CRIME BREEDS CRIMINALS.
After the withdrawal of troops from the South, crime of every sort went
regularly on much as usual, though not on nearly so large a scale as
before. Negro men and women, as well as those of the whites who had
sympathized with the radical regime, were whipped and even murdered
on the flimsiest and slightest pretext and in the most wanton manner.
Robbery was of such frequent occurrence as to occasion surprise only
when it did not happen. Negroes became good Democrats or submitted to
unmerciful whippings. This soon reduced the number of objectionable
voters to such a negligent quantity as they all got lost in a
well-hidden minority. Everybody who was not a Democrat was worse than
an infidel. A Republican stood no more chance of success in a contest
for political preference than a snow ball in the infernal regions.
Social ostracism was handed out to him to the extent of ignoring him
altogether, visiting his home in case of the direst necessity and then
long enough only to attend to the matter in hand in the shortest time
possible. His little children were not infrequently whipped by other
children on account of their father being a Republican.
This was the spirit existing between a South Carolina Democrat and
Republican only a few years ago, but today the two meet on terms of
perfect equality, provided, of course, that each are white; and discuss
the politics of the country without a quarrel or even exciting much
attention. The Democrat is perfectly willing to let the Republican
run the government at Washington as long as the Republican remains
indifferent to the rule of the Democrat in the government of the State.
The one bribes the other and each cheats the Negro. The latter’s
vote, under the disfranchisement laws enacted by the Democrats, is so
negligible as to draw the contempt of the majority party and obtain a
few false promises only from the party of the minority.
But in spite of the handicap of continued injustice and persecution,
in the face of opposition when the race was weaker and not so capable
of bearing its burdens as now, the Negro race through the assimilation
of knowledge is evolving at a rapid rate. Miss Schofield’s work is
bearing fruit, enriched by the multiplication of schools all over the
South. The habit of whipping and murdering Negroes is growing less
and less frequent and becoming in most of the Southern States, quite
a serious offense. Recent acts of some of the legislatures of States
make a county in which a person is lynched responsible to the family
sustaining the loss, and suit to recover the sum of $2,000.00 as an
indemnity is authorized. Improvement in the moral standard of the
whites is making for improvement in the moral standard of the Negro.
As the condition of one race improves the other improves. The two will
continue to go up or down together.
The lesson that crime breeds criminals, taught by the brutalities of
the “Red Shirts,” will never be forgotten by the white people of the
South. When these people tired of robbing and assassinating Negroes,
many of them turned on their own kind and not a few but suffered
much. A man named Taylor for no other grievance than that he accepted
the office of Sheriff under Chamberlain, a Republican governor, was
shot down in his own home under the very eyes and nose of his wife.
Conviction of the criminal was, of course, impossible as there were
numbers and numbers of men bound together by oaths and other ties of
secret invention ready at call to perjure themselves in any event
affecting a member of their clan, while at that time a wife could
testify neither for nor against her husband. The criminality of the
times had made criminals of men formerly of gentlemanly traits, and
splendid character, while those of an immoral nature from inheritance
were rendered desperately and hopelessly criminal.
Than “Uncle” Alex Bettis, there was never a better Negro in all the
world. It is said of him that he could really do no wrong wilfully,
that all his errors were to be charged to the ignorance of his poor
brain rather than to any sinister motive of his pure heart; yet
notwithstanding his reputation as a faithful friend to the white
man, to all men of all races, the type of criminal produced by the
criminality of the times was so depraved that it sought the life of
Bettis, justifying their actions by asserting that his work as a
minister and an advocate of education for the colored race was inimical
to the best interests of the people, white and black alike.
Although almost illiterate, “Uncle Alex” was truly a power behind the
throne of grace on earth, for them behind that throne, when he directed
the machinery connected with it, all imaginary blessings on earth and
in Heaven flowed, even to over-flowing in the hearts of the Negroes.
It is admitted now, and should have been acknowledged at the time of
his great ministry that Mr. Bettis’ assurances of salvation to the
Negro for a righteous life and eternal damnation for a wicked life well
served to cause thousands of his followers to abandon their ways of sin
and lead lives of self-sacrifice and Christian effort, as Jesus would
have all peoples to live and act.
Perhaps his preaching was not considered objectionable and had he
confined himself solely to that alone, would not have been disturbed;
but he had become imbued with the redeeming influence of education
through contact with the Schofield school at Aiken and early in
his work began the agitation for a Negro school, where, along with
elementary literary courses, should be taught the industrial arts as
Miss Schofield was doing. This aroused the highly criminal element of
the whites, who wanted some pretext to further persecute the Negroes,
and so it was ordered at one of their meetings that Bettis should be
put to death. The day, date and place for his execution had been fixed,
but on account of an accident or some illness to his horse, a large
iron-gray, known to the whole country-side, the minister passed the
band of murderers bent on his assassination, astride another horse,
in disguise. The leader of the mob inquired of the rider if he knew of
the whereabouts of Bettis. He replied that “preacher Bettis wus jes’
a little way up de road at Simon Kenny’s ho’se, and wus ’er comin’ er
long terrectly.”
The mob waited all the afternoon and throughout the night for Bettis
but he never came. So early the next morning they called in person at
the Bettis’ home. He received them with great kindness, and although he
knew the object of their visit, showed no excitement whatever.
When informed that his death had been decided on, and that he had
but little time in which to live, Bettis displayed a calmness and
self-control that would have stripped Zeno of his honors at the shrine
of stoicism.
“Well, ef dat be de way der gud Lawd hab fer me ter go” said Bettis,
“I’s re’dy, but yo’ genermen luk lak yer is pow’rful hungry, an’ befo’
yer tends ter de bisness at han’ pleas let mer ole lady fix yer a bit’
ter ete.”
As something to eat in those days was very welcome and there was
unusual hunger among the party, the consent of the mob to have Mrs.
Bettis prepare the meal was readily obtained. During the interval
between its preparation and consumption Bettis entertained his guests
with talks relating to his crops, the condition of crops generally
throughout his circuit of churches and kept repeating at the end of
each subject: “But laws er mercy, youn’ marsters, its a heap wusser
fer de po’ nigger dan it wus befo’ de wah. Now, he’s got nuttin but
freedum, whiles fo’ freedum he hab all he wants ter ete an’ mo’ ter
boot, an’ hab close to ware and ebbryting ter kep hissef wa’m.”
If these bad men were not wholly disarmed by the simple, rustic beauty
of the Negro’s unaffected discourse in the presence of death, during
the whole of which not once did he evince any sign that a single
thought of his sad fate had ever passed through his troubled brain,
they were certainly deeply affected by it, as well as by that act of
his in desiring to feed them, they who had come, not to feed him but
to make food of him for the worms of old graves in the silent woods of
sighing forest trees!
When the hungry had been fed and all had returned to the sitting room
of the humble Negro home, Mr. Bettis said, “Well, youn’ marsters, I
g’ess yo’ is ’er wantin’ ter go, and so I’se not er goin’ ter dela’ yo’
lon’, but I do wants ter pra’, ef yo’ pleas’es suhs.”
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