate, but a man they
knew well, a man of principles who was worthy of respect. 192
President McKinley was responsible for Walter Cohen’s appointment to
the position of Customs Inspector for the port of New Orleans. Cohen was
rewarded with this appointment for his substantial contributions to the McKinley
presidential campaign. Following the assassination of President McKinley, race
Booker T. Washington to William McKinley, April 10, 1899 (regarding implementation of the
census in the South); May 9, 1899 (request for patronage); October 24, 1899 (regarding a Negro
exhibit at the Paris Exposition) for samples of the relationship between McKinley and
Washington. BTW Papers.
192 George A. Myers to James Ford Rhodes, February 16, 1923, John A. Garrity, editor. The Barber
and the Historian: The Correspondence of George A. Myers and James Ford Rhodes, 1910- 1923.
(Columbus: Ohio Historical Society, 1956), 148-149.
191
152
relations in America suffered a dramatic decline. Although southern black
Republicans tried to remain optimistic, the treatment they received during the
subsequent presidencies of Theodore Roosevelt and Taft made President
McKinley appear generous in contrast. 193
Walter Cohen understood the significance of that shift after the
inauguration of President Roosevelt. In 1902 Cohen demonstrated the
importance of straddling the color line when he consulted with George A. Myers
of Cleveland following the death of a New Orleans African American political
appointee. Cohen was very concerned that the position previously held by an
African American might be given to a white man because of the changing political
climate in his city. In an attempt to prevent such an occurrence, Cohen assessed
possible candidates and laid the groundwork in preparation for another African
American appointee. In his letter to Myers (a member of Cleveland's African
American elite and confidant to Senator Mark Hanna) Cohen wrote: "I am actively
engaged at present in getting up all the data to make a fight for a colored man
without saying what colored man. In doing this I think I can hold the man and the
brother together better. (my emphasis) Of course I will do nothing before
consulting Senator Hanna and Gen. Dick." As a long-time member of New
Orleans' Republican Party, Cohen had the political connections to wield
Letters between Booker T. Washington and others show Washington's efforts to keep Cohen in
power. Walter L. Cohen, June 4, 1909; Booker T. Washington to Charles Dyer Norton, July 30,
1910; Emmett Jay Scott, Memorandum, March 4, 1910, BTW Papers. For a discussion of
President Theodore Roosevelt's deteriorating relationships with African Americans, see Darlene
Clark Hine, William C. Hine and Stanley Harrold The African American Odyssey: A Concise
History Combined Volume, (Upper Saddle River, N.J.: Pearson, 2006), 392 for an account of the
Brownsville Affair.
193
153
enormous power, yet he was wise enough not to anger the most powerful
Republicans in the nation, who included Senators Dick and Hanna of Ohio. 194
Cohen realized that his ability to straddle the color line made him one of
the few men in New Orleans who had the ability to unite contentious black and
white Republicans, hence his comment "hold the man and the brother together."
Cohen understood that the tide was turning. The decision rendered in Plessy v..
Ferguson made that clear; however, he still hoped that with sufficient diplomacy
and negotiation, African Americans could continue the path to complete equality.
195
For men like James Lewis and Walter Cohen, political life and professional
life were tightly entwined. This was true for many members of the black elite.
Time not spent on business or politics went to meetings and events sponsored
by social clubs. In New Orleans, membership in organizations such as the
Société d’Economique and the Iroquois Literary and Social Club was highly
prized. Although the names of the organizations suggest that they were financial
or social, they were in fact organizations supported by “politically active men of
the city’s social elite.” In an era before national sports and media superstars,
politics was a national pastime. Cohen was “for many years president of the
Walter Cohen to George A. Myers, January 18, 1902 & September 14, 1902, GAM Papers.
Mark Hanna was head of the political machine that secured the presidential election for President
William McKinley. "General" Charles Dick was also a Republican He served as a member of
Congress from Ohio and later replaced Mark Hanna in the U. S. Senate after Hanna's death.
195 Plessy v Ferguson was the Supreme Court decision rendered in 1896 that declared the legality
of "separate but equal" condoning racial segregation in the United States.
194
154
Iroquois” and his prominence there translated into political participation at the
national level. He was also president of the Société d’Economique. 196
Members of specific social clubs used their membership as an indication
of respectability. Men who joined these organizations did not simply mimic the
behavior of whites; they were enjoying the company of like-minded individuals
who had similar educations, similar interests and similar goals. No where in their
conversations do they write that living in the correct home, or having the correct
possessions or belonging to appropriate organizations will make them "more
acceptable" to whites of a similar socio-economic status. People simply
purchased the homes and furnishings they could afford. They formed clubs to
associate with those who shared similar interests and values. In reality, it is
obvious that elite blacks were far more like upper-middle class whites than they
were like lower class people of either race. Black elites refused to accept
categorization by white people based simply on skin color. They could not accept
being placed into a group with people who shared no common attribute other
than a racial heritage ascribed by the majority population. It is in terms of these
issues where we see the difficulty that whites had trying to enforce the strict
requirements of an inviolable color line. The “one drop” rule placed all blacks
firmly into black society, but the complexity of race relations made the rules
confusing and difficult to apply, especially in New Orleans. 197
Aristocrats of Color, 220; African American Business Leaders, 148. For more about African
American social clubs see chapter 1, 24-28.
197 Aristocrats of Color, 220; Gender and Jim Crow, 14-15.
196
155
It was apparent to many residents of the Crescent City that class was a far
more powerful measure than race. Glenda Gilmore argued that in North Carolina,
"[w]hites tried to order the world to prevent African Americans from rising."
Whites in New Orleans found ways to legislate segregation on public
conveyances but they could not undermine the class status of Creoles of color or
the exclusive nature of their organizations. When we examine the context of
social organizations, it becomes clear that elites straddled the color line in terms
of their social life just as much as they did in their professional lives. Many were
well-read, often in multiple languages; some traveled widely at home and abroad;
they enjoyed and sometimes played classical music; they enjoyed the opera and
theater; and many were capable of understanding the complexities of economics
and investment. Clearly people who lived in such a manner would resent being
categorized with unlettered men and women (regardless of race) who struggled
to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. Social clubs found in every
American city were a basis for networking; a means of generating new
relationships and contact with others who might be relied upon as a means of
negotiating one's place in a complicated world.198
A. P. Tureaud, a French Creole who studied Law at Howard University in
the early nineteen twenties, wrote: ”The Creoles of the 7th Ward had a society
almost exclusively of their own…Back in those days [before World War I] there
wasn’t too much mingling between Creole Negroes and what we called the
198
Gender and Jim Crow, 15; Aristocrats of Color, 220; African American Business Leaders, 148.
156
American blacks above Canal Street.” Historian Adam Fairclough uses Tureaud’s
words to show solidarity between the Creoles, who were condemned by virtue of
the one drop rule, with American blacks whose ancestors had been slaves.
Fairclough writes: “An awareness of their peculiar cultural identity did not prevent
most Creoles of color from identifying with the plight of the larger black
population.” Although Fairclough is correct in suggesting that New Orleans
Creoles sympathized with those called American Blacks, he is incorrect in
suggesting that their “identifying” implied unity. Creoles saw themselves as
unique and superior based on their French, Catholic heritage and on the three
tiered society that was in place since colonial times. Those who identified with
the Creoles, even if they were not French Creole by birth, firmly straddled the
color line between blacks and whites. They did not see themselves at all in the
same light as the American blacks who descended from slave society. 199
Some men like Walter Cohen, who were not born into the Creole
population identified with that group. Cohen attended Catholic school, spoke
French, he worshipped at Corpus Christie Catholic Church, the largest Catholic
Church in the city, and he was a member of many social groups that the Creoles
199 A.P. Tureaud, quoted in Race and Democracy, 14-15. Fairclough continues by saying that the
Creoles provided the leadership during Reconstruction and their descendents were among the
opponents of segregation. That statement is factual, however, in the period before World War I,
the starting point of Fairclough’s work, the Creoles of Color had more in sympathy and harmony
with whites in New Orleans. As late as the early twentieth century, Creoles of color were
associated with the gens de couleur libre. They enjoyed a higher social status in New Orleans than
American blacks.
Alexander Pierre Tureaud never used his first name (only his initials A.P.) because it forced
whites to call him by his surname instead of the more familiar status of calling black men by their
first names. In this manner he demanded a level of respect that was not offered to members of the
general population.
157
frequented. He was so much a part of the Creole community that he was
repeatedly elected as an officer for many of the organizations to which he
belonged. It was Walter Cohen, an American black, who was the most powerful
man politically. It was Cohen who secured a patronage position for a member of
the “more privileged” Creole group, A.P. Tureaud, as a clerk in the New Orleans
Customs House when Tureaud was unable to support himself as a lawyer in New
Orleans in the late 1920s. There is a certain irony here. If we look at photographs
of both Walter Cohen and A.P. Tureaud, it is immediately obvious that both men
have very fair complexions and both men could easily have made the choice to
pass for white. Neither chose that option. Instead, each made a conscious
decision to identify with his black heritage, and both endeavored to eradicate
barriers across the color line for a lifetime. Perhaps what is most remarkable is
that each man demanded and received respect from prominent whites. Each
man put his personal stamp on politics.200
Although men like Cohen and Tureaud chose the path of politics to assert
their influence, others addressed their need for power in other professions. Some
men chose a career in medicine as they “straddl[ed] the line between trade and
profession.” In the late nineteenth century, most trades and professions could be
learned through an apprenticeship and medicine was no exception. As with any
Walter Cohen spoke French, was Catholic and identified with the Creole population despite his
mixed ancestry. The fact that his mother was emancipated in 1857 suggests that she was not
Creole. For her to have been considered Creole she would have been a Francophone free woman
of color when she entered into her relationship with a white man. Throughout New Orleans these
men continue to be honored. Both men have public schools named after them, Cohen High
School and Tureaud Elementary School.
200
158
profession, the reason for the allure of a medical career varied from individual to
individual. Some embarked on a career in medicine because they had a desire to
serve or because of their interest in nature; others chose medicine because they
hoped it would lead to financial gain and a stable future. Being a medical
professional did not entitle African American men to respectability nor did it
necessarily provide them opportunities to straddle the color line.201
At the end of the nineteenth century medical schools begin to be
established throughout the South. It was then that physicians began “rethinking
education.” Part of that rethinking included the conclusion that the establishment
of medical schools was a means of creating “a fraternity of physicians.” The
concept of a fraternity implies a socially exclusive organization where
membership is tightly controlled and offered only to those who conform to
specific guidelines which are mutually agreed upon. Those who had or could
obtain the funds enrolled in medical schools. As requirements for admission to
medical school stiffened, and licensing became routine, the scarcity of doctors,
especially those who were well qualified, allowed those with academic
credentials access to an elevated position in the social hierarchy. 202
This elevated status existed without regard to race, but it does not
mean that black doctors were considered the equal of white doctors in the
American South. In the South, race defined social position. As we saw in the
Steven M. Stowe, Doctoring the South: Southern Physicians and Everyday Medicine in the
Mid-Nineteenth Century South. (Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press, 2004), 15.
202 Doctoring the South, 15.
201
159
discussion of politicians in New Orleans, there were class distinctions that carried
over into every aspect of southern life. Class status was far more pronounced
and more important in the South than it was in the North. This is not meant to say
that social classes did not exist in the North; of course they did. However, in the
South there was a much greater consciousness of that class status and how it
defined an individual’s place in society.
Wealthy New Orleans Creole families, who were financially able to
send their sons to the North or to Europe for an education placed the study of
medicine high on the list of desirable professions; however, it was not only the
children of the wealthy who sought a medical career. Individuals from humbler
backgrounds were sometimes able to patch together the necessary funds to
achieve their desired goals. 203
Three black colleges emerged in New Orleans during
Reconstruction; Leland, New Orleans University and Straight University. Initially
each functioned as a secondary training school, but over time as the need grew,
they became institutes of higher education. New Orleans University was
chartered in 1873 and the medical school there opened in 1886. Straight
University, was an interracial school “chartered by the Louisiana State
Legislature in 1869” and was named for Seymour Straight of Hudson, Ohio, who
donated the land for the school. In 1873, Louisiana State University in Baton
Rouge refused to admit students of color. For that reason, the state government
Todd L. Savitt, Race and Medicine in Nineteenth and Early-Twentieth Century America.
(Kent, Ohio, Kent State University Press, 2007), 269-294.
203
160
withdrew funding from that institution and funneled the money to Straight
University. Straight University, which remained integrated throughout
Reconstruction, had a law school and a medical school on its campus. As a
result, “from 1870-1877 Straight …had one of the strongest medical” schools in
Louisiana. 204
Although over two hundred thousand people lived in New Orleans, very
few black doctors practiced in the city. In 1890, there were only 18 black doctors
in the city leaving each one to serve more than three thousand five hundred
black residents. By 1920, the number of black physicians living in the city had not
quite doubled to thirty physicians, but those doctors were serving a marginally
smaller black population. The rise in the number of black physicians meant that
there was greater access to medical care for people who chose doctors
representative of their race. There were also more black physicians because
there was medical training available in the city. During the first decades of the
twentieth century applicants to medical schools were not required to complete a
college degree before enrolling in medical school, although a significant number
did. In the 1930s Carter G. Woodson published a study showing that in 1911:
“44.1 percent of 1,051 in his sample had college degrees; 25.8 percent had some
college training; while 20 percent had no college instruction at all.” Whereas once
a college education had been the mark of a gentleman (with all the connotations
204 Black New Orleans, 125-6. Straight University began with a land grant from Seymour
Straight, a white man who was a produce merchant in New Orleans. Straight began as a normal
school funded by the Freedmen's Bureau. In 1870, the American Missionary Association assumed
financial and administrative control.
161
that word implies), increasingly that preliminary education was gaining
importance for acceptance into skilled professions.205
In addition to the respect an individual garnered from the
completion of years of professional study, there were other reasons why the
medical profession attracted ambitious individuals. Some African American men
truly desired to be of service to their communities; others believed medicine was
one of the few lucrative careers available to blacks. Serving as a physician, an
individual was self- employed. It was not necessary to appeal to a white person
for employment or patronage. One’s professional and financial success could be
determined solely by the individual's skill and his ability to find paying patients. 206
When an African American man climbed the ladder of success and
respectability, he did not climb it alone. The status of the entire family was
elevated by the social and financial success of one family member. When a man
became a physician, he had the potential to move to a higher social class. In
many cases, if he rose to a position of prominence in the community his parents
were elevated along with him, both socially and financially. The benefit did not
stop there, however; future generations were also promised greater opportunities
for continued success. It is important to note that the potential for opportunity was
available, not guaranteed. For members of the black elite, the ability to negotiate
Doctoring the South, p. 15; Carter G. Woodson, The Negro Professional Man and the
Community, with Special Emphasis on the Physician and the Lawyer (1934; reprint, New York:
Negro University Press, 1969), 83-86 quoted in Thomas J. Ward Jr., Black Physicians in the Jim
Crow South (Fayetteville; University of Arkansas Press, 2003), xxiv; Race and Medicine, p. 349;
351.
206 Race and Medicine, 269-271; Doctoring the South, 84-87.
205
162
the color line was not an inherited skill. It was something that had to be learned
and nurtured. Most men who were able to straddle the color line did so because
of ambition and seized opportunity rather than a gift of privilege. Ambitious men
did not always limit their realm of interests. They often looked for other avenues
striving for wealth and success.207
Some who had the intellectual capacity to succeed in the field of medicine
also prospered in other professions. “In the South, before and after the Civil War,
the [stereotypical ] idea of manly success was to master a flourishing plantation,
[which was] the traditional seat of a man’s economic power, political influence
and social esteem.” Any other profession was secondary and that included the
practice of medicine.208
If a man did not inherit a plantation, he could still aspire to ownership of
one. In post-Reconstruction New Orleans, Rivers Frederick served as an
excellent example of the success ambitious African American men could aspire
to achieve. Born into a Creole sharecropping family in 1874, Frederick began his
education in New Orleans and graduated from Straight University in 1894. Next,
he studied for three years at the New Orleans Medical College. Desiring still
further education, Frederick moved to Chicago to study at the prestigious College
of Physicians and Surgeons. His decision was made in part because of the
nature of the program at Physicians and Surgeons, but also because in Chicago
Frederick could obtain the hands-on hospital training experience ( what we refer
207
208
Race and Medicine, 269- 294.
Doctoring the South, 15.
163
to today as internship and residency) denied to members of his race in the
South.209
Although many physicians both black and white were poorly trained
at the end of the nineteenth century, Frederick defied the odds. Not only did he
obtain his medical degree but he also completed advanced “training in medicine,
surgery, obstetrics, gynecology, diseases of the chest, eye and ear, nose and
throat, diseases of children, genito-urinary diseases and neurology.” In 1897,
Frederick the sharecropper’s son was the first African American to graduate from
Chicago’s famed College of Physicians and Surgeons.210
Although Frederick was able to take advantage of superior
educational opportunities available in the North, it should not be assumed there
was no racism in Chicago. In 1897 when Frederick was there, the floodgates of
systemic racism had not yet opened. It would be more than a decade before the
Great Migration would bring waves of black workers north seeking refuge and
employment in the industrial centers of America. In 1897 the sting of racism was
not yet as severe in the North as it was in the South. 211
After completing his medical studies Rivers Frederick returned to
Louisiana and settled in the rural town of Point Coupee. In that rural, isolated
209 Biographical Notes, Rivers Frederick Papers, Amistad Research Center. The College of
Physicians and Surgeons is now The University of Illinois College of Medicine. The College of
Physicians and Surgeons was begun in 1881 and relied solely upon clinical training until 1891
when the study of basic sciences was incorporated into the program.
http://www.uic.edu/depts/mcam/history.shtml accessed March 28, 2008.
210 Biographical Notes, Rivers Frederick Papers, Amistad Research Center.
211 The Great Migration was the mass exodus of millions of black workers from the rural South to
the urban North in search of employment in manufacturing centers between 1910 and 1930.
Biographical Notes, Rivers Frederick Papers, Amistad Research Center.
164
region, his patients included black and white residents. When he was twenty-six
years old, Rivers Frederick chose to marry a poor white woman, a woman of a
social class below that which he would eventually attain through profession and
wealth. He also purchased a two hundred acre plantation. He was accepted as a
medical practitioner in this rural enclave without question until his marriage;
however, that breach of racial etiquette was apparently too much for the majority
white community to bear. The ostracism displayed in Point Coupee was extreme;
Frederick closed his practice and moved to Central America for several years.
When he returned to the United States in 1901, he established a medical practice
in New Orleans. Living in the French Quarter amidst the mixed race Creole
population, his race and the race of his wife seemed immaterial. Several
questions can be asked here. Did Frederick choose to marry a white woman in
order to whiten his family line? Perhaps he did. Did he believe he would be seen
as a white man in the eyes of the community if his wife was also white? He was
white enough to pass for white but did not choose to hide his race. For that
reason alone, his marriage to a white woman as a vehicle to enter white society
seems improbable. Did Frederick believe that a white wife would enhance him
socially? The fact that he married a white woman of the lower class precludes
that possibility. A woman of a lower social class was more of a limitation in the
Creole community than it was an asset. Did his relative youth, and perhaps love,
cause him to disregard the issue of race when he married? Perhaps only he
knew the answer to that question. There is reason enough to ponder such
165
questions with regard to Rivers Frederick because of the complexity of race and
social relations in New Orleans. The issue of race underscored nearly all
relationships in New Orleans in the years that followed the Plessy decision of
1896.212
The ideas of whitening his family line are not too farfetched. When we
examine the United States Federal Census for the year 1920, Frederick and all
members of his family, including his children are listed as being white. Clearly the
census taker either did not feel a need to ask the race of the family and Frederick
did not volunteer that he was in fact black. Frederick’s appearance probably
influenced his prominence in New Orleans and made it easier for him to straddle
the color line. 213
From 1901 until 1907, Frederick served as the chief surgeon at Flint
Medical College where he taught and practiced medicine. Later he practiced at
the Sarah Goodridge Hospital also in New Orleans. In addition to his hospital
duties, he was also employed by the Southern Pacific Railroad as their surgeon
from 1913-1932. Certainly, as a physician for the Southern Pacific Railroad
Rivers Frederick would have had to straddle the color line. Even if we assume
that Frederick was assigned to treat black patients, and there is no indication that
such segregation by the railroad was the case, he would have had to work in
212
Nida Vital, "Dr. Rivers Frederick and the History of Black Medicine in New Orleans" (M.A.
Thesis: University of New Orleans, 1978), 83.
213 U.S. Federal Census, 1920. There is no evidence that Frederick made any attempt to hide his
race, but he also apparently did not feel a need to correct the people who were mistaken. In the
case of Frederick, it could be argued both ways that race did or did not make a difference
depending on the circumstance.
166
conjunction with whites who managed the railroad and bureaucrats who kept
railroad records. Over a period of more than twenty years, Frederick would have
had ample time to develop significant professional relationships with individuals
across the color line through his work at the railroad.214
Frederick continued to practice medicine until just before his death in
1954. He was reputed to have been one of the best surgeons in New Orleans
and throughout his life treated both black and white patients. His skill as a
renowned surgeon allowed him to rise above his humble beginnings. His
expertise meant that patients and other physicians would bend racial protocol if
conditions warranted that necessity. His career spanned the implementation of
Jim Crow in the Deep South and he lived almost long enough to witness the
beginning of its demise. This implies that Jim Crow was a tool; one that could be
used or disregarded at will. It was a tool that was instigated by whites to maintain
power over the people they believed were destined to be slaves. When slavery
was abolished, segregation was reintroduced by virtue of a caste system. The
caste system in the American South served a purpose, but people with power,
black and white, had the ability to bypass that system when it suited the needs of
those who were involved. Men like Frederick straddled the color line because it
was in the best interests of many people for him to do so. It might be argued that
it was paternalism that allowed the line to be crossed, but that would be incorrect.
The line was not a rigid barrier. It could be crossed or ignored by people who had
214
Biographical Notes, Rivers Frederick Papers, Amistad Research Center.
167
the power and prestige to do so. The status of elites, regardless of race in the
community, meant that elites made the rules; they lived above the protocol. They
could dictate to others in the community how to behave in any given
circumstance but they could behave as they chose. 215
In 1920 Rivers Frederick co-founded the Louisiana Industrial Life
Insurance Company and served as one of four African American physicians on
the board of directors. By 1930, it was the “second-largest black-owned
insurance company in Louisiana.” Clearly Frederick was not an “average” man.
He was intelligent, hard working, ambitious and industrious. Frederick epitomized
what it meant to live with one foot in each world. His education and the wide
variety of his business and social contacts placed him firmly amidst the African
American elite. In the segregated South during the early twentieth century
Frederick was likely not welcomed socially into white society. Even though he
was not welcomed socially, his medical expertise and business acumen made
him a force that white New Orleanians could not ignore. Frederick served both
blacks and whites in the medical community. 216
Frederick was one of the earliest and most prominent members of the
NAACP in New Orleans. Prior to and during World War I, the focus of the
Sinegal DeCuir, "Attacking Jim Crow: Black Activism in New Orleans 1925-1941",
(Ph.D. Dissertation, Louisiana State University, 2009),82.
216 "Attacking Jim Crow" 77; Thomas J. Ward, Jr. Black Physicians in the Jim Crow South
(Fayetteville, University of Arkansas Press, 2003), 229; Aristocrats of Color, 48; African
American Business Leaders, 177; Merah Steven Stuart, An Economic Detour: A History of
Insurance in the Lives of American Negroes (N.Y.: Wendell Malliet and Co., 1940), 143-44.
From 1932 -1950, Frederick served as chief of surgery at Flint-Goodridge Hospital at Dillard
University and was the only African American Chief of Surgery who had white physicians serving
under him.
215Sharlene
168
NAACP in New Orleans was on promoting patriotism and providing a good moral
compass for local residents. It was a gathering place for members of the black
elite; in fact, that was one of the chief complaints about the organization by
average people. The initial purpose of the New Orleans chapter did not involve
the dismantling of Jim Crow; rather its purpose was to provide moral and
financial support for the soldiers and their families who were engaged in the war
effort. 217
Although Rivers Frederick was a founding member of the New Orleans
chapter of the NAACP, he personally did not use the organization as a tool to
advance his own racial progress. As a member of the elite, he had what he
needed and although he sincerely desired racial equality, he was not willing to
use his political capital to force change in society. Like many southern whites as
well as some prominent blacks, Frederick believed that full citizenship was a
privilege. He participated in NAACP voter registration drives and taught the skills
necessary for people to gain access to the polls. This was a unifying theme
among many members of the elite. They were uncomfortable with unlettered
people wielding political influence. New Orleans' Rivers Frederick and
Cleveland's George A. Myers believed that they had a responsibility as members
of "the Talented Tenth" to school and guide less privileged members of their
race, but they did not see the common masses as their social equals.218
217
218
"Attacking Jim Crow," 125-126
"Attacking Jim Crow," 125- 130. Ticket to Ride,10.
169
Like many businessmen and members of the elite of both races, Rivers
Frederick was politically conservative. He was a Republican not only in affiliation
but in principle. He was anti-union and worked tirelessly to prevent the
unionization of insurance agents in the late 1930s and early 1940s. As an
insurance company founder and owner, he firmly believed that businesses
should be allowed to regulate their employees as they saw fit. His politics
mirrored those of affluent white businessmen and transcended racial interests.
Politically the common denominator for members of the black elite was class
interest. Men like Rivers Frederick identified across the color line with whites of
similar interests and class status because as businessmen they faced the same
challenges. Where business was concerned, they worked together across racial
lines to achieve their common purposes.219
By the late 1940s Frederick was an old man and was confident in the
support he sustained on both sides of the color line. At that time he joined with
liberal whites and communist sympathizers in support of three black men who
were accused of rape. Although they were unable to secure the release of the
accused, Frederick did not fear championing their cause. At that stage in his life
he was able to publicly contest the legalized lynching of black suspects in a
brutal case. Although we will never know how he might have behaved when he
was younger and a less secure man striving to secure his place in society, it is
clear that at the end of his life he no longer feared the condemnation of society.
219
"Dr. Rivers Frederick," 83.
170
When his financial and social position were firmly entrenched in New Orleans
society, championing race issues was less of a risk than it had been in his youth.
220
Dr. Joseph Hardin, another New Orleans physician and businessman was
politically active and also a contemporary of Rivers Frederick. In addition to his
medical practice, Hardin invested in real estate and began another industrial
insurance business. Hardin too became interested in Republican Party politics
and began working with Walter Cohen as early as 1895, nearly a decade before
graduating from Flint-Goodridge Medical School in New Orleans. Although
Hardin was politically active at the local level, his name does not appear in the
correspondence among those politically prominent at the national level. He did
not correspond with Booker T. Washington with regard to national politics and
political appointments. He was not involved with politicians at the highest levels
in securing political patronage positions for himself or his associates. This is
particularly significant because it is an indication that for Hardin, politics was a
local issue and perhaps partially a social endeavor. For many people the desire
to become politically active meant being associated socially with the right people
and engaging in the right activities, much like belonging to the right fraternity.
Hardin co-founded his ward’s political club and, like many other professional
men, served in leadership positions in a wide variety of community organizations.
220 Race and Democracy, 52-53;120-121. By the 1940s, the spread of Communism was a real fear
among successful businessmen in America. Their economic success depended on capitalism.
Communism was never a serious threat to American businesses, but the spread of that system in
the world would shift economic practices. Men who opposed communism were more than willing
to cooperate to insure its downfall.
171
It appears that for Hardin, political participation meant publicity. It was a means of
social exposure and positive name recognition within the community. Although
Hardin enjoyed politics, his participation may have been to some extent a
necessary obligation that went along with membership in the “Talented Tenth.”
Historian Thomas Ward stated that “Hardin’s first love was politics,” but Hardin
likely tempered that love with practicality. He did not choose it as his primary
career because of the tenuous nature of political life for a black man. He
participated in politics in much the same way other prominent individuals
participated in Masonic Clubs or other social organizations. 221
Recognizing the tug that some ambitious physicians might feel toward
becoming involved in the realm of politics, Oliver Wendell Holmes counseled, “I
warn you against all ambitious aspirations outside your profession. Medicine is
the most difficult of sciences and the most laborious of arts. It will task all your
powers of body and mind if you are faithful to it. Do not dabble in the muddy
sewers of politics…” But for several New Orleans doctors, including Rivers
Frederick, Joseph Hardin and George Lucas that temptation proved too great.
Their desires to right the wrongs in society were noble and they believed their
ascendancy to the talented tenth demanded they serve their race in any way they
221 Black Physicians, 267-8; "Attacking Jim Crow," 83. An extensive search of the Joseph Hardin
papers and the Booker T. Washington Papers shows no personal communication between the two
men, nor are they referenced in each other's papers. Because Hardin worked closely with Cohen
as early as 1895, it is likely that Hardin and Washington would have met as Washington traveled
the country. It is telling that no person communication between the two exists. This would be
further proof that for Hardin, the majority of his political participation was at a local level and not
national in focus during the years of this study. Hardin served as a delegate to the Republican
National Convention from 1924 into the 1950s. Today there is a public school in New Orleans
named after Joseph Hardin in recognition of his importance to the city.
172
were able. Their associations across the color line in the medical field as well as
the larger business community gave them access to powerful whites which
allowed them opportunities that many other black men did not share. It was
incumbent on them to develop viable networks across the color line, to serve in
any way they were able and to serve prudently while maintaining their status as
an elite.222
It is always important to remember that political participation during the
post-Reconstruction era was one measure of status in the community, for whites
as well as blacks. Although some physicians may have been political for social
reasons, the importance of their participation should not be misconstrued. That
any man of color would continue to participate in politics in New Orleans in the
post-Reconstruction era was a sign of sacrifice and bravery. Even though the Ku
Klux Klan and other white supremacy groups were outlawed by federal law in
1871, the racist sentiments and the resultant actions that caused the creation of
those organizations continued to flourish. White people who wished to find ways
to hamper black activism continued their mission despite the laws. Most elite
blacks had a measure of immunity in New Orleans because of their high profile
status and because of the inherent tolerance that existed in that city. Even in
New Orleans, African American elites were not totally exempt from targeted acts
Oliver Wendell Holmes quoted in Eugene Perry Link, The Social Ideas of American Physicians
1776-1976: Studies of the Humanitarian Tradition. (Selinsgrove: Susquehanna University Press,
1992), 39.
222
173
of violence if their activism appeared too extreme to those determined to control
it.223
Behavioral restraint so evident among members of the social elite was one
reason for the lack of conflict between black and white elites. That restraint was
apparent in the manner in which they framed their conversations and their
actions across the color line. Ward suggests that their behavior was a conscious
attempt to create a non-threatening environment in which to accomplish as much
good as possible. “Always the diplomat, Dr. Hardin underscored his point to the
white leaders that blacks did not want to force themselves into [homes in the]
white sections of the city such as [the exclusive] Audubon Park, but that they did
want to move out of districts unpaved and unimproved and enjoy facilities the
same as any other people.” Members of the black elite did not live in highly
exclusive areas such as Audubon Park, the area to which Hardin referred. Most
lived within the French Quarter which had long housed the francophone Creoles.
There were many streets in that neighborhood that showcased spacious homes
with exquisite decor. Members of the black elite were welcomed in the
neighborhoods where Creoles and free people of color had lived for generations.
Conversely, there were many other areas in and around New Orleans that had
extremely poor living conditions and it was in those areas, where raw sewage
Steven Hahn, A Nation Under Our Feet: Black Political Struggles in the Rural South from
Slavery to the Great Migration. (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2003), 286. Hahn
argues that the KKK operated with little resistance against their actions throughout the South,
with the exception of the city of New Orleans. Here is another example of how different the racial
climate was in that city. African Americans were not perfectly safe in New Orleans despite the
prevailing conditions in that city. The race riot that occurred in New Orleans in 1866 was evidence
of what was possible.
223
174
flowed in the streets and sanitation was scarce, that Hardin referred to. Like other
members of the elite, as well as members of the clergy and the medical
community, they fought for improved living conditions which would benefit all
residents of the city, not just the impoverished who were forced into the wretched
neighborhoods.224
It is also important to remember when we are speaking of New Orleans,
that many people who were labeled black there had skin as white as those who
claimed to be white New Orleanians. African Americans with very fair skin were
considered black because of family heritage, but many would easily have melted
into white society in any other city in the nation. This is one reason why
discussions of the color line in New Orleans are so fraught with peril. Particularly
among members of the medical community, some people were considered black
only by family heritage, not because of skin color.
Dr. George Lucas was also a prominent African American physician living
in New Orleans. During the third decade of the twentieth century (years beyond
the scope of this dissertation), Dr. Lucas revived the New Orleans chapter of the
National Association for the Advancement of Colored People which had become
dormant. Lucas was the only other black physician to play a dominant role across
the color line during the period covered by this study. That there were so few
black physicians who were able to interact across the color line provides some
evidence of how rare an occurrence it was. What is interesting about Lucas is
224
Black Physicians in the Age of Jim Crow," 283.
175
that he does not fit into the category of light-skinned black men who straddled the
color line. By every description, George Lucas was a dark-complexioned
American black (meaning he was not of the French-speaking Creole) tradition.225
As previously mentioned, Lucas served as a president of the NAACP
when the organization reorganized in 1924. The fact that the NAACP was revived
and reorganized provides evidence that men of influence in New Orleans began
to respond to the pressures of racism during the inter-war years. Lucas began to
take the organization in a more active direction. His efforts were supported
financially and also received organizational support from wealthy elites such as
Walter Cohen, Rivers Frederick and Joseph Hardin. What is interesting is that
the trend we see in New Orleans during the inter-war years is one that also
begins to emerge in both Cleveland and Charleston. It is the beginning of the era
of the New Negro. The power and prestige of the light skinned elites who were
born into families free before the Civil War began to give way to the darkercomplexioned, self-made men. Of course, this is a generalization. Both Joseph
Hardin and Rivers Frederick were self-made men. They did not come from old
elite families, but they did have light skin and university educations which allowed
them to more easily penetrate New Orleans' prestigious upper class. 226
"Attacking Jim Crow," 126. Dr. Lucas was a close personal friend and associate of Walter
Cohen. Cohen founded the People's Life Insurance Company (as was mentioned in the previous
section). Lucas served as the Medical Director and a member of the board of directors for People's
Life. "Attacking Jim Crow," 68.
226 "Attacking Jim Crow," 126. Black Physicians in the Jim Crow South, p. 283. The New Orleans
branch of the NAACP was likely all black. Certainly, it was organized by the important black men
of the city. Rivers Frederick was heavily involved in the NAACP in the years after the scope of this
dissertation. He did not hold office, nor did he participate publicly; instead he donated funds and
225
176
The patterns of power that appeared so well defined among politicians
and physicians were far less apparent among members of the clergy, particularly
in New Orleans. There two separate societies, the English Protestant and the
French Catholic, developed side by side. Among the Protestant, the Baptist and
African Methodist Episcopal churches enjoyed the largest success. Although
many Protestants lived in New Orleans, historian Louis Harlan estimates that in
the years following the Civil War, nearly half of all the residents of the city were
Catholic. Joy Jackson suggests that by 1890, more than two-thirds of all people
who attended church in New Orleans attended the Catholic Church. Catholic
religious leaders as well as leaders of other faiths, sought to exert their sizable
influence in the African American community. Some members of the clergy were
imbued with a single-minded spirit of benevolence and religious piety while
others were acutely aware that their position as church leaders enabled them to
wield substantial secular influence over their parishioners. Regardless of their
intentions or their race, these men of God clearly occupied a unique position
within the community at large. Some were willing and eager to straddle the color
line and others were willing to maintain the sanctity of that line. 227
worked behind the scenes in an organizational sense. It could be speculated that he did not want
to jeopardize his ability to straddle the color line, or perhaps his medical affairs were so
demanding that he did not want to be obligated on a day to day basis.
227 Louis R. Harlan, “New Orleans’ Schools During Reconstruction,” in Donald G. Neiman, ed.,
African Americans and the Emergence of Segregation, 1865-1900. (N.Y.: Garland Publishing,
1994.), 166. In 1860, there were nearly 25,000 blacks living in New Orleans and almost 11,000 of
those were free people of color. The vast majority of the Free People of Color were Creoles and
therefore Catholic. Douglas Slawson, “Segregated Catholicism: The Origins of St. Katherine’s
Parish, New Orleans,” Vintage Heritage Journal, Volume 17, Issue 3, October 1996, 144. Joy J.
Jackson, New Orleans in the Gilded Age: Politics and Urban Progress 1880-1896. (Baton Rouge,
Louisiana State University Press, 1969), 25. The churches mentioned above had the largest
177
In New Orleans, because the majority of elite blacks were of Creole
descent, the Roman Catholic Church had the most influence on both the religious
and secular aspects of their society. It was within the Catholic Church that the
greatest interaction across the color line occurred. The racial attitudes of specific
white Catholic priests did not necessarily reflect the attitudes of Americans in
general or New Orleans in particular, because many of the priests brought the
ideology of their foreign homelands into New Orleans society. Catholic priests
from all over the world were sent by regional bishops to minister in New Orleans;
many were not native residents of the city. The attitudes of some priests mirrored
those of white American men; others brought attitudes that were sometimes at
odds with the norms of southern society. Some priests served their parishes
without regard to racial differences while others believed it imperative to maintain
strict segregation of the races. The simplest form of racism was white against
black; however, social class and wealth also factored into the equation. It is the
consideration of these variables that adds to the complexity of the study of
Catholics in New Orleans.228
memberships in New Orleans; however, Congregational, Episcopal, Presbyterian and Lutheran
churches also maintained a presence in the city. See: Dorothy Rose Eagleson, “Some Aspects of
the Social Life of the New Orleans Negro in the 1880s.” (M.A. Thesis, Tulane University, 1961)
Baptist churches were entirely independent. There was no overarching organizational structure.
They did not belong to a parent organization that standardized their doctrine, structure or clerical
hierarchy. Methodist churches were organized through the Methodist Episcopal Church, the
African Methodist Episcopal Church or the Colored Methodist Episcopal Church. These facilitated
a general unity among congregations that belonged to one of the organizations.
228 New Orleans Tribune, May 10, 20, 29, 1875 cited in Stephen J. Ochs, A Black Patriot and a
White Priest: Andre Cailloux and Claude Paschal Maistre in Civil War New Orleans.(Baton
Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2000), p. 262.
178
In the North, Catholic parishes lacked racial diversity during the latter
decades of the nineteenth century. In the North the primary forms of diversity
were ethnicity and class. As a result, Catholic bishops and archbishops in
northern cities were not especially concerned with either the collective temporal
or spiritual plights of African Americans as a group because proportionately the
black Catholic population was very small. In contrast, in some southern cities
Catholic priests were forced to take the situation more seriously. Although
nationally the number of African American Catholics in America was relatively
small, the city of New Orleans boasted a large black Catholic population. There
are a number of reasons why New Orleans had a large Catholic population. The
major reason for the large Catholic influence in the city of New Orleans was the
initial French and Spanish colonization of the region. Both nations were
predominantly Catholic and settlers brought their religious traditions with them to
the new world.229
Another reason for the disproportionately large number of number of black
Catholics in New Orleans was the commonly condoned plac̜age system that had
long endured in the region. Many white men of Catholic Creole ancestry fathered
children with their white wives in traditional marriages. They also established
relationships with quadroon or octoroon mistresses (or common-law wives) in
long-term extra-marital arrangements. The children of such relationships
In 1897, there were approximately 8,000 black Catholics in the city of New Orleans. That was
the largest number in any American city. New Orleans Morning Star, October 23, 1897.
The importance of race in the Catholic Church in a northern city will be presented in the chapter
on Cleveland, Ohio.
229
179
intermarried and formed the basis of a large, sometimes wealthy, black Creole
population that co-existed in a society parallel to the larger white community.
Because the black Creole society was parallel, it mirrored white society and over
time, these free people of color created a self-sustaining community that was
“probably unequaled in any other part of the South.” As a result, “[t]he whole
behavior of the Negro toward the whites [in the churches]…was singularly free of
that deference and circumspection that might have been expected in a slave
community.” That lack of deference by elite, free, black Creoles towards whites
existed in all aspects of their lives; in the public sphere as well as the private. The
nature of these relationships was integral in creating an environment that allowed
members of the black elite the confidence to straddle the color line in New
Orleans. 230
As early as 1866, Roman Catholic Archbishop Martin Spaulding petitioned
church leaders in Rome to seriously consider their black brethren in America. At
the Second Plenary Council, held in Baltimore, Maryland, during that year,
John Blassingame clearly illustrates the nature of the placage system in his seminal work Black
New Orleans. Blassingame defines this union as a type of common law marriage, “an institutional
arrangement for miscegenation” between white men and black women. Such occurrences were
not causal encounters. Many were long-term relationships where white men courted and
contracted with black women. In return, the woman could expect financial support for herself and
any offspring that might result from the relationship. Relationships formed under the placage
system existed during slavery and many relationships
continued after emancipation. (John W. Blassingame, Black New Orleans 1860-1880. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, n.d.), 17-19. Misch states that during the post-Civil War period, sixty
to seventy percent of African American Catholics were located in just two Archdioceses- Baltimore
and New Orleans. Edward J. Misch, “The Catholic Church and the Negro 1865-1884." Integrated
Education Associates, School of Education, Northwest University, 1973 (November -December
1974), 36-40. In 1897, the Morning Star, ( a newspaper published by the Catholic Church in New
Orleans, 1868-1930) reported that there were 8,000 African American Catholics in New Orleans.
Harlan, “New Orleans Schools,” p. 166 quoted from Joseph G. Tregle, “Early New Orleans Society:
A Reappraisal “ in Journal of Southern History, (February 1952), 33-34.
230
180
Spaulding proposed that the Church appoint black administrators who were
ordained priests to act as liaisons between black parishioners and members of
the white priesthood. As one might expect, this petition evoked strong reactions
on both sides of the Atlantic. After much debate, the use of black administrators
was rejected by the Plenary Council because church leaders in Rome feared
conflict over clerical jurisdiction. Although the Catholic Church in America was
more than willing to accept black parishioners, some of the local churches were
not yet liberal enough to accept African American priests who could potentially
have religious authority over white church members. White southerners believed
it would be unseemly for a black priest to engage in close personal relationships
with white parishioners and, according to church practices, there was no way to
prevent black clergymen from carrying out their clerical duties whenever and
wherever circumstances dictated. At that time, it was common practice within the
American Catholic Church for local bishops to devise appropriate solutions to the
problems within their jurisdictions; however, clerical authorities in Rome were
unwilling to risk alienation of white parishioners in America. In this highly stratified
multicultural environment, foreign-born priests newly assigned to the region
needed a roadmap to avoid society’s cultural pitfalls. 231
231Edward
J. Misch, “The Catholic Church and the Negro, 1865-1884.” ( Integrateducation,
Evanston, Ill.: Integrated Education Associates, School of Education, Northwestern University,
1973. November-December 1974), 37. When a black priest was hearing confession and if the
parishioner confessing was white, this was one example of the type of relationships that
southerners feared. Also, black priests who might be called upon to counsel white parishioners
was another area of concern. Black priests as priests in a parish would have authority over white
women who were nuns in the parish. This was another example of impropriety that might take
place if ordained black men were in local parishes.
181
The official policy within the Catholic Church was for parishioners to attend
mass in the parish where their residence was located. The chancellor of the
Archdiocese of Louisiana made this crystal clear when he reaffirmed the official
position of the Church stating: “Distinct and separate churches are not advisable;
experience has taught that the colored people prefer to come to mass and to the
sacraments with their white brethren as its done now in all the churches where
the French language is spoken.”232
This official statement of the Church mirrored what all native New
Orleanians had long understood. Although wealthy Creoles of color were not at
the pinnacle of society in New Orleans, they certainly enjoyed the privilege and
prestige of being just barely below (and perhaps just barely off to one side) in the
social hierarchy of the city. They had the education, money, culture and social
skills to travel widely. They ate the best foods; wore fine clothing; attended the
symphony and the opera; and they attended church with like minded white
Francophone Creoles who were their neighbors and sometimes their close
relatives. It was not difficult for black New Orleanians to straddle the color line in
church and most white people who attended their neighborhood churches had
always worshipped under such conditions. Sharing a facility was and had always
been socially acceptable. Wealthy blacks could, and did, purchase pews in their
L.A. Chasse, chancellor of the Archdiocese of Louisiana to the Secretary of the Commission for
Catholic Missions among the colored people and the Indians, June 19,1888) quoted in Dolores
Egger Labbe, Jim Crow Comes to Church: The Establishment of Segregated Catholic Parishes in
South Louisiana, (New York; Arno Press, 1971, second edition, 1978), 19. Neighborhoods were not
segregated in New Orleans in the Reconstruction and post-Reconstruction eras. Particularly in
the French Quarter, both American blacks and Francophone Creoles lived side by side on many
streets.
232
182
home parish. They contributed liberally to the financial resources of the parish
and they expected to be treated in a manner that reflected their status.233
Within the confines of most Catholic churches there was virtually no overt
racism until well into the twentieth century. At the celebration of mass, blacks and
whites worshipped side by side where black aristocrats were afforded the respect
their elite status had earned. For some this token recognition may have been
reason enough for them to maintain their loyalty to a local parish. Influential black
Catholics, like Aristide Mary, owned family pews in their local parishes and
contributed large sums of money to the financial well-being of the church.
Members of the clergy at the parish level were wise enough to realize that if men
such as Mary were removed from the rolls of the integrated parishes, a
significant source of wealth would also be removed from their churches. Clearly
the emerging idea of racial segregation within individual parishes during the
Gilded Age posed a financial as well as a racial dilemma for the Catholic priests
of New Orleans. 234
As overt acts of racism slowly emerged within the Catholic Church in New
Orleans, people white and black jockeyed for social position within the church
and attempted to rebuild a society devastated by secession, war, and
reconstruction. The social and cultural hierarchy in local parishes, once
determined by wealth, ownership of land and of slaves, no longer existed. Those
Black New Orleans, 16.
Aristide Mary, an influential member of the black Creole society “inherited an entire city block
on Canal Street from his white father.” He lived frugally amassed an enormous fortune; larger
than many whites in the city. Such wealth equaled power in post-Reconstruction New Orleans.
Black New Orleans, 11, 16.
233
234
183
who once graced the pinnacles of black Creole society had to find new ways to
claim their role as leaders of the newly evolving society. White southerners
believed the only logical solution was to differentiate people by race. As a result,
black Creoles who had once enjoyed their elite status as free people of color in a
three caste system began to be forced into uneasy alliances with members of the
lower classes who had once been their property. Others maintained a selfimposed segregation based on class because they were unwilling to be forced
into artificial race groupings.235
Many wealthy, influential “black Creole activists, [formerly called Free
People of Color] such as C.C. Antoine, Rudolphe Desdunes, Arthur Esteves,
Paul Trevigne, Thomy Lafon, Louis Martinet, Aristide Mary, [and] Homer
Plessy…refused to go quietly into that evil night of Jim Crow.” Not only did they
refuse to accept a subordinate place in the general society, they also refused to
accept a segregated status in their local parishes. As the relative racial freedom
of the Reconstruction Era in the South was replaced by the ever tightening grip of
Jim Crow, such men made their demands known as they refused to be relegated
to second class status within their churches. The success of their protests affirms
the notion that elite African Americans were able to wield substantial power in the
community at large and most continued to straddle the color line throughout their
lifetimes. It is possible that the influence these men exerted in the church was not
solely based on their status in the community or as a result of their family
For a discussion on race relations in post-Civil War New Orleans see:, Black New Orleans, 173210.
235
184
legacies. Instead, they may have been able to influence the religious hierarchy
because of the significant monetary donations they made to the Catholic Church
and its programs. 236
Thomy Lafon, a well-educated, and devout Catholic reputedly had a net
worth of nearly a half-million dollars at his death in 1893. Born in poverty during
the antebellum era, Lafon became a wealthy man in his later years. Lafon never
married and lived frugally. He ran a dry goods store but is also have reputed to
have loaned money to whites and blacks receiving substantial interest payments
for his efforts. During his lifetime and upon his death, Lafon donated generously
to many worthy charities and individuals regardless of race or religion. He and
other wealthy Catholic members of the gens de couleur libre owned church pews
in New Orleans' Catholic churches. The hierarchy of the Catholic Church in New
Orleans was likely unwilling to anger elite African American congregation
members due to its fears of financial reprisals. Influential lay leaders of the
congregations may also have been willing to sidestep some of their own negative
racial feelings in order to assure the financial security of their church. 237
Stephen J. Ochs, Desegregating the Altar: The Josephites and the Struggle for Black Priests
1871-1960, (Baton Rouge, Louisiana State university Press, 1990) , 264.
237 Thomy Lafon was born to African American parents in 1810. Having fair skin and white hair,
Lafon could easily have passed for white and blended into the larger society, but he chose to live
his life as part of the black Creole community. Lafon was educated in Paris and became equally
fluent in English, French and Spanish. After his return to America, he perfected his
entrepreneurial skills which enabled him to acquire numerous properties in and around New
Orleans. His business acumen, generosity and social graces enabled him to easily straddle the
color line in New Orleans. John Blassingame states that half of the pews at St. Augustine's
Catholic Church in New Orleans were owned by wealthy blacks. Harriett T. Kane, Queen New
Orleans: City by the River. ( N.P., Wm. Morrow & Company; 1949), 197. Rayford W. Logan and
Michael R. Winston, editors. Dictionary of American Negro Biography. (New York: W.W.
Norton & Company, 1982), 379-380. Blassingame, Black New Orleans, 16. David Rankin,
236
185
In 1874, after observing a mass in an unnamed New Orleans Catholic
Church, a Methodist minister, the Reverend Hartzell, commented: “In her most
aristocratic churches in this city, lips of every shade, by hundreds press with
devout kisses the same crucifixes, and fingers of as great variety in color, are
dipped in the ‘holy water’ to imprint the cross on as varied brows. In renting of
pews colored families have a chance, and we have seen them sitting as others in
every part of the house.” We can assume based on the date of this quotation
that, at least in the Catholic Churches, segregation had not yet begun to clamp
down on black parishioners. Ochs argues that it was the ritualized aspects of the
Catholic Church that kept parishes in New Orleans from succumbing to the
segregation that was becoming apparent in their Protestant counterparts. 238
In Catholic Churches the ritual and the ceremony were the most significant
reason for attendance, by far more important than the sermons offered by the
priests. “Catholics respected the office of Priest and therefore did not question
his authority;” therefore “the personal beliefs of the priests and their racism [or
lack thereof] may have been less of a factor [for parishioners] than such attitudes
were in the Protestant denominations.” If the religious leader of the parish did not
make race an issue for his congregation, obedient Catholics might have been
willing to ignore race relations within their parish. As long as their perceived
rights as white people were not violated, many Catholics would have accepted
“Origins of Black Leadership in New Orleans During Reconstruction,” Journal of Southern
History," Vol. 40, Number 3, August 1974), 432.
238 Desegregating the Altar ,247; Black New Orleans,200. Reverend Hartzell was assigned to
New Orleans in 1870. He lived and worked there for a number of years. In 1877, he founded and
edited the Southwestern Christian Advocate, a publication of the Methodist Episcopal Church.
186
the presence of African Americans in the congregations because African
Americans had always been present. 239
In Saint Louis Cathedral, arguably the most famous Catholic Church in
New Orleans, there was virtually no distinction made with regard to color during
Reconstruction when Father Pierre LaPorte presided over the congregation.
LaPorte was removed from his position in 1875 reportedly for his “hot-headed
language,” but Stephen Ochs demonstrates that it was not LaPorte’s temper that
caused his dismissal; instead it was LaPorte’s “devot[ion] to the colored
population” that was responsible for his dismissal. White people were concerned
that the priest was too willing to push for equality within the parish. Although
white people were willing to accommodate non-elite blacks in the parish, many
were unwilling to accept complete equality of the races. LaPorte was not the only
white priest who served as an advocate for his black parishioners. Father Claude
Paschal Maistre, also serving in New Orleans, “espoused a racially inclusive
vision of Catholicism [for which he] incurred ecclesiastical censure.” Despite the
personal rebuke he was forced to bear, Maistre’s actions had their desired effect
“spurr[ing] church authorities to greater efforts on behalf of black Catholics.”
Recognizing the efforts these white priests had made on their behalf, African
American parishioners staged a boycott making their wishes known to church
authorities and “the cathedral quietly returned to its traditional nondiscriminatory
policies.” This is a clear case of white priests straddling the color line to insure
239New
Orleans Louisianian, April 25, 1874 quoted in Black New Orleans, 200.
187
religious equality for members of their flocks. These priests championed an ideal
racial environment in an era where such behavior was unusual. They strove to
create an egalitarian environment for the benefit of all.240
This seemingly egalitarian behavior apparent during mass in New
Orleans’ Catholic Churches should not suggest that there was no racism in New
Orleans; to the contrary, racism was ever present in the Crescent City. What was
different about racism in New Orleans was the criteria that created the racial
hierarchy. To the modern eye, those viewing the wealthy, black, Frenchspeaking, Creoles who had been free prior to the Civil War and who were at the
pinnacle of black Creole-American society, there would be no discernable class
difference between many of these gens de couleur and their white counterparts.
Except for possessing a few drops of African blood, they would have been
welcomed into the highest levels of white American society. Both groups
stemmed from common ancestors; in fact, many were half-brothers and sisters
and aware of their familial ties. The most elite of both races had virtually the
same excellent education in the finest schools abroad; spoke multiple languages
fluently; were astute businessmen, skilled tradesmen or dilettantes; contributed
generously to the social welfare of the community all the while living parallel lives
in the same city. It was not uncommon for the elites of both races to have
common business dealings. Some black elites had interracial business dealings
with those who were their class inferiors but they would certainly shun social
240
Black New Orleans, 201.
188
engagements with those of either race who were not of their social class. An elite
man of either race would never place himself or his spouse in an awkward social
situation that included those who might cause offense or with those he
considered socially inferior. If these were the rules that governed their social
lives, it should not surprise us that similar rules governed their religious lives. In
church the races existed side by side as well. They worshipped the same God in
the same manner and they enjoyed the same privileges and respect that their
elevated social class demanded. They straddled the color line in church in the
same manner they did in their public and professional lives.241
It was not until 1888 when Archbishop Francis Janssens arrived in New
Orleans that the controversy over interracial parishes became a public focus in
the city. Born in Holland, Janssens did not view the American racial controversy
through native eyes. During his tenure as archbishop in New Orleans he became
increasingly frustrated by the growing levels of racism and violence in the city as
well as in the remainder of the state. Janssens did not shirk from public action,
nor did he hide his sentiments when he soundly criticized the Louisiana State
Legislature in 1892 for considering anti-miscegenation legislation. Janssens
firmly believed that any attempts to institute such laws should be considered “an
infringement upon human and religious liberty as well as the laws of the Catholic
Church.” At a meeting of Catholic bishops during the same period he queried the
Blassingame, passim 173-210. Black New Orleans remains the seminal work on the history of
African Americans in the city of New Orleans. Blassingame provides an expansive study of the
social life of the city from 1860-1880.
241
189
others present regarding the advisability of publishing the banns in the case of a
“mixed” marriage. 242
There is no way to ascertain Janssens’ exact sentiments regarding this
complicated issue because he did not document them within the privacy of his
journal; however, it is possible to suggest, based on his religious convictions and
his international experience that Janssens would probably have been more
uncomfortable with the idea of an interfaith marriage than he was by the thought
of an interracial one. His greatest fear seemed to be that parishioners of color
would be “unable to reach full spiritual development because of the [increasing]
racial prejudice and antagonism peculiar to the South.” Certainly Janssens’ ideas
regarding race did not mirror those of other whites in his local religious
community. Some may have believed his reasoning was flawed because he was
not an American and not familiar with the customs in the region to which he was
assigned. What makes Janssens’ actions so relevant is that he brought yet
another layer of complexity to a region with an already highly complex system of
race relations. Based on Janssens’ personal diary and public statements he
made we might correctly assume that he saw all Catholics as a common group
without regard to race. He believed most Catholics sought strength from their
faith and their religious beliefs. When looking at his parish as a whole, he sought
out individuals to discern what they could contribute spiritually or financially to the
James B. Bennett. Religion and the Rise of Jim Crow in New Orleans (Princeton, N.J.;
Princeton University Press, 2005), 165-166.
242
190
religious community. At the same time, Janssens strove to meet the spiritual
needs of his parishioners without interjecting racial barriers. 243
Edward Misch argues that some American Catholic bishops viewed this
growing racial antagonism within the Church as a natural reaction by whites to
the uncultured behaviors of the former slaves who appeared to reject the
formalized manners and morality espoused by cultured whites. White people had
not felt this same disdain for blacks when the uncultured were slaves; they
expected cultural inferiority of people who were their property. Their opinions
changed when the lowest class of southern society gained their freedom. After
emancipation, slaves were declared fellow citizens by the United States
Constitution. As citizens, poor African Americans were subjected to an increase
in racism, which served to reinforce the new social and economic hierarchy that
had come to characterize New Orleans. Elites of either race felt disdain for the
poor and uneducated of both races. They had little in common with those who
had been slaves. These same elites (black and white) had little desire to
associate socially with those whom they designated common white people.
Although many scholars correctly assign episodes of social conflict to issues
based on skin color, they would be equally correct if they assigned class standing
as a basis for conflict in the post-Reconstruction Catholic Church. 244
Archbishop Francis Janssens’ Journal, August 31, 1892 and May 19, 1895. (Archdiocese of
New Orleans Archive, New Orleans, Louisiana)
244 “The Catholic Church and the Negro, 1865-1884,” 39. According to Misch, a Bishop William
Gross of Savannah discussed the problem saying “…only one thing will do them any good, and
that is to elevate [blacks] morally; make them honest men, chaste women, obedient, law abiding
citizens…” (quoted from Memorial Volume: A History of the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore,
243
191
Class stratification was extremely significant in New Orleans where most
people were poor and uncultured by societal standards. In such an environment
class should have been the simplest delineation for stratification in society. For
members of the elite of both races, it would have been far easier to exclude
unwanted contact by class and to make exceptions for a select few people of
color than it was to accept overall equality. However, because millions of slaves
were recently freed, race became the newly accepted category for separation.
With such a complicated system of race and class in place, black elites
climbing the social ladder were required to attain the levels of wealth, culture,
education, and decorum already evident in black elite society if they wished to be
counted among those numbers. Members of the clergy who lived outside the
region would not be aware of the unique culture that existed in New Orleans and
would find it difficult to create and sustain policies that meshed with the social
systems in place.
The lack of understanding of racial issues by the hierarchy of the Catholic
Church in Rome, and in the northern United States, reflected the divisiveness
evident in the larger society. Father Thomas Farrell of New York criticized his
clerical colleagues who advocated segregation and called those bishops “‘old
fogies’ and [he] appealed for a lay organization to counteract the conservatism of
November 9- December 7, 1884 (Baltimore, 1885), 72) in Misch, 40. Clearly, Bishop Gross sided
with white southerners in making this claim. Had he taken a more objective point of view, he
would have taken into account the “moral and honest” white men who forcefully created the
mulatto members of the church by encroaching on the chastity of black women; who in many
cases violated the sanctity of their own marriage vows, yet remained upstanding members in the
eyes of the churches and the overall community. This double standard was not questioned openly
at the time, nor was it acknowledged as the basis for southern racial conflict.
192
the bishops.” Other priests justified the exclusion of blacks echoing the general
belief that the only way non-elite, black, Catholics would gain full acceptance in
the Church was for them to become educated, productive, and to live lives that
mirrored respectable members of the white community. Under such
circumstances, exclusionary tactics could serve as motivation to encourage
people to raise their standards of living to become part of the larger, more
prosperous community. 245
Archbishop Francis Janssens was acutely aware of this dilemma and took
steps to provide a measure of equality for African American parishioners within
his jurisdiction. During September 1892, Janssens recorded in his journal, “Two
colored boys of seventeen and fifteen years…of good and pious parents and
showing signs of vocation have gone to the Epiphany College, Baltimore to study
for the priesthood. They are well advanced in their studies and have learned
some Latin.”246
Janssens “regarded Negroes as fully developed human beings capable of
the achievements of other men. He believed that…young black men were
perfectly capable of becoming priests.” Perhaps because he was born in a
foreign country, Janssens was able to see priestly potential in his parishioners
without being hampered by the Americanized lens of color.247
New York Herald, (June 7, 1869) “The Catholic Church and the Negro, 1865-1884,” 39.
Journal of Archbishop Janssens, 90-91.
247 Jim Crow Comes to Church, 30.
245
246
193
Clearly after living in New Orleans for a number of years, Janssens was
not ignorant of the controversy regarding race in America. He maintained that his
desire was for an integrated priesthood and he continually encouraged qualified
young men of both races to pursue the priesthood as a vocation. Perhaps it was
because Janssens was not American, and had not been trained to see race as a
limiting factor, that he was able to look beyond skin color and to recognize the
common humanity of the flock he led. Janssens believed that service by African
American priests and nuns in New Orleans would enhance the religious
experience for black parishioners and he worked diligently to bring qualified men
and women into the religious fold. He took steps to provide educational
opportunities for promising priesthood candidates of both races, but he was
unwilling to use his influence to fight for legal racial equality through legislative
means for parishioners in his charge. His status as a member of the clergy,
especially one who was not native born and not a citizen, made him unwilling to
confront the American political system. He was unwilling to publicly challenge
elected members of the Louisiana legislature. He did, however, continually seek
ways to spiritually uplift members of his parish regardless of race.248
Some residents of New Orleans saw Janssens' policies as ones of
inclusion while others criticized Janssens believing him to be an advocate of
segregated churches. If he succeeded in preparing young black men to serve in
248 Edward Misch cites Rodolphe Desdunes, one member of the black elite, who criticized
Janssens for not becoming politically involved when the Louisiana Legislature banned interracial
marriages. Misch uses this criticism as evidence that whites had convinced Janssens that there
could be no successful integration in local parishes. “The Catholic Church and the Negro, 18651884.” 36-40.
194
the priesthood, according to Southern traditions, they would only be accepted in
segregated parishes where they would have no personal contact with white
parishioners. If Janssens recognized that as a logistic reality, critics argued that
he was promoting segregation by preparing black men for their role in a
segregated priesthood. A similar argument was made regarding the Sisters of the
Holy Family, women who were members of New Orleans’ elite African American
religious community. Women in this religious order believed that Archbishop
Janssens was sent by God and that his mission was to mitigate the growing
racism in New Orleans’ Catholic community. 249
Although there is no definitive evidence regarding Janssens true motives,
his private writings strongly suggest that he was not a racist. His concern for
African Americans was sincere and his actions seemed consistent with what he
preached. Janssens’ treatment of black parishioners mirrored his treatment of
whites; he conducted audiences with African American priests and African
American philanthropists in the same manner that he dealt with their white
counterparts. With regard to the establishment of facilities that catered to African
Americans, history may certainly justify Janssen’s behavior arguing that he was a
realist. During the last years of the nineteenth century racial strife was becoming
increasingly rampant throughout the South and was lurking in the shadows of the
“The Catholic Church and the Negro," p. 38.; Sister Mary Bernard Deggs, No Cross, No
Crown: Black Nuns in Nineteenth Century New Orleans. Virginia Meecham and Charles E.
Nolan, eds. Paperback edition, 2002. (Bloomington, Indiana; University of Indiana Press, 2001),
91.Although Sisters of the Holy Family were a religious order, they had no voice and no power in a
community that saw all women, especially woman of color, as second class citizens. The Sisters of
the Holy Family took orders from the priests and had no power of their own in the community.
249
195
North. With the growing increase in Jim Crow legislation in the South, it would be
only a matter of time until the Catholic Church also fell victim to the laws of the
land. Janssens hoped to establish an equitable racial policy in his See before the
Louisiana government could enact legislation that would be contrary to his ability
to minister to the needs of all Catholics within the Church. Janssens hoped to
make his See a safe and welcoming haven for black Catholics where they could
serve and be served. It was not paternalism that drove Janssens’ actions. He
truly sought to minister to all members of his flock according to his abilities and
their needs.250
As part of his mission in New Orleans, Archbishop Janssens conceived
and erected new facilities to serve the needs of the city. Janssens worked closely
with the wealthy African American Creole philanthropist Thomy Lafon as Lafon
sought to distribute his fortune to serve the city and people he loved. In 1893,
Lafon purchased property on St. Peter’s Street in the French Quarter. There he
planned to establish The Lafon Asylum for Colored Boys. By that year it must
have been evident to Lafon as well as Janssens that there was little chance the
progress of Jim Crow could be halted and with that inevitability in mind, Lafon
decided to designate his project as one that would serve people of color. In the
privacy of his journal, Archbishop Janssens described Lafon as: “a gentleman of
Journal Archbishop Francis Janssens. The term “See” refers to a center of authority within the
Catholic Church The above discussion of a See refers to the region under the jurisdiction of
Archbishop Janssens. The perspective of Janssens behavior is evidenced by language present in
the private pages of his journal. Never does he reflect negatively on race as part of his perspectives
on his parishioners. He does not describe people by race or social class. There is no indication that
Janssens was influenced in his behavior toward any of the people he encountered by their racial
heritage.
250
196
light color” and records that it was Lafon’s plan to “Put the property in good
condition at his [Lafon’s] own expense.” Working closely with Janssens, Lafon
funded a number of other facilities that benefited his church and his race;
however, as was mentioned above, Lafon did not limit his philanthropy to the
African American population. He was a New Orleans Creole, but he straddled the
color line. He used his wealth to serve all in need and he worked closely with and
was respected by people on both sides of the color line. 251
Reflecting on his relationship with Lafon, Janssens continued: “He has
been very kind to our colored institutions. The building without improvements
cost $3700.- the improvements about $2000. more.” Janssens recorded this
event in a straightforward manner neither approving nor congratulating Lafon on
his benevolence. What is most remarkable about this entry is that even though
he mentions that “Lafon was a gentleman of light color,” he used the term
“gentleman” meaning a man of the upper class. In no way does Janssens equate
Lafon with the underprivileged population that both ought to serve. Certainly
Lafon was a Creole of color, but Janssens does not say Lafon is serving “his
race” nor does he suggest any comparable connections. Janssens simply refers
to the designated property as one of “our [Catholic] colored institutions.” Although
by 1893 outsiders to the diocese may have begun to equate Catholic Creoles of
color with the African American population, it is quite clear from the entry in
The property was purchased in the French Quarter. In this neighborhood, there would be little
criticism by whites regarding the use of the property. In general, white people were most
concerned with the mixing of races within the English speaking neighborhoods. They considered
the French speaking Creoles a world apart. Janssens Journal, April 2, 1893, 105.
251
197
Janssens’ journal that he cast his lot with those New Orleanians who were well
aware of the stark differences that existed between Creoles of color and the
freedmen. In a journal where outsiders could not pry, where Janssens could
record his thoughts without fear of losing a wealthy donor, the archbishop could
have characterized Lafon in any manner he choose. Nevertheless, Janssens
clearly saw Lafon, and probably others of his class, in an entirely different light
from those who shared his designated race but not his refinement. 252
Although there were racially designated facilities such as the orphanage
and homes for the elderly, no racially designated buildings of worship for
Catholics existed in New Orleans before 1895; however, after that time things
began to change. Janssens was well-aware of the growing resentment some
white Catholics exhibited with regard to racial equality within the Church. To
counteract those influences Janssens sought individuals who could aid him in
providing a spiritual and welcoming religious environment for members of his
flock that did not fit the into the image of the elite Catholic population. The
wealthy white, devoutly Catholic, Philadelphia heiress, Katherine Drexel had long
been a philanthropist providing funds for the benefit of both Catholics and Native
Americans. Based on their mutual friendship and desire to support the mission of
the Church, Francis Janssens convinced Drexel to provide funds for needy black
Catholics in New Orleans. “Mother Drexel”, as the devout woman came to be
Janssens' Journal , April 2, 1893,105. Members of the Creole elite knew that outsiders saw
them as blacks, but those natives of New Orleans understood and acknowledged the differences.
This unique part of the population had a very specific status and it was very much apart of the
regional culture.
252
198
called, made her first donation to Janssens’ causes in 1891. By 1895, the
partnership that was forged between Drexel and Janssens enabled Janssens to
open a new church, St. Katherine’s of Sienna Catholic Church.253
Not all of the people in New Orleans viewed the creation of St. Katherine’s
with favor. Janssens fell under criticism by members of both races. Some blacks
believed it was his plan to create segregated parishes restricting their
participation in the church while others welcomed the new parish believing they
would be free to worship without scrutiny or criticism from whites. Conversely,
some whites were thrilled to have black Catholics removed from their houses of
worship while others resented that blacks had the privilege of a beautiful new
facility. Janssens hoped that blacks would flock to St. Katherine’s for the safety
and security it offered, but he was completely unwilling to force black
parishioners to change their parish allegiance. St. Katherine’s “was to be a
church of accommodation, not coercion…” Based on evidence gleaned from
school and baptismal records, Delores Labbe concluded that most black New
Orleanians did not desert their home parishes. Although most continued to attend
mass at their local parishes, there was adequate participation at social events
held at St. Katherine’s to warrant the existence of a black house of worship. 254
After the turn of the twentieth century Jim Crow restrictions grew
increasingly pervasive throughout the South and New Orleans was no exception.
253 Program commemorating the Golden Jubilee of St. Katherine of Sienna Church, 1895-1945
(New Orleans, Louisiana; September 1945) Located in the Archives of the Archdiocese of New
Orleans.
254 Jim Crow Comes to Church, 55-6.
199
In response to the increasing racism in New Orleans, St. Katherine’s parish grew
and provided a growing variety of social events and entertainment opportunities
for its parishioners and other blacks of the city. The programs and events staged
there were not limited to those who were members of the parish but were
available to all Catholics in the city. Although Archbishop Janssens was no
longer living after the turn of the century, his visionary foresight fulfilled his
mission of making the See a place where African American Catholics would feel
welcome to worship and to socialize.255
The turn of the twentieth century did not bring an immediate shift to
segregated Catholic churches; rather integrated churches continued throughout
the second decade of the twentieth century. Suddenly during the third decade of
the new century a major shift occurred and segregated parishes became the rule
rather than the exception. Whereas New Orleans had once been a model city for
integration within the Catholic Church, it quickly became the representative
model for Catholic segregation.256
The Catholic Church was not the only church placed in a precarious
position during the tumultuous post-Reconstruction years. The rapid expansion of
Protestant churches in New Orleans was most evident in the Baptist and
Methodist Episcopal congregations. As in the Catholic Church, initially both
blacks and whites worshiped in the same facilities. As in most aspects of New
Orleans society, white parishioners initially accepted African Americans who
255
256
Jim Crow Comes to Church, 56. Archbishop Janssens died in 1897.
Religion and the Rise of Jim Crow, 220.
200
were recognized as members of the elite community, especially those whose
families had long been members of the congregations. For those white
parishioners, class continued to trump race and a level of acceptance toward
elite African Americans persisted. Although race was an important issue, in New
Orleans the acknowledgment of long established parallel societies enabled more
than a few whites to grudgingly (and sometimes willingly) accept their African
American counterparts. 257
In the immediate aftermath of the Civil War, the former slaves whose
masters had denied them access to religious institutions began to attend the city
churches in larger numbers. During and after Reconstruction, the freedmen who
came to worship in these predominantly white facilities in increasingly large
numbers sought to take their rightful place within the mainstream of the
congregations rather than accepting the seats originally allocated to slaves in the
less desirable sections of the chapels. Particularly in the Methodist Episcopal
Church, this rapid expansion, and its concurrent demands for racial equality,
became a source of growing pains for black and white members alike. Although
race was the overarching cause for conflict in most cases, class was a decidedly
strong undercurrent in many of the complaints issued by whites who demanded
distinct separation of the races. 258
Religion and the Rise of Jim Crow,100.
Gatewood refers to the ME church as the “Northern Methodist” church. According to
Gatewood, after the Civil War, the northern ME missionaries flooded south and began converting,
educating and organizing freedmen into congregations. Some members of the AME (African
Methodist Episcopal) churches denigrated the ME churches arguing that blacks who belonged to
that denomination were controlled by whites who simply counted them as numbers or as
257
258
201
The irony of such complaints was that the issue of class was equally as
important to elite blacks as it was to elite whites. Because elite whites wanted to
distance themselves from the poor and illiterate of both races they depended on
elite blacks to serve as emissaries who would straddle the color line between
white society and black. Many black elites grudgingly accepted this role as part of
their responsibility for having achieved a measure of success in the dominant
society. In such cases elite blacks were compelled to straddle the color line even
when they would have much rather formed a no-man’s land in the middle. White
racism demanded that members of the elite acknowledge their position as a
member of the other even when there was virtually no commonality. For many
members of the elite, their bloodlines were more white than black; their lifestyle
mirrored white society, and their standard of living was in keeping with that of
individuals they had converted. Also arguing that African Americans were denied leadership roles
by whites who controlled the congregations, members of the AME urged black ME members to
leave their houses of worship and to participate in the AME church where they could fully
participate. Aristocrats of Color, p. 302-303; Religion and the Rise of Jim Crow, p. 100; By 1890,
the AME Church membership was in excess of 310,00 members. Edward L. Ayers, The Promise
of the new South: Life After Reconstruction. (N.Y.: Oxford University Press, 1992), 160-161.
Gatewood placed the ME Church in the category of churches to which the elite of both races
belonged. As segregation hardened and African Americans were further restricted from full
participation in worship services, many splintered off to form new African Methodist Episcopal
Church congregations (AME) where their contributions and their rights would be recognized.
Aristocrats of Color, 75-76; Archbishop Janssens recognized the detrimental effects that secular
higher education might have on black Catholics living in and around New Orleans. When Catholic
students studied in non-Catholic institutions of higher learning they were exposed to thoughts
contrary to accepted Catholic theology. Also, when (black) Creole Catholics learned to speak and
read English they began to worship in churches that were Protestant and controlled by blacks.
This was one reason Janssens cited for the creation of St. Katherine’s, a church for black
parishioners where they could have more control over their religious environment and not fear
racial discrimination. What perhaps is most interesting in the context of this study is that those
who were most likely to interact across the color line were those least likely to endorse segregated
parishes. Creoles of color who had relationships with whites and who were able to straddle the
color line felt less need for segregated (or race specific) houses of worship. Douglas Slawson
“Segregated Catholicism: The Origins of St. Katherine’s Parish, New Orleans.” Vintage Heritage
Journal, Volume 17, Issue 3 (October 1996) , 152.
202
whites of a similar economic level. New Orleans author and notable white
resident George Washington Cable also argued that class designations made far
more sense than racial categories stating, "These distinctions on the line of color
are really made not from any necessity, but simply for their own sake-- to
preserve the old arbitrary supremacy of the master class…" Cable was more
than willing to straddle the color line if it meant that he could associate with
people he believed were his social and intellectual equals rather than being
arbitrarily forced to associate with people of his own race that society deemed
acceptable . 259
Some people were fortunate enough to earn their way into New Orleans'
African American elite. Dr. A.E.P. Albert became a member of the New Orleans
black elite by virtue of his education and his occupation. He willingly accepted the
charge to serve as a liaison between the black and white communities. Born
Catholic to a white French father and a slave mother before the Civil War, Albert
was not an elite. According to historian Blair L.M. Kelley, Albert and his mother
left the Catholic Church because of racial discrimination. Following his
conversion to the Methodist Church, Albert obtained a college education and was
ordained as a pastor in the Methodist Episcopal Church.260
While still a student, Albert’s abilities were recognized by those in
positions of authority in the Methodist Episcopal hierarchy. The first
George Washington Cable, " The Freedmen's Case in Equity, 1884, quoted in Ticket to Ride, 55
& 12. George Washington Cable began a friendship and mentorship with Cleveland Ohio author
Charles W. Chesnutt. These two men exchanged many letters discussing literature and race. Some
of the letters are held in the Charles W. Chesnutt Collection at Fayetteville State University, N.C.
260 Ticket to Ride, 60.
259
203
acknowledgment of Albert’s talents was when he was appointed to serve as
assistant editor of the Southwestern Christian Advocate. Initially the paper was a
private enterprise begun by a white clergyman the Reverend Joseph Hartzell, but
it eventually became the official organ of the Methodist Episcopal Church.
Working in close association with Hartzell, Albert gradually began to assume
greater editorial responsibilities. After Albert graduated from Straight University
and Hartzell resigned from the publication, Albert became the primary editor of
the Southwestern Christian Advocate in 1881.261
The articles that appeared in the Southwestern Christian Advocate were
targeted to African American Methodists; however, they were informative and of
interest to all readers regardless of race. As a result, during Albert’s tenure, this
organ had the “largest circulation of any New Orleans newspaper” and was “read
by the whites more than any other Afro-American journal in the Union.” It
published articles of interest to Methodists, but also news of general interest to
the general public. The messages were not solely church related but sought to
educate readers on current events from a perspective sympathetic to
Methodism.262
Ticket to Ride, 60. A.E.P. Albert was an example of Janssens prediction about losing Catholics
to the Protestant faiths. Albert converted to the Methodist Episcopal Church during his tenure as
a university student. Irvine Garland Penn, The Afro-American Press and Its Editors. (Springfield,
MA.: Willey and Company Publishers, 1891), 226. Although blacks and whites may not have
participated in such journalistic endeavors with true equality; nevertheless, Albert exerted
considerable influence as an editor in one of America’s most important cities.
262 Albert's contributions and efforts were recognized throughout the United States because
religious publications of large circulation, such as the Southwestern Christian Advocate,
especially African American organs, were widely disseminated throughout the United States. In
addition, editors of other newspapers routinely copied articles of interest from other regional
papers and inserted them in their own papers attributing the content to the original author and
261
204
As editor of the Southwestern Christian Advocate, Albert had a significant
platform from which to advance his own ideas. He had control of what did and did
not appear within the pages of the paper. Inasmuch as publications of the time
espoused a particular perspective, the articles that appeared in print that were in
keeping with the philosophy of the editor and with the purpose of the organ
(which in this case was Methodism). With that thought in mind, the Advocate ran
a series of articles during September and October of 1885 that were telling. Two
of the articles in the series, “The Political Parson” and “Pulpit and Politics”
expounded that while it was admirable for a church to take a stand with regard to
a political issue, it was not wise for a religious leader to become a candidate for
office. The paper published on October 22 stated:
The political parson is out of place here in America.
There are well understood conditions why the
objection does not apply with equal voice to the
colored race. A congregation pays their pastor to
administer to their spiritual needs and their contract
does not include a stumping tour for political fame or
emolument.
All this correspondent has to say about ministers
going on the stump speaking tours for "political fame
or emolument" is exactly as he says. Except his
omission to apply it to the Negro race. If there are any
conditions against white ministers stumping for
political fame or emolument, which does not equally
apply to colored ones, they are such conditions that
alone exist in the minds of white men, and we should
be glad to have no knowledgeous [sic] correspondent
at once, proceed to inform us what they are.
source. In this way members of the African American elite maintained a tightly knit social and
political network nationwide. The Afro-American Press and Its Editors, 226.
205
We knew that Reverend Benjamin W. Arnett, a
minister in the AME Church, financial secretary of that
large and influential religious connection with an office
in St. Paul's Chapel at Nashville, Tennessee is a
candidate from Green County [Ohio].
We know they are doing a bad thing for their race by
creating the impression that there are any conditions
more favorable to them prostituting the ministerial
calling than there are for white men who do so.
The minister who wishes to enter active partisan
politics has laid upon him the duty first to relieve his
church of all blame or harm from his course by
resigning his ministerial office and credentials. he is
otherwise in the attitude of a man who is trying to
serve both God and Mammon.263
There was a two-fold purpose in the publication of this chastisement.
Albert was chastising the Reverend D.A. Lenard (white) for his candidacy
representing the Prohibition Party for the office of Governor of Ohio and also
Reverend Benjamin W. Arnett ( black) representing the Republican Party for the
State House of Representative in Ohio. It was clearly the viewpoint of Albert, and
therefore the paper, that the role of the pastor was noble and that no man could
serve well as a pastor and as a politician at the same time. Each job was a full
time occupation; the pastor must tend to his flock while the politician was
responsible to his constituents. (This mirrors the perspective espoused by Oliver
Wendell Holmes regarding physicians in the previous section.) To attempt to
carry out these callings simultaneously could only result in substandard fulfillment
“The Political Parson,” Southwestern Christian Advocate, October 22, 1885. Also see "Pulpit
and Politics," Southwestern Christian Advocate, September 10, 1885
263
206
of both. The articles that referred to pastors running for office were targeted at
black politicians, but the author clearly stated that color was not an issue with
regard to pastors being involved in politics- that the thoughts outlined applied to
whites equally. 264
The fact that a major religious publication would run a series of articles
discussing participation of ministers in political affairs implies that such
participation by members of the clergy was not an aberration. There was
significant participation by members of the cloth in the political process. This is
also evidence that members of the clergy had ample opportunity to straddle the
color line. Regardless of race, an individual running for office would have to have
significant appeal to registered voters in an area to be successful in obtaining
elective office. That person would have to have name recognition and a public
record that would inspire confidence in those funding the campaign, those
reporting on the campaign as well as those likely to show up at the polls. Some
people within Republican circles among the African American elite were just as
critical of Arnett as Albert was for using the church as a vehicle to gain elective
office. Reverend Arnett was highly ambitious and became nationally famous
among blacks and whites.265
“The Political Parson;” “Pulpit and Politics,” and “Ohio Politics,” Southwestern Christian
Advocate, October 22, 1885. The importance of Reverend Benjamin W. Arnett will be discussed
later in greater depth in the Cleveland chapter.
265 The Afro-American Press and its Editors, 224-6. For more information regarding Benjamin
Arnett see the Cleveland chapter section titled: "The Role and Influence of the Clergy in
Cleveland."
264
207
Albert also became politically involved in the Louisiana streetcar
controversy in 1890 using the Advocate to side with African American elites who
wanted the right to ride in first class accommodations on public transportation.
Albert argued that working class people of both races returned home in the
evening on street cars and were "equally dirty." In working class attire people
should be relegated to second class cars. People of all races attired in such a
manner were unpleasant to associate with; it was not a condition that was only
apparent in Negroes. Albert argued that those who were dressed in a
respectable manner and who could afford the fare should be entitled to first class
accommodation. He also used his platform as editor of the Advocate to address
the state legislature urging them to prevent passage of the separate car law that
required African Americans to ride in accommodations separate from whites.266
While Albert did not personally run for elective office, as the editor of the
Advocate he had ample opportunity to use the paper to lobby for causes he
found important. Eventually, Albert was forced out of his position as editor when
his racial position became too radical and the Methodist Church hierarchy at the
national level refused to continue to support him in his role as editor. Reverend
Albert’s talents and opportunities to straddle the color line were not limited to the
publishing world. In addition to serving as the editor of the Southwestern
Christian Advocate, by 1891 Albert was the president of the board of trustees at
New Orleans University. New Orleans University opened in 1873 and received
266
Ticket to Ride, 62-63.
208
funding from the Methodist Episcopal Church. The first Board of Trustees
consisted of fifteen members, three of whom were black. Albert had many
opportunities as president of a board that was predominantly white to interact
across the color line. In each capacity, that of editor and that of president of the
board, Albert worked closely with influential New Orleans’ whites. 267
Although Albert was raised Catholic, he was not raised in the same
manner as members of the gens de couleur libre. Like them, his first language
was French, and that gave him access to Francophone New Orleans. His
education, however, was not one of privilege and so that raises the question
whether or not his early religious experience in the South helped shape him as a
member of the elite. Did his early training give him the skills and confidence to
work across the color line? Although his language skills were certainly a positive
asset for elites in New Orleans, were they enough to help him become part of the
elite? Another question to ask might be: did Albert find more opportunities as a
member of the elite because of his position as a minister of the African Methodist
Episcopal Church than might have been available to him as a layperson within
the Catholic Church? Was his conversion a practical as well as doctrinal matter?
Such questions are worthy of a longer study of this man as there are no works
that explore his contributions in detail.
Reverend James Madison Vance, and James H. Ingraham and William G. Brown (Louisiana
State Superintendent of Education) were elite blacks who served on the first board. Both
Ingraham and Vance were politically active in the Republican Party at the national level. Black
New Orleans, 124-125; The Afro-American Press and its Editors, 224-6; Ticket to Ride, 69.
267
209
In addition to the Catholic and the African Methodist Episcopal Churches,
there was a significant African American population that belonged to the Baptist
churches in New Orleans during the post-Reconstruction era. Edward Ayers
states that by 1890 there were more than a million black Baptists living in the
South, “more than three times as many as any other black denomination.” That
number should not be surprising, but among elites the number of people who
participated in the Baptist faith was significantly smaller. Members of the elite
traditionally worshiped in Protestant churches where the liturgy was more formal
and subdued. Many members of the elite shunned churches with emotional
displays during the services. Because so few members of the elites were active
in the Baptist churches in New Orleans, there was little interaction on a level of
equality between Baptist African American leaders in New Orleans and powerful
whites. In addition, because the Baptist churches did not have a strong central
organizational structure, preferring their churches not to be part of a religious
hierarchy, there was little opportunity for ambitious black preachers to rise to high
levels of leadership in New Orleans. Based on these reasons, the Baptist
traditions across the color line are not discussed with regard to New Orleans. 268
268
The Promise of the New South, 160; Aristocrats of Color, 282-3.
The Social and Political influence of Elite African American
Politicians, Clergy and Physicians in Cleveland, Ohio
Introduction
Cleveland, Ohio, was unique among northern cities. Like Charleston and
New Orleans it is a port city. Located in a region once called The Western
Reserve, Cleveland grew slowly as part of the westward expansion of America in
the years following the Revolutionary War. It was a place of new beginnings; a
place full of hope and opportunities. That is the vision that prompted African
Americans to settle in the Forest City as they attempted to make a new life for
themselves. 269
The author Charles W. Chesnutt was highlighted in the introduction to this
dissertation. He epitomized the Victorian gentlemen of the black elite who called
Cleveland home. In this chapter, Ohio State Senator John Patterson Green
illustrates the opportunities available to African Americans in one northern city
during the Gilded Age. At that moment in time in Cleveland some African
Americans believed that anything and everything was possible. Green's political
success seemed to affirm that belief. Reminiscing about his early years in the city
269 George W. Knepper, Ohio and Its People, Bicentennial Edition ( Kent, OH.: Kent State
University Press, 2003), 48-49 & 80-81.
210
211
in a letter to historian James Ford Rhodes, George A. Myers (a contemporary of
Green's) wrote in 1921, " Where Cleveland was once free from race prejudice, it
is now anything but that…"Although frustrated by the situation, Myers remained
optimistic that circumstances could be reversed and that reason and logic would
prevail. Myers hoped that the increase of racism was temporary and it would
subside as soon as the southern migrants became acclimated to city life. 270
Initially, members of the African American elite seemed immune to the
harshest influence of racism in Cleveland at the end of the nineteenth century.
Their community was small, they were generally well- respected professionals,
and they were somewhat affluent. Most of these men could go where they
wished and do as they pleased in Cleveland. This chapter will argue that George
A. Myers was representative of a small, influential cadre of African American men
who exerted power in Cleveland from 1880 into the 1920s. For members of the
black elite living in Cleveland, there was little or no overt racism.
The black population of Cleveland was initially far smaller than both of the
southern cities studied and the number of African American physicians reflected
the size of the black community. African American physicians were generally
members of the black elite but they were greatly underrepresented in Cleveland
during the early years of this study. During the second decade of the twentieth
century, a time known as the Great Migration, many southerners immigrated to
George A. Myers to James Ford Rhodes, February 10, 1921 in John A. Garraty, ed. The Barber
and the Historian: The Correspondence of George A. Myers and James Ford Rhodes, 19101923. (Columbus: Ohio Historical Society, 1956), 124.
270
212
the urban north and Cleveland's medical community grew as well. This chapter
will show that social and political influence of African American physicians
became noticeable far later in Cleveland than in either New Orleans or
Charleston. Because they came to prominence far later than other African
American businessmen, physicians had greater difficulty, as a group, attaining
the respect they believed they deserved in Cleveland.271
This chapter will also show that African American churches, and their
respective clergymen in Cleveland, played a much more muted role than
members of the clergy played in the post-Reconstruction South. The presence of
large African American churches evolved later in Cleveland than in the southern
cities. African American churches multiplied quickly in the South in the aftermath
of the Civil War. That trend did not begin until the twentieth century in Cleveland.
There were a few black churches that began during the late nineteenth century,
but the lack of virulent racism made the need for a religious place of respite far
less important than in the southern cities. There was little need for African
American clergymen to serve as liaisons or advocates for their parishioners until
the second decade of the twentieth century. The few African American Catholics
271 Historian Kenneth L. Kusmer discusses the effect of the Great Migration on Cleveland in the
context of the "influx of black migrants and the hardening of racial lines in Cleveland after 1915"
in his seminal work A Ghetto Takes Shape. The Great Migration was a mass movement of
millions of African Americans from the rural South to the urban centers of the North and Midwest
that began during the nineteen-teens. When World War I began in Europe, the steady stream of
immigrants to America was cut off. American factories ramped up production to supply war
materials to Europe and there was a desperate need for unskilled workers to meet labor demands.
The need for workers, coupled with impoverished conditions and lack of opportunities in the
South, created a perfect environment for the mass migration of blacks from the South to the
North. See Kenneth Kusmer, A Ghetto Takes Shape: Black Cleveland 1870-1930. ( Urbana:
University of Illinois, 1976, paperback, Illini edition 1978), 157- 173.
213
who lived in the city worshipped in integrated churches in their residential
neighborhoods.
As might be anticipated, because of geographic and demographic
differences, there are striking differences in the role of African American elites in
Cleveland compared with African American elites in either of the southern cities
examined in this dissertation. This chapter examines the challenges and
opportunities politicians in the black elite experienced and how those elements
shaped their world view.
At the end of the nineteenth century members of Cleveland's black elite
believed racial equality was a very real possibility; however, the population shift
that occurred in Cleveland during the Great Migration changed everything.
Members of the black elite continued to straddle the color line until the end of
their lives. They worked hard to diminish racism, to improve the lines of
communication and to secure equal opportunities for blacks and whites in
Cleveland. By the third decade of the twentieth century, it became apparent that
the road to equality would be longer and more difficult than anyone could have
imagined. A new generation of men, the "New Negro" would be left to carry on
the fight.
214
We have a cozy home, in the East End. We would
be pleased to have you and Mrs. Green come out
and visit us sometime.
-- John D. Rockefeller
The question is not whether the best white men
are better than the best black men, or whether the
worst black men are worse than the worst white
men. The question is whether the Negro shall be
regarded as a man. The question is whether he
belongs to the human race. If he be a man, all
rights which belong to a man should be given to
him…
--Reverend Charles F. Thwing272
The life of Ohio Senator John Patterson Green could serve as an African
American "Horatio Alger" story. Green was the epitome of a self-made man and
his life exemplified the possibilities open to an ambitious young man of color in
Cleveland during the Progressive Era. In the sense that an ambitious man could
work hard and achieve success, he was not unique. However, for a man of color,
he was exceptional. Very few upper middle class white men received personal
invitations to visit socially with men like John D. Rockefeller and his wife. Even
fewer people of color were afforded such opportunities. Green's achievements
served as a powerful example that African Americans could achieve power and
prestige in Cleveland. This chapter argues that John P. Green was
John P. Green, Fact Stranger Than Fiction: Seventy-Five Years of a Busy Life with
Reminiscences of Many Great and Good Men and Women. (Cleveland: Riehl Printing Company,
1919), 213. Cleveland Journal, Cleveland, OH, November 14, 1903.
272
215
representative of a select group of black men who rose to political power in Ohio
during the Gilded Age and Progressive Era. Those extraordinary, elite, black men
in Cleveland, who wielded social and political power, continued their influence
until that northern city bowed under the weight of the Great Migration as millions
of African Americans moved north to seek opportunities during the World War I
era. 273
John P. Green’s father, John R. Green, was born a slave in New Bern,
North Carolina. Some time before 1814, John R. purchased his freedom. At that
time, New Bern was a sizable southern city where the African American
population, slave and free, exceeded that of the white population. As a free black
man living in New Bern, John R. Green exhibited his industry and
resourcefulness by opening and operating a successful tailor shop from 1814
until 1850. One marker of the success of Green’s tailor shop was his willingness
and his ability to take on an apprentice. In February 1825, Green went to court at
the county seat of Craven County to pay the necessary fees to acquire an
apprentice, a young “free boy of color, called Thomas Marshall.” It was
Horatio Alger Jr. was an author of fiction who created characters that achieved greatness
despite almost insurmountable odds that were placed in their paths. That a man like John P.
Green could rise from obscurity and poverty in the South, move north to Cleveland and associate
with men of power like John D. Rockefeller should have been a work of fiction, but it was reality.
Such experiences allowed other men of color to believe they too could achieve greatness with
enough hard work and dedication.
The Great Migration was a mass movement of millions of African Americans from the rural South
to the urban centers of the North and Midwest that began during the nineteen-teens. When World
War I began in Europe, the steady stream of immigrants to America was cut off. American
factories ramped up production to supply war materials to Europe and there was a desperate
need for unskilled workers to meet labor demands. The need for workers, coupled with
impoverished conditions and lack of opportunities in the South, created a perfect environment for
the mass migration of blacks from the South to the North. See Kenneth Kusmer, A Ghetto Takes
Shape: Black Cleveland 1870-1930. ( Urbana: University of Illinois, 1976,paperback, Illini edition
1978), 157- 173.
273
216
extraordinary that John R. Green was able to build and sustain a thriving
business in the South during the antebellum era. It was even more unusual that
he was successful enough to take on the financial obligation of an apprentice.274
During the 1820s as his success increased, John R. Green married and
built a substantial house for his family in New Bern. By the time their son, John P.
Green was born on April 2, 1845, Temperance and John R. Green belonged to
New Bern's thriving free black community, one that had existed since colonial
times. The wealth and the social standing the Green family acquired during those
years enabled them to purchase a pew in Christ Episcopal Church in New Bern.
John P. Green developed a strong social and cultural identity as part of elite
black society during his formative years in New Bern.275
Following the death of her husband, Temperance Green could no longer
maintain her economic livelihood in New Bern. She moved the family north to
Cleveland, Ohio in 1857. It may have been the potential for opportunities in a free
I was unable to find any references to other African American artisans who held apprentices.
Where possible, free African Americans purchased slaves as an indication of their wealth and also
as a representation of their financial success. L. Diane Barnes discusses the role of white artisans
in the Upper South arguing that white artisans united to present their racial superiority to African
Americans and to carved out a niche that allowed them to maintain respectability despite being
employed at manual labor 9work that was usually performed by slaves). L. Diane Barnes Artisan
Workers in the Upper South: Petersburg, Virginia 1820-1865.(Baton Rouge, Louisiana State
University Press, 2008), 178-193. In 1820, New Bern, North Carolina was the 8th largest city in
the South and the largest city in North Carolina. By 1900 it was no longer among the largest cities
in the South, but it remained among the top ten in population for the state of North Carolina.
(North Carolina Business History Website;
http://www.historync.org/NCCityPopulations1800s.htm. ) Accessed November 22, 2009. The
population of New Bern was less than 4,000 people in 1820, but the city more than doubled in
size between 1820 and 1900. Craven County Apprentice Bonds 1769-1839, reel one.
275 African American Heritage Tour brochure, New Bern North Carolina, Craven County
Convention and Visitors Center, 2004. Christ Episcopal Church was not then, nor is it now an
African American denomination. The Episcopal Church is an American denomination descended
from the Church of England (also known as the Anglican Church). Christ Episcopal Church has a
long history in New Bern dating back to 1715.
274
217
state that prompted her to move the family north; or perhaps, it was the growing
tensions and pressures on free blacks in the South that escalated during the
decade preceding the Civil War. Whatever the reason, the liberal racial
atmosphere in Cleveland provided fertile ground that allowed John P. his first
opportunity to excel. As he grew to adulthood, the identity that was first
established in New Bern provided the framework that allowed Green to develop
into a man who would successfully straddle the color line throughout his long life.
276
During his first two years in Cleveland John P. Green attended public
school, but financial circumstances soon forced him to trade the world of school
for the world of work. For more than six years Green postponed his desire for
further education to help his mother support the family. In his 1919 memoir,
Green remembered the day in September 1864 when the affluent Republican
businessman and future politician, Mark Hanna and his wife married. At that time,
Green earned his living waiting on tables in Cleveland. He wrote rather
nostalgically that he “ministered to the[ir] wants” of Mr. Hanna and his wife on
their wedding day (serving as a waiter). Surely neither Hanna nor Green could
276 A Ghetto Takes Shape, 118-9. Edward M. Miggins and Mary Morgenthaler "The Ethnic Mosaic:
The Settlement of Cleveland by the New Immigrants and Migrants" in Thomas F. Campbell and
Edward M. Miggins, eds. The Birth of Modern Cleveland: 1865- 1930, (Cleveland: Western
Reserve Historical Society, 1988), 129. Both Kusmer and Campbell use the example of Green's
election to public office in 1882 as evidence of the racial liberalism evident in Cleveland. Parents
of the Cleveland author Charles W. Chesnutt (cousin to John P. Green) also relocated from North
Carolina before the Civil War because of the opportunities and lack of animosity toward African
Americans in Cleveland. It is likely that Cleveland was more racially tolerant because slavery was
outlawed when the Old Northwest was organized. It is also likely that New England abolitionists
were among the first to settle in the Western Rerserve.
218
have imagined on that day that the two would later work closely together in
Cleveland’s political arena.277
During those early years in Cleveland, Green worked hard and earned
enough money to purchase a home for his mother. Finally when he was twentyone years old, believing that he had fulfilled his duty to his mother, Green
matriculated at Central High School in Cleveland. According to his recollections,
Green was the only "colored student," yet he did not recall experiencing any
racism during his academic experience. He completed his high school education
in 1869 graduating near the top of his class. While at Central High, Green had
the good fortune to be taught by a woman named Laura Spelman, the future wife
of John D. Rockefeller. This accident of fate would come to significantly influence
his life in later years.278
Fact Stranger Than Fiction, 114. Mark Hanna was married September 27, 1864 Cuyahoga
County Archive; Cleveland, Ohio; Cuyahoga County, Ohio, Marriage Records, 18101973; Volume: 10-12; 30; Year Range: 1859 Jun - 1866 Jun. accessed at Ancestry.com. July 25,
2012
278 Fact Stranger than Fiction, 113-115; 213-221. Green's memoir was published in 1920 when he
was seventy-five years old. It is possible that the memories of his childhood were dimmed by the
passage of time allowing Green to forget any racial slights that might have occurred. It is also
possible that Green was an anomaly at Central High School and the other students accepted his
presence without incident. Green’s teacher, Laura Spelman eventually married the wealthy
businessman John D. Rockefeller and left her teaching career. In later years, Green would have
the opportunity to dine at the Rockefeller home and at one of their meetings, Rockefeller offered
to finance a trip to Europe for Green. Such a trip was far outside the possibilities for most middle
class African Americans; however, this opportunity placed Green firmly in the midst of the
African American elite class. The opportunity to tour Europe broadened his knowledge and
allowed him a worldly perspective that advanced his career both politically and economically. His
European experiences also allowed Green to put the issue of race into a global perspective. People
of color were not subject to discrimination in Europe in the same ways they might have been in
America. A man like Rockefeller, who enjoyed both immense wealth and social status, would
have no fear of his reputation being tainted by social encounters with African Americans. Because
of his immense wealth he set the standards and few people would dare to criticize anything
Rockefeller would do. In addition, very few Americans were on an equal social and economic level
with men like Rockefeller; therefore, paternalistic behavior within a relationship would apply to
virtually anyone a man like Rockefeller chose to sponsor or befriend.
219
Following graduation, then superintendent of Cleveland public schools,
Andrew J. Rickoff, advised Green to study law. Cleveland judge Jesse P. Bishop
invited Green to study law at his firm. Had this opportunity not materialized,
Green stated that he probably would have pursued a career in medicine or
theology. While this might suggest that middle-class career opportunities for
young black men were limited, it is perhaps a more obvious example of how
influential whites in Cleveland were willing to extend a hand across the color line
to young people who had academic and intellectual potential. 279
After only four months reading law in Judge Bishop’s office, Green was
approached with yet another opportunity by another influential white man. This
time the offer was from John Crowell, former congressman and at the time,
president of Union Law College in Cleveland. When Crowell suggested Green
enroll in the college, Green replied that he did not have the money. Crowell told
Green that he should enroll and could reimburse the school after he graduated.
Green enrolled and recollected that he enjoyed “great pleasure and profit…from
the fraternal intercourse which I found in the midst of those big-hearted, kindly
disposed young men.” Again, Green makes no mention of racial discrimination,
nor did he suggest that he felt anything less than a complete equality amidst the
other students with whom he studied. If such memories were correct, and not
clouded by the passage of years, they provide a clear picture of the nature of the
society that Green and other educated African Americans encountered in post-
279
Fact Stranger Than Fiction, 117.
220
Civil War Cleveland. It was not evidence that there was no racism in Cleveland,
rather that there were few black men in Cleveland who had the education and
ability evidenced in John P. Green. It is also an indication that Green had access
to some of the most educated white men in the city who were not worried about
being socially ostracized by befriending an African American who had significant
intellectual ability. 280
Following his 1873 graduation from law school, Green gained employment
in Cleveland working in the office of attorney William T. Clark. By that time,
Green had become active in Cuyahoga County Republican Party politics. In April
of 1873 the Republican Party appointed a committee to prepare a slate of
candidates for the upcoming municipal election.
Certain officers reported in favor of nominating
Messrs B.W. Goddard, J.P. Green (colored) and H. B.
Bates [and others for the office of Justice of the
Peace]…the first ballot resulted in the choice of J.P.
Green the vote being as follows:
Green
31
Goddard 21
Bates
17 281
A man named John Huntington headed the Republican ticket for
the office of mayor. Far down on the ticket was the name of John P. Green who
had been nominated for the position of justice of the peace. Following the
election, when the votes were finally counted, Huntington had lost his bid as
280 Fact Stranger Than Fiction , 118. Green’s experiences should not be characterized as
commonplace or typical in Cleveland or elsewhere. Such experiences were not typical for middle
class people of any race or ethnicity of that era.
281 "Republican City Convention, " Plain Dealer (Cleveland), April 17, 1873
221
mayor; however, much to the surprise of all, Green was elected to office by a
majority of “more than three thousand” votes. Green’s election was the first
African American political victory in Cleveland.282
The election of John P. Green as justice of the peace would not have
been surprising had Huntington succeeded in his bid for mayor. In that instance
the assumption might be that voters had simply voted a straight Republican Party
ticket. However, that was not the case. It was clear that Cuyahoga County voters
carefully considered the slate of candidates who were running and who should
be elected to office. Additionally, since Green's race was identified in the initial
report when the committee chose him as their candidate, voters likely knew that
he was African American. Finally, Cleveland voters appeared to be satisfied with
their choice of Green for the position because his election was not a one time
anomaly; in subsequent races he was reelected and served in the position as
justice of the peace for a total of nine years.283
During the late nineteenth century, the office of justice of the peace was
not as insignificant as it is today. At that time, a monetary bond of five thousand
dollars was required of all men serving in that office. That sum was far in excess
of what the average middle class person living in Cleveland earned in income in
a year’s time. Attorney W.C. McFarland, for whom Green worked while he was
attending law school, posted the bond for several of those years. Some of the
responsibilities inherent to the office of justice of the peace included civil court
282
283
Fact Stranger Than Fiction, 150-151.
Fact Stranger Than Fiction, 150-151; Kusmer, A Ghetto Takes Shape, 118.
222
cases with a monetary value of not more than three hundred dollars; cases of
forcible entry and forcible detention; and “examining powers in all felonies and
misdemeanors from murder down.” According to Green, the responsibilities
“made the court of justice of the peace [in Cleveland] of more importance that
that of a Municipal Court Judge in Washington, D.C. or elsewhere at the time.” 284
When we understand that election to the office of justice of the peace was
one of high visibility, albeit at a local level, it casts a different light on the issue.
Attorneys practicing law in Cleveland would have had many opportunities to
argue cases in front of a justice of the peace. For this reason city attorneys and
justices would have ample time to become well acquainted; they would be well
aware of the personal abilities and shortcomings of each other. If Green had
initially been nominated and elected by chance, he could not have continued in
office for subsequent terms if he had not provided exemplary service. His political
opponents would have used both his race and his failures as a justice to defeat
him after his first term.
In his memoirs Green commented on the personal and political
relationships that resulted from his 1873 election as a justice. Myron T. Herrick,
served on the Cleveland City Council from 1885-1888, as governor of Ohio from
Fact Stranger Than Fiction, 151. The average manufacturing sector worker earned $1.56 a day
which translated to less than $500 annually in 1870 ( assuming that the worker was employed
299 days a year). quoted from Clarence Dickenson Long, Wages and Earnings in the United
States 1860-1890. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1960), 48. Green may have made the
comparison regarding the importance of the role of a justice of the peace in Cleveland with the
role of municipal court judge in Washington, D.C. because of his close personal association with
Washington D.C. Municipal Court Judge Robert H. Terrell. Terrell, a Harvard graduate, was the
first African American justice of the peace in the nations capital and later appointed municipal
court judge there. Terrell was the husband of the famed Mary Church Terrell, a social and political
activist.
284
223
1904- 1906, and also as the United States Ambassador to France 1912-1914,
reminded Green in correspondence, " that you were one of my first friends when,
as a young man, I was admitted to the Bar." Likewise, Ohio Senator Theodore E.
Burton recalled having "tried his first case in [Green's] court" as a young lawyer.
These were just two of the important relationships Green established while
serving as justice of the peace. His relationships with these two powerful men
were just a small part of the extensive social and professional network that Green
amassed during his very long lifetime.285
In 1881, the Republican Party nominated Green to run as a candidate
representing Cuyahoga County for the Ohio State House of Representatives.
Although Green does not discuss why the Republican Party chose him to run, it
seems likely that his ability to make connections across the color line, as well as
his performance as a justice of the peace, may have led to his nomination.
Green's election, and reelection, may suggest that Cleveland voters were
ambivalent about race; however, Green's actions during his first run for statelevel office suggests that he feared race might play a role in the outcome of the
Fact Stranger Than Fiction, 152. These opening pages rely heavily on Green's memoir;
however, there are no biographies of Green and this is a serious void in the existing scholarship.
For the purposes of this dissertation, it is important to focus on his accomplishments as a political
pioneer and role as a civic leader. In 1873, Green became the first African American elected to
political office in Cleveland. It would not be the last successful election for Green. Herrick and
Burton were two Cleveland politicians who became intimately acquainted with Green during the
early years of his career. Green made many important alliances while attending law school and
working as a justice of the peace. In Cleveland, in the waning years of the nineteenth century,
social class appeared to be far more powerful than race in the determination of alliances and
interracial relationships. It will be demonstrated that other members of the African American
elite were able to straddle the color line in Cleveland in ways that could not have been imagined in
other locations. Green was still actively employed as an attorney when he died as the result of a
traffic accident in 1940 (at age 95).
285
224
election. During the campaign, Green penned a letter to the editor of the
(Cleveland) Leader designed to confront the race issue rather than ignore it. He
wrote, "I would not insult the intelligence of the people of this district by asking
them to endorse me because I am white, black or brown; for this, in my opinion is
no more a reason for accepting of a man than for rejecting him." If he wished to
be elected to public office, he could not avoid confronting the issue of race. He
made it clear to his readers that he regarded all races as equal and expected
intelligent voters to do the same. The results of the election indicate that his fears
were unwarranted and that the electorate didn't care if he was "white, black or
brown."286
In 1880, African Americans comprised approximately one percent of
Cleveland's population of just over 160,000 people. There were not enough
African Americans living in the city to elect a black candidate. In the election of
1881, Green again secured a commanding lead and he became the first African
American from Cuyahoga County to serve in Ohio's House of Representatives
when he was sworn into office in January 1882. Ultimately, Green served two,
non-consecutive terms in the Ohio House and one term in the Ohio Senate.
Clearly race was not an issue for Cleveland voters during the election of 1881. 287
Cleveland Leader, August 31, 1881.
Fact Stranger Than Fiction, 171; A Ghetto Takes Shape, p. 10; Report on the Social Statistics
of Cities, Census of Population and Housing, 1880 Census
According to the 1880 United States Census report, the white population of Cleveland was
158,084 people and the population of "colored people including 23 Chinese and 1 Indian" was
2,062.
286
287
225
Rayford Logan addressed the issue of race in The Negro in American Life
and Thought: The Nadir 1877-1901. Logan said, "The problem of determining the
place that Negroes should occupy in American life was the most difficult of the
'racial' problems that confronted the American government and people after the
Civil War." Green's run for office challenged residents of Cleveland to decide
what the "place" of African Americans would be in their city. They were forced to
decide if race would be a determining factor in choosing elected officials. They
could reject the candidacy of a qualified man simply because of his race or they
could choose the best candidate and ignore the color of his skin. The election of
Green was an early test of the racial attitudes in one major American city. White
people did not seem adverse to voting for a black man. The majority of Green's
votes had to have come from white Clevelanders given the small percentage of
African Americans living in Cleveland in 1881. The black population of Cleveland
was far too small to sway an election.288
As a member of Cleveland's African American elite, John P. Green was
one of a very small minority. By his accounts, Green did not experience the sting
of racism as a factor of daily life. He practiced law and served as an elected
official from Cleveland associating with men of like education and status. He did
not see himself as less than his white counterparts. Green fondly recalled the day
he was sworn into office saying, "I was sworn in and took my seat [I was part of]
a group of some very conspicuous and able members…I may say, here, that
Rayford W. Logan, The Negro in American Life and Thought: The Nadir 1877-1901. (N.Y.:
Dial Press, 1954), 3.
288
226
without exception, during the entire sessions of this General Assembly, I had
nothing to complain of in this direction." Again, if Green's recollections are
accurate, this memory affirms that the other elected officials treated him as a
colleague and not as an anomaly. He was elected to represent Cuyahoga County
and he fulfilled that obligation. The extensive network of colleagues that he
established in Cleveland led to an even greater, more powerful network after his
experiences in Columbus at the state capitol. 289
Near the end of his very long life, Green had nothing but positive
memories of his time served in the Ohio legislature. He affirmed that he was
treated with respect not only within the halls of government but also at home in
the city of Cleveland. Other members of Cleveland's African American elite
echoed Green's sentiments about being accepted as professional equals in
Cleveland. John P. Green, George A. Myers, Charles W. Chesnutt, and others,
straddled the color line in Cleveland. They had access to any restaurant or hotel,
could attend the theater and opera, and participated fully in the political arena.
Perhaps it was their close association with Cleveland's rich and powerful that
gave them access to the people and places most members of the white middle
class did not enjoy. Certainly they lived privileged lives, not just financially, but
socially and intellectually. 290
Fact Stranger Than Fiction, 171.
The only exception to this lack of racism was when Charles W. Chesnutt was rejected for
admission to the Rowfant Club, an exclusive literary society, the first time he was nominated. He
was later renominated and accepted into full fellowship. According to his daughter Helen,
Chesnutt remembered his membership as one of the most intellectually rewarding aspects of his
life. (see Helen M. Chesnutt, Charles W. Chesnutt: Pioneer of the Color Line. (Chapel Hill:
289
290
227
John P. Green took his responsibility as a public servant seriously. He
represented all the people of his district with equal diligence. While serving in the
Ohio House of Representatives, Green opposed the passage of any law that
even hinted at racial segregation. His first opportunity to go to battle for his race
in the state legislature occurred in 1883. At that time Green, and other state
legislators, succeeded in the elimination of all residual black codes in the state of
Ohio. In conjunction with that cleansing, the Ohio House enacted the Civil Rights
law of 1884 that granted equal accommodation in the state to all people in all
public places. 291
During the Sixty-ninth session of the Ohio General Assembly (1890), John
P. Green served as a state senator. At that time, Senator McDermott
(representative from Muskingum County) proposed legislation that would create
segregated schools when twenty-five African American parents petitioned for a
new school in any Ohio district. Green was vehemently opposed to segregation
and "fought this measure desperately every time it came before the House…".
Green believed that any type of segregation was inherently unfair and that all
children were to be accommodated equally. 292
University of North Carolina Press, 1952), 244. Harry Smith, African American editor and owner
of the Cleveland Gazette was not part of Cleveland's black elite even though he was well known
and prominent in many civic and political events in the city. An episode where Smith was refused
admittance to a Cleveland restaurant will be discussed below. In reaction to his insult, Smith
returned to the restaurant with Green and Myers and was treated with respect on that later
occasion.
291 The Birth of Modern Cleveland, 130.
292 Fact Stranger Than Fiction, 186-187.
228
Although he served in a variety of capacities for a great many years, John
P. Green is best known for sponsoring a bill first enacted in Ohio, but which
would later become law throughout the entire nation. That bill led to the creation
of the Labor Day holiday. It was signed into Ohio law in April 1890 designating
the first Monday in September to be set aside as a day to honor labor. This same
holiday was soon sponsored as a bill before the U.S. Congress where it became
a national holiday four years later. 293
Although such success was modest in the world of national politics, it does
stand to highlight the initial accomplishment of one African American politician
from Cleveland. It is also important to note, that even if he had not enjoyed any
specific legislative successes, the accomplishment of securing multiple
nominations and electoral victories were evidence that opportunities were
available in Cleveland that were unavailable in other less egalitarian cities.
Certainly Cleveland was not alone in electing African Americans to
political office. The Reconstruction period has ample evidence of African
Americans serving their cities and states throughout the South. What is different
in the case of Cleveland was that the voting population of the city was
overwhelmingly white in this northern state. In Louisiana, South Carolina,
Mississippi, and North Carolina there were political districts that had a greater
than fifty percent African American population. Electoral success of black
candidates would be more predictable in such regions. During the 1870s and
293
Fact Stranger Than Fiction, 186-189.
229
1880s, when John P. Green began his political career, the black population of
Cleveland and northern Ohio was statistically small. The likelihood of a black
candidate having success at the polls should be surprising, but Green was
successful on multiple occasions. That success cannot be attributed only to
patronage on the part of influential whites who wanted to make a statement
regarding the political liberality of the state of Ohio. There must be another
explanation.294
If white party bosses had wanted a candidate they could manipulate into
following party plans they could have groomed a white candidate who would
have towed the party line and voted in a way that appeased the establishment.
That situation would have been far more likely to easily garner political success
than an African American. Such a candidate would have been easier to sell to
the voting public than an African American man, even in a racially liberal city like
Cleveland. Had Green been the only African American to serve in government
representing either Cleveland or some other area of Ohio we might deduce that
the Republican Party used Green as a pawn to show that a black man could be
elected in a northern state just as well as he could be in a southern state under
control of military rule. We could speculate and say that the more likely
explanation was that a significant number of white men in Ohio were desirous of
proving their enlightened views with regard to race. There is no evidence that
294 A Ghetto Takes Shape,10 &. 143. In 1870 the total population of Cleveland was 92,829. That
rose to 160, 416 by 1880. The total black population of Cleveland was 1,293 in 1870 rising to
2,062 in 1880. Those numbers are total population, not registered voters. Statistically the black
population was not large enough to elect any candidate without strong support from white voters.
230
shows how or why Green was encouraged to run for office initially. After
successfully serving as a justice of the peace, he had name recognition and a
proven record. He was unsuccessful in his first campaign for state office in 1877,
losing by just a few votes after a recount in one precinct. That campaign
experience proved valuable and his next attempt in 1881 was successful by a
wide margin. 295
Also, because the number of African Americans living in the state was
statistically small, white people had not yet had sufficient opportunity to feel
overwhelmed by or threatened by the emancipation of the former slaves or by the
presence of free blacks. It was clear that for educated, qualified African
Americans living in Ohio, there were indeed windows of opportunity. There were
some whites who were able and willing to help qualified blacks advance their
cause by placing black candidates in a position where they were able to win
elections despite the overwhelming whiteness of the population.296
John P. Green was not the only well-educated African American
participating in Ohio’s electoral politics during the Gilded Age. Jere Brown also
belonged to the small but thriving, politically active, elite African American
population in the city of Cleveland. Like John P. Green, Jere Brown realized that
party politics was a path to upward economic and social mobility. Brown was
born in Pittsburgh in 1841 and as a young man he attended college in
Fact Stranger Than Fiction, 152- 154. A Ghetto Takes Shape, 143.
A Ghetto Takes Shape, 118; 143. Kusmer makes a passing reference to the existence of “racial
liberalism” in Cleveland, but fails to develop this idea.
295
296
231
Pennsylvania. He lived for a time in Canada and St. Louis before making
Cleveland his permanent home during the early 1870s.297
Through his contacts in the Republican Party, Brown obtained several
minor patronage positions, including letter carrier, before his subsequent election
as a member of the Ohio House of Representatives in 1885. Brown served two
terms between 1886 and 1889 as a state representative during which time he
was instrumental in creating coalitions that repealed the remaining black laws
from Ohio’s books, laws that had allowed discrimination in the insurance industry.
Although there were few African Americans in positions of political power,
interracial cooperation was the norm, rather than the exception, among elite
blacks and their white counterparts in Cleveland society. Throughout the
remainder of his life Brown continued to be active in political life, but had only
those two sessions of elective office.298
Throughout their lives, even during the years they did not live in
Cleveland, John P. Green and Jere Brown maintained close ties to Republican
politicians in Cleveland. During the years covered by this study, the city of
Cleveland exerted a disproportionately large amount of influence on the national
political scene. Ohio Republicans Rutherford B. Hayes, James A. Garfield,
David D. VanTassel, The Encyclopedia of Cleveland History, (http://ech.case.edu/echcgi/article.pl?id=BJA3) accessed 5/17/2012. Harry C. Smith, owner of The Cleveland
Gazette, served three terms in the Ohio legislature. 1894-98 and 1900-1902. See Kusmer, A
Ghetto Takes Shape, 131-2.
298 A Ghetto Takes Shape,121. In the late 1800s, appointments to positions within the postal
service were often made as a reward for service to a candidate. For African Americans these were
exceptionally elite positions. Government service was steady, well paid employment that carried
the image of respectability,
297
232
William McKinley and William H. Taft all served as president during these four
decades. With most African American voters still solidly loyal to the party of
Lincoln, those elite blacks who were staunch Republican Party members had
ample opportunity to meet, mingle and come to know these men who would
become president. Prior to their election as president Taft and McKinley each
had occasion to partake of the luxury and services provided by Cleveland’s
Hollenden Hotel while attending to business in the city. It was at the Hollenden
that their paths merged with an ambitious young man by the name of George A.
Myers who, although nearly a generation younger than Jere Brown, was coming
into prominence in Ohio Republican politics.299
Myers, also a transplant to Ohio, rapidly became another key member of
Cleveland’s African American political scene. In 1858, he was born into a
prosperous, free-black family in Baltimore, Maryland. There, Myers’ father Isaac
was a businessman and labor union organizer. Isaac and his wife Emma were
members of Baltimore's thriving free-black community. Isaac tried unsuccessfully
to convince George to become a doctor, but the city of Baltimore would not
accept African Americans into the segregated public schools. Despite his father’s
wishes, George trained as a barber, a career that was both respected and
lucrative for African Americans during the Reconstruction era. 300
A Ghetto Takes Shape,123.
The Encyclopedia of Cleveland History, http://ech.case.edu/echcgi/article.pl?id=MGA1(accessed September 21, 2012) ; Garraty, The Barber and the Historian.
Kusmer, 122-3. Isaac Myers was the owner of a ship-yard in Baltimore that employed only
African Americans. Isaac also George A. Myers was no stranger to politics when he moved to
Cleveland. His father had long been active in political affairs in Baltimore and so like Walter
299
300
233
By 1879, realizing the limitations he faced as a result of the growing
racism in the upper South, Myers headed north in search of opportunities. Soon
after his arrival in Cleveland, he found employment as a barber at the Weddell
House Hotel and quickly became part of the city's vibrant, African American,
upper-class society.301
When Myers moved to Cleveland, the Weddell House was perhaps the
finest hotel in the city. There in the hotel barber shop, as well as in the wellappointed bar, the city’s most influential white men came to be served and to
conduct business. At that time, men who could afford the daily services of a
barber did so, and as a result, the barber shop became the place for an informal
start to the work day. In that environment, men who mattered in the city of
Cleveland met to discuss business and political matters. 302
For Myers, employment as a barber at the Weddell House became the
opportunity of a lifetime. The workplace quickly became an institution of higher
learning for the young barber. Attending to his clients, he quietly listened to the
conversations that swirled around him and before long George ventured to dip
his toe into Cleveland’s water. It was a natural step for Myers to become involved
in Republican Party politics in Cleveland. As an up and coming member of
Cohen, Myers was born into a family steeped in political tradition. For more on the growing
racism in Baltimore during the latter half of the nineteenth century see Leroy Graham, Baltimore:
The Nineteenth Century Black Capital. (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1982).
301 A Ghetto Takes Shape, 122-3. There is not a great deal of information available about George
A. Myers' early years in Cleveland. The papers preserved in his collection begin with 1890, when
George was 32 years old and already on his way to becoming a politically powerful force in
Cleveland.
302 A Ghetto Takes Shape, 123.
234
Cleveland’s elite black community, he certainly had contact with men like John P.
Green and Jere Brown. He also gleaned a great deal of political information from
his associations with wealthy and powerful white men who patronized the hotel's
exclusive barber shop.303
In 1885 a new and more spectacular hotel opened in Cleveland serving
both residential and transient guests. The Hollenden Hotel quickly surpassed the
Weddell House as the place to be in Cleveland. At the time the Hollenden
opened, Myers was already well-known and respected by influential whites in the
city. Because he was intelligent and socially well-connected, six wealthy white
businessmen loaned Myers twenty five dollars each; Leonard C. Hanna and
Henry S. Blossom lent larger sums while L.E. Holden, owner of the hotel,
provided sixteen hundred dollars. Initially these men formed a partnership with
Myers, and as a result, Myers opened the most up to-date, well-appointed
barbershop in the city. Like the hotel, the barber shop at the Hollenden attracted
many customers that had formerly frequented the Weddell House. Myers’
business grew dramatically and he quickly bought out his partners. By the end of
a year, almost all the borrowed funds had been repaid and Myers became the
sole owner. The wealth Myers earned from his establishment, which at its height
A Ghetto Takes Shape,123. Kusmer cites the senior thesis of Henry E. Siebert IV (at Princeton
University) titled: "George A. Myers: Ohio Negro Leader and Political Ally of Marcus A. Hanna"
for a greater awareness of the interracial relationship between these two powerful men.
303
235
employed thirty barbers, provided him the financial freedom to freely participate
in the political “game” that consumed his interests.304
Myers enjoyed politics not as a vocation but as an avocation. He was
never financially dependent on political patronage and that gave him an
enormous advantage over other African Americans who needed the political
patronage of powerful whites to insure their economic livelihood . Myers'
independent wealth was one reason that he was able to stand as a peer to many
of the most influential men in Cleveland. 305
With the friendship and tutelage of businessmen and politicians like
Newton D. Baker, Charles Dick, James Ford Rhodes and Mark Hanna, Myers
studied the intricacies of the political arena. He learned when it was appropriate
to act and how to be effective through suitable strategies. Myers referred to
himself as "an apt pupil [of Hanna] trusted with many confidences." Over time the
pupil became the associate and Myers was instrumental in advancing the
ambitions of all these men. The Reverend Reverdy C. Ransom acknowledged
Myers close association with Mark Hanna and President McKinley when he
wrote, "There be (sic) men in the nation who would give their thousands to stand
as close to Mr. Hanna and President McKinley as you have done in the past few
years…" Ransom knew that Myers could gain an audience with either man at any
304 A Ghetto Takes Shape, 123.; Myers and others referred to politics as "the game." See George A.
Myers to James Ford Rhodes, Feb 16, 1923 and March 15, 1921, GAM Papers; Also see: John A.
Garraty, The Barber and the Historian; The Correspondence of George A. Myers and James
Ford Rhodes, 1910- 1923. (Columbus: Ohio Historical Society, 1956), xvi-xvii; xxiii.
305 Garraty, The Barber and the Historian, xvi-xviii
236
time for any reason. Both men admired Myers for his unconditional friendship,
loyalty and his ability to successfully complete any task assigned.306
There is some circumstantial evidence, certainly more than a mere
suggestion, that Myers may have been responsible for the payment of a bribe
during the election of 1898 that helped insure the return of previously appointed
Senator Mark Hanna to the U.S. Senate. In 1917, Myers wrote to James Ford
Rhodes," Truth of the matter is …[I provided] 'very much needed services' … to
Uncle mark in the memorable campaign of 1897 & 1898, and without which
Uncle Mark could never have been elected as U.S. Senator." 307
If Myers did pay a bribe to secure Hanna's election, he considered his
actions defensible during the political climate of the late nineteenth century.
Bribery in the political sphere was acknowledged if not condoned. In an era when
political machines were an integral part of politics, only the most blatant of
actions were reasons for censure. Myers alluded to his actions many years after
George A. Myers to James Ford Rhodes, March 4, 1920, GAM Papers; Reverdy C. Ransom to
George A. Myers, January 19, 1898; GAM Papers. Newton D. Baker was a wealthy Cleveland
lawyer and businessman. He was a Democrat who served as mayor of that city from 1912-1915 and
as United States Secretary of War from 1916-1921. Charles W. F. Dick, a Republican who served
as Summit County Auditor, succeeded Mark Hanna as the United States Senator from Ohio
serving in that capacity from 1904 to 1911. He and Myers attended the 1896 Republican Party
Convention as delegates. James Ford Rhodes was the brother- in - law of Mark Hanna, but
Rhodes was a Democrat. With his father he built businesses in the iron, coal and steel industries.
In 1885, Rhodes retired and spent the rest of his life in Boston, Massachusetts writing histories.
He remained close personal friends with Myers for the rest of his life and there is extensive
communication documenting their friendship. Mark Hanna was a childhood friend of John D.
Rockefeller. married the sister of James Ford Rhodes and joined the Rhodes family business. He
retired from business and entered politics. He was the power behind the election of William
McKinley and McKinley appointed Hanna to served the remaining period of John Sherman's term
in the U.S. Senate when McKinley appointed Sherman to be Secretary of State.
307 George A. Myers to James Ford Rhodes, June 11, 1917 in Garraty, The Barber and the
Historian, 70.
306
237
most of the principles involved had died, yet he never publicly admitted to
engaging in questionable activities.308
George Myers would not have put his “neck on the line” for just any
candidate. His business was secure; he certainly would not participate in such an
action solely for political or financial gain. Instead, there seems to have been a
deep and abiding affection between these two men. Myers affirmed that mutual
affection when he said, " I enjoyed perhaps a closer unbroken personal and
confidential relation with Mr. Hanna, than was accorded to but few." Both Myers
and Hanna were ruthless businessmen who would stop at nothing to achieve a
desired goal; however, both were exceptionally cognizant of public perception
and social position. Myers always defended his status in Cleveland society and
expected others to treat him in a way that that position demanded. When
corresponding with close friends and associates of both races, he always
referred to them using appropriate titles. He rarely signed his letters with anything
other than his full name. Myers was in every sense of the word a proper Victorian
gentleman and conducted his public and private life accordingly.309
When William McKinley was inaugurated President, he selected Ohio senator John Sherman
to serve as Secretary of State. At that time, the Ohio legislature chose Mark Hanna to serve the
remainder of Sherman’s term as senator. Mark Hanna was consequently selected to complete
Sherman's term. By his own accounts Myers was responsible for Hanna's election as Senator. In
this letter to Rhodes Myers wrote," had I not rendered that loyal service, Mr. Croly would not
have had the opportunity to write such a readable book." Myers believed Croly's biorgraphy of
Hanna was highly romanticized. The individual Croly described bore little resemblance to the
ruthless man Myers knew. George A. Myers to James Ford Rhodes, October 15, 1912, GAM
Papers.
308
George A. Myers to James F. Rhodes, October 15, 1912 & February 16, 1923. GAM Papers. The
overwhelming majority of correspondence between people during the years covered by this
dissertation had both the correspondents and the recipients identified by first and last names.
309
238
As was commonly the case in the party politics of the era, individuals who
exercised outstanding effort in behalf of a candidate or the party were rewarded
with political plums. George Myers repeatedly refused political appointments from
the Republican Party stating that his business was more lucrative than a
government position. In correspondence with James Ford Rhodes, Myers
commented," I served Mr. Hanna because I loved him and the lure of the
game…Both Mr. Hanna as a friend and Mr. McKinley as President, repeatedly
offered and desired to take care of me politically, but …I declined." To Myers the
ability to wield personal influence was far more important in maintaining his
power base than any patronage position means might have been.310
During the month of October 1900, The [Cleveland] Plain Dealer published
a photo essay depicting some of the leading African Americans of the city.
Speaking of George A. Myers they wrote: “Myers is without a doubt the most
widely known colored man in Cleveland and probably the leading politician of his
race in Ohio. He is now and has been for many years a member of the
Republican State Committee. He is a tireless worker, shrewd diplomat and has
the reputation of being closer to Senator Hanna than most of the party’s leaders.”
The use of such language to describe an individual would have been an
accolade for any person involved in public life; but the fact that such lofty praise
was penned in a white newspaper of national stature in reference to a person of
The style of writing was far more formal than anything we see used in the present time. It was a
sign of respect to use full names and titles when addressing friends and even family members.
310 George A. Myers to James Ford Rhodes, February 16, 1923, GAM Papers.
239
color made the statements even more remarkable. Clearly Myers was a key
player in national politics and The Plain Dealer recognized the talents and
abilities of such an influential man. 311
In May 1906, Ralph Tyler an African American Republican party loyalist
and reporter for The Ohio State Journal, implored Myers to use his influence with
the U.S. Senator from Ohio, Charles Dick. At that time Tyler was seeking
appointment to the United States Consular Service. Senator Dick was personally
acquainted with Ralph Tyler, but Tyler knew that a recommendation from Myers
would bring weight to the recommendation. In his letter to Myers, Tyler urged him
to “keep the matter STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL” and to comply with the request
immediately. Clearly Tyler was leaving nothing to chance and was convinced that
all Myers had to do was say the word and the matter would be a fait accompli.312
Almost a year later in February 1907, Jere Brown requested Myers'
influence with Senator Dick when Brown applied for a civil service job transfer
from Washington D.C. back to Cleveland. This time the matter was more
complicated because Brown was requesting a transfer between agencies, not
simply a location change. Myers intervened for his friend strongly urging Senator
Dick to comply with the request. Apparently, Myers' tone was rather strident in his
request. Dick quoted Myers' letter in his reply saying, " As to Jere Brown's matter,
your inquiry asking " Is there no way left for you to look out for your friends here?'
The Plain Dealer, (Cleveland) ,October 14, 1900.
Ralph Tyler to G. Myers May 11, 1906, GAM papers. The Ohio State Journal was a Republican
newspaper run by white people in Columbus, Ohio
311
312
240
indicates a misconception on your part." Senator Dick patiently explained the
difficulties to Myers and reassured Myers that he (Dick) was doing all that was
possible to comply with Brown’s wishes. Dick commented: “When I am again in
Cleveland, as I expect to be shortly after adjournment, I shall no doubt see you
and can then explain more fully, but in the meantime …[you] and others can
depend upon it I will do whatever I can in accordance with your wishes…” After
several pleasantries, Dick concludes his letter saying: “With kind regards, even
though, you should occasionally express yourself in a somewhat critical tone
when there is no warrant in fact for your doing so, I remain, Very truly yours,
Charles Dick.” 313
Several days later, Myers replied to Senator Dick’s letter. He first thanked
Dick for the letter and the efforts he had and would make in the future on Brown’s
behalf. Following the cordialities Myers took a decidedly different tone. He wrote:
“… while I would not presume to take to task or criticize so great a person as a
United States Senator in his official capacity, especially Senator Dick of Ohio, I
do feel that I can write my friend, Hon. Chas. Dick of Ohio, in all frankness and
honesty of purpose and in the widest latitude possible that the true friendship
existing between us permits. In this, I know I am not mistaken …”314
Clearly, the tone of this letter is not what one would expect between a
political lackey and an influential politician. Myers addressed his friend, the
senator, as a political and social equal. There could have been no possibility of
313
314
Senator Charles Dick to George Myers, February 15, 1907. GAM Papers
George A. Myers to Senator Charles Dick, February 22, 1907. GAM Papers
241
paternalism in such a relationship. Any African American who believed that he
was in the debt of a white politician would have taken a decidedly different tack
when making any sort of political request, especially after the senator sent a
message gently chiding him for the insistence of his request. These were two
men on equal footing and who gently sparred with each other as people who are
secure in a relationship could. Any suggestion that race played a part in this
relationship would be in error. In all of the correspondence between these two
men there is no reference to the race of Myers or any indication that Dick saw
himself as more privileged than Myers. It was quite clear that Dick was well
aware that he served in office because the electorate placed him there. As a
United States Senator he was a servant of the people, sent to Washington to
represent his constituents. George Myers was certainly his friend, advisor, and a
constituent; not just any constituent, but one with considerable clout among
people in influential circles. These men had developed a friendship over many
years and interacted as equals.
Myers was not afraid to assert his political clout with local officials either.
During the autumn of 1908, members of Cleveland’s black elite were planning an
evening of entertainment for the nationally known African American vaudeville
performers Robert Cole and John Rosamund Johnson. The entertainers were
touring that season with their critically acclaimed stage production Red Moon.
Cole and Johnson were not traditional vaudeville performers. In 1900, both J.
Rosamond and his brother James Weldon Johnson united with Robert Cole to
242
form a theatrical company called “the best colored team of their kind in the
business.” J. Rosamond was a classically trained musician, both at the New
England Conservatory and in Europe, and some believe it was through the sheer
force of his personality that he was able to breach the color barrier that trapped
most talented black performers in the mire of minstrelsy. When part of a traveling
variety company, the stage acts of African American vaudeville performers were
often referred to as “coon acts.” By 1908, legendary performers and members of
the African American elite, Cole and Johnson, were no longer considered in that
category.315
During the first decade of the twentieth century when the initial effects of
systemic Jim Crow were beginning to infiltrate north, Myers and his associates
scarcely noticed their onset and they would never permit such influence to
permeate their social affairs. In an attempt to forestall any untoward attention
toward their upcoming activities from the local police, Myers penned a personal
letter to Cleveland’s chief of police Fred Kohler notifying him of the planned
activities "in the banquet room of Starlight's Café East 14th Street. This room is
over the restaurant and tailor shop and has no direct connection with the saloon."
Myers discussed the event planned in honor of Cole and Johnson with the Chief
of Police with the intention that the chief should make sure the police of that
district would make no efforts to interfere with his planned event. Myers wrote, "I
The Plain Dealer (Cleveland), September 27, 1908; September 29, 1908; quoted in
Sotiropoulos, Staging Race, Black Performers in Turn of the Century America. (Cambridge, Ma.;
Harvard University Press, 2006), 48; Rayford W. Logan and Michael R. Winston, ed. Dictionary
of American Negro Biography. (N.Y.: W.W. Norton & Company, 1982), 353-359.
315
243
am writing to ask your permission that we may have music during our
entertainment. Kindly favor me with an early reply that we might complete our
arrangements." The specific element of importance in Myers’ letter was the fact
that they desired music as part of the evening’s entertainment. It was specifically
with regard to the element of music at the affair that Myers wanted to be assured
there would be no intrusion.316
The following day, Myers received a reply from Kohler voicing some
skepticism about the nature of the facilities where the proposed event would be
held. Chief Kohler wrote the "banquet rooms at Starlight's Cafe sounds good and
looks good in print. Whether there is anything like that or not , I do not care to
take up at this time, as it is my desire to assist you in entertaining your friends."
Kohler knew who Boyd was and did not regard him with the same respect he was
forced to extend to Myers. While it is clear from the historical evidence that the
owner of the facility, Albert “Starlight” Boyd, was not a member of Myers’ social
circle and that Boyd was occasionally linked to activities that were considered
legally questionable, it is also probable that Myers was unable to quickly secure a
different location where a large group of African American men could host a
social event on short notice. In his correspondence, Myers clearly depicted the
nature of the chosen facility and its purpose. He informed Kohler that the
"banquet room" was in no way connected to Boyd’s saloon (a place that may
316 George A. Myers to Fred Kohler, September 28, 1908. GAM Papers, apparently there were
errors on the dates of the letters. The letter from Kohl to Myers was dated the day before the
original letter, however, Kohler said, "Yours of the 26th)
244
have had a dubious reputation) and was located on the lower floor of the same
building that housed the banquet room. 317
Kohler quickly agreed to abide by Myers’ request and promised that there
would be no interference from his department on that day. It is unclear whether it
was the location, Starlight Boyd’s facility, or the inclusion of musical
entertainment, which caused members of Cleveland’s black elite to feel some
concern. Although the specific purpose of Myers’ request regarding the inclusion
of music was left unsaid, no individual associated with the African American elite
would willingly participate in any social activity if that activity had the potential to
tarnish his reputation. It would have been for this concern that Myers felt
compelled to provide advance notice of the event to the chief of police. By 1917 it
was common knowledge that Boyd’s saloon was, at least occasionally, involved
in some sorts of illicit activities. However, in 1908 there was little debate about
the legitimacy of this specific occasion. As nationally known celebrities, Cole and
Johnson were members of the African American elite and they were entertained
at an event that included the best of Cleveland’s black society. 318
317 George A. Myers to Fred Kohler, September 28, 1908. GAM Papers. There were a variety of
facilities that Myers might have used to entertain Cole and Johnson. It could have been the
spreading of "Jim Crowism" or perhaps there simple were no other suitable facilities available for
the crowd Myers anticipated. George Myers and other Cleveland elites formed the Caterers' Club
in 1903 and that club had their own facility. In addition, Myers sometimes entertained at the
Hollenden Hotel. There is no explanation in his personal papers why he did not use one of those
locations to entertain Cole and Johnson.
318 Fred Kohler to George A. Myers, September 27, 1908, GAM Papers. Although Starlight Boyd
eventually became associated and involved with the Republican Party in Cleveland, he never
attained the same social stature or power that Myers exhibited. A decade after this event, Boyd’s
name had become synonymous with corruption and extralegal activities. A Ghetto Takes Shape,
146.
245
That this correspondence occurred at all is significant regarding the
influence and power Myers had within the city of Cleveland. Myers did not take
pains to make sure there was no possible breach of behavior among his guests
any more than a powerful white man would have taken such an action. He simply
preempted any possible actions that the white police might have taken. Any
interference by Cleveland's police could have made out of town celebrities the
center of what could have been an unfortunate incident. What makes the
correspondence between Myers and Kohler the most unusual is the letter Myers
sent to Kohler the day following the smoker that feted Cole and Johnson.
On October 2, Myers once again wrote to Kohler, this time in reply to
Kohler’s previous letter in which Kohler acknowledged Myers’ request in a
sneering manner. Using grandiloquent form, Myers profusely thanked Kohler for
his cooperation during the performers’ visit and then shifted to language the chief
would have instantly recognize as highly sarcastic. In his reply Myers said:
I first desire to thank you for your magnanimity in
granting us the favor to have music during our
entertainment for Cole and Johnson at the Banquet
Room at Starlight's Cafe and further to say that the
smoker was a success in every particular.
Again referring to your favor again I am constrained to
believe when the Bestest chief of the Bestest finest; in
the bestest governed city in the world makes use of
the expression "Banquet Room at Starlight's Cafe
sounds good and looks good in print and whether
there is any-thing of the kind in reality or not" that he
is indulging in a bit of levity to give me (personally) a
246
good time and I accept the invidious comparison as
such.319
The use of the word "bestest" was completely out of character for the
elegant, Victorian gentleman, George Myers. Nowhere else in decades of
correspondence did Myers speak or write in such a manner. Yet on that occasion
Myers’ letter to Kohler depicted Myers’ perception of the chief. Speaking to the
chief as if he were speaking to a young child or an intellectually challenged adult,
Myers calmly and clearly restated the intention of his initial correspondence.
Obviously Myers had not wished to antagonize Kohler prior to the planned
event; otherwise he would have immediately replied to the chief’s letter. But just
as clearly Myers resented Kohler’s insinuation that the affair was anything less
than a gentlemen’s event. By referring to Kohler as the “bestest chief,” Myers
indicated that he respected the office that Kohler held, but did not appreciate
what Kohler insinuated. Myers would have been incensed by any attempt to
degrade his status in the community. George A. Myers exemplified an image that
William E.B. DuBois made famous: “the talented tenth,” the upper crust of black
society. Myers was intelligent, self-educated, born into a family that was free
before the Civil War and part of a cohesive, well connected group of people who
socialized and married within their own community, just as we saw evident in
southern cities. Conversely, Starlight Boyd was representative of those who
formed an emerging group of self-made individuals who came to power in
northern cities during the Great Migration, The "New Negro". Boyd eventually
319
George A. Myers to Fred Kohler, October 2, 1908, GAM Papers.
247
acquired money, property and influence, but he was never accepted as a
member of elite Cleveland society. Myers may have scheduled an event in
Boyd’s facility but it is unlikely that Boyd would have been invited to the fete or
that Myers would socialized with a person of Boyd's reputation.320
Simply confronting Kohler with his thinly veiled anger was insufficient for
Myers. In addition to making his point known, Myers told Kohler that the same
meeting room had been used previously for an affair held by the Cleveland
Association of Colored Men and other men's organizations. At that time members
of The Association of Colored Men were only “our best and most representative
citizens.” To drive his point home, Myers informed Kohler that the next time they
scheduled a smoker, he would invite Kohler to be his personal guest at the affair
so that Kohler could “see and believe” for himself the nature of their society.
Finally, Myers insisted, “I could not afford by hint, innuendo or otherwise to make
any misrepresentations to you-- your confidence and esteem I prize and value
too highly -- my reputation as a law abiding citizen and a businessman would not
permit me to deceive you or any gentlemen, be he public servant or a private
citizen.” 321
320 George A. Myers to Fred Kohler, October 2, 1908. Albert "Starlight" Boyd was born during
Reconstruction on a plantation in Mississippi. He was the antithesis of the old, cultured, black
elite and he epitomized what it meant to be a member of the "New Negro." Like George A. Myers,
Boyd was a self made man and he became politically powerful in Cleveland (but not throughout
the state and certainly not nationally.) He was not a cultured, sophisticated, "Victorian"
gentleman. He was smart, wily, and successful. He assumed the role of political operative after
Myers "retired" from the "game" (as politics was called). There were few similarities between
these two men, and Myers resented being put into the same class or category as Boyd. For more
information on Albert Boyd see The Encyclopedia of Cleveland History entry for Boyd
http://ech.case.edu/ech-cgi/article.pl?id=BADS accessed July 26, 2012.
321 George A. Myers to Fred Kohler, October 2, 1908., GAM Papers.
248
With this final comment, George Myers made clear his social and political
superiority over Kohler. If Myers had been intimidated by the police chief he
would never have suggested that he would invite Kohler as his “personal guest”
to a social affair. If Kohler’s power in Cleveland exceeded Myers’, Kohler could
have used his authority in the capacity of police chief to simply appear at such an
event; to ascertain the nature of the proceedings; but that was not the case.
Kohler would have been well aware that had he or his men intruded on any affair
hosted by George A. Myers, without a highly demonstrable justification, a
complaint by Myers would have endangered his future career as Cleveland’s
chief of police. Additionally, Myers use of the phrase "would not permit me to
deceive you or any gentlemen, be he public servant or a private citizen" suggests
he did not believe Kohler was a gentleman. If he had included Kohler in the class
of men deemed gentlemen he would have said "you or any other gentleman".
Because he did not use such language, Myers articulated that he considered
himself to be of a higher social class than the police chief. Myers was probably
justified in his reasoning. Myers was able to request and receive an audience
with the President of the United States. Few American police chiefs would have
had similar access to the president.
George Myers used his considerable political influence to secure personal
favors for friends and associates. He also used his influence to lobby for
legislation that directly affected his livelihood. In March 1902, there was pending
legislation in the Ohio House of Representatives that, if passed, would regulate
249
the barbering trade. On this occasion, Myers lobbied strenuously against the bill
enlisting the help of Ralph Tyler, a close personal friend and writer for the (white)
Republican leaning newspaper, The Columbus [Ohio] Dispatch. When it seemed
conceivable that the bill might actually pass, Myers took no chances and
petitioned for assistance from his personal friend U. S. Senator Mark A. Hanna.
Using his considerable political capital, Hanna called in favors to obtain the votes
necessary to defeat the Barber Bill in 1902. There were repeated attempts at
similar legislation and Myers was continually involved in attempts to defeat such
bills as late as 1910. Although the Barber Bills were legislation at the state level
and Hanna was a United States Senator, as the head of a national political
machine Hanna was powerful enough to sway state politics at home. When
George Myers requested the senator’s help, Hanna swiftly took measures to
support a man who had served him and the party with virtually unquestioning
loyalty.322
Mark Hanna acknowledged the thanks Myers offered for his intervention in
state politics and then requested Myers' assistance in an Ohio district where the
Republican Party influence among African Americans was wavering. In his letter
322 Ralph Tyler to George A. Myers, March 19, 1902;. George A. Myers to T.E. Eubanks, February
8, 1910, GAM Papers; Dictionary of American Negro Biography, 564-5; A Ghetto Takes Shape,
132-134; 241-2. The issue that concerned Myers on this particular occasion and several other
occasions during that decade concerned regulation of the barber trade. Some legislators
continued to sponsor legislation that would require barbers to attend a training facility and then
apply for licensing. As the number of southern blacks began the migration north, resistance to
integration in the North intensified. All of the existing barber training schools were run by whites
and Myers feared there would be segregation in training and licensing. If that situation were to
occur, Myers as the owner of a facility that employed African American men, at times numbering
as many as thirty employees, would have his source of employees reduced or eliminated. To
prevent such an occurrence, Myers continually fought the attempts of the state to further regulate
the barber trade.
250
Hanna asks Myers to “look into the matter” but refrains from suggesting a course
of action. Hanna knew that he could trust Myers to analyze the problem and to
devise an appropriate course of action. Clearly there was no need for
micromanagement from Washington, D.C. Mark Hanna knew he could always
depend on George Myers when political matters were at stake.323
Myers was totally committed to the success of the Republican Party while
Hanna was alive. His desire to "play the game" waned after the assassination of
McKinley and the unexpected death of Hanna. Myers remained engaged and
interested throughout the remainder of his life but he no longer devoted his heart,
mind and soul to the cause. He also remained active working for worthy causes
for the remainder of his life, but decreased in his desire to be thoroughly
immersed in his later years. The one thing that remained constant was Myers'
lack of desire to participate in organizations such as the National Negro Business
League and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.324
Historian Willard B. Gatewood argued that Myers remained aloof from
organizations like the N.A.A.C.P. because "he was dependent on whites for his
political influence." Myers did not avoid the N.A.A.C.P. because he feared
antagonizing Hanna and others, nor did he fear losing his political power. He was
involved in many civic organizations and did not feel a need to become involved
Mark A. Hanna to George A. Myers, March 31, 1902, GAM Papers.
Booker T. Washington wrote two letters to George A. Myers in July 1901 asking him to speak at
the annual meeting of the National Negro Business League to be held the following month in
August. Myers did not reply to the first letter and there is no evidence in his correspondence that
he replied to the second either. Booker T. Washington to George A. Myers, July 6 and 25 , 1901,
GAM Papers.
323
324
251
with the N.A.A.C.P. He preferred to work within the channels he had already
established. He avoided organizations linked to all race leaders, preferring party
politics to race politics.325
Myers was certainly not the only prominent black Clevelander active in
civic causes and Republican Party politics at the turn of the twentieth century.
For many years he had a contemporary, and sometimes nemesis, in Harry C.
Smith, the editor and owner of the Cleveland race newspaper, The Gazette.
Despite being well acquainted with Mark Hanna, Smith was not in the political
trenches for the influential, millionaire businessman-politician and there was no
love lost between Smith and Hanna. 326
Although Smith was not part of the Hanna political machine, he was a
loyal Republican. Beginning with the election of 1892, Smith won three terms
representing Cuyahoga County in the Ohio House of Representatives. During
some of the years that Myers supported the Hanna political machine, Smith
instead chose to align with another Ohio Republican faction led by Joseph B.
Foraker, who served as governor of Ohio from 1886 to 1890. In 1896 when
McKinley was elected president, Foraker was elected to the United States
Senate and served in that capacity from 1897 to 1909.327
Aristocrats of Color, 325. Myers avoided the N.A.A.C.P. but he also avoided the National
Negro Business League (sponsored by B.T. Washington)
326 Reverdy C. Ransom to George A. Myers, Oct 28, 1896; Ralph Tyler to George A. Myers,
October 23, 1896, GAM Papers. A race newspaper was a black owned newspaper that reported
current events and other news stories that catered to the African American population. The
Gazette was one of the most successful race newspapers in America. It was owned and operated
by Harry C. Smith.
327 Ohio and Its People, 271.
325
252
As president, McKinley appointed Ohio senator John Sherman to be his
Secretary of State. At that time the Ohio legislature picked Mark Hanna to fill the
remainder of Sherman’s term. Although “Uncle Mark” [Hanna] had the dominant
personality, as senators both Hanna and Foraker commanded respect serving
the United States Senate. During the years that the two men served in the
Senate, both were effective conduits proclaiming Cleveland’s influence in the
nation’s capitol. With Mark Hanna in office, George Myers had nearly immediate
response to inquiries and requests. Harry C. Smith enjoyed significant, though
perhaps a bit less, notice because of his African American Republican weekly
newspaper, the Cleveland Gazette; a paper read by whites and blacks alike. The
power garnered by publishing a successful newspaper that endorsed Foraker,
gave Smith the willing ear of the grateful Foraker. However, according to
Reverdy C. Ransom, Hanna and Smith had temperaments and personalities that
allowed them little in the way of mutual sympathies. 328
With Foraker and Hanna serving in the Senate, both Myers and Smith had
voices in Washington and each man had different ideas of how best to serve his
race. Although both supported the Republican president, neither man supported
the policies of Booker T. Washington. Only Smith, however, was willing to
publicly oppose the position of the influential leader. Myers enjoyed a warm and
328Reverdy
C. Ransom to George A. Myers, Oct 28, 1896, GAM Papers. In his letter to Myers,
Ransom discusses Harry Smith's ability to self-promote using material published in Smith's
newspaper the [Cleveland] Gazette and also articles that appeared in the [Cleveland] Plain
Dealer. During the fall of 1896 Harry Smith was traveling in the southern states campaigning for
William McKinley. Harry Smith was not part of the Mark Hanna political machine. Instead he
was allied with a different wing of the Republican Party also operating in Ohio. Mark Hanna was
the campaign manager for William McKinley during the election of 1896.
253
personal friendship with Washington. When Washington came to Cleveland for
speaking engagements, he was usually a house guest at the Myers’ home.
Despite their friendship, Myers did not participate in any of Washington’s
organizations despite repeated pleas to do so. Philosophically, Myers was more
in harmony with William E.B. DuBois, although he shunned DuBois’
organizations as well. Later Walter White, who was also intimately involved with
the N.A.A.C.P. also stayed at Myers' home when he had the opportunity to visit
Cleveland. Despite shunning race organizations, Myers remained dedicated to
the Republican Party, his Masonic lodge and other local organizations like the
Caterers’ Club and the City Club.329
Although both Myers and Smith were ardent integrationists, their
temperaments and their methods were markedly different. Whereas Myers
epitomized every characteristic of the classic Victorian gentleman, Smith was
defiant, brash and demonstrative. Smith was never accepted into the social fold
of Cleveland’s black elite although on nearly every other level he was their equal.
With regard to education, intellect, and income there was no difference; however,
329 A Ghetto Takes Shape, 57; Booker T. Washington to George A. Myers, Dec 2, 1903, GAM
Papers. Kenneth Kusmer argues that Myers chose not to become involved in organized protest
against discrimination because he feared it would alienate powerful whites on whom he depended
to maintain the success of his business. Although that could be a logical assumption, it is more
likely that Myers believed he could accomplish more as an example of the success African
Americans could anticipate if they were resourceful, thrifty and good businessmen. Myers did not
echo Booker T. Washington’s agenda however; instead, he built mutually beneficial relationships
with other businessmen irrespective of race. By the middle of the 1890s, the strength and breadth
of Myers’ relationships with white people was such that he did not seem to hesitate to speak or act
in a deferential manner.
254
it was Smith’s vociferous and strident militancy (and perhaps his upbringing) that
kept him estranged for many years from Myers and his cadre. 330
Harry Smith was born in West Virginia in 1863 and moved to Cleveland
with his mother and sister soon after the end of the Civil War. Far less is known
about Smith’s background than other influential black Clevelanders. Although
Smith was very vocal in sharing his opinions about politics and society in general,
he kept his private life very private. Smith never married and had few, if any,
intimate friends. Writing in the preface to the Reverend Dr. William J. Simmons’
Men of Mark: Eminent, Progressive and Rising, Ernest Kaiser remarked that the
volume was “a much needed dictionary of Negro biography … [and] that nearly
all of those profiled came from slave parents or were slaves themselves.” Harry
Smith was featured in Men of Mark, but none of the members of Cleveland’s
black elite were profiled in Simmons’ work. In the course of his voluminous
writings, Harry Smith never discussed the circumstances of his birth. If Smith was
indeed born a slave, that fact alone would have been sufficient to place a wedge
between him and the other members of Cleveland’s black elite who prided
themselves on their heritage of freedom.331
330 Despite their personal differences, Myers and Smith joined forces to prevent the establishment
of any facility in Cleveland that was created for the specific use of only one race. Both opposed
Jane Edna Hunter's attempts to establish the Phillis Wheatley home for African American women
in Cleveland and the attempts to build a Y.M.C.A. dedicated to African Americans. See A Ghetto
Takes Shape, 124 for a discussion on opposition to race-based facilities in Cleveland.
331 In 1882 Harry C. Smith graduated from the interracial Central High School in Cleveland, Ohio.
The following year, he began the Cleveland Gazette with three partners while he was serving as
the director of the Central High School orchestra. Eventually he became the sole owner and
successfully operated the Gazette as a weekly newspaper serving the African American
community for the remainder of his life. For more on Smith see William J. Simmons, Men of
Mark: Eminent, Progressive and Rising. (Cleveland: Geo. M. Rewell & Co., Press of W.W.
255
Even if the others were unaware of Smith’s original status, perhaps Smith
placed a formidable barrier between himself and those around him. His service
as a member of the board of electors, a Deputy State Oil Inspector and a
member of the Ohio House of Representatives placed him in the company of the
politically powerful, but he was never welcome into their social circles. The
barriers between him and the rest of Cleveland’s black elite were every bit as
overwhelming as the barriers between blacks and whites in the overall
population. The relations were so contentious between Smith and members of
Cleveland’s black elite that in some cases, members of the black elite were
unwilling to work for his political advancement. In September 1899 when Harry
Smith was nominated to run again for the Ohio House, Jere Brown complained
that the “little big headed nigger is nominated. I shall not give him a modicum of
support and I do not care who knows it.” Brown's use of a racial epithet to
describe Smith was not routine in his correspondence, but neither was it
unprecedented. Members of the elite used such terms to refer to people they
considered ill-mannered and ill-behaved. It was evidence of the clear distinction
they placed between themselves and others they disdained. 332
Although Harry Smith had little social prominence, he was able to wield
significant political power because of the power of his pen. In an era when
African American newspapers began and failed with astounding rapidity, the
Williams, 1887; reprint, N.Y.: Arno Press and the New York Times, 1968), 194-8. Ernest Kaiser
served as a cataloguer for the Schomburg Collection New York Public Library.
332 Jere Brown to George Myers, Sept 14, 1899, GAM Papers.
256
weekly Cleveland Gazette was published continually for more than fifty years
from August 1883 until May 1945. The quality of writing and its ability to satisfy
the needs and wants of its readers made the Gazette and its editor a force to be
reckoned with, not only in Cleveland but throughout the nation. Especially during
the first decades of its operation, the paper republished articles from other black
newspapers. Likewise, African American newspapers in other cities reprinted
articles from the Gazette. Residents of Cleveland continued their subscriptions to
the paper by mail when they moved to other cities and it was common for people
in Cleveland to include clippings from the paper in letters to friends and family
throughout the country. In this way, the articles that Smith printed had influence
far beyond Cuyahoga County. His name was known far and wide within African
American circles but also among those in the white community who had the need
or desire to communicate with the African American people. Politicians were
forced to court Harry C. Smith if they needed the black vote to succeed in close
elections.333
For decades there was animosity between Myers and Smith; there
seemed to be no common ground. From time to time Smith would “roast” Myers
in print. There are numerous letters between Myers and others where they
complain about the bombastic behavior of Smith. Edward Cooper, president and
business manager of The Colored American (Washington, D.C.) informed
333 In 1897, there were only approximately 100 African American newspapers in the United States
according to a reporter with the Columbus Dispatch. Ralph Tyler to George Myers, GAM Papers,
Dec. 20, 1897. According to the Encyclopedia of Cleveland History, Harry Smith never missed a
weekly publication date during the years he owned and produced the paper 1883- 1945.
http://ech.case.edu/ech-cgi/article.pl?id=CG2
257
George Myers that there would be a series of articles in his newspaper featuring
“Prominent Colored Men in Ohio Politics.” Alluding to Harry Smith, Cooper
gleefully told Myers that “the fat boy in your own city [will] have a conhiption [sic]
fit.” Cooper’s purpose is partially personal and partially professional. Cooper
knew Smith would be upset that The Colored American featured an article
focusing on prominent black Ohio politicians. Ohio was Smith's territory and he
should have promoted prominent men in his own state. Being the first to write an
article featuring Ohio politicians pleased Cooper and he showed his delight when
he remarked, “H.C.S. hates me as Satan hates holy water.” 334
Cooper continued the letter saying that if he could acquire 200
subscriptions for his paper in Cleveland, people in Cleveland will “know that there
is at least one live paper published and that the Hub of the Universe does not
move around the [Gazette].” Cooper hoped to cut into the Cleveland newspaper
market by obtaining out of state subscribers. If he was able to threaten or
diminish Smith's success, so much the better.335
The Gazette was one of the most successful black newspapers in America
and circulated widely. As the owner and editor, Harry Smith's name was equated
with the Gazette. His caustic personality made him a target nationally. For
decades this type of criticism leveled at Smith, and by Smith, crisscrossed
between those of the elite and others who were more representative of the New
Charles Fillmore to George A. Myers, Sept. 10, 1896; Ralph Tyler to George A. Myers, Oct. 13
and Oct 29, 1896; Edward E. Cooper to George A. Myers, Nov 25, 1896, GAM Papers.
335 Edward E. Cooper to George A. Myers, Nov 25, 1896, GAM Papers.
334
258
Negro faction. When absolutely necessary they would temporarily put aside their
differences waging a temporary truce for racial solidarity, but for the most part
they stood apart focusing on their own interests and social circles.
On at least one occasion Smith and Myers showed their racial solidarity
when they put aside their differences to shame a local restaurant owner. George
Myers and John P. Green had free access to virtually any establishment in
Cleveland. Both men were well known and often were in the company of the
most influential white men of the city. Harry Smith was not as well known, nor
was he as influential. Using the public forum of his newspaper in 1891, Smith
railed at an unnamed restaurant in the city that refused him service because he
was a black man. Smith then made a second visit to the restaurant, this time
accompanied by Green and Myers. Following the second visit, an article in The
Gazette gleefully proclaimed: "he got his eyes open [and ] took it all back. Mr.
Smith made a second trip [with] the Hon. John P. Green and Mr. George A.
Myers. That's right; make the rascals toe the mark or face the legal music." Smith
was determined to make the proprietor of the restaurant honor his legal right to
equal accommodation in a public place. 336
In 1891, Harry Smith reasoned correctly that he had a right to equal
service in any place he chose based on the Fourteenth Amendment to the U.S.
Constitution, but clearly not everyone in the state agreed with that assessment.
In 1886, Jere Brown and the Reverend Benjamin Arnett were instrumental in
336
Cleveland Gazette, June 20, 1891.
259
crafting and passing an Accommodations Law in Ohio that guaranteed equal
rights for all without regard to race. In 1893, Harry Smith successfully ran on the
Republican ticket to serve in the Ohio House of Representatives. Almost
immediately he sponsored the Civil Rights Law of 1894 that guaranteed equal
accommodation for all people in all public buildings and businesses. This law
provided an additional measure of protection for people in Cleveland until the
onset of the Great Migration. Smith also sponsored an anti-lynching law in the
state. In the second decade of the twentieth century the African American
population of the city grew substantially larger. The increase in population size
changed the dynamics in Cleveland. At that time the average African American
was less educated and poorer and as a result, white business owners
successfully began to ignore the laws and their conduct was rarely challenged in
court.337
Clearly discrimination did occur in Cleveland and the occurrences became
more frequent over time. Frustrated African Americans, with the means to do so,
sometimes sued for damages and were occasionally successful. By the 1920s,
however, fewer African Americans bothered to test the system. The Great
Migration changed the attitudes of many whites in Cleveland. Although the
number of civil suits increased in the 1920s, the courts began to interpret the civil
rights laws more narrowly. Charles Chesnutt said what many African Americans
Angela Jones, African American Civil Rights: Early Activism and the Niagara Movement.
(Westport, CT: Praeger Publishing, 2011), 230. Negro Thought in America,71 & 32.
337
260
in Cleveland thought: "One does not care to have to bring a lawsuit or swear out
a warrant every time one wants a sandwich or a cup of coffee." 338
Eventually members of the African American elite began to organize their
lives to avoid contention or embarrassment. They continued to demonstrate
adherence to the Victorian standards of their day leading lives of carefully
measured behavior. In their minds their lives had paralleled and intersected their
white counterparts seamlessly before the stresses of the Great Migration brought
the issue of the color line to the forefront of white thought. Most elites hoped that
the foray of their city into segregation and exclusion would be temporary. They
urged uplift and education for the southern migrants and believed that in time the
transplants would absorb the polish and sophistication that was second nature to
urban members of the African American elite who had long been active in
politics.339
Although African American politicians began their cross racial
relationships in Cleveland soon after Reconstruction, African American
physicians got a slower start there. Robert Boyd Leach matriculated at the
Western Homeopathic College of Cleveland in 1856 and began a practice in
Cleveland after graduation. Dr. Leach soon had a large and flourishing practice in
Cleveland that included residents of all races. His patients appreciated his skill as
338 Chesnutt's quote comes from a newspaper clipping from the Cleveland Herald, September 11,
1926 quoted in A Ghetto Takes Shape, 180-81.
339 A Ghetto Takes Shape, 247.
261
a physician and he is credited with discovering a successful treatment for cholera
that physicians throughout the region used. 340
Although Dr. Leach was a successful physician, he was not a prominent
Clevelander. African Americans lived quietly in the city before the Civil War.
Slavery was not legal in Ohio, but freedom did not mean that blacks merited
equality. Despite the fact that Cleveland was a relatively tolerant city from a racial
perspective, and that African Americans had greater access to education and
cultural events in Cleveland than in many other cities in the United States.
Despite those advantages, few black doctors established practices there prior to
the onset of the twentieth century. There is no evidence demonstrating that
African American physicians played an influential role in any capacity in the city
before the second decade of the twentieth century. It was during that time that
documentation of the role of African American physicians, other than the
treatment of patients, begins to appear in the public record in Cleveland. 341
In 1910, Abraham Flexner published a report evaluating American
medical schools. Prior to that year there was no established criteria for
accreditation of medical schools. Many American medical schools were
substandard. Curriculums varied in length and quality. The Carnegie Foundation
Grabowski, http://ech.case.edu/ech-cgi/article.pl?id=LRB (accessed July 6, 2012). Creed F.
Ward "The Black Physician" in Kent L. Brown, ed. , Medicine in Cleveland and Cuyahoga County
1810-1976. (Cleveland, The Academy of Medicine of Cleveland, 1977), 71.
341 E.A. Dale and J.A. Greene to George A. Myers, June 3, 1915, GAM Papers. Letter regarding the
possibility for creation of a hospital in Cleveland to be staffed by African American physicians and
nurses. African American doctors were not permitted to care for their own patients in white
staffed hospitals. The black doctors wanted a hospital where all people could be admitted without
regard to race, but they also wanted a facility that allowed them unconditional access for training
and medical practice.
340
262
funded Flexner's study of medical schools. Following the release of the report,
substandard medical schools throughout America were forced to close. Many
racially segregated medical schools, serving primarily African Americans in the
South, became victims of the report. Howard University Medical School in
Washington, D.C. survived the accreditation war and continued to produce welltrained physicians.342
A number of accredited medical schools in the North admitted and
graduated qualified African American students, among them Western Reserve
University Medical School. Both the Cleveland Homeopathic Medical College and
Western Reserve admitted qualified African Americans to their courses of
studies. Charles Reasen graduated from Western Reserve Medical College in
1890 and C. Latrobe Mottley graduated from Western Homeopathic College in
1891. The number of African American medical students in Cleveland quickly
increased quickly with six enrolled at the Homeopathic College in 1893 and four
at Western Reserve in 1894. Some of the physicians produced by these
institutions stayed in Cleveland after graduation.343
Thomas J. Ward, Jr., Black Physicians in the Jim Crow South (Fayetteville; University of
Arkansas Press, 2003), 20-30.
343 Black Physicians in the Jim Crow South, 72-3. Western Reserve Medical College began in
1843. It accepted African Americans and women from its earliest years demonstrating the gender
and racial tolerance that stemmed from the liberal traditions of the Western Reserve heritage.
(Oberlin College was the first college in the nation to be both coeducational and interracial).
Western Reserve Medical College did not sacrifice its mission of academic excellence by including
women and African Americans. The famous Flexner Report ( which evaluated all recognized
medical schools in American and led to the closing of all deemed substandard) published in 1910,
commissioned by the Carnegie Foundation, determined that Western Reserve Medical School was
ranked second in the nation falling short only to Johns Hopkins Medical School in Baltimore. For
more information on the history of Case Western Reserve Medical School at
http://casemed.case.edu/about/history.cfm accessed July 26, 2012. Western Reserve College
342
263
Although some of these men chose to practice medicine in
Cleveland, they did not initially exert a strong public influence there. There is little
evidence of community power wielded by black doctors in Cleveland before the
beginning of the twentieth century. Perhaps suspecting that lack of influence (in
addition to limited access for training in Baltimore) were some reasons why
George Myers rejected his father's advice to become a doctor. Growing up during
Reconstruction, Myers strongly believed what Booker T. Washington would later
profess, that hard work and entrepreneurship were the keys to financial success.
In an era when many doctors' patients had little money, particularly African
American patients, a physician could expect an elevated level of social status
within the black community but not necessarily financial security to go along with
that status. 344
Financial security for physicians in Cleveland became a possibility
as the size of the black population grew. Dr. Benjamin H. Lawrence arrived in
Cleveland and established his medical practice in 1910. Dr. Ellis A. Dale also
practiced medicine in Cleveland in 1910. At that time there were only five African
American doctors in the entire city to serve an African American population of
nearly 8,500 residents. Clearly there were opportunities available for ambitious
physicians. In 1910, the Cleveland Public School system appointed Dr. E. A.
Dale as a district medical inspector. That position offered a salary of $1,200 a
also educated teachers, dentists and lawyers. Many African Americans prepared for careers there.
See A Ghetto Takes Shape, 63.
344 Untitled biographical sketch in the George A. Myers Papers
264
year, insuring a minimal level of financial security. Fifteen physicians were hired
to monitor the health for the entire public school system. Dr. Dale was highly
recommended for the position by a committee headed by George A. Myers who
represented The Cleveland Association of Colored Men, a group that was quickly
becoming one of the most influential organizations of black men in the city. Dale
thanked Myers profusely for his recommendation stating:
Your have put your standing in the community, your
faith and your good name over against my fidelity,
efficiency and deportment. You have staked those
things which money cannot buy. Realising (sic) this to
be true I shall try, so long as I am connected with this
office, to so order my ways that the confidence which
you have reposed in me shall not be abused; and that
your every hope shall be fulfilled; so that in the years
to come, instead of having to regret the step you have
taken, you will have every reason to be proud of the
interest you have manifested in me. 345
Dr. Dale's appointment represented the unique place that elite
African American men held in the city of Cleveland. He obtained his appointment
because of the considerable political influence exerted by George Myers and
Thomas Fleming. He served as a medical inspector for the public schools, all of
which were integrated; however, he was not allowed hospital privileges at any of
the Cleveland city hospitals. There was no legal segregation in Cleveland, but
the reality of the situation showed that by 1910 the city was gradually becoming
345E.A.
Dale to George A. Myers, March 30, 1910, GAM Papers. Members of that committee
included George A. Myers, Samuel E. Woods, H.T. Eubanks and City Councilman Thomas W.
Fleming. Fleming was part of the city's New Negroes; Myers represented the old elite. The
appointment of Dale was evidence of the power still exerted by influential African Americans in
Cleveland. Cleveland Journal, (Cleveland, OH.), April 2, 1910. African American physicians
could and did treat white patients. The majority of their patients were not wealthy people and for
that reason it was a challenge to earn an adequate income.
265
highly segregated in practice. No African American men had hospital privileges in
Cleveland until Dr. Charles Garvin was appointed to the staff of the privately
owned Lakeside Hospital in 1920.346
Although Dr. Dale had earned enough respect from the influential
people of both races to serve as a medical inspector, he did not have enough
influence to start a successful movement for a hospital to serve African
Americans. In 1915, Dale served as one of the leading proponents to build a
"hospital in the city of Cleveland for the care of the sick without regard to race,
color or religion but which institution shall be under the management and control
of negroes." Dale extended an invitation to George A. Myers to attend a planning
meeting for the purpose of informing citizens of the goals of those promoting the
institution. Dale did not want to have a black only hospital; he wanted a hospital
that would allow African Americans physicians and nurses hospital privileges. He
wanted a place where interns and nurses could be trained. He was more than
willing to allow white physicians privileges and white patients admittance. Despite
his best intentions, the movement to build a hospital with full interracial access
was a failure. 347
Dr. Charles H. Garvin arrived in Cleveland in 1916, but left
temporarily to serve in the United States Army during World War I. All three of
the doctors previously discussed were southern transplants to the North.
346 Russell H. Davis Memorable Negroes in Cleveland's Past ( Cleveland: Western Reserve
Historical Society, 1969), 56.
347 Black Physicians in the Jim Crow South, 72. E. A. Dale to George A. Myers, June 3 1915, GAM
Papers.
266
Lawrence was born in Georgia, Dale in Alabama and Garvin in Florida. None fit
the mold of the old African American elite, of the Victorian gentlemen that had
long been the mainstay of political power in Cleveland. These men all fit firmly
into the New Negro category. They were self-made men, but they did not enjoy
free access to all facilities in Cleveland the way that members of the old elite did.
348
Charles Garvin became the first African American commissioned as
a United States Army officer during World War I. "He served in France for 11
months as commanding officer of an ambulance company" and as a physician in
the 92nd division, a segregated unit. The commanding officer of the 92nd was
General Charles C. Ballou (white), but there were white and black officers
serving under him. Commenting on the capability of those officers, General
Ballou said, "It was my misfortune to be handicapped by many white officers who
were rabidly hostile to the idea of a colored officer and who … created much
trouble and discontent." Ballou realized the cohesiveness of his unit was
compromised by the lack of respect some white officers had toward black
officers. In a military setting, a successful outcome depends on the cooperation
of all members of a unit. Lacking that cooperation reduced the effectiveness of all
involved in the operations. It is a credit to the commanding general that he
348 African American population of Cleveland 1910 was 8,448; in 1920 it rose to 34, 451. see A
Ghetto Takes Shape, p. 10. from U.S. Census 1910 and 1920. Dr. Garvin graduated from Howard
University Medical School in 1915 and arrived in Cleveland in 1916.
267
recognized the reason for diminished success rather than simply blaming it on
the inclusion of black troops and officers. 349
Like many African Americans, Garvin's military and wartime
experience in France left him a changed man. African American soldiers were
more than willing to put their lives on the line for the nation they called home, but
they expected to be respected for that service upon their return. Black soldiers
were treated well in Europe, particularly in France. They faced far less
discrimination there than at home in America. Many were hailed as heroes.
Some believed that they had proven their manhood in war. After facing the wrath
of an enemy abroad, they would not revert to subservient behavior upon their
arrival back in the United States. The post-World War I era ushered in a period of
increased racism in American cities as fearful and prejudiced whites fought back
against declarations of equality and demands for civil rights by African American
men. Cleveland was no different. 350
In 1919, Dr. E. A. Bailey corresponded with George Myers
regarding their mutual interest in improving race relations and in particular the
idea of the potential for an African American hospital in Cleveland. Myers
believed that once segregation was condoned anywhere, it would set the pattern
for racial exclusion everywhere. The younger men saw Myers' ways as
Memorable Negroes, 56; Ward, Black Physicians in the Jim Crow South, 72. Encyclopedia
of Cleveland History, http://ech.case.edu/ech-cgi/article.pl?id=CN5 (accessed July 9, 2012);
General Charles C. Ballou quoted in Hine, African Americans, p. 342; Charles H. Epps, Jr., Davis
G. Johnson, Audrey L. Vaughan African American Medical Pioneers, (Baltimore: Williams and
Wilkins,1994), 33; 171.
350 A Ghetto Takes Shape, 250; Memorable Negroes, 56.
349
268
antiquated and ineffective. After Myers convinced Bailey of his reasoning, the
young doctor responded to Myers saying:
If this hospital question ever comes up to you again I
hope that you will continue to strike it just such a blow
as you emphasized to me the other day during our
conversation.
I am very glad that I talked with you the other day as I
had a chance to see you in quite a different light from
the way you have always been pictured to me, and
after having received this letter containing this self
explanatory cut proves to me beyond a doubt that you
have and are giving this question some serious
thought. I believe that the race has in you a true
champion of manhood rights and opportunities along
all lines.
You may always be assured that you have my
cooperation in this matter and for everything that
tends towards race advancement and progress. Again
I wish to thank you.351
Bailey's letter to Myers documents that the elder statesmen of the
African American community in Cleveland continued to serve as leaders and
mentors to those coming to maturity. Bailey did not marginalize Myers' advice or
concerns. Once Myers presented the evidence from his perspective as a long
time resident of the city, as one who had spent a lifetime trying to craft a balance
between the races, Bailey realized the wisdom in Myers advice. It also appears
that Bailey ultimately agreed with Myers' assessment. Finally, the letter affirmed
E. A. Bailey to George A. Myers, November 5, 1919, GAM Papers .Myers believed that members
of the black and white elite could negotiate to solve racial issues in the city. His Victorian manner
demanded civility and cooperation. Younger men did not see change occurring as rapidly as they
would have desired. Some, like Bailey, Dale and Garvin were activists and hoped to quickly
change the dynamics of the racial situation. For additional information on Myers' activism as an
integrationist see pages 231-249.
351
269
Myers to be the consummate politician long after he withdrew from active
participation in organized politics. Myers ability to identify a problem and to craft a
viable solution is what made him so invaluable as a man who was born to
straddle the color line.
George A. Myers was not an accomodationist; he was a realist. He
understood the issues of importance and he used all of his persuasive powers to
help others understand those issues as well. Myers was born in Baltimore, but by
1920 he had lived in Cleveland for more than forty years. He was a student of the
city's politics and its people. He understood the culture even as it continued to
evolve. Younger men like Dr. Bailey, Dr. Dale, and Dr. Garvin were all
transplants from southern cities. Cleveland was their adopted home, and they
had an important stake in developing its future, but they did not understand the
city the way that George Myers did. It is clear from their perspectives that their
thinking was infused with attitudes and behaviors learned in the South.
Bailey initially believed that an African American run hospital, much
like the one founded like Alonzo McClennan in Charleston, would address the
needs of both the physicians and patients. He may have been right inasmuch as
self-segregation would have alleviated some of the problem faced by physicians.
That was the strategy that had been employed effectively throughout the South
since the end of the Civil War. But in Cleveland, race relations were different.
Myers and other men of the old elite recognized the dangers that accompanied
the changes these southern transplants suggested. After talking to Myers, Bailey
270
recognized the dangers of self-segregation as well. If that pattern was
established in any one aspect of society it would expand into other areas as well.
Many of the southern transplants chose to relocate to Cleveland during the
nineteen-teens because Cleveland had the reputation for being one of the least
segregated cities in America. By introducing southern ways, migrants would
recreate their homeland instead of embracing the alternatives that made
Cleveland exceptional. Once he adjusted his thinking, Bailey applauded Myers
and others in his cohort for their service to members of the race writing:
I wish to again thank you and those who have been
associated with you who have fought so zealously all
these years in order to keep at least one place in
these United States fit for the people of our race in
which to live. In spite of all we can do it seems that
there are some who have left the South because it
was not a fit place in which to live [yet they] continue
to try and bring the same conditions here that they
have endeavored to leave behind.
Bailey knew that Cleveland was not as egalitarian as it once was, but it
was certainly a respite from the racial strife and exclusion that was pervasive in
the South. 352
By 1920, the members of the established African American elite had aged.
In that year John P. Green was seventy-five years old; Charles W. Chesnutt was
E. A. Bailey to George A. Myers, November 5, 1919, GAM Papers. Prior to the 1910s, African
American visitors to Cleveland commented on the feelings of acceptance and freedom they
experienced there. Members of the African American elite experienced little racism or
discrimination. It is likely that their sophisticated behavior, their demeanor and their expensive
clothing set them apart from the people of the lower classes. Because Cleveland had a large
European immigrant population, whites in Cleveland were accustomed to differentiating by social
class as well as race. Additionally, Jews, Irish and Eastern Europeans were also seen as racially
different. The higher class status of black elites elevated them above the recent immigrants.
352
271
sixty-two and George A. Myers was sixty-one. The era of their significant
influence had faded. The 1920s ushered in the era of the "New Negro" and with it
came the changing of the guard. Men like Green, Chesnutt and Myers were
practical idealists. They had long resisted all forms of institutionalized
segregation. They preferred to fight for inclusion rather than allowing the creation
of separate facilities designated for African Americans. They fought segregated
schools, beaches, hotels, and hospitals. When some African Americans
proposed a segregated Y.M.C.A. they fought that as well. Members of the old
elite preferred no facilities rather than segregated facilities. 353
Conversely, Charles Garvin was a realist. In 1920, he broke
Cleveland's medical color barrier and became the first African American
physician appointed to a staff position at Cleveland's Lakeside Hospital, a
teaching hospital associated with Western Reserve Medical School. As part of
his duties, Garvin served as an instructor in the area of clinical urology teaching
students of all races. Garvin correctly understood that his professional
performance and his personal demeanor would determine whether or not other
qualified black physicians would obtain similar privileges. In the performance of
his duties at Lakeside Hospital, Garvin had many opportunities to straddle the
color line. His professional colleagues were white physicians and administrators.
Patients admitted to the hospital were primarily white, but could be any person in
353
A Ghetto Takes Shape, 118; 124; 149.
272
need of care. Although Garvin had to negotiate racial protocol at work, he faced
an even larger challenge in his personal life. 354
Although Charles Garvin was a "New Negro", and not considered a
member of the traditional African American elite, in many ways he was both. He
realized that society was changing. By the 1920s, virtually all venues and
facilities in Cleveland were closed to most African Americans. However, he was a
physician and a prominent member of Cleveland's business community. He
personally had access to public space that most people did not. Garvin was on
the staff of a major city hospital. He was an instructor in an accredited medical
school in one of America's largest cities and he had the necessary funds to buy
or build the type of residence he desired. It was this type of logical thinking that
made Garvin believe he was entitled to live wherever he chose in the city. 355
In the autumn of 1925, workers began constructing a new house on
Wade Park Oval, in the affluent Cleveland suburb of Cleveland Heights. Dr.
Charles Garvin owned that house. It was one thing for Garvin to work in a
hospital with white doctors, white nurses and white patients. It was far different
when he decided that he could build a house for his family in a neighborhood
Black Physicians in the Jim Crow South, p. 76. Garvin was the first physician to be appointed
to a staff position in any hospital in Cleveland. Because Lakeside was a teaching hospital, and
Garvin was instructor of Urology, it was necessary that he have hospital access to instruct
students. Western Reserve College changed its name to Western Reserve University in 1882 when
it moved to its present location in urban Cleveland.
http://www.case.edu/stage/about/history.html accessed July 27, 2012
355 Charles H. Garvin's house was valued at $40,000 in the 1930 U.S. census. That was a costly
home for that time. Only one other home on Wade Park Oval was valued at that high a sum. All
the other homes were far less costly.
354
273
entirely populated by whites. Kusmer calls this event "the most serious example
of interracial conflict over housing" to occur in Cleveland.356
Decades earlier, George A. Myers and Charles W. Chesnutt
purchased houses in white neighborhoods and faced no reported opposition, but
that was a different era of Cleveland's history. Myers and Chesnutt were treated
far differently than younger African American men relocating to the city in the
nineteen-teens. Myers and Chesnutt did not fit neatly into a prescribed racial
category. They were local celebrities and moved in prominent circles. They could
go where they wished and act as they wished. They never forgot that they were
Victorian gentlemen. However, starting in the 1920s Cleveland, like many other
northern cities, had changed. African Americans were no longer welcome in
neighborhoods designated "white." 357
Dr. E.. A. Bailey also faced violent opposition in 1925 when he
bought a house in the Shaker Heights neighborhood of Cleveland. Both
physicians endured threats against their lives and their families. Both received
protection from local police officers after fires and bombs were used in an
attempt to force them from their homes. In reaction to the attacks on the home of
Dr. Garvin, well-known (white) Cleveland social worker and activist Russell
A Ghetto Takes Shape, 167.
The was no dejure residential segregation in Cleveland in 1925 when Drs. Bailey and Garvin
decided to move their families to the upscale suburbs of Cleveland. There was, however, de facto
segregation. According to Kusmer, "Few whites objected to blacks filling in the older area of
settlement on Central and Scovill avenues-- a phenomenon that had been taking place at slower
rate even before the Great Migration. But, when blacks began moving into all-white
neighborhoods, white resistance, now accompanied sometimes by intimidation and violence,
began to harden." A Ghetto Takes Shape, 165-67; See also Elizabeth M. Smith-Pryor Property
Rites: The Rhinelander Trial, Passing and the Protection of Whiteness (Chapel Hill: University
of North Carolina Press, 2009), 50-51.
356
357
274
Jelliffe ignored his personal safety, joining a contingency of concerned citizens
black and white, to help guard Garvin's home when an overtaxed police force
was called away for other emergencies. It is likely that the Jelliffe hoped his
behavior would serve as a model for racial equality and cooperation. It was a
lesson that Cleveland was not yet ready to learn. 358
Russell and his wife Rowena Jelliffe had embraced the lessons
they learned while students at Oberlin College. They had "great respect for what
Negroes could bring to their society…" and they were unafraid to straddle the
color line in support of their beliefs. The Jeliffes were involved in many
community based organizations such as the National Association for the
Advancement of Colored People, The Urban League and the Cleveland
Community Relations Board. The Baileys and the Garvins were their social
equals and probably their economic superiors. Charles Garvin eventually served
on the Board of Directors for Karamu House, a settlement house run by the
Jeliffe's in Cleveland .359
A Ghetto Takes Shape, 169. Russell Jeliffe, and his wife Rowena, were graduates of Oberlin
College and ran the Cleveland settlement facility, Karamu House. Karamu housed clubs, music
programs, theater arts and summer camps for children. The mission of Karamu "was to establish
a biracial community center that would 'bridge the factor of race…" A Ghetto Takes Shape, 215.
359 A Ghetto Takes Shape, 215. Grabowski, Encyclopedia of Cleveland History accessed at
http://ech.case.edu/ech-cgi/article.pl?id=JRW1 (July 25, 2012). It is ironic that Cleveland was a
model for racial tolerance while the African American population was small in the city. When
inclusion of African Americans posed no social or economic threat to whites, white Clevelanders
were tolerant of their presence. When large numbers of southern, uneducated, unskilled people
moved into the city, inclusion was harder to promote. Unskilled black workers competed with
unskilled white workers establishing a dynamic that mirrored those found in the regions where
slavery had been inherent to society. As the level of prejudice rose against unskilled African
Americans the discrimination transferred to middle and upper class blacks as well.
358
275
Ultimately, both the Bailey's and the Garvin's were able to outlast
their antagonists and were able to live peacefully in their new homes. Eventually
whites in the community grew tired of the prolonged series of attacks and reason
prevailed. The families of both Cleveland physicians were permitted to live in
security, although not with total social acceptance. No further violence was
imposed on either of them.360
Charles Garvin lived a long and productive life in his adopted city.
In addition to being a skilled doctor, teacher and activist for civil rights, Garvin
also found time to contribute to the medical literature of the time. He penned an
article "Negro Physicians and the Hospitals of Cleveland," that appeared in the
July- September 1930 issue of the Journal of the (Negro) National Medical
Association. In that essay he described the ongoing struggle of African American
physicians to gain access to staff positions in Cleveland hospitals. Despite
Garvin breaking the color barrier in Cleveland hospitals in 1920, a decade later
there were few black physicians with the right to practice in the local hospitals. By
1930 only six black doctors served on the staff of Lakeside Hospital. One of
Garvin's chief complaints was the lack of respect afforded to African American
physicians in Cleveland. He cited the physicians' attempts to gain greater access
to patients requiring hospitalization and the lack of inter-racial collegiality among
The family of Dr. Ossian Sweet in Detroit was not as lucky. Dr. Sweet was arrested for murder
as he attempted to defend his home from mob violence in Detroit, Michigan in 1925. For
additional information of the story of Ossian Sweet see Phyllis Vine, One Man's Castle: Clarence
Darrow in Defense of the American Dream (N.Y.: Amistad, 2005) and Kevin Boyle, Arc of
Justice: A Saga of Race, Civil Rights and Murder in the Jazz Age (N.Y.: Henry Holt and
Company, 2004).
360
276
the majority of physicians in the city. Certainly this problem was not unique in
Cleveland, nor was it unexpected. The gulf across the color line widened
dramatically in the years following the Great Migration. As the size of the black
population grew in the city, so did the racism leveled against African
Americans.361
Garvin leveled his criticism at prejudiced whites writing:
Parlor sanitarians and nordic (sic) propagandists are
inclined to point to the black health menace, but
except in isolated instances, little is done to alter the
conditions…thus among the many 'so-called
problems' arising out of Negro migration has been the
problem of providing suitable hospitalization, suitable
medical attention and suitable nursing care. 362
Garvin correctly believed that the spread of disease among Cleveland's
poor blacks was a result of crowded living conditions, lack of knowledge
regarding communicable diseases, and insufficient medical resources. In short,
the problems were not racial problems; rather, they were problems that stemmed
from poverty and lack of education.
Residents of Cleveland were ill-prepared to deal with the huge
influx of poor, unskilled, rural southerners who arrived in response to the
industrialization of Cleveland. When the black population of Cleveland was less
Black Physicians in the Jim Crow South, 76; Charles H. Garvin, "Negro Physicians and the
Hospitals of Cleveland." Journal of the National Medical Association, Volume 22, Issue 3 (JulySeptember 1930), 126. Charles Garvin was also a lifetime member of the NAACP. This was yet
another element that distinguished him from members of the original members of Cleveland's
original black elite. Most members of the earlier generation shunned the organization begun by
W.E.B. DuBois. The exception to that was Charles W. Chesnutt. Although Chesnutt was a personal
friend of Booker T. Washington, he publicly sided with DuBois' organization.
362 "Negro Physicians and the Hospitals of Cleveland," 124.
361
277
than one percent in the 1880s, most people of color went unnoticed by the
majority of the city's residents. By the end of the Great War, there were enough
blacks living in the city for problems associated with racism to become a major
issue.363
In 1927, Cleveland was still debating the issue of access to medical
and hospital care. By that time, members of the New Negro hierarchy in the city
favored establishment of a separate facility that would service the black
community. They wanted train black nurses, and allow African American
physicians to train and to practice there. Labeled The Mercy Hospital Campaign,
several African American physicians and the "New Negro" politician Thomas
Fleming began to raise the funds necessary to fulfill their dream. This program
created yet another fissure between members of the old elite and the new negro.
Although George A. Myers was no longer the powerbroker he had been decades
before, he was still a Cleveland institution and retained the respect and support
of politicians in the city. In 1928 George A. Myers and Harry Smith joined forces
to defeat the project they labeled a "Jim Crow Hospital." Myers wrote a series of
letters to William Hopkins, City Manager of Cleveland enclosing copies of
editorials that appeared in The Cleveland Call, The Cleveland Post, The
Cleveland Gazette, and The N.Y. Age via The Associated Press supporting his
position regarding the proposed hospital.364
A Ghetto Takes Shape, 157-167 passim.
George A. Myers to William Hopkins, February 6, 1928. GAM Papers; A Ghetto Takes Shape,
p. 266; Laura Tuennerman-Kaplan, Helping Others, Helping Ourselves: Power, Giving and
363
364
278
Hopkins replied in a "personal and confidential" letter to Myers writing:
I did not reply to your letters because I did not know
how to answer letters so unlike anything I should have
expected from you. Years ago you gave me my first
impression of Harry Smith as a constitutional
troublemaker of the most dangerous sort. I have
never had reason to dispute the correctness of that
judgment of yours; on the contrary he has continually
added proofs of its correctness. Yet you send me
copies of his editorials as if they deserve attention
and tell me that the colored people voted against the
hospital bonds out of hatred for Dudley Blossom
[Cleveland City Welfare Director]. And in your telling I
find no evidence of sorrow on your part in the face of
actions so stupidly ungrateful. Did anyone tell these
colored people that they needed these new hospitals
more than any other class of people …365
Hopkins tried to convince Myers that people without the financial
means to access private medical care placed the greatest burden on the publicly
funded facilities. Members of the New Negro leadership community welcomed
the idea that Cleveland would soon have better medical care and they supported
the idea of Mercy Hospital. They wanted facilities where African American interns
could train and where African American nurses could train. They had accepted
the reality that de facto segregation was in place in Cleveland and that they had
to work within the system to achieve any progress.
This was unacceptable to Myers. He understood that if Mercy
Hospital was built it would be perpetually under funded and inferior to the
facilities designated for white people. Myers resented the way that Dudley
Community Identity in Cleveland, Ohio, 1880-1930 (Kent, OH.: Kent State University Press,
2001), 115.
365 William R. Hopkins to George A. Myers, January 31, 1928, GAM Papers.
279
Blossom circumscribed the lives of blacks in Cleveland. Myers asserted that he
and others heard Blossom state unequivocally that "he would not open the City
Hospital for our girls to train as nurses or for Negro doctors to intern." 366
This was a dilemma beyond the capacity of either man to solve.
Hopkins did not appear to have the same inherent racism that Myers accused
Blossom of harboring, but Hopkins did appear paternalistic toward African
Americans in general. Despite that paternalistic behavior, he treated Myers with
respect and as a social and political equal. He referred to African Americans as
"your own people," but the manner in which he addressed Myers was one in
which equals debate a point of contention. Hopkins reminded Myers of his
writing:
You denounce the effort made by your own people to
have a hospital of their own, where they would have
the first right to service and training…You call all such
hospitals "Jim Crow Hospitals." Your English used to
be more accurate. If my understanding of the
meaning of that wretched term is correct, it has
always applied to places and facilities to which
colored people must go and to which white people
may not go. nobody has proposed such a hospital
here…
In the matter of arbitrary intolerance and the effort to
secure the advancement of your people through
threats of political reprisal and race hatreds you seem
to have gone over to Harry Smith bag and
baggage…[your people] cannot afford to draw the
color line when they are at best only a small minority
even in the communities where their populations are
the largest…[the] future progress of the colored
people like all of their progress hitherto must come
George A. Myers to William Hopkins, February 6, 1928. GAM Papers. City Hospital in
Cleveland was finally integrated in 1930. See A Ghetto Takes Shape, 273.
366
280
largely through the goodwill and active help of the
great masses of white folks who want to do the best
that can be done for them as fast as it can be done on
a permanent basis.367
Several issues must be discussed regarding the content of the
letter from Hopkins to Myers. First, and perhaps foremost, the tone of this letter
incensed George Myers. He fired back at Hopkins insisting that he had two
purposes in writing the letter: " 1st to serve my people and 2nd to serve a friend."
Myers told Hopkins that he endeavored to present both sides of the controversy
and to include his own position on the Mercy Hospital debate. Myers referenced
articles and editorials. Myers stated that "the ministers of our leading churches,
as well as many of the smaller, were and still are opposed to the movement for
any separate hospital (Jim Crow) or the opening of any mixed, or so called one,
until the present City Hospital is open to all nationalities alike, regardless of race,
color or creed." It is unquestionable that Myers was consistently opposed to any
form of segregation throughout his entire life. He would rather have no facilities
rather than segregated facilities. Although he was personally opposed to
segregation, he couched his writing in terms that were tailored to his reader. "I
am unilaterally opposed to any and all forms of segregation, in whole or in part,
when it comes to manhood or civic rights, and as we are taxed in common with
367
William R. Hopkins to George A. Myers, January 31, 1928, GAM Papers.
281
all other nationalities to maintain and support the City Hospital … we are justly
entitled to their every use and benefit." 368
If all the people in the city were taxed to insure services, then all people
were entitled to receive services. It was a simple argument. Hopkins tried to
persuade Myers that the new facility designated for African Americans was
necessary making the argument that "colored people furnished from four to five
times their quota of patients in the City Hospital and that the need for new
facilities is due to the exceptional pressure they were putting upon all our hospital
facilities…" Clearly, Hopkins was blaming the need for additional hospital
facilities on the increased number of people who were living in Cleveland, many
of them African American. He also inferred that blacks used the hospitals more
frequently than whites did.369
In response, Myers felt a need to remind Hopkins that although he and
Smith agreed on this particular issue, they were not cut of one cloth. Speaking of
Smith, Myers stated, "we have never trained together politically. He was a
Forakerite and I, like you, a Hannarite. The same conditions exist today." With
that remark, Myers reminded Hopkins that they had survived in the political
trenches together, they were political allies. It was still in their best interest to
George A. Myers to William Hopkins, February 6, 1928. GAM Papers. Although Myers
opposed segregated facilities for people of his race, as a member of the elite in Cleveland and also
by virtue of his wealth and recognized status, George Myers was not subjected to the injustice of
segregation in Cleveland. He could go anywhere he wanted and do what he chose. Unlike many
other people, Myers could go to any hospital, any hotel, any restaurant in the city because he was
George A. Myers. there is no evidence that he was discriminated against in Cleveland ( or
anywhere).
369 William R. Hopkins to George A. Myers, January 31, 1928, GAM Papers.
368
282
work together for the betterment of the city they both loved and called home.
Even though he and Smith were of the same race, the political alliance that
Myers and Hopkins shared was also important. Their interests were the same
before and there was no reason that their interests should not remain united.370
The second point of contention in Hopkins letter was Hopkins' comment
that advancement and opportunity for African Americans had occurred because
of the "goodwill and active help" of white people. It is unlikely that Myers would
have agreed with that statement. Myers believed that all progress was a result of
the constant strivings of the black elite and their efforts to prove to whites that
there were no differences between the races. Such an idea reaffirmed historian
Glenda Gilmore's premise that elite African American men ascribed to the
premise of a shared manhood; a notion of manhood based on a shared world
view and class status. The "best men" served as role models to which others
would aspire. Together the best men ( regardless of race) would order society in
a way that would benefit the masses.371
Although Myers and Hopkins had a shared political history (as Hanna
men), Myers took the argument one step further telling Hopkins that although
their political affiliation was important, when it came to racial discrimination he
would cast his lot with Smith. Myers felt it was important that "whenever any
By this Myers means that Harry Smith was a supporter of Senator Foraker and Myers and
Hopkins were allies of Senator Hanna and his political machine. This was said to emphasize to
Hopkins the close political ties and histories that Myers and Hopkins shared in the service of a
man they both revered decades earlier. George A. Myers to William Hopkins, February 6, 1928.
GAM Papers
371 Glenda Gilmore, Gender and Jim Crow: Women and the Politics of White Supremacy in
North Carolina 1896- 1920. (Durham: University of North Carolina Press, 1996), 76-79.
370
283
Negro was or is unjustly discriminated against or deprived of his manhood rights,
we [Myers and Smith] have always been, as all Negroes should be, as one in
their defense."372
Despite his lifetime of loyalty to the Republican Party, Myers valued
his loyalty to race even more. At this moment in his life he would not make his
choice based strictly on party politics. Myers' loyalty to his race lasted throughout
his life. After the death of Hanna and McKinley, the ties that bound him to the
Republican Party weakened. They were still important, but Myers would not allow
party loyalty to undo a lifetime of fighting segregation and discrimination.
The effort to build an interracial hospital remained an ongoing issue
in Cleveland. By the mid-1930s, the need for a hospital that would allow African
American physicians full access became apparent. The Forest City Hospital
Association became a reality in 1939 but Forest City Hospital was not built until
the 1950s.373
George A. Myers to William Hopkins, February 6, 1928. GAM Papers
For a discussion on the Forest City Hospital see: Vanessa Northington Gamble, Making a
Place for Ourselves: The Black Hospital Movement 1920- 1945. (N.Y.: Oxford University Press,
1995), chapter 5. This section depicting the influence of African American physicians in
Cleveland is noticeably shorter than those sections discussing physicians in the two southern
cities. Not only is it brief, but it is limited to the closing years of this dissertation. It is telling that
there were no African American physicians in Cleveland who asserted political power there during
the late 1800s. Initially, the African American population was small in Cleveland. When African
American doctors completed their medical training, they established practices in areas with black
populations large enough to allow them to earn a living. Most African American physicians
realized that the majority of their patients would be of their own race. Understanding that, before
1900 they looked to cities other than Cleveland to establish a practice.
The increase in the numbers of African American physicians in Cleveland coincided with the
Great Migration. Not coincidently, those years were also the years where those men designated as
being part of the New Negro class moved to a position of prominence displacing the influence of
the more traditional members of the African American elite in Cleveland.
Members of the New Negro cadre went on to forge different types of relationships with the
powerful white men in Cleveland. They did not straddle the color line in the ways their
372
373
284
Even though hospital facilities were lacking for African Americans in
Cleveland between 1880 and 1920, houses of worship were not. Men of the cloth
who served in Cleveland's houses of worship had tremendous opportunities to
work together across the color line. Cleveland was born as a homogenous
territorial extension of New England. By the first decades of the twentieth century
it had evolved into a city of Americans, immigrants from Europe, and black
migrants from the American South. Long-time residents watched as the city
transitioned into a multiracial, culturally diverse but religiously tolerant city.
Achieving a successful juxtaposition of races, cultures and religions required
enormous flexibility on the part of all residents. 374
Cleveland began as a city that boasted primarily Presbyterian and
Congregationalist Churches, reflecting the New England heritage of its residents.
A hundred years later, one of the fastest growing America cities was home to a
wide variety of faiths reflecting its multicultural composition. In 1807,
Presbyterians organized the first official religious congregation in Cleveland.
Black Clevelanders had a presence in the city from almost its earliest days
organizing the first African Methodist Episcopal Church, St. John's A.M.E.
Church, in 1830 when the entire population of Cleveland was just over one
predecessors had. A very few African American physicians in Cleveland had working
relationships with peers across the color line, but they were not highly influential in Cleveland
society. The one possible exception to this is Charles Garvin. He eventually served on the Board of
Directors for Karamu House and became the first African American trustee for the Cleveland
Public Library. All of Garvin's influence was well after the closing years of this study. In 1920,
Garvin was just beginning to gain recognition in the city of Cleveland. Encyclopedia of Cleveland
History, http://ech.case.edu/ech-cgi/article.pl?id=GCH (accessed August 5, 2012.
374 Michael J. McTighe "Babel and Babylon on the Cuyahoga: Religious Diversity in Cleveland" in
Birth of Modern Cleveland, 231- 269.
285
thousand people. The African Methodist Episcopal Churches grew slowly and did
not become a dominant force in the community until the Great Migration in the
second decade of the twentieth century.375
Half a century after the Presbyterians organized, Catholicism had
become the dominant religion in Cleveland. The vast number of European
immigrants who spread west sought opportunity in the emerging industries of the
region. Despite the growth and importance of the Catholic Church in Cleveland,
few African Americans were initially listed on the rolls of the local parishes. The
majority of Catholics in Cleveland were European immigrants lured to the city in
search of jobs during the great industrial boom of the late nineteenth and early
twentieth century. 376
In 1880, there was little overt racism in Cleveland's Catholic
churches. Black Catholics who lived in the city worshipped in their local,
neighborhood parish churches because there were so few black Catholics in the
city. White Catholics initially felt little need to exclude black Catholics because
their numbers were so few. The small population of black Catholics in the city
was also responsible for their lack of influence within the Catholic Church. When
immigrants arrived in Cleveland, whether from Europe or from the American
Encyclopedia of Cleveland History, http://ech.case.edu/ech-cgi/article.pl?id=P16 accessed
September 28, 2012; Kusmer, A Ghetto Takes Shape, 30 & 92. Historian George Knepper
referred to Ohio as "near a microcosm of America as one could find in the late Nineteenth
Century." Ohio and Its People, 80; 265.
376 Presbyterians built the church in what is today East Cleveland. Cleveland Timeline created by
Case Western Reserve University http://ech.cwru.edu/timeline.html accessed July 28, 2012. A
Ghetto Takes Shape, 92; John J. Grabowski, There Are No Strangers At the Feast: Catholicism
and Community in Northeastern Ohio (Cleveland: Western Reserve Historical Society, 2008), 11.
375
286
Deep South, they brought their culture and religion with them. Although there is
only one Roman Catholic faith, the cultural ways that faith was approached
varied from community to community. It was not until the 1920s, as a result of the
Great Migration, that there were enough African American Catholics in Cleveland
to warrant a parish devoted to their specific needs.
The Catholic Church established Cleveland's first African American
parish in 1922, Our Lady of the Blessed Sacrament. The establishment of a black
parish reflected the changing dynamic of race relations in Cleveland. In 1900,
there were slightly less than 6,000 African Americans in a city of nearly 400,000
people. However, by 1920 there were more than 34,000 African Americans in
Cleveland with the overall population nearing 800,000 people. The dynamics of
race relations in the 1920s showed that racism had become a driving force in the
once relatively egalitarian city. 377
Many of the immigrant blacks living in Cleveland migrated north
from the Deep South during the nineteen-teens, bringing with them foreign ways
of life. Their foreign ways, meaning the culture of the Deep South, were every bit
as alien to resident Clevelanders as the ways of those immigrants who arrived
from the shores of Europe. African American immigrants, like those from Europe,
eventually congregated together in ethnic neighborhoods reestablishing life as
There Are No Strangers At the Feast, 40. Population figures quoted in A Ghetto Takes Shape,
10 from the U.S. Census Reports 1850-1930. Our Lady of the Blessed Sacrament Church was build
on E. 79th Street just south of Central Avenue in Cleveland, Ohio. One black Cleveland resident
remarked in 1915, "We have no 'LITTLE AFRICA" in Cleveland…There is not a single street in this
city that is inhabited by nothing but Negroes." Robert I. Drake, "The Negro in Cleveland,"
Cleveland Advocate, September 18, 1915 quoted in A Ghetto Takes Shape, 42.
377
287
they knew it in their former homes. For poor immigrants, the establishment of a
home and securing employment took all their energy. Their objective was to
provide sustenance for their families. The majority did not have the time, money
or energy to pursue an interest in political power or influence. They left the
pursuit of such things to members of the elite. As a result, virtually no African
American political power or influence emerged from the black Catholics who lived
in Cleveland between 1880 and 1920.378
Elite African American Protestants had always worshipped in
churches throughout the city. Charles W. Chesnutt and his family attended the
predominantly white Emmanuel Episcopal Church and were welcomed there in
full fellowship. The services at Emmanuel were sedate and formal and Chesnutt's
daughter Helen described the people who worshipped there as "among
Cleveland's finest people." Certainly the opportunity for a black family to worship
with full equality in an elite white church was not afforded to all African Americans
living in Cleveland, but it does stand as an example of the interracial cooperation
that was possible, although rare in church, across the color line. The welcoming
of Chesnutt and his family at Emmanuel was evidence that class as a factor was
sometimes more important than race. Chesnutt and his family would have been
highly uncomfortable worshipping in a traditional African American church. The
VanTassel, 1996, 54-56; A Ghetto Takes Shape, 92; John J. Grabowski, There Are No
Strangers At the Feast: Catholicism and Community in Northeast Ohio. (Cleveland: Western
Reserve Historical Society, 2008.) p. 11. In 1910 there were 560,663 people living in Cleveland,
Ohio. Of that population, 8,448 were African American, 1.5% of the population. By 1920,
Cleveland's population had increased to nearly 797,000 people of whom 34,451 were African
American, 4.3% of the population. Dorothy Ann Blatnica "At the Altar of Their God:" African
American Catholics in Cleveland 1922- 1961. (New York: Garland Publishing, 1995) 15.
378
288
emotionalism of the service would not have been in harmony with the cerebral
Victorian lifestyle the family enjoyed. 379
So secure was the Chesnutt family in their fellowship at Emmanuel
Church, that when they purchased a new home after living in their previous home
for sixteen years, they bought the new home (in a white neighborhood) within
walking distance of Emmanuel Church. The Chesnutt family may have been the
only African American family attending the church, but there is no indication that
they were treated as anything other than complete equals. That does pose the
question of whether they were seen as any different than anyone else in the
congregation. Of course there was no outreach by the Emmanuel Episcopalian
Church to others in the African American community. For all intents and
purposes, the Chesnutt family lived just as any other (white) family in the
congregation.380
John P. Green, a cousin of Charles W. Chesnutt did not attend
Emmanuel Episcopal Church. In 1890, Green was one of the founding members
379 Helen M. Chesnutt, Charles W. Chesnutt: Pioneer of the Color Line (Chapel Hill: University of
North Carolina Press, 1952), p. 49. A Ghetto Takes Shape, p. 105 and 30. There were no
Episcopalian churches dedicated to African Americans in Cleveland when the Chesnutt family
arrived in the city. Helen Chesnutt recalled that church was not simply attending services on
Sunday morning, but an entire community experience. Charles' wife Susan was part of the
women's organization and the children participated in Sunday school and other activities. The
services at the Episcopalian Church were formal in nature and would not have had the
emotionalism found in traditionally African American churches. Historian Kenneth Kusmer wrote
that St .John's A.M.E. Church catered to mostly lower class blacks in its early years. People who
attended services there initially did so because they felt "our of place attending the staid services
of the integrated congregations." The Chesnutt family likely would have felt out of place in
services at St. Johns. Churches in Cleveland were not segregated prior to the Great Migration. It
is unlikely that that worshipper would have been turned away from entering a church or
participating in a service. Chesnutt inferred that his was the only African American family at
Emmanuel Church and other members of the elite generally attended primarily African American
churches.
