We Need a Movement
We are organizing ourselves together as a race of people who feels that
they have been wronged.
Callie House knew hard work. Born a slave, now a washerwoman and a widow with
five children, she was at the bottom of America's social and economic ladder as
she stood proudly before a cheering crowd of African Americans. The National
Ex-Slave Mutual Relief, Bounty and Pension Association had just elected her its
first and only female officer. Addressing the convention delegates who had
honored her with their votes, she talked about the thousands of people she had
met on the road in the cause of compensation for slave service. House spoke of
organizing local branches and collecting petitions to submit to Congress. She
told them of her long hours spent "among strangers laboring to the best of my
ability for the rights which my race is justly entitled to." This woman
of modest means but great courage would soon become the association's leader.
For her work, she would be praised by poor African Americans, ridiculed by the
race's elites, and targeted by high government officials, who feared her
influence with the masses, and eventually land in jail. But on this November
day in 1898, as she stood before supporters, newly elected assistant secretary
of the nation's largest reparations movement, all things seemed possible.
Callie House came to prominence in the period historian Rayford Logan labeled
the nadir, the lowest point along the long, rough road African Americans had
traveled since Emancipation. Women were legally barred from voting, and black
men suffered disenfranchisement through subterfuge and violence. Booker T.
Washington advised against political activism. But many like Mrs. House chose
another course. By the early twentieth century, her organization, the National
Ex-Slave Mutual Relief, Bounty and Pension Association, according to federal
officials, would swell to about 300,000, determined black people petitioning a
government that barely recognized their existence and demanding a law ordering
reparations for slavery.
Through cajoling and explaining, House inspired the old ex-slaves to exercise
their rights as citizens to demand repayment for their long suffering. She
urged them not to give up despite continued oppression and listened as they
shared stories about their lives under slavery. Often in tears, aging and
ailing men and women recalled being treated as less than human during their
years of unpaid labor for masters who sexually abused slave women, broke
families apart, and who had "the power to whip them to death."
Although steeled for the effort to gain reparations, House and her cohorts were
living in desperate times and still reeling from a bleak, awful past. House's
life experiences made her intimately familiar with the plight of those she
referred to as the "ignorant, bare footed and naked" among her fellow
ex-slaves. From family accounts, she was born into slavery in Rutherford County
near Nashville, Tennessee, in 1861. (Her birth, like that of other slaves, was
not officially recorded.) There, in a landscape of rolling hills, cereal and
tobacco production, and horse farming, slave owners depended upon the labor of
the approximately 13,000 blacks who constituted about 50 percent of the total
population of the county.
Whether slaves had masters who, as one Tennessee slave put it, "gave them
rations and warm clothes to wear" or scraps and rags that did not cover
their nakedness, their lives in bondage etched indelible memories of suffering
and abuse. A collective consciousness born of brutal experience shaped the
reactions of Callie's family and other slaves when freedom finally came. One
Tennessee ex-slave remembered that on the plantation where she lived they could
go to church, where they were admonished to obey their masters. She went to
services "barefoot with a rag tied around her head and a dress that came up to
her knees," which was all she had to wear. She also was "whipped with a
bull whip" and was not ashamed to say, in old age, that she "still had
scars on her back put there by the master." Another Tennessee ex-slave
told of being sold away from her husband, whom she had never seen again. At the
slave yard they told her to take off her clothes and roll down the hill so the
prospective buyers "could see you had no bones broken or sores on you."
The coming of the Civil War finally brought freedom but not an immediate
response to the suffering. In 1862 and early 1863, when Callie House was a
toddler, the Union Army swept through Tennessee, which had joined the
Confederacy. In their wake the slaves made a mass move toward freedom. Her
family was among the thousands of so-called contraband-slaves who either
ran away or whose masters fled at the Union approach-in their wake. When
the Union soldiers, whom the children called "the Blue Men," came, slave
men, women, and children followed along behind them. The women did laundry and
cooking for the soldiers; the army gathered up the black men to work as
laborers, digging ditches and building fortifications. Refugees slept where
they could and ate what they could find. Then the Union decided to recruit
blacks as soldiers. Callie House's father, Tom Guy, like many other freed men,
probably joined the Union Army in the 29th U.S. Colored Infantry Regiment. The
unit served in the area at the Battle of Stones River at the end of 1862 and
the beginning of 1863. In heavy fighting that the Union won, more than a third
of the Union and Confederate troops were killed, wounded, or captured. In
November and early December 1864, the 29th Regiment also helped repel the
Confederate drive into Tennessee, ending at Franklin just south of Nashville.
The fighting and the federal occupation devastated farms and communities in
much of the surrounding area, including Rutherford County. The numbers of
refugees-contraband-fleeing slavery increased to a torrent.
House's family and other African Americans tried to gain and maintain their
freedom without being demoralized by the uncertainty all around them.
African-American mothers and fathers begged Union officials to help them regain
their children and reunite their families. At the same time, some former slave
owners tried to regain or retain African-American children as slaves, even
after abolition had come, by taking them as apprentices without their parents'
permission, or simply assaulting any parent who came to claim a child. A
soldier stationed in Nashville in August 1865 begged his wife from Clarksville
to join him. She did not want to leave before rescuing their daughter, who was
still claimed by her former owner as a slave. The Freedmen's Bureau agent gave
her an order for the child's release. The former slave owner complied, but as
mother and child started down the road he overtook them and "beat her with a
club and left her senseless on the ground after which he returned home with the
child." The former slave owner was arrested by Bureau officials and fined
$100 for having "maltreated" her. However, in the meantime her soldier
husband thought she had forgotten him, and he "married" another woman.
Bureau officