October 16, 1859: John Brown’s Raid on Harpers’ Ferry


On the evening of October 16, 1859, the radical abolitionist John Brown and a band of like-minded co-conspirators quietly slipped into the sleepy Virginia town of Harpers’ Ferry. Nestled between the confluence of the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers, Harper’s Ferry was home to a U.S. armory and rifle works. Their plan was simple, seize the federal arsenal and use the weapons to foment a slave insurrection throughout the South that would destroy the institution of slavery once and for all. Although Brown and his men would ultimately fail in their mission, the raid would send shockwaves throughout the country, and drive it down an almost irrecoverable path towards certain civil war.

John Brown in 1859

A Nation on the Brink

The United States in the decade before the Civil War was a country fraying apart at the seams. It was an increasingly polarized nation bitterly divided over the issue of slavery, which permeated all political discourse and debate. The Founding Fathers largely sidestepped the issue of slavery at the Constitutional Convention in order to create a document acceptable to all. However, in doing so they left a number of questions unanswered, most importantly the extension of slavery.  In a number of compromises designed to placate slaveholders, the Constitution implicitly endorsed the institution of slavery where it already existed, but it said nothing about whether slavery would or would not be allowed in any new territories or states that might enter the union subsequently. As the nation steadily expanded its frontiers in the first half of the 19th century, that question alone tore the nation asunder, especially because with the admission of each slave or non-slave state the existing balance of power between pro-slavery and anti-slavery forces shifted. As such, American politics became a constant struggle between pro-slavery and anti-Slavery forces for political power and what side would gain the upper hand. The tension inside the country was summed up succinctly by the New York Tribune publisher, Horace Greeley, in 1854, “”We are not one people. We are two peoples. We are a people for Freedom and a people for Slavery. Between the two, conflict is inevitable.”

The 1850s were a particularly tumultuous decade that only served to sharpen the dividing lines between those who supported slavery and its unlimited expansion and those who did not. For the opponents of slavery, the decade was a series of setbacks that only served to increase their anger. In 1850, Congress adopted a controversial Fugitive Slave Law as part of a larger compromise to admit California to the union as a free state. This new law drew the scorn of many northerners because it forcibly compelled all citizens to assist in the capture and return of runaway slaves. In 1854, the Kansas-Nebraska Act was passed allowing people in the territories of Kansas and Nebraska to decide for themselves whether or not to allow slavery within their borders, effectively invalidating the 1820 Missouri Compromise, which precluded the admission of any new slave states north of Missouri’s southern border. The act would touch off a bloody guerilla war in Kansas between pro and anti-slavery forces while infuriating many northerners who considered the Missouri Compromise to be a binding agreement. Three years later the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in its infamous Dred Scott decision, that the Federal Government had no authority to restrict the institution of slavery.  All of these developments only served to convince the more radical anti-Slavery elements that the Federal Government was under the thrall of “slave power,” a cabal of wealthy Southern slaveholders who wielded disproportionate influence in Washington and that more deliberate and decisive action would be needed to end slavery. 

For all the angst that permeated the abolitionists and the anti-slavery forces about the disproportionate influence that the South wielded over the Federal government, pro-slavery elements were equally uneasy about their standing. The slave holding states continued to view Northern abolitionists as a persistent threat to their prosperity and way of life. They clearly understood that if slavery did not continue to expand they would soon find their political power and their ability to defend their interests eroded with the admission of each new free state to the union. Southerners enthusiastically supported the annexation of Texas in 1845 and most favored war with Mexico a year later as a means to acquire more territory to create additional slave states, despite opposition from anti-slavery forces in the north. At the same time, increasingly aggressive agitation by Northern abolitionists stoked ever present fears in the South of violent slave insurrections. For many in the South, memories of Nat Turner’s 1831 slave revolt in southern Virginia in which Turner and his accomplices killed 55 white men, women, and children were still fresh.

The Making of an Anti-Slavery Crusader

It is against this backdrop of a sharply divided nation, that John Brown would enshrine his place in American history as a key figure in the struggle against slavery and the road to disunion. Brown was a complicated man, part patriarch, zealot, warrior, terrorist and visionary all rolled into one. Gaunt and haggard in appearance, and with a flowing white beard, Brown cut the image of an American Moses who would lead the slaves out of bondage. Driven by a fervent belief that slavery was immoral and an abomination, Brown saw himself as an “instrument of God’s will” in the war against slavery and dedicated himself to eradicating it by any means necessary.

Brown’s abolitionist identity formed at an early age but it would evolve in a more radical direction as the nation’s sectional divide over slavery intensified. Born in 1800 in Connecticut, he grew up in a deeply religious Calvinist family with overtly strong anti-slavery views.  In 1805, Brown’s family relocated to Hudson, Ohio a key stop on the Underground Railroad where he and his father, Owen, became more directly involved in efforts to bring the slaves to freedom. At the age of 12, Brown had his first real encounter with the evils of slavery, witnessing the beating of an African-American boy, who was about his age. Brown recalled that the boy was “badly clothed, poorly fed, and beaten before his eyes.” Outraged at what he had seen, Brown swore “eternal war with slavery.” However, it was until the passage of the Fugitive Slave Law in 1850 and the Kansas-Nebraska Act in 1854 that Brown would make a name for himself within abolitionist circles.

Terror of the Kansas Prairie

Even though Brown continued to make a name for himself within abolitionist circles, it was not until 1856 when the territory of Kansas became a battleground between pro and anti-slavery forces that he became a figure of national significance. Like many others at the time, Brown was outraged by the passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act, which he saw as nothing more than a betrayal of the Missouri Compromise and a craven capitulation to the slaveholding caste by the highest levels of government. In 1855, Brown’s sons—John, Jr, Jason, Frederick, Owen, and Salmon—immigrated to Kansas in search of new economic opportunities and to advance the free-soil cause. Brown struggled with the decision of whether or not to follow his sons to Kansas. At 55, he was an older man and as the patriarch of such a large family, he was also responsible to provide for the welfare of his wife and his younger children. He also was still committed to making the North Elba settlement a success. Nonetheless he could not shake the sense that Kansas would become ground zero in the struggle against slavery. In the end Brown, chose not to follow sons, opting instead to focus his energy on the North Elba project. However, it was also clear that he harbored no objections to their move declaring, “If you or any of my family are disposed to go to Kansas or Nebraska, with a view to help defeat Satan and his legions in that direction, I have not a word to say; but I feel committed to operate in another area of the field.”

Yet as Kansas descended deeper into violence and chaos, Brown could not resist the gravitational pull of the fight. By early spring 1855, the situation was becoming increasingly volatile as hundreds and thousands of well-armed, pro-slavery, “Border Ruffians” crossed over from Missouri on the eve of legislative elections seeking to intimidate Kansas’ anti-slavery settlers, known as Jayhawkers, and to cast fraudulent ballots to impose a pro-slavery state government.  In May, Brown received an urgent letter from his son, John Jr., asking for more guns, ammunition, and money to counter the growing threat. “Every slaveholding state is furnishing men and money to fasten slavery upon this glorious land by means no matter how foul,” his son wrote. Not one to shrink from a fight, especially against slavery, Brown was determined to fulfil his son’s request and decided he would deliver the goods himself. That June, Brown attended an abolitionist convention in Syracuse, New York, where he sought to drum up financial support to help purchase firearms and ammunition for his sons and other anti-slavery settlers. He spoke feverishly about the deteriorating situation in Kansas and circulated his son’s letter for added effect. Initially, many of the convention participants were reluctant to respond favorably to Brown’s pleas, fearing that more weapons would only further enflame the situation. At the end of the day, Brown persuaded enough participants to contribute to the cause and he made preparations to travel to Kansas. In August, John Brown loaded up his wagons and headed west with his son Oliver and son in law Henry Thompson. “I’m going to Kansas,” he declared, “to make it a Free state.”

On 21 May, over 800 pro-slavery ruffians led by former U.S. Senator from Missouri David Atchison descended upon the abolitionist stronghold of Lawrence Kansas and proceeded to ransack the town. Thundering into town uncontested, they terrorized the citizenry, looted homes and businesses, and destroyed two newspaper offices, tossing the printing press of an abolitionist newspaper into a nearby river. As the coup de grace, they destroyed the Free State Hotel, built by the abolitionist Emigrant Aid Company, as a temporary residence for newly arrived anti-slavery settlers.

News of the heinous attack spread quickly. Brown and his sons rushed to the defense of the town but were too late to prevent its destruction. Brown was furious. He was appalled by the damage that was done but he was equally incensed that not a single abolitionist fired a gun in defense of the town. About the same time, news from Washington reached Kansas that abolitionist Senator Charles Sumner was nearly beaten to death with a cane by pro-slavery Congressman Preston Brooks, while giving a speech on the Senate floor titled “The Crimes Against Kansas.” Both of these incidents only served to reinforce his belief in the Old Testament concept of justice, “an eye for an eye,” and the folly of non-violent abolitionism.

The attack on Lawrence was a turning point for Brown. One that would put him firmly and irreversibly on the path to a violent war against slavery. No longer willing to sit idly by and frustrated by the caution and inaction of leadership of Kansas’ free state movement, Brown vowed to retaliate for the attack on Lawrence. “Now something must be done… Something is going to be done now,” he told a small group of followers.

In Brown’s mind, pro-slavery forces needed to be taught a lesson, one that would resonate and not be easily forgotten. His next step would thrust him into national prominence and bring about his vision of a violent war against slave power in Kansas. On May 24, Brown, along with four of his sons and three other anti-slavery men descended upon a pro-slavery settlement along Pottawattamie Creek to exact their revenge. There, in the middle of the night, they dragged five pro-slavery men from their homes and brutally executed them with broad swords. Word of what would become known as the Pottawattamie Massacre, quickly spread. Brown repeatedly denied involvement in this criminal action but his growing militant reputation and that of his family made them prime suspects.

The executions did not have the intended “restraining effect” that Brown sought. Instead they ushered in an extended period of retaliatory violence known as “Bleeding Kansas,” in which the Brown family would play a leading role. In early June, Brown and a band of free-state militia ambushed the camp of a pro-slavery ruffians who were hunting down Brown and his family in response to the Pottawatomie Massacre. After a three-hour gun battle, Brown and his militia defeated the pro-slavery forces in what would become known as the Battle of Black Jack. It was what Brown himself called, “the first regular battle between Free-State and proslavery forces in Kansas” and what would become the opening salvo in his war against slavery.

Over the next six months, Brown steadily emerged as a national symbol in the struggle against slavery as the conflict between pro-slavery and anti-slavery partisans spread across the Kansas prairie. Brown’s standing would peak in August when several hundreds of pro-slavery fighters attacked the free-state settlement of Osawatomie, where Brown resided. With only forty men available, he led a vigorous but unsuccessful defense of the settlement. Although Brown was unable to prevent the destruction of Osawatomie, he did manage to score a major propaganda victory. By the end of the year, Brown was one of the most beloved or hated figures in Kansas. Back east, he had achieved the status of a cult figure among some New England abolitionists and was now known as “Osawatomie Brown” or “Old Osawatomie” and Broadway plays were written about him. Nevertheless, Brown’s rise to prominence was not without great personal cost. In the course of the struggle for Kansas, he lost his son Frederick who was ambushed alone by pro-slavery partisans and his son-in-law Henry Thompson who was mortally wounded at the Battle of Black Jack.

By 1857 the situation in Kansas was stabilizing as free-state forces gained the upper hand. Brown and three of his sons returned east in November 1856, and spent the next two years going back and forth from Kansas to New England raising funds. Brown couched his requests for support it terms of helping free-state settlers in Kansas but in reality he planned to use the money to fight slavery elsewhere. Brown’s experiences in Kansas only further convinced him that the war against slavery could and should be taken to the South where a major blow against the entire system of slavery might be struck. Brown’s focus once settled on Harper’s Ferry.

The Die is Cast

Brown secured the backing of six prominent abolitionists, known as the “Secret Six,” and assembled an invasion force. His “army” grew to include 22 men, including five free Black men and three of Brown’s sons. Among the five free Black men was Dangerfield Newby who joined Brown’s band after his efforts to purchase the freedom of his wife and seven children who were enslaved in Virginia failed. Brown hoped to recruit Frederick Douglass and Harriet Tubman to his cause boasting,  “When I strike, the bees will swarm.” Ultimately, Douglass and Tubman refused to join Brown’s endeavor, sure that the venture would fail. Undeterred, Brown and his co-conspirators rented the Kennedy farm in Maryland, across the river from Harpers Ferry and prepared for their raid.

The Kennedy Farm

Brown and his cohorts entered Harpers Ferry under the cover of night the evening of Sunday, October 16. They cut the town’s telegraph wires and quickly seized control of the unsuspecting armory. After taking control of the armory, Brown sent small detachments of men to kidnap several prominent local slave owners, including Col. Lewis W. Washington, a great-grandnephew of the first president. The following morning, the residents of Harpers awoke to news that their town had been overrun by radical abolitionists. Word of the raid quickly spread and armed militia units from nearby Shepherdstown, Martinsburg, and Frederick, Maryland poured into town. Brown and a dozen of his men found themselves surrounded, holed up in a small brick engine house with stout oak doors. Later that night a company of 90 U.S. Marines arrived, led by Colonel Robert. E. Lee and Lieutenant JEB Stuart, and took command of the situation.

Trapped in the engine house, the situation was becoming more bleak. Only four of Brown’s men remained unwounded while the bloody corpses of the slain, including Brown’s 20-year-old son, Oliver, lay on the floor of the engine house. Another son, Watson, lay mortally wounded. On the morning of the 18th, Lee sent Stuart forward under a flag of truce to negotiate Brown’s surrender. Brown asked that he and his men be allowed to retreat across the river to Maryland, where they would free their hostages. Stuart promised only that the raiders would be protected from the mob and receive a fair trial. “Well, lieutenant, I see we can’t agree,” replied Brown. 

The Engine House

With Brown now refusing to surrender, Lee ordered the Marines to storm the engine house. In the melee that followed Brown and his cohorts were overwhelmed by the Marines. The whole affair lasted three minutes. Of the 22 men who slipped into Harpers Ferry less than 36 hours before, seventeen men died in the fighting and five, including Brown himself, were taken prisoner. Brown was indicted for treason, first-degree murder and “conspiring with Negroes to produce insurrection,” on October 25. He and his other surviving followers were hanged before the end of the year.

John Brown on Trial

Given the horror and the demands for immediate justice that Brown’s actions provoked in the South, he was quickly brought to trial in Charles Town, Virginia on October 26. In less than a week, Brown was found guilty of treason, first-degree murder and “conspiring with Negroes to produce insurrection.” He was sentenced to death. On December 2, Brown exited the Charles Town jail and escorted to the gallows under the armed guard of six companies of infantry. Before his execution, he handed his guard a slip of paper that read, “I, John Brown, am now quite certain that the crimes of this guilty land will never be purged away but with blood.” Around 11:00 am, a sack and rope were placed on Brown’s head and around his neck. Brown told his guard, “Don’t keep me waiting longer than necessary. Be quick.” And with those words, Brown passed into history.

Brown’s execution stirred strong contradictory emotions in the North and South. In the North, Brown was celebrated as a martyr in the righteous war to end slavery. In the South he was reviled as the manifestation of the region’s worst nightmare. His words would prove prophetic. In little over a year later Lincoln would be elected President, South Carolina would secede from the Union and the nation plunged into civil war.

Battle of Fort Wagner, July 18, 1863

July 18, 1863- The battle of Fort Wagner- For three years Charleston South Carolina was an open wound for Union forces. It was here on April 14, 1861 that the Federal garrison at Fort Sumter, in the middle of Charleston harbor, was forced to surrender after being bombarded by Confederate forces in Charleston, initiating the Civil War. For, two and a half years the Union Navy had blockaded all of the major Southern ports in an effort to strangle the Confederacy. Repeated efforts to capture Charleston failed as the city was protected by a series of strategically placed forts and batteries.

In the spring of 1863, the Federals planned operations to neutralize the fortifications surrounding Charleston and capture the city. Crucial to their plan was the capture of Fort Wagner on Morris Island. On the evening of July 18, after a grueling day long bombardment, the 54th Massachusetts, a regiment of black soldiers spearheaded a direct assault on the fort. Commanded by Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, the scion of a wealthy Massachusetts abolitionist family, the unit was made up of freedmen and escaped slaves and intended to show that African-Americans were more than willing and capable to fight for their freedom. Prior to he assault, the regiment had bee tasked mostly with manual labor and had seen only limited action, as the army command continued to view the 54th as a political project rather than a military unit. The attack started off slowly but proceeded to the double quick as Confederate artillery tore apart the ranks of the 54th with devastating effect. Scaling the top of the earthworks, the 54th was met with a murderous volley of musket fire from the forts defenders killing Colonel Shaw and many others. The attack would ultimately fail with the regiment suffering over 40 percent casualties. Nevertheless, the men of the 54th fought bravely and with great valor. Sergeant William H. Carney, was wounded three times in the hip, chest and head as he retrieved the regimental standard after the flag-bearer was shot. He would receive the nation’s highest combat decoration, the Medal of Honor. Because of the valor shown by the men of the 54th, the US Army increased the number of black enlistments so that by 1865 almost two hundred thousand African Americans had served from 1863-1865. African-American soldiers would fight bravely in other places such as Petersburg and suffer atrocities at the hands or rebel soldiers at Fort Pillow.

African-American soldiers would continue to lay down their lives for their country in World War I and World War II but would still face discrimination and be forced to serve in segregated units until July 26, 1948 when President Truman desegregated the military.

John Brown: Terror of the Kansas Prairie

On May 24, 1856, John Brown, along with four of his sons and three other anti-slavery men descended upon a pro-slavery settlement along Pottawattamie Creek Kansas to avenge the sacking of the abolitionist stronghold of Lawrence, Kansas three days earlier.

John Brown at the time of the Pottawatomie Creek Massacre

On 21 May, over 800 pro-slavery ruffians led by former U.S. Senator from Missouri David Atchison descended upon Lawrence and proceeded to ransack the town. Thundering into town uncontested, they terrorized the citizenry, looted homes and businesses, and destroyed two newspaper offices, tossing the printing press of an abolitionist newspaper into a nearby river. As the coup de grace, they destroyed the Free State Hotel, built by the abolitionist Emigrant Aid Company, as a temporary residence for newly arrived anti-slavery settlers.

News of the heinous attack spread quickly. Brown and his sons rushed to the defense of the town but were too late to prevent its destruction. Brown was furious. He was appalled by the damage that was done but he was equally incensed that not a single abolitionist fired a gun in defense of the town. About the same time, news from Washington reached Kansas that abolitionist Senator Charles Sumner was nearly beaten to death with a cane by pro-slavery Congressman Preston Brooks, while giving a speech on the Senate floor titled “The Crimes Against Kansas.” Both of these incidents only served to reinforce his belief in the Old Testament concept of justice, “an eye for an eye,” and the folly of non-violent abolitionism.

Congressman Preston Brooks beating Senator Charles Summner with his cane.

The attack on Lawrence was a turning point for Brown. One that would put him firmly and irreversibly on the path to a violent war against slavery. No longer willing to sit idly by and frustrated by the caution and inaction of leadership of Kansas’ free state movement, Brown vowed to retaliate for the attack on Lawrence. “Now something must be done… Something is going to be done now,” he told a small group of followers.

Brown believed that the pro-slavery forces needed to be taught a lesson. In the middle of the night of May 24, Brown and his sons dragged five pro-slavery men from their homes and brutally hacked them to death with broad swords. Word of what would become known as the Pottawattamie Massacre, quickly spread. Brown repeatedly denied involvement in this criminal action but his growing militant reputation and that of his family made them prime suspects.

One of the broad swords used in a Pottawatomie Massacre

The executions did not have the intended “restraining effect” that Brown sought. Instead they ushered in an extended period of retaliatory violence known as “Bleeding Kansas,” in which the Brown family would play a leading role. In early June, Brown and a band of free-state militia ambushed the camp of a pro-slavery ruffians who were hunting down Brown and his family in response to the Pottawatomie Massacre. After a three-hour gun battle, Brown and his militia defeated the pro-slavery forces in what would become known as the Battle of Black Jack. It was what Brown himself called, “the first regular battle between Free-State and proslavery forces in Kansas” and what would become the opening salvo in his war against slavery that would culminate three years later with his failed attempt to seize the Federal Arsenal at Harper’s Ferry Virginia and start a slave insurrection.

Remember the Alamo, March 6, 1836

On March 6, 1836, two thousand Mexican soldiers under General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna stormed the isolated Franciscan mission near San Antonio known as the Alamo, killing all 189 defenders inside who were fighting for Texas’ independence from Mexico. The short war for Texas independence, which began the previous October, would conclude successfully a little over a month later on April 21 at the battle of San Jacinto River. There a Texas army under General Sam Houston routed the Mexican Army, capturing Santa Anna whom they agreed to release in return for Texas’ independence. For roughly nine years, Texas would exist as an independent Republic until its annexation by the United States in 1845. The annexation of Texas put into motion a series of events that would lead to the Mexican-American War in 1846. Victory in the war substantially increased the size of the United States, with the addition of California and the southwest,  but it also intensified the national debate over the expansion of slavery, unleashing the centrifugal forces that would later result in the Civil War.

General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna

In the 1820s, American citizens immigrated to the Mexican controlled territory of Texas, or what was called Coahuila y Tejas, lured by the promises of open land and new economic opportunities. Mexico had just won its independence from Spain several years earlier and was badly in need of settlers to inhabit the sparsely populated Texas territory and guard against marauding Comanche indians. Under, Spanish rule, Mexico had recruited “empresarios” who brought settlers to the region in exchange for generous grants of land. Newly independent Mexico continued this practice and passed colonization laws designed to encourage immigration. Thousands of Americans, primarily from the slave states of Tennessee, Kentucky, Arkansas and Missouri, flocked to Texas and quickly came to outnumber the Tejanos, the Mexican residents of the region. The soil and climate offered good opportunities to expand slavery and the cotton kingdom. Land was plentiful and offered at generous terms. Moreover for many Americans, it was their manifest destiny and patriotic duty to populate the lands beyond the Mississippi River, bringing with them American slavery, Protestantism, culture, laws, and political traditions.

Many of these American immigrants never shed their American identity or loyalty to the United States. For most of these settlers, Texas was an economic venture and deep down inside they showed little interest in Mexican culture or being part of Mexico. Many refused to convert to Roman Catholicism which was usually part of the deal for land grants, and repeatedly ignored Mexico’s prohibition on the public practice of other religions. Mexico’s prohibition of slavery in 1829 also became a source of discontent. Even though the Mexican government was lax in exercising its anti-slavery prohibitions, many of the slave holding settlers were distrustful of the Mexican government and wanted to be a new slave state in the United States. In fact there were those who felt an independent Republic of Texas in which slavery was firmly rooted and recognized was preferable to remaining part of Mexico with an uncertain future for slavery. Lastly, there was also great dissatisfaction among the American settlers with the Mexican political and legal system which was increasingly unstable, unresponsive and dictatorial. Most American settlers were from the frontier states and were Jacksonian-Democrats who firmly believed in “Manifest Destiny” and the philosophy that the best government was the least government.

By 1830, American settlers in Texas outnumbered Mexicans by roughly 20,000 to 5,000. Their growing numbers and their refusal to assimilate and follow Mexican law alarmed the Mexican government which proceeded to prohibit any further American immigration to Texas and increased its military presence there. Moreover, there were growing suspicions inside the Mexican government, that the United States deliberately was fomenting discontent among the Texans with an eye toward annexing the territory. President Andrew Jackson harbored a deep and abiding interest in acquiring Texas. Jackson fervently believed that Texas had been acquired by the United States as part of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803 but had been recklessly thrown away when President John Quincy Adams negotiated the Florida treaty with Spain in 1819 and agreed to the Sabine River as the western boundary of the country. All these factors pointed to trouble on the horizon.

In 1835, General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna seized power in Mexico after a period of prolonged political instability. Santa Anna’s power grab provoked revolts in several Mexican states, including Texas. With relations between the Mexican government and the Texans deteriorating, Santa Anna gave orders to disarm the Texans. On October 2, 1835 a company of Mexican soldiers attempted to seize a small 6-pound cannon that had been given to the town of Gonzales (50 miles east of San Antonio) in 1831 to help defend against Indian attacks. Proudly displaying a homemade white banner with an image of the cannon with the words: “COME AND TAKE IT,” the residents attacked the Mexican troops forcing them to retreat. The incident became the opening salvo in the Texas Revolution.

Defiant Texans at the Battle of Gonzales

Having thrown down the proverbial gauntlet, the Texans soon realized that the insurgency could not be sustained without an army and the proper governing institutions As news of the outbreak of hostilities spread, volunteers rushed to join the men at Gonzales and the nascent Texas Army was born. A provisional government soon followed. In the weeks and months following the Battle of Gonzales, the Texans fought several small victorious engagements against their Mexican foe. Arguably most important of these victories took place in early December when 300 Texans under Ben Milam drove a larger Mexican force from San Antonio, setting the stage for the dramatic events at the Alamo the following March.

The tide began to turn against the Texans in the new year. Santa Anna declared that the Texas colonists were in rebellion and that he would personally lead an expedition against them. He assembled a large army and moved north determined to mercilessly quash the rebellion and send a warning to all those who would oppose his rule. In February 1836, he crossed the Rio Grande river with over 6,000 troops and marched toward San Antonio. Here the Texans had inflicted a humiliating defeat on the Mexican army two months earlier and where a group of Texans was now occupying the Alamo. About the same time, another Mexican force under General Jose de Urrea advance north toward Goliad to attack another force of Texans under Colonel James Fannin.

The Texan victory at San Antonio the previous December was an important one bolstering the morale of the fledgling army, demonstrating the righteousness of their cause and capturing much needed arms and supplies. However, it also provided a number of challenges for Major General Samuel Houston, the new head of the Texan Army. San Antonio was relatively isolated and difficult to defend. Moreover, the Alamo, where the Texans had deployed about a hundred men was of limited defensive value. Described by Santa Anna as an “irregular fortification, hardly worthy of the name,” the Alamo was designed to withstand an attack by Indians and bandits, not an army equipped with artillery.

In January 1836, the commander of the Texan forces at the Alamo, Colonel James C. Neil, petitioned General Houston for additional forces to strengthen his defenses. Houston believed that San Antonio was of dubious strategic value and was reluctant to spare any additional troops, He sent Colonel Jim Bowie with 30 men to the Alamo to evacuate the twenty one artillery pieces that had been seized at the battle two months earlier and to destroy the compound. Unfortunately, a lack of draft animals prevented Bowie from completing his task as ordered. Neil managed to convince Bowie of the strategic importance of the Alamo and persuaded him and his men to stay and defend the mission. On February 2, Bowie sent a letter to Governor Henry Smith and the provisional government asking for more men and arms to defend the Alamo. In the letter Bowie wrote, “Colonel Neil and myself have come to the solemn resolution that we will rather die in these ditches than give it up to the enemy.” Despite Bowie’s impassioned plea, few reinforcements were authorized. Smith dispatched Colonel William Travis with 30 cavalry men to go to the Alamo. Soon after, another small group of volunteers arrived, including the famous frontiersman and former Congressman David Crockett of Tennessee.

The Alamo defenders now numbered around 150 men but more were clearly needed. On February 11, Neill departed the Alamo to attend to a family emergency and to seek out additional reinforcements. Before leaving, he transferred command to Travis, the highest-ranking regular army officer in the garrison. Neil’s departure created a temporary leadership crisis. Volunteers made up much of the force and they balked at accepting the more bookish Travis as their leader. Traditionally, volunteers elected their leaders and the men instead chose Bowie, who had a reputation as a fierce fighter, as their commander. Travis and Bowie quickly resolved the problem by agreeing to a joint command structure until Neill’s expected return. However, illness would incapacitate Bowie and Neill never made it back, leaving Travis as the sole commander.

On February, 23, 1836, Santa Anna and his army arrived in San Antonio and began preparations for a siege. Santa Anna ordered the raising of a blood red flag atop the San Fernando Church, sending a clear message to the Texans to expect no quarter. Significantly outnumbered, the Texans pressed the Mexicans for terms of surrender but were quickly told the only acceptable terms were unconditional surrender. If there were any doubts among the Alamo defenders that this would be a fight to the finish, they were quickly dispelled.

Santa Anna methodically encircled the Alamo and bombarded the fort with his artillery. Each night he tightened the noose, gradually moving his batteries closer towards the walls. The Texans responded in kind with equal ferocity but within three days they were ordered to conserve powder and shot and were ultimately reduced to reusing Mexican cannonballs. For thirteen days, (February 23–March 6) the Texans would steadfastly hold their position behind the walls, resigned to their fate, as they patiently waited for the inevitable Mexican assault.

The situation inside the Alamo grew increasingly dire with each day but the defenders still held out hope that reinforcements would come to their rescue. Travis sent out couriers with desperate pleas to Fanning and his men at Goliad and the other Texans at Gonzales to come to their aid and break the siege. “I call on you in the name of liberty, of patriotism and everything dear to the American character, to come to our aid with all dispatch… if this call is neglected, I am determined to sustain myself and die like a soldier who never forgets what is due his honor and that of his country,” Travis wrote. On March 1, a group of 32 men from Gonzales slipped through the Mexican lines and into the Alamo bringing the defenders numbers to just under 200. The arrival of these reinforcements, although small in number, gave Travis hope that others might heed his call. Unfortunately, these were the last reinforcements that would arrive.

Gap in north wall. Church. PLAZA. palisade. N. The Alamo in lb. Cannon.

The Point of No Return

Santa Anna called a council of war on the evening of March 4 and announced they would attack the Alamo early on the morning of March 6. His officers were stunned by the sudden announcement. Many preferred to continue the siege for at least another week, believing the enemy was nearing submission. However, Santa Anna was determined to storm the Alamo. A crushing victory over the Texans would send a loud and clear message to any other insurgents and avenge the Mexicans defeat from the previous December.

In the early morning hours of March 6, Santa Anna’s men crept within musket range of the Alamo and hunkered down waiting for the signal to begin the attack. Four columns of 400-500 men each would attack the four walls. The first column would attack the west wall, the one closest to town. The second was assigned the shorter north wall. The third column would attack the rear of the fort from the East. The last would assault the main gate at the south end of the fort. A fifth column would be held in reserve while the Cavalry would cut off any escape.

At 5:30 am, a lone bugle sounded and the four columns commenced the attack. In the background, Santa Anna’s band played the “Deguello,” or “cutthroat” tune signaling no prisoners would be taken. As the troops rushed forward with muskets, ladders, and other implements to scale the walls and break down the doors of the Alamo, they cried out “Viva Santa Anna! Viva Mexico!” The noise of the attack awoke the Texans and they raced to the walls to repel the assault. The first charge was beaten back as the Texans fired improvised grapeshot—broken horseshoes, nails, chain links, and other scrap metal—into the advancing columns. No Mexican soldier got within 10 yards of the wall. The attackers regrouped for a second charge, which was also beaten back as the Texans demonstrated themselves to be equally adept with the musket.

Davey Crockett and others defending the palisades

Santa Anna ordered his reserves to join the third assault. By that time the northwest corner of the wall had been breached by cannon fire and Mexican forces poured through the gap and into the interior of the fort. Colonel Travis was shot in the head and fell dead trying to rally his men and expel the Mexican invaders. Batteries defending the south wall quickly pivoted and fired on the new threat from the rear. This allowed the Mexican attackers to scale the southern wall unimpeded and breakdown the doors of the Alamo.

The plaza of the Alamo was now teaming with Mexican soldiers and fierce fighting was now going on inside the fort, much of it hand to hand as the Texans used their muskets as clubs to beat back the Mexicans. Davey Crockett probably fell at this stage of the fighting but some battle accounts claim he was captured and executed at the end of the battle. Some of the defenders tried to fall back to the long barracks and chapel which earlier had been made ready for a last stand, with sandbags and loaded shotguns inside. However, those defending the west wall were now cut off and could not reach these rendezvous points. They fled from the Alamo but were cut down by the Mexican cavalry outside the fort.

Santa Anna’s men now turned to clearing the Texans from these strongholds inside the Alamo. Here an awful carnage took place as the sheer numerical advantage of the Mexican Army proved too much for the Texans. In some of the bloodiest hand to hand fighting, the Mexicans bayoneted and pummeled their way through the rooms of the barracks, giving no quarter. Here Colonel Jim Bowie, bed-ridden with Consumption, met his demise. According to legend, Bowie died fighting from his cot with two pistols in hand and his legendary knife. Roughly a dozen remaining Texans were holed up in the chapel manning two 12 pounder cannons. As the Mexican soldiers entered the building the Texans unleashed a volley from the cannons. With no time left to reload, the attackers surged through the splintered doors and didn’t stop shooting or stabbing till all resistance ceased.

From Disaster to Independence

The entire battle lasted no more than 90 minutes and at the end of it, Santa Anna had his decisive victory. The general proved to be a man of his word. Not a single Texas fighting man was spared. Around 200 Texans lay dead in and around the Alamo including three of the best known figures in the rebellion, Bowie, Travis, and Crockett. Santa Anna did release a number of women, children, and slaves and sent them back to Gonzales to tell the other Texans what happened at the Alamo. News of the Alamo calamity did have a chilling effect but the sacrifice of Travis and his men animated the rest of Texas and kindled a righteous wrath for revenge that would keep the insurrection alive.

Though Santa Anna had his decisive victory, it wasn’t without significant cost to his army and his larger campaign. Accounts vary, but best estimates place the number of Mexicans killed and wounded at about 600. Many were veteran soldiers from his best battalions. Privately, many of his officers despaired at what they viewed as a reckless waste of life and were disillusioned with Santa Anna’s leadership. Many still believed that victory could have been won with less loss of life had they continued with the siege.

Major General Sam Houston

With the fall of the Alamo and the subsequent massacre of Texan forces at Goliad two weeks later, Santa Anna still needed to hunt down General Houston and the rest of the Texan army to quash the rebellion. Dividing his army into three, Santa Anna doggedly pursued Houston into East Texas but the rebel general refused to give battle, strategically retreating further East instead. Houston understood that his army was the last hope for an independent Texas and that he needed to use it wisely. He knew that it lacked the necessary training and discipline and that he needed time to train them better. He also wanted to face Santa Anna on ground of his choosing, ground that would offer the Texans the advantage. Nonetheless, Houston’s repeated retreats were taking their toll on the rank and file of his army. Many were tired of retreating. They grumbled Houston was a coward and wanted an opportunity to avenge the tragedies at the Alamo and Goliad. Discontent, however, came not only from the ranks, but from the provisional government as well. Houston was strongly criticized by President of the Texas Republic, David G. Burnet, as well. Burnet wrote to Houston: “The enemy are laughing you to scorn. You must fight them. You must retreat no further. The country expects you to fight. The salvation of the country depends on your doing so.” Houston was not one to be bullied or forced into actions he believed imprudent. He continued to wait for the right opportunity.

On April 18, the Texans intercepted a Mexican courier carrying intelligence on the locations and future plans of all of the Mexican troops in Texas. Houston now knew that Santa Anna was isolated and his army was smaller than anticipated. Feeling confident that the time had come to take to the offensive, Houston prepared his army to attack the Mexicans near the San Jacinto River. On the morning of April 21, Houston gathered six of his top officers together to strategize and lay out their options. Two of the officers suggested attacking the enemy in his position; the others favored waiting Santa Anna’s attack. Houston withheld his own views at the council but he was determined to attack Santa Anna. He had favorable ground. Santa Anna’s men were pinned in a triangle between a bayou and the San Jacinto river, with nowhere to retreat. Moreover, Even though Santa Anna had the edge in terms of numbers, his force was not decisively larger as was the case at the Alamo. Perhaps most important of all he risked losing the confidence of the men he commanded if he failed to act.

By that afternoon, Houston developed a simple plan for battle. He organized his army into three groups. The main attack would strike Santa Anna’s army from the front while the other two groups of forces circled around the left and right flanks of the Mexican camp. Around 3:30, Houston ordered his men to form up. His main body advanced forward undetected, concealed by the terrain, until they were within a quarter of a mile of the Mexican Army. The only two artillery pieces in Houston’s army were moved forward to support the impending attack. At 4:30, Houston ordered his cannons to open fire with grape and canister, a signal to commence the attack. His infantry and Calvary poured out of a tree line and charged forward screaming, “Remember he Alamo! Remember Goliad!

Santa Anna had been concerned that the Texans might strike his army earlier in the day but an attack so late in the day took him completely by surprise. Santa Anna concluded, not unreasonably, that Houston was not going to attack that day and allowed his men to relax and get much needed rest. Even the general himself had fallen into a deep sleep only to be woken by the clamor of the Texans’ assault. The entire Mexican Army fell into a panic as the Texans surged forward. Some Mexican officers and their men tried to make a stand but were overwhelmed. Most simply threw down their weapons and fled, driven into the bayou or the lake, including Santa Anna himself. Enraged Texans shot or bayoneted scores, in retaliation for the Alamo and Goliad massacres as they tried to surrender. The battle lasted only 18 minutes ending in a complete rout.

The Treaties of Velasco

The following day the Texans captured Santa Anna hiding in marsh disguised as a simple Mexican private. He was brought before General Houston who was resting under the shade of a large oak tree recovering from his wound. As news of Santa Anna’s capture spread throughout the Texan camp, many wanted to hang Santa Anna for his actions at the Alamo and Goliad. Houston was a strategic thinker and understood that Santa Anna was more valuable alive than dead. Two other Mexican armies under Generals Vicente Filisola and Jose Urrea were bearing down on Houston and his men and Santa Anna suggested that he order the remaining Mexican troops to pull back in return for sparing his life. He dispatched a letter to the commanders of the two armies acknowledging his capture and ordered the troops to retreat to San Antonio and await further instructions. Urrea wanted to ignore Santa Anna’s instructions and continue fighting the Texans. Filisola didn’t want to risk another disaster. His forces were experiencing ammunition shortfalls and his supply lines had broken down leaving little hope for resupply or reinforcements. Moreover, the spring rains had left many of the roads impassable.

A captured Santa Anna is presented to General Houston

Santa Anna spent the next several weeks and months in captivity, negotiating his release. He suggested two treaties, a public version of the promises made between the two countries, and a private version that included Santa Anna’s personal agreements. The Treaties of Velasco required that all Mexican troops withdraw south of the Rio Grande and that all private property be respected and restored. Prisoners of war would be released unharmed, and Santa Anna would be given immediate passage to Veracruz. He also secretly promised to persuade the Mexican Congress to acknowledge the Republic of Texas and to recognize the Rio Grande as the border between the two countries. On June 1, 1837, Santa Anna boarded a ship to travel back to Mexico. Three days later he arrived in Mexico and was placed under military arrest.

The Mexican authorities quickly denounced the agreements that Santa Anna negotiated, claiming that as a prisoner of war, he had no authority. They refused to recognize the Republic of Texas and there was a general feeling inside Mexico that the army would regroup and reconquer Texas. However, political instability in Mexico largely thwarted these hopes. Larger expeditions were postponed as military funding was repeatedly diverted to stifle other rebellions, out of fear that those regions would ally with Texas and tear the country apart further. Moreover, a large number of American volunteers flocked to the Texan army in the months after the victory at San Jacinto, further complicating Mexico’s ability to restore its authority over its rebellious province. As a result, Texas emerged as a de facto independent republic and functioned as a sovereign state until it was annexed by the United State on December 29, 1845.

A Republic if You Can Keep it

The newly minted Texas Republic quickly took shape but its nearly ten-year existence as a sovereign state would prove more challenging. In September, Houston was overwhelmingly elected President of the new Texas Republic after entering the race at the last minute. A new bicameral legislature was stood up the following month consisting of 14 senators and 29 representatives.  Houston also appointed well-known Texans to his cabinet to help him deal with the problems of the new Republic. Stephen F. Austin served as secretary of state. Former provisional Governor Henry Smith was named secretary of the treasury. Thomas J. Rusk continued as secretary of war, a position he had held under Governor Smith during the ad interim government of Texas.

The challenges facing the new republic centered on three areas security, finances, and international recognition. The Mexican government refused to recognize Texas’ independence, so the two states were technically still at war. And while Mexico was consumed by political instability that greatly impaired its ability to reassert its control over Texas, the new Texan leadership needed to prepare as though a resumption of war was on the horizon.  A tribe of Native Americans, the Comanches, posed an ever present danger, conducting raids on frontier settlements from San Antonio to northern Mexico. The Comanches were quiet during the revolution but now resented the growing number of settlers invading their territory and they threatened to declare war. Houston was cautious in his policies. He did his best to prevent another war with Mexico and instituted a policy toward the Comanches aimed at establishing peace and friendship through greater commerce.

On the financial front, the fledgling republic was deeply in debt. The provisional Texas government had incurred a debt of $1.25 million to win its independence from Mexico that needed to be repaid. Houston tried to hold government expenses to a minimum and began to raise revenues by collecting customs duties and property taxes, but the debt continued to rise. Houston’s successor as President, Mirabeau Lamar, completely mismanaged the republic’s finances, squandering money on an unnecessary war against the Comanches, purchasing ships to outfit a Texan navy, and other misguided policies only further enlarged the debt. By the time of annexation, the debt of the Texas Republic climbed to $12 million while the purchasing power of the Texas dollar shrunk to 15 cents.

Perhaps the most crucial question to address for the Texas leadership was the issue of international recognition and the possibility of annexation by the United States. Mexico refused to acknowledge Texan independence and the threat of renewed conflict constantly loomed over the nascent republic. The Texans desperately wanted international recognition of their new republic hoping that if other nations recognized that Texas was no longer part of Mexico, then Mexico would do the same. Most important was diplomatic recognition by the United States. In fact, most citizens of the new republic were overwhelming in favor of Texas being annexed by the United States.In September of 1836 an overwhelming majority of Texan voters endorsed a resolution to seek admission into the United States, viewing annexation as a solution to all their problems.

The question of Texas was a thorny issue in American politics in the 1830s and 1840s because it carried with it the potential of war with Mexico and it was deeply tangled up in the debate over slavery. The loss of Texas by way of the Adams-Onis Treaty had always infuriated President Andrew Jackson and he tried to purchase the territory from Mexico early in his presidency, offering a paltry $1 million. Moreover, he had personal relationships with key players in the Texas drama, including Texan President Sam Houston who was from Tennessee and was once Jackson’s protégé. Nonetheless, the President wanted neither war with Mexico nor domestic strife over adding what would likely become another slave state. With the 1836 U.S. presidential election looming, Jackson strived to avoid creating any controversy that would hand the election to the rival Whig Party. Jackson waited to the waning minutes of his presidency and on March 4, 1837 officially recognized the independence of Texas.

Jackson’s last minute recognition eased some of the tension and urgency surrounding the Texas question but it did little to satiate the annexation advocates. President Martin Van Buren, Jackson’s successor, was a New York Democrat, who did not share Jackson’s affinity and fixation with Texas. In fact, Van Buren viewed Texas more as a liability than a gift. He worried that it would empower the anti-slavery northern Whig opposition – especially if annexation provoked a war with Mexico. Moreover, only five weeks into his presidency, the United States was in the midst of a financial panic, one which would last way into the early 1840s. As a result, Van Buren had little interest in taking on Texas with its almost $10 million debt. Presented with a formal annexation proposal in August 1837, Van Buren declared he would not support the annexation of Texas.

Annexation and the Election of 1844

The push for annexation received a shot in the arm after John Tyler became president. Tyler was an accidental president. He was selected as William Henry Harrison’s running-mate in the 1840 presidential election on the Whig ticket. He became President only after Harrison died of pneumonia 30 days in to his term of office. Tyler, a Virginia slave holder, was not well liked inside the Whig party. He was selected largely as a compromise candidate and to siphon Southern support away from the Democrats. In fact other than sharing a disdain for former President Andrew Jackson, Tyler probably had more in common with the Democrats which frequently put him at odds with most of the party. In 1841, Tyler was expelled from the Whigs after vetoing two bills aimed at reestablishing a national bank and other priority legislation.

Rejected by the Whigs, Tyler viewed the annexation question as a political opportunity. Tyler did not worry that an outright annexation of Texas might spark a war with Mexico or fuel further sectional divides. On the contrary, he was quite prepared to put his own personal political ambitions ahead of the welfare of the country. Tyler wanted to exploit the annexation issue to boost his long shot hopes of a second term. His closest advisors counseled him that obtaining Texas would help him win a second term in the White House. He hoped to either steal the 1844 Democratic presidential nomination by aligning himself with southern Democrats who favored the expansion of slavery or by siphoning off pro-slavery voters in both parties who were so inclined. As a result, the acquisition of Texas became a personal obsession for Tyler and the “primary objective of his administration”..

Tyler made it abundantly clear that he had designs on Texas during his first address to Congress in 1841 by announcing his intention to pursue an expansionist agenda. In 1843, Tyler forced the resignation of his anti-annexation Secretary of State Daniel Webster, replacing him with Abel P. Upshur, a Virginia states’ rights champion and ardent proponent of Texas annexation. By late 1843, Upshur was in secret negotiation with Texas emissaries. These moves brought a swift rebuke from Mexico which made clear that any annexation would be regarded as an act of war. They were also roundly condemned by anti-slavery forces inside the United States. Former President, now Congressman, John Quincy Adams, led the resistance, warning that a conspiracy by slaveholders to expand the bounds of slavery was afoot.

In April 1844, U.S, negotiators and their Texan counterparts reached agreement to bring Texas into the United States. Under the terms of the agreement Texas would cede all its public lands to the United States, and the federal government would assume all its bonded debt, up to $10 million. The boundaries of the Texas territory were left unspecified. With the terms of annexation nailed down, all that was left was for the Senate to ratify the agreement. However, in early June, the Senate wrecked Tyler’s carefully orchestrated plan. On June 8, two-thirds of the Senate voted to reject the treaty (16-35). The Whigs opposed it almost unanimously (1-27) while the Democrats split with the majority in favor of the agreement (15-8). Defeated and dejected, Tyler dropped out of the presidential race in August but that was not the end of his Texas dream. Tyler, assured Democratic Party leaders, which were now unequivocally behind bringing Texas into the Union, that as president he would effect Texas annexation one way or another and he urged his supporters to vote Democratic.

President James K. Polk

The Texas question defined the Presidential campaign of 1844, despite the Senate’s earlier rejection of Tyler’s treaty. Initially the two front runners, Senator Henry Clay of Kentucky for the Whigs and former President Martin Van Buren for the Democrats, had reached a gentleman’s agreement not to discuss the issue of Texas during the campaign because of its volatility. However, Southern Democratic politicians, including former President Andrew Jackson, sought to use the Texas issue to deprive Van Buren of the nomination. Instead they sought to elect Tennessee Governor James K. Polk, a slaveholder who favored annexing Texas. In an election that was decided by about only 38,000 popular votes, Polk was elected the eleventh President of the United States.

Following Polk’s narrow victory, President Tyler declared that the people had spoken on the issue of annexation, and in he resubmitted the matter to Congress in a lame-duck session. This time he proposed that Congress adopt a joint resolution by which simple majorities in each house could secure ratification for the treaty. Involving the House of Representatives into the equation boded well for the treaty as the pro-annexation Democratic Party held a 2:1 majority in that chamber. On January 25, 1845, the House approved the treaty 120-98, in a vote that pretty much went along party lines. Little over a month later, the Senate followed suit and approved the treaty 27-25. All twenty-four Democrats voted for the measure, joined by three southern Whigs. On March 1, 1845, Tyler approved the joint resolution just three days before he left office. President Polk signed the Texas Admission Act into law on December 29, 1845, and Texas formally became the 28th state on February 19, 1846.

The March to War

The admission of Texas into the United States fundamentally resolved the Texas question once and for all. However, it did little to satiate the expansion-minded Polk administration or southern slaveholding elites who continued to eye additional Mexican territory for annexation and the extension of slavery.

Even though Texas was now part of the United States, disagreement over its southern border remained a bone of contention between Mexico and the US. The Polk administration would use this dispute as a pretext to go war with Mexico and to seize California, New Mexico and the rest of the territory that presently makes up the American southwest.

Texas claimed the Rio Grande as its southern border while Mexico argued the Nueces River, to the north, should be the border. In January 1846, President Polk ordered American General Zachary Taylor to establish a military camp beyond the Nueces River to provoke the Mexicans and buttress American claims. Three months later, Mexican military forces attacked Taylor’s army providing the casus beli Polk had sought. On May 13, Congress declared war on Mexico, despite opposition from some northern lawmakers, who saw the war as nothing more than a trumped up land grab to extend slavery.

The war would end in less than two years and when the dust cleared Polk had substantially increased the size of the United States winning control over territory that included nearly all of present-day California, Utah, Nevada, Arizona and New Mexico. Nevertheless, it was a deeply unpopular war. A war that future war hero and President of the United States, Ulysses S. Grant President called “one of the most unjust ever waged by a stronger against a weaker nation. The war was won but conflict over what to do with the vast amounts of territory gained from the war sparked further controversy in the U.S. The question over whether slavery would spread to these new territories would drive North and South even further apart inching the nation closer to civil war.

“All Lives Matter” but Some More than Others!

“All lives matter!” or so they say. On the surface it’s reasonable claim. One that is hard to deny or argue with, especially for a nation that was conceived on the premise that all men are created equal. But that’s not really the point, is it? Of course all lives matter, but do they matter equally? History would suggest otherwise. In reality, the phrase “All lives matter” has become a trope to reject and deny the increasingly disturbing trend of unarmed African-Americans killed by police under dubious circumstances and the fact that throughout our country’s history, black lives have been devalued systematically. It’s an expression of fear, based on the erroneous perception that Black Lives Matter is a zero-sum movement that seeks racial advantage rather than the equality promised in the Constitution and Declaration of Independence, a redress of historical grievances and a more equitable system of justice.


The Peculiar Institution

The African-American experience has been one of exploitation and marginalization. Since the first ship arrived in the Jamestown colony in 1619, carrying some 20 plus Angolans against their will, black lives have been devalued. Over the next two hundred years, more than 400,000 additional Africans would be kidnapped from their homes, brought to North America in the squalid hulls of slave ships, and forced into bondage as a source of cheap and captive labor. Often toiling in dangerous and inhospitable conditions, where few would do so of their own choosing, these slaves brought tremendous wealth not only to those that enslaved them but the entire country through the large scale cultivation of rice, tobacco, indigo and cotton. Slavery became so woven into the economic fabric of the country that by 1860, 80 percent of the U.S. GDP was tied to the “peculiar institution.” Yet as Carole Anderson points out in her book White Rage, that in return for almost 250 years of forced labor, African Americans received nothing but rape, whippings, murder, the destruction of families, illiteracy, and poverty.

As slaves, African-Americans were a commodity to be bought and sold and once purchased their lives ceased to be their own. They were the property of the slave owner. Slaves had no legal or occupational safety protections, no rights to education, healthcare or religious instruction. They labored six days a week from sun-up to sun-down, with a reprieve on Sundays for rest and worship. They were at the whim and mercy of their owners, who were free to do as they pleased with their property. Disobedience was punished brutally and severely, often at the end of the whip. And if a slave was killed while being “corrected,” the owner was free of any responsibility for their death. Marriages between slaves were not considered legally binding and traditional family ties were not respected. Owners were free to split up families as they liked often with tragic consequences for the slaves involved. Husbands and wives, parents and children were separated, sold elsewhere for profit or some times gifted or transferred for other reasons without any restrictions.

A slave auction advertisement in Charleston, SC

Adding insult to injury, the slave’s subordinate status was given legal standing in the disastrous 1857 Dred Scott decision in which the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that slaves were indeed property and therefore had no rights which the white man was bound to respect. Chief Justice Roger Taney, who delivered the majority opinion, argued that at the time the constitution was adopted, blacks were regarded as “beings of an inferior order and unfit to associate with the white race.” He further added that the words in the Declaration of Independence, “all men were created equal,” were never intended to apply to blacks and that “the negro might justly and lawfully be reduced to slavery for his benefit.”

Even amongst those who believed slavery to be immoral and unjust there was still a strong tendency to view blacks as inferior. For example, President Abraham Lincoln, at least initially, did not believe in racial equality. During the 1858 Lincoln-Douglas debates, Lincoln argued, “I will say then that I am not, nor ever have been, in favor of bringing about in any way the social and political equality of the white and black races,” Lincoln further added that he opposed blacks having the right to vote, to serve on juries, to hold office and to intermarry with whites. Lincoln’s views were consistent with those of the times. However, they would evolve and by the end of the Civil War he was openly speaking of limited black suffrage for the “very intelligent” and those who fought for the Union cause.


The Civil War and Reconstruction

The Union victory in the Civil War brought peace and an end to the four year conflict. It did not lead to a new racial reckoning, atonement for past sins or level the playing field for blacks and whites going forward. For if the North won the Civil War, the South surely won the peace. Over the next ten or so years following the Civil War, embittered former Confederates waged a guerilla style war against Federal Government efforts to grant equal rights to blacks, while seeking to resurrect the plantation economy, perpetuate slavery under another name, and reassert white supremacist rule in the South. Aided and abetted by an openly racist President Andrew Johnson and a U.S. Supreme Court that would undercut major legislative acts and protections for blacks, the end result was not racial equality but segregation, exploitation, oppression and intimidation or what would become known as the “Jim Crow South.”

“This is a country for white men, and by God, as long as I’m President, it shall be a government for white men.”

President Andrew Johnson

To continue exploiting the newly freed African-Americans as a captive source of cheap labor, the Southern states passed restrictive laws called “Black Codes.” These laws required that blacks sign annual labor contracts with plantation, mill, or mine owners to work for pitifully low wages. If they refused and had no other gainful employment, which was impossible because blacks were only allowed to work as laborers or domestics, they would be charged with vagrancy and rented out as laborers to pay off their fines. Apprenticeship laws forced many minors (either orphans or those whose parents were deemed unable to support them by a judge) into unpaid labor for white planters. After ratification of the 14th Amendment, these laws were replaced by another odious form of peonage, sharecropping, which consigned African-Americans in the South to a life of abject poverty for most of the 19th and 20th century. Fewer than 20 percent of sharecroppers ever made a profit and challenging the system could easily result in being lynched.

Unrepentant southerners violently resisted the Federal Government’s efforts to protect and expand the civil rights of former slaves and to extend the franchise to black men, through the 14th and 15th Amendments. They opposed the idea of political and legal equality between the races and regarded black suffrage as a threat to their political power that would lead to “nigger domination.” In all fairness, the 15th Amendment also encountered considerable resistance in the North as well for similar reasons. Nevertheless, groups such as the Ku Klux Klan, the White League, Red Shirts and simple mobs carried out acts of terror and violence to intimidate African-Americans and their white Republican allies and to prevent them from holding political office or exercising their right to vote. Lynchings, with the blessing and involvement of local law enforcement, rose dramatically and would persist as a means of intimidation and control long after the failure of Reconstruction. At the same time, large scale violence such as the 1873 Colfax Louisiana Massacre achieved or overturned what couldn’t be won at the ballot box. By 1880, all Federal troops were withdrawn from the South and the Southern white elite were in control again. The antebellum social, political, and economic order in the South was restored as if the Civil War never happened.

A lynching in Texas


Several important U.S. Supreme Court decisions in the later-half of the 19th century eviscerated the 14th and 15th Amendment protections for African-Americans, opening the door to an extended period of legally sanctioned racial discrimination that would endure for almost a century. In United States v. Cruickshank (1876), United States v. Reese (1876) and United States v. Harris (1883) the court essentially hollowed out the federal government’s ability to prosecute hate crimes committed against African-Americans, allowed state governments to implement poll taxes, literacy tests and other means to disqualify black voters, and gave a greenlight to acts of terror and violence while limiting freedmen’s ability to enforce their rights in federal court, the only forum where they stood a chance of a fair hearing. In Plessy v. Ferguson (1898) the court established its infamous separate but equal standard, ensuring that segregation would increase and endure at least till 1964. These rulings would essentially allow blacks to be segregated lynched, and disenfranchised without anyone ever being brought to justice. African-Americans were once again at the mercy of southern whites and relegated to second class citizens.

“By narrow and ingenious interpretation [the Supreme Court’s] decisions over a period of years had whittled away a great part of the authority presumably given the government for protection of civil rights.”

C. Van Woodward

Life in the Jim Crow South was increasingly bleak and brutish for African-Americans and in many respects was no better if not worse than slavery. Blacks were trapped in a vicious racial hierarchy that denied them the most basic human dignity and freedoms. Deprived of control over the means to earn a living, Southern blacks were still forced to toil for white landowners under a sharecropping system that became a form of debt slavery and offered no economic mobility. Segregation increasingly took hold and Blacks were systematically excluded from everything from schools to residential areas to public parks to theaters to pools to hospitals, asylums, jails and residential homes. Almost every aspect of Southern society was segregated to the disadvantage of blacks and served as a constant reminder of their inferior status. Effectively stripped of their right to vote and denied protection at the Federal level by the U.S. Supreme Court, African-Americans were at the mercy of a legal system stacked against them with former Confederates working as police and judges making it difficult win court cases and gain a fair hearing.

Violence against blacks in the South also increased in frequency and cruelty, uninhibited by the legal system. Lynchings became a public spectacle and the preferred method of southern whites to intimidate blacks and to assert their dominance over political and economic power. Southern whites often showed little mercy. Records include at least one incident where two brothers in Texas were burnt at the stake and one in Georgia in which a pregnant woman was hanged, her belly slashed open and the head of her unborn child crushed under a boot. An estimated two or three blacks were lynched each week in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. In Mississippi alone, 581 blacks were lynched from the late 1800s to 1955. Nationwide, the figure climbed to nearly 5,000. This tragic combination of violent repression, a lack of economic opportunity and no legal recourse ensured blacks would remain impoverished, endangered, and without rights or hope in the South.

A family of Texas sharecroppers, the Arthurs, arrive in Chicago homeless and without money fleeing Paris, Texas after two of their sons were burned alive, at the Lamar County Fairgrounds, on July 6, 1920.

The Great Migration,World War I, and the Red Summer

Up until the end of the 19th century, 9 out of every 10 African-Americans lived below the Mason-Dixon Line. As a result, most racism towards blacks was concentrated in the South. That’s not to say that whites in the north were free of prejudice and racist sentiment. In fact, the callous and cowardly attacks on African-Americans during the 1863 New York City draft riots showed otherwise. Nonetheless, things began to change around 1916 as African-Americans began leaving the South en mass, fueled by poor economic conditions, an increasing availability of jobs in the North’s booming manufacturing industry and a desire to escape the pain of Jim Crow. Over one million African-Americans from the South would make the long journey northward by the end of 1919. That number would reach 6 million by the year 1970.

An African-American family leaving Florida for New Jersey

African-Americans would soon find that the North was not the promised land they hoped and in the summer of 1919, racial violence exploded throughout the country, in what would become known as “The Red Summer.” It was some of the worst white on black violence in U.S. history and demonstrated that racism was not simply a regional problem indigenous to the South but a national one. Race riots erupted in Chicago, Arkansas, Washington DC, New York City, Omaha, Charleston, Memphis, Philadelphia, Texas and elsewhere. Hundreds if not thousands of African-American men, women, and children were brutally shot, hanged, and beaten to death by angry white mobs threatened by black advancement and intent on preventing them from asserting their equality. As one black sharecropper remarked, “they just hated to see niggers livin like people.”

The outbreak of violence was the result of competing social forces: Black men were returning from World War I expecting the same rights they had fought and bled for in Europe, and African Americans were moving north to escape the brutal Jim Crow laws of the South. Whites saw blacks as competition for jobs, homes and political power. In Chicago, riots broke out in late July after a 17 year old African-American boy was attacked by a white mob for violating the unofficial segregation of the city’s beachfront. Four days of fighting between black and white mobs in Chicago’s predominantly black south side left 15 whites and 23 Blacks dead, and an additional 1,000 Black families were left homeless after rioters torched their residences. Newspapers reporting the events would claim that blacks were rioting and that anarchists were allegedly operating in the black neighborhoods, but there is not real evidence of any of that. These actions were overwhelmingly by white mobs.

In Elaine, Arkansas, over 200 poor black sharecroppers were killed in a police-led white rampage because they dared to unionize and break free from unscrupulous white landowners who cheated them out of cash and crop. In Washington DC white mobs — many made up of members of the military — rampaged through the city beating any black they could find after false rumors of a white woman being assaulted by black men spread. Black military veterans organized and retaliated  The Washington Times newspaper described the situation as such, “Bands of whites and blacks hunted each other like clansmen throughout the night, the blood-feud growing steadily. From nightfall to nearly dawn ambulances bore their steady stream of dead and wounded to hospitals.” These scenes were repeated elsewhere throughout the country in the summer.

Racial tensions and white mob violence continued and did not really begin to wane until 1923. Two of the most heinous acts of racial violence against African-American communities occurred shortly after the Red Summer. In May of 1921, a race riot broke out in Tulsa, Oklahoma after a young black man allegedly assaulted a white woman. Hundreds of white people descended upon the Black neighborhood of Greenwood. Whites killed more than 300 African-Americans. The Tulsa police did nothing to quell the violence and some actively participated in it. It was also reported that white men flew airplanes above Greenwood, dropping kerosene bombs. More than a hundred businesses and other buildings were destroyed, including a school, a hospital, a library, and dozens of churches. More than 1,200 Black-owned houses burned. The economic losses in the Black community were stunning, amounting to more than $1 million. In January 1923, more than 10,000 angry white men from across the state of Florida rampaged through the prosperous black community of Rosewood after a white women claimed she was raped by a black man. The number of deaths from the massacre remains unknown but the town was entirely destroyed by the violence, and the residents never returned.

Covenants and Redlining

The rapid influx of African-Americans in northern cities prompted a white backlash in other less menacing but still disturbing ways. Although there was no official policy of racial segregation in the North, unofficial segregation existed, especially in the housing market, which exacerbated racial tensions. In the major northern cities, African-Americans were often funneled into areas of the cities that were overcrowded ramshackle slums, through the deliberate policies of restrictive covenants and redlining, which prohibited blacks from owning or renting property in certain neighborhoods and discouraged banks from investing in predominantly black areas. These policies inhibited any upward mobility for African-American families, relegating them to a life of urban poverty. Any efforts to escape these confines and relocate to better and more prosperous white suburban neighborhoods met with violent resistance. As Richard Rothstein points out in his book, The Color of Law, white families sent their children to college with their home equities; they were able to take care of their parents in old age. They were able to pass on their wealth to their children. None of these advantages were available to African-Americans who were prohibited from owning homes in the suburbs.


Returning Home from World War II

Approximately 1.2 African-American men again answered their nation’s call to service, putting life and limb at risk in the fields of Europe and the islands of the South Pacific, only to face an even greater danger when they returned home. Black soldiers returning home from the war found the same socioeconomic ills and racist violence that they faced before. Despite their sacrifices overseas, they still struggled to get well-paying jobs, encountered segregation and endured targeted brutality, designed to eliminate any expectation of racial equality.

In February 1946, Isaac Woodard, a Black veteran who served in the Pacific theater, got into a heated argument with a bus driver while traveling from Georgia to South Carolina. Woodard, in his uniform, was ordered off the bus in a town now known as Batesburg-Leesville, S.C., and beaten so terribly with a billy club by the local police chief that he was permanently blinded. John C. Jones, a Black veteran, was lynched in Louisiana after he was accused of looking at a young white woman through a window of her family’s house. Two other Black veterans, Richard Gordon and Alonza Brooks, were murdered in Marshall, Texas, after a labor dispute with their employers. The violence became so pervasive and brutal that civil rights activists lobbied President Truman for a federal anti-lynching law, but Southern Democrats shut down Truman’s efforts.

African-Americans Veterans also struggled to benefit from the G.I. Bill, upon their return. Many black veterans were denied access to a college education and were largely relegated to vocational programs. By comparison, 28 percent of white veterans went to college on the G.I. Bill, compared with 12 percent of Blacks. Of that number, upward of 90 percent of Black veterans attended historically Black colleges and universities — institutions mainly in the South that were already underfunded with limited resources. During the summer of 1947, Ebony magazine surveyed 13 cities in Mississippi and discovered that of the 3,229 V.A. home loans given to veterans, two went to African-Americans.

Civil Rights and the Death of Jim Crow

In the late 1940s, cracks began to appear in the legal foundation of Jim Crow segregation. In 1948, President Truman issued an executive order to begin the integration of the United States’ armed forces, a process that would be accelerated by the Korean War. Earlier that year, Truman, a native Missourian, delivered a civil rights speech before a joint session of Congress. He called on Congress to adopt a civil rights package that included federal protection against lynching, better protection of the right to vote, and a permanent Fair Employment Practices Commission, despite strong opposition from he southern wing of the Democratic Party. The Supreme Court, which was complicit in the enactment of the Jim Crow system with its earlier rulings, also began to re-examine it’s separate but equal doctrine that served as the foundation of legal segregation. On May 17, 1954, the Supreme Court turned the country upside down with its ruling in the landmark case of Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka. In a unanimous opinion, Chief Justice Earl Warren wrote, “in the field of public education the doctrine of ‘separate but equal’ has no place,” as segregated schools are “inherently unequal.” As a result, the Court ruled that the plaintiffs were being “deprived of the equal protection of the laws guaranteed by the 14th Amendment.” The ruling drove a stake through the heart of Jim Crow but it would take a decade long struggle for civil rights to bring about its demise.

The Supreme Court’s ruling outraged segregationists through out the South while energizing civil rights activists. Over the course of the next ten years, African-Americans waged a campaign of non-violent civil disobedience to end institutionalized discrimination, disenfranchisement, and segregation but were repeatedly beaten, bombed, shot, imprisoned, humiliated and degraded by a southern power structure determined to resist their efforts at all costs. Fourteen year-old Emmett Till would pay with his life for no reason other than allegedly whistling at a white woman. In Greensboro North Carolina, four young African-American men staged a sit-in at an all white lunch counter, enduring heckling and harassment from white patrons, sparking similar actions across the city and rest of the South. Freedom Riders protesting against segregated interstate travel were beaten and shot at by the Ku Klux Klan in Alabama. Four young African-American girls lost their lives in the despicable 16th Street Baptist Church bombing in Birmingham Alabama. James Meredith’s desire to attend the University of Mississippi touched off a brutal battle on the streets of Oxford between Federal Marshals and segregationists. Six hundred protestors were beaten by the police on the Edmund Pettus bridge in Selma Alabama for simply demanding their constitutional right to vote. These are just some of the individual and collective acts of bravery and the suffering that helped lead to the 1964 Civil Rights Act and the 1965 Voting Rights Act that closed the curtain on the Jim Crow era.


All Lives Don’t Matter!

There is probably no other idea or concept more central to the American identity or ethos than the notion of equality. It’s at the forefront of the Declaration of Independence and it is the foundation of the American dream, the idea that we all have equal access and opportunity to better ourselves. It is also a key feature of our legal system, the idea we are all equal under the law. Yet when we peel away the onion, that is our history and when we are honest with ourselves, can we really say that there is racial equality in modern American society.  We would all like to believe that 13th Amendment outlawing slavery leveled the playing field for blacks and whites while the 1964 Civil Rights Act and the 1965 Voting Rights Act purged racial discrimination from our society but that is not the truth. We still want to see ourselves as that “ the city upon a hill” that John Winthrop wrote about in the 17th century but we continued to fall short of our aspirations.

Today, in America we are at another historical crossroads regarding race. We have another opportunity to confront our past, warts and all, to make amends, and to lay the foundation for a new racial reckoning, a third Reconstruction if you like. When we defiantly say, “All lives matter,” we refuse to acknowledge that past. When we say “All lives matter,” we deny and delegitimize all the pain, suffering and indignity that African-Americans have endured for the past 400 years. When we say, “All lives matter,” we are saying aren’t listening and African-American concerns are not valid. At a time when racial tensions are being deliberately inflamed maybe we should stop talking and start putting some meaning behind that empty phrase.