380 Charles W. Chesnutt, p. 184
289
of a new church, St. Andrew's Episcopal Church, a congregation formed to cater
to elite blacks in Cleveland. When referring to St. Andrew's Episcopal Church,
Kenneth Kusmer described it as a "smaller and more or a 'social' church than"
Mt. Zion Congregational Church. Kusmer also wrote that "Mt. Zion was larger,
less snobbish, and more inclusive in its membership." By the era of the Great
Migration, Mt. Zion had become so "inclusive" that even members of the "New
Negro" society, such as attorney and city councilman Thomas Fleming could
boast membership in that congregation. For some members of the black elite, the
atmosphere at Mt. Zion had too much camaraderie and was too inclusive to
members of the African American community. Although they recognized the need
for racial cooperation across class lines within the black community in the early
twentieth century, some members of the elite did not believe that cooperation
should have to extend to the more private social events of their religious
congregation. Members of the African American elite jealously guarded access to
their private social sphere. 381
For many years membership in some church congregations was as
exclusive as membership in some social organizations. By inferring that St.
Andrews Church had an aura of exclusiveness, Historian Kenneth Kusmer
reminds the reader that elite society was simply that. Many people began to
believe that they could spend most of their time cloistered in the womb of people
381
A Ghetto Takes Shape, 94; 144-45.
290
of their own social sphere and ignore those who did not live lives that mirrored
their own. 382
As mentioned above, the first African Methodist Episcopal Church
in Cleveland has a history almost as old as the city itself, being established only
thirty-four years after the first white European Americans surveyed the region. By
the end of the nineteenth century St. John A.M.E. Church was part of the social
and religious fabric of the African American community. George A. Myers
attended and was an integral part of the St. John's congregation. It was there at
St. John's that Myers became closely associated with the Reverend Reverdy C.
Ransom.383
A.M.E. Bishop Daniel A. Payne appointed Ransom to pastor at St.
John's in 1893 and he served there until 1896. It was during that brief tenure in
Cleveland that Ransom became enmeshed in Republican Party politics. As a
minister of one of the most influential African American churches in the city,
Ransom associated with members of the black elite. In Cleveland, several
members of the black elite had close relationships with Mark Hanna and that
brought Ransom into the active political fold.384
A Ghetto Takes Shape, 94; 144-45.
Annetta L. Gomez-Jefferson The Sage of Tawawa: Reverdy Cassius Ransom, 1861- 1959
(Kent: Kent State University Press, 2002), p. 38. George A. Myers grew up in a family that
worshipped in the African Methodist Episcopal tradition in Baltimore. His father, Isaac Myers
was very involved as a layman in the affairs of the African Methodist Episcopal Church in
Baltimore.
384 The Sage of Tawawa, p. 39; Calvin S. Morris, Reverdy C. Ransom: Black advocate of the
Social Gospel (Lanham: MD.: University Press of America, 1990), 104.
382
383
291
Ransom was an advocate of the concept of a religious philosophy
known as "The Social Gospel." The Social Gospel was an early 20th century
innovation that was exemplified by the ways the black church incorporated
religion into every facet of African American life. Church was not simply a place
to pray on Sunday morning. It incorporated all forms of uplift into a religious
framework. Thus the church became the center for spiritual awakening, moral
training, daycare and early childhood education, as well as social and literary
societies. Women served in leadership positions governing women's and
children's affairs. Using these tools, Ransom quickly expanded the size of the
already large congregation he served. These years were also on the cusp of the
migration of southerners to the great industrial north. Ransom took advantage of
all the potential opportunities to increase membership in an already large
congregation.385
During his years in Cleveland, Ransom became an advocate for the
Republican Party. He was clearly influenced by the aura of Cleveland's black
elite and the intense charisma exerted by Mark Hanna's political machine. Myers
always referred to political activity "as playing the game." By reaching out to
colleagues in other cities, Myers incorporated the Reverend into the wellestablished political fold. In the case of Ransom, the political influence he
exerted, particularly in his earlier years, occurred from his interaction with Myers
and his associates. In 1896, the bishopric of the A.M.E. Church transferred
385
Reverdy C. Ransom, 104; The Sage of Tawawa, 43-47.
292
Reverdy Ransom to a new congregation in Chicago. As one of the Republican
African American political leaders of Cleveland, George A. Myers contacted his
Republican counterpart, Samuel Thompson, in Chicago recommending Ransom
for inclusion in the local political scene. Thompson wrote Myers commenting that
he "called on Rev. Ransom and found him very agreeable [saying] I shall try to
cultivate this friendship."386
Later in his life, Ransom no longer maintained exclusive party
loyalty. After he left Cleveland, during his reassignment to Chicago, Ransom
examined the Republican Party more critically. He urged members of his
congregation and blacks throughout the region to carefully research those
running for office and to vote based on the candidates proven record. Eventually
"Ransom concluded that the G.O.P. had betrayed the loyalty and trust of black
people and no longer deserved their support." In the election of 1912, Ransom
supported Woodrow Wilson. Like other African Americans who believed Wilson's
rhetoric, Ransom became quickly disillusioned with the racist policies of the
twenty-eighth president of the United States.387
It is important to recognize the existence of Cleveland's African
American churches, but it is also important to note that unlike churches in the
South, Cleveland churches were not the nexus of black leadership and politics.
African Americans participated freely in the political process in Cleveland without
the influence of religious institutions. They voted, they campaigned, and they ran
386
387
Sam Thompson to George A. Myers, December 10, 1896, GAM Papers.
Reverdy C. Ransom, 147; 152.
293
for office. Before the Great Migration in Cleveland, race did not restrict
participation in political activities. Whereas in the South, churches and
benevolent societies had initially been the training ground for ambitious elite
men, the political arena was available to satisfy those needs for black residents
of the North.
Predominantly white churches in Cleveland were not deeply
involved in politics either. Dr. Charles F. Thwing was representative of white
clergy in Cleveland even though he served as president of Western Reserve
University rather than as a pastor of a church. Thwing was an ordained minister
of the Congregational Church. In 1903, The editors of the Cleveland Journal
published Dr. Thwing's remarks that demonstrated his philosophy on the issue of
race. He spoke at a convention of the American Missionary Association in
Cleveland. Because these remarks were made more than a decade before the
Great Migration, many white people in Cleveland were still generally tolerant
regarding the issue of race.388
It is apparent from his remarks that Dr. Thwing did not believe in complete
equality of the races. He made his perspective perfectly clear; however, he did
believe in the unlimited potential capacity of the individual. Those views were
also clear when he said:
In 1898 publican of a magazine titled Success began in Philadelphia. In 1902, the magazine
sponsored a contest asking readers to provide a list of fifty of the greatest living Americans. Two
of the men listed in the category "educators" were Booker T. Washington (black) and Charles F.
Thwing (white). In 1903, the America Missionary Association held its annual convention in
Cleveland ,Ohio. Dr. Thwing delivered an address at the convention on "the race problem." The
November 14, 1903 edition of the Cleveland Journal published some of Dr. Thwing's remarks
from that address.
388
294
The question is not whether the Negro race is more or
less civilized than the Anglo-Saxon. The Negro race is
less civilized than the Anglo-Saxon; but that is not of
present concern. The question is not whether certain
individual black men are superior or inferior to certain
white men. The question is not whether the best white
men are better than the best black men, or whether
the worst black men are worse than the worst white
men. The question is not whether the Negro shall
belong to the subject class. The question is not
whether the Negro shall live in America; for he is here
to live. He refuses to emigrate; he declines to die.
The question is whether the Negro shall be regarded
as a man. The question is whether he belongs to the
human race. If he be a man, all rights which belong to
a man should be given to him; if he be a man, all
duties which belong to a man should be given to him
to do. If he be a man…all men are created free and
equal and have a right to life, liberty, and the pursuit
of happiness. If he be a man, the question goes back
to Mount Sinai--to the ten commandments. If he be a
man, the question belongs to the Four Gospels-- and
to the great commandment--"Thou shalt love thy
neighbor as thyself."
Therefore the question is not of the south, not of the
north. It is a question of humanity, of the perfectibility
of man…Therefore the question is of and for the race,
but it is also a question of and for the individual…he is
to make himself the finest type of the man …he is to
be the best; he is to do the best. Such is a duty; such
a privilege belongs to the Negro as a man… 389
As president of a university that admitted and graduated qualified African
Americans, Charles Thwing knew that for an individual, race was not a limiting
factor. He recognized that the progress of African Americans had been limited
due to racism and the institutionalized effects of slavery. Speaking to a religious
389
Cleveland Journal, November 14, 1903.
295
organization and employing his training as a minister, Thwing framed his remarks
using the common language of the Bible. He carefully crafted his message in a
way so that no one in the audience would misconstrue the meaning. It would be
difficult for religious people to fail to recognize the theme of common humanity of
man. They would certainly understand the message: "Thou shalt love thy
neighbor as thyself." Thwing hammered home his message. As Christians, God
expected Christians to disregard any feelings they might harbor toward a race as
a whole. If a person called himself a Christian, he had a Christian duty to
recognize the common humanity of others. A Christian had a duty that
transcended race. 390
The question arises, based on a close reading of this speech, whether
Thwing's manner toward African Americans was paternalistic or egalitarian. It is
apparent by his remarks regarding race in general that he believed in white
superiority, but he also implied that racial inferiority was not inevitable. He was
speaking to an assembly that valued education in all forms. The American
Missionary Association had religious education as its central cause, but they
endorsed and labored for universal education. Despite their mission to make
education accessible, administrators at the American Missionary Association
were unapologetically paternalistic. They had the best interests of those they
served at heart and it is likely that Thwing did as well. But he did have personal
relationships with members of Cleveland's black elite and valued those
390
Gospel of Mark 12:31; Gospel of Matthew 22:39 KJV
296
friendships as personal relationships with individual men. George A. Myers was a
close person friend of Dr. Thwing. Writing to a friend about his relationship with
Thwing Myers said, "Our mutual friend Prexy Thwing of Western Reserve, after
30 yrs or more of good services, has seen fit to tender his resignation. Many
regret to see him leave (I among them)…Thwing and I are and have been warm
friends for years." In Thwing's case, if he behaved in a paternalistic manner at all,
he was paternalistic toward groups of people, not toward friends. When
friendships were formed, they developed between individual people.391
Paternalism, and the sometimes accompanying racism, within religious
groups was an ongoing problem, even as late as the 1890s. The Cleveland
Gazette published an editorial questioning the relevance of that paternalism so
many years after emancipation.
The intelligent Afro-Americans in the Methodist
Episcopal Church are demanding that one of their
number be made a bishop. They base their demand
on the Afro-American membership of 200,000. As
usual, there are a number of "eminent (white)
Christian brothers" in the church who are anything but
pleased with the demand. This, because the AfroAmerican bishop would be called upon to preside
over conferences in which were white ministers and
be associated more or less with eh other bishops
(white), when in council, etc. In plain words, they
object to the superior association which the elevation
of an Afro-American to the bishopric of the M.E.
church will make necessary. And they call themselves
391 Thwing was personal friends with George A. Myers, Charles W. Chesnutt and Charles Garvin C.
Thwing to George A. Myers, November 5, 1909, GAM Papers. Thwing personally participated in
the guarding of Garvin's home in 1925. (see pages 48-49 above); Thwing to George A. Myers,
November 24, 1915, GAM Papers; Thwing to Myers, March 12 and 15, 1917; George A. Myers to
James Ford Rhodes, July 26, 1921 GAM Papers
297
Christians. If they reach Heaven, what are they going
to do then?392
It is likely that the above article was written by Harry Smith, editor of the
Gazette. Stylistically, the language usage is comparable with other pieces he
wrote. Smith was far more militant in his language and far more strident in his
approach than members of the African American elite. He did not share their
background or Victorian culture. He was unapologetic in his public criticism and
condemnation of those whom he believed were limiting race progress. Smith was
not satisfied that Benjamin Arnett was elected to the office of Bishop in the
African Methodist Episcopal Church in 1888, four years before this article was
penned. The A.M.E. Church was an African American institution. Smith abhorred
all forms of segregation, even self-imposed segregation. He believed that if
separatism was condoned in any capacity, it would lead to institutionalized
segregation throughout society. Smith would have been pleased if Arnett was
elected bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church, but he did not condone the
separate African Methodist Episcopal organization. 393
Bishop Benjamin W. Arnett did not live in Cleveland or have a permanent
assignment to the A.M.E. Church there; however, he was intimately involved in
the religious and political life of the city. He lived in Columbus, Toledo and
Cincinnati and also served in Ohio state government representing the Republican
Party ticket. Arnett was elected to political office in 1885 serving as a member of
Cleveland Gazette, January 23, 1892.
For more information on Benjamin Arnett see: Michael Pierce, "Benjamin Arnett and the Color
Line in Gilded Age Ohio" in Warren Van Tine and Michael Pierce, Builders of Ohio: A
Biographical History. (Columbus, Ohio State University Press, 2003), 178-191.
392
393
298
the Ohio House of Representatives from an overwhelmingly white district in
Green County. 394
Bishop Benjamin Arnett was content to be part of the African Methodist
Episcopal Church. He was not born into the black elite, but he was born free in
the North in 1838. Arnett, who ultimately made his home base at Wilberforce
University in Wilberforce, Ohio, became a master at straddling the color line in
many capacities. He was an educator, a minister, a politician, an elected official,
and an activist. "Those who knew Arnett characterized him as a man driven by
ambition." Because he was not a member of the black elite, and not part of the
inner circle of that group, there was considerable animosity toward him and the
power he exerted for many reasons. George Myers was used to wielding the
power in Cleveland. He was Senator Mark Hanna's most trusted confident in the
city and perhaps the state. Ralph Tyler was concerned that the Myers faction
was losing influence to those who revolved in the orbit around Arnett. Tyler
voiced his fears to Myers saying:
It appears that the President [McKinley] and Senator
Hanna are under such lasting obligations to Bishop
Arnett, man woman and child, has been taken car of
can the rest of us hope for recognition. This is the
straw that breaks the camel's back. Every colored
man here on the ground is hot over it. To be plain, I
am damn sick of the whole business, and I now throw
up my hands and quit …If Bishop Arnett is to run the
394"Benjamin Arnett and the Color Line in Gilded Age Ohio," 178-191. Arnett's political activity
put him in close contact with George A. Myers and the rest of Cleveland's black elite. Arnett was
also deeply involved with the Hanna political machine. For this reason he was included as a
member of the social and political luminaries of Cleveland. For more on Benjamin Arnett see the
section on politicians at the beginning of this chapter.
299
whole damn business, why let him do it--but not with
our assistance.
Young Arnett (Bishop Arnett's son), the debaucher of
girls, appointed to the position of Chaplain; a long list
of deserving colored men, whose name happens not
to be Arnett, ignored completely---Oh I am sick of the
whole damn business.395
The tone of Tyler's letter makes Tyler's frustration clear. Tyler believed
Arnett was not only usurping privileges Myer's had earned, but was abusing the
trust McKinley and Hanna had placed in him. Arnett was practicing nepotism in
securing privilege for his son. In Tyler's estimation, the fact that Arnett's son was
"a debaucher of girls" and was abusing the position he was granted was an
abomination. Correspondence between Tyler and Myers several months later
indicated that Arnett's son had been relieved of his position as a military chaplain.
Tyler had returned to the political fold; and Tyler asked Myers to use his influence
to recommend a suitable (African American) replacement for Arnett's son.396
Tyler's regained faith in the system when Reverend Arnett's son was
dismissed. He firmly believed that if men of the African American elite lived by
the ethics and standards that qualified them as elites they would continue to
stand with white men of similar status. They were united by a common bond of
Victorian manhood and that bond transcended race. Because society expected
religious men to maintain higher standards than their non-religious peers, Tyler
395 "Benjamin Arnett and the Color Line," 179. Ralph W. Tyler to George A. Myers, June 22, 1898,
GAM Papers
396 Ralph Tyler to George A. Myers, October 5, 1898, GAM Papers.
300
was correct in his expectation that young Arnett's behavior deserved rebuke. A
scandal caused by one prominent person could spread the taint of scandal to
that person's associates. At the same time, exemplary behavior could elevate an
entire cohort.
Calvin S. Morris argued in his study of Reverend Reverdy C. Ransom, that
"black clergymen [were] the undisputed leaders of the late nineteenth and early
twentieth century black community." Morris is correct in asserting that African
American clergymen were influential community leaders, but in Cleveland they
were not the driving force in shaping the black community. Members of the clergy
counseled their parishioners. They provided social services and secular
education. They nurtured the spiritual needs of the community, and sometimes
fought for the civil rights of their parishioners, but most were not politically
powerful.
In Cleveland, Ohio, between 1880 and 1920, physicians and members of
the clergy were far less significant than men who engaged in the game of
electoral politics. African American political leaders in Cleveland exerted far more
influence to affect change than either physicians or members of the clergy.
Perhaps one reason why politics was the undisputed realm of power in Cleveland
was the significant political influence Ohio had nationally during these decades.
Five Ohio Republicans served as president of Ohio from 1880 to 1920. Beginning
with Rutherford B. Hayes, who was president in 1880 and ending with Taft,
301
elected in 1908, there was enormous opportunity for ambitious, elite, African
American men affiliated with the Republican Party. 397
Members of Cleveland's African American elite community saw
themselves as "Best Men." Historian Glenda Gilmore argued that "the Best Man
was not real but a theoretical device that worked to limit democracy by invoking
the language of merit." In the logic of that image, all men were not created equal;
some men deserved more power and influence because of their inherent worth.
This was a very real concept to men of Cleveland's African American elite. They
believed democracy was far too important to put in the hands of ordinary people.
It was the duty of educated, moral, competent men to order society in such a way
that it best served the needs of all the people. Members of the African American
elite believed they epitomized that model and they were the equal of any white
men participating in the political arena. Some powerful white men agreed. 398
Members of the best white men were willing to share political power in
Cleveland, Ohio during the decades before the Great Migration. That sense of
equality across the color line began to fade when Cleveland and other northern
cities were infused with waves of uneducated southern migrants early in the
twentieth century. Members of the original African American elite grew old; they
were replaced by younger men representing the New Negro image. In Cleveland,
mutually beneficial cooperation between members of the elite across the color
397 Calvin S. Morris, Reverdy C. Ransom: Black advocate of the Social Gospel (Lanham: MD.:
University Press of America, 1990), 2.
398 Gender and Jim Crow, 62.
302
line gave way to wary compromise by two camps each hoping to maximize their
agenda while relinquishing as little as possible to their colleagues across the
color line.
From the 1930s to the 1960s there was minimal cooperation and little
progress made in bridging the gap between blacks and whites. African
Americans would not make significant gains in their quest to reclaim political
power until the modern civil rights movement of the 1960s and 1970s.
Conclusion
Following Reconstruction and well into the era of Jim Crow, Charleston,
South Carolina, was a city of contradictions. Certainly, the racial lines were
hardening despite the valiant efforts of an educated, talented, cosmopolitan black
elite that had been in place for over a hundred years. Some individuals managed
to flourish and succeed while the majority of the population was crushed beneath
the domination of the legacy of the former Confederacy. Prior to the Civil War,
Charleston was one the most prosperous and most vibrant cities in the South.
The devastation of war, followed by the earthquake of 1886 were too much to
overcome. Charleston never regained her former glory. Without the free labor of
the enslaved, the city had little hope of significant rebirth.
Politically, the black elite in Charleston were not effective players on the
national scene during the twentieth century. Perhaps it was a lack of dynamic
members of the South Carolina Republican Party that caused the demise or that
virulent racism was more intense and extreme there than in either New Orleans
or Cleveland. South Carolina's Republican Party was gradually but steadily
disfranchised and ultimately wielded too little power on the national stage to be
considered a political threat to the revitalized Democratic Party. In Charleston,
only a few members of the black elite were able to secure the remaining crumbs
of political patronage. Those appointments were secured through the skillful
politicking of Booker T. Washington and other members of the black elite
303
304
including George A. Myers and Walter Cohen. Following Washington's death in
1915, there was not enough interest and not enough other people influential
enough to champion the cause of South Carolinians in the nation's capital.
Perhaps if Charleston as a city had been able to wield more power, there would
have been more politicians at the national level willing to make an effort to
sustain power in that city; however, powerful Democrats crushed Republican
political power in South Carolina. Patronage appointments became a casualty of
the demise of the Republican Party and virtually all opportunities were lost.399
African American elite physicians in Charleston maintained an active
presence in the city, but their accomplishments were muted over time. Dr. Alonzo
McClennan was perhaps most effective in rising above the color barrier. He
announced publicly that he and his staff had cared for the family of a lynched
postmaster. At the time he did not know if his actions would jeopardize his family,
his career or even his life. Had he not possessed adequate support and
affiliations across the color line, it was unlikely that he would have been so
forthcoming about his actions.400
The Jenkins Orphanage still exists but was later moved to North
Charleston. None of Charleston's black elite, with the exception of perhaps
Robert Smalls and William D. Crum, are remembered today except perhaps by
See Charleston! Charleston! Chapter 5, section 4 "Redemption and the Charleston Style," 301322; Black Carolinians, 196; 265. Powers writes convincingly regarding the out-migration of
many members of the ambitious black elite. He refers to a 1915 edition of the Charleston News
and Courier that suggested there was "no longer room for blacks in America" and the only
solution was deportation.
400 For more information on Alonzo McClennan see chapter 2, 90- 107.
399
305
historians who look for clues in the past. Based on the historical and geographic
importance of Charleston and the fact that it was a slave society from its
inception, there should have been a greater legacy from its African American
elite during the post-Reconstruction era. 401
Of the three cities included in this study it could be argued that Charleston
had the smallest impact on black progress from 1880-1920. The city that once
showed potential for racial equality and harmony became a wasteland of
unfulfilled dreams for members of the African American elite. Try as they might
members of the black elite were unable to achieve their goal of a post-racial
world in twentieth century Charleston. Their places were not assumed by a
younger generation of black leaders. We do not see the transfer of power from
the old guard to the New Negroes as we do in Cleveland. The city of Charleston
never regained the power it exerted nationally in the antebellum era and the
power of the black elite withered along with the city. Although South Carolina
became a lost cause, the legacy of Republican activism appeared to remain
functional longer in New Orleans than it did in Charleston.
Compared to Charleston, New Orleans exhibited a wealth of possibilities
following the Civil War. Perhaps it was because of its greater racial and religious
diversity that New Orleans provided more opportunities for more people over a
longer period of time. Historian Justin A. Nystrom wrote, "Critics miss the point
when distracted by the presence of Catholicism or Creole culture or when they
401
See pages 58-64 and 107-108 for William D. Crum and pages 47- 53 for Robert Smalls.
306
suggest that, as the regions largest city, New Orleans was anomalous in the
overwhelmingly rural South." Nystrom also wrote: that "New Orleans is an
excellent location for a study of the postbellum South because it contained so
many of the elements that made the region tumultuous." Nystrom was correct in
describing the region as tumultuous. Certainly, New Orleans was unique in its
history, but it was not at all representative of other southern cities or the
surrounding rural areas. It was an entity all its own. The culture that existed in
New Orleans existed nowhere else in America. The conclusions drawn based
upon life there cannot be used to explain any other American city during the postReconstruction era. New Orleans was spared the worst devastation of the Civil
War. Its multicultural society evolved in ways unseen elsewhere in America.
Republican power evoked cooperation across the color line in New Orleans,
much more like that in northern cities. New Orleans was far more Catholic than
other southern cities and the majority of priests where white. That prompted
cooperation across the color line for religious purposes. New Orleans was
inherently bilingual and that divided residents along ethnic boundaries in addition
to race and class. For all of these reasons, New Orleans cannot be considered
representative.402
There were ample and unique opportunities for people of all
cultures to straddle the color line in New Orleans. Intercultural experiences were
New Orleans was recaptured by Union forces early in the Civil War and therefore was spared
much of the devastation suffered by other important Confederate cities. For more on New
Orleans' multicultural heritage see chapter 2, pages 119- 125. Justin A. Nystrom, New Orleans
After the Civil War: Race Politics and a New Birth of Freedom. (Baltimore: John Hopkins
University Press, 2010), 3.
402
307
more the norm than single culture communities. The variety of races, religions,
and social classes that existed in New Orleans from 1880 to 1920 provided a
multifaceted environment that could have been used as a laboratory for plans to
reform much of the nation. Like any other sizable American city, the vast majority
of people living there were poor and struggled to survive in a changing world.
The elite individuals discussed all had abilities, opportunities and ambitions that
far exceeded the majority of people in the region. Many were talented enough to
succeed regardless of race or class. They rose above circumstances that
thwarted the plans of most. The elites shaped the environment in which they
lived. Regardless of race, these men not only straddled the color line, but they
bent it in ways that suited their purposes. African American elites who lived in
New Orleans were unwilling to allow race to be the defining element in their lives
as they worked hard to improve their world. The whites who cooperated with the
black elites saw opportunities for growth and success that others ignored. Blacks
and white, English-speaking and Francophones cooperated for the improvement
of all. Because definitions of race and class were so complicated in New Orleans,
there were many opportunities to maintain status and power despite the
hardening of racial rules for the majority of society.
Speaking of New Orleans, historian John W. Blassingame
remarked that "In New Orleans, as perhaps no other American city, there were
many cracks in the color line. Negroes frequently interacted on terms of perfect
equality with whites in public institutions and in social relations." The state that
308
boasted the first African American governor in America could have been the
example of a racial success story for the rest of America. Black and white men
united by family ties and a desire to move their state into the future had unlimited
opportunities but they failed to capitalize on them. 403
The "New Negro" class in New Orleans did not fill the gap that we
saw filled in Cleveland. The nadir in New Orleans came earlier there than in
Cleveland but later than Charleston. Despite the best efforts of Archbishop
Janssens, the Catholic Church took its first steps toward segregation during the
last decade of the nineteenth century. At first the segregation was voluntary, but
ultimately New Orleans succumbed to Jim Crow regulations in the city's
churches. The promises of Reconstruction would wait until the middle of the
Twentieth Century to become a permanent reality in the Big Easy. 404
As might be expected when comparing Cleveland to New Orleans
and Charleston, the northern city had a dramatically different experience
regarding the color line. When the African American population there was small,
Cleveland's black elites experienced either no racism or minimal racism. The
level of racism increased proportionately to the size of the black population in the
city. It is highly likely that some poor blacks in Cleveland experienced dramatic
episodes of racism, but poor immigrants from all over the world experienced
similar mistrust and abuse in Cleveland. Affluent and professional blacks were
generally treated with respect. Well-educated African American gentlemen
403
404
Black New Orleans, 210.
For a discussion on self-segregation in the Catholic Church in New Orleans, see pages 192-197.
309
appeared to have almost unlimited opportunities in Cleveland. John P. Green
seemed to live almost a charmed life in his adopted city. He was afforded the
opportunity to gain an education, he ran successfully several times for elective
office and was friends with some of the wealthiest men in the city. George A.
Myers also seemed to move effortlessly between the black and white worlds and
appeared to be welcomed equally in both. He forged an unprecedented social
and professional network across the color line. His extraordinary success was
not limited to Cleveland. Myers' network extended from the Great Lakes to the
Gulf of Mexico and from Washington, D.C. to the Mississippi River. He credited
his political and financial success to hard work and smart alliances. He was a
stalwart member of the Republican Party for many years, but never depended on
politics for his livelihood. His economic independence allowed him the flexibility
to be dependent on no one. Myers and other members of the black elite
maintained a strong presence in Cleveland until their deaths. By 1930, there was
only one man left from the original cohort of black elites of the postReconstruction era, John P. Green, who continued to work as an attorney in his
adopted city until his death.405
Politicians were clearly the most powerful members of the black
elite in Cleveland. Physicians and members of the clergy were far less influential
in this northern city than they were in the South and emerged as a cohort much
George A. Myers died in 1930 on the day he retired from ownership of his barbershop in the
legendary Hollenden Hotel. He was 70 years old. John P. Green lived in Cleveland until his death
in 1940 resulting from a motor vehicle accident. He was 95 years old at his death
405
310
later. Cleveland was an industrial powerhouse from 1880 to 1920. Business was
what drove the city. Because there were few African Americans living there
before the beginning of the twentieth century, there was far less need for African
American ministers and physicians to serve the black public. Elite blacks had
very little trouble obtaining services from their white colleagues. There was little
need for physicians and ministers to use their occupations as a platform for
social acceptance in society in Cleveland. As a result, successful businessmen
forged the interracial networks that launched them into politics and political
influence. It was not until the cadre of African American elites died off that there
was a need for a new paradigm in Cleveland.406
The 1930s ushered in the era of the New Negro in Cleveland and
the racial climate became markedly different. This was the advent of the true
nadir in the city. It began in the 1920s, and by 1930 there was no doubt that
racial egalitarianism for members of the elite was a thing of the past in Cleveland.
Formal segregation of the races was the rule rather than the exception. Like the
two southern cities studied, Cleveland elites had lost their ability to rise above
race politics. The younger men who represented the New Negro image did not
have the same social and political influence in the city. They were influential
within the black community, but they could not command the same respect or
privilege that members of the old elite did. They did not share the same Victorian
standards or lifestyle as the previous generation. Their lives did not mirror the
George A. Myers died in 1930, Charles Chesnutt died in 1932, Ralph Tyler died in 1921, Jere
Brown in 1913.
406
311
powerful whites who dominated the city. The dynamics of this new era of race
relations took hold and remained firmly entrenched until the onset of the modern
civil rights movement in the 1960s.
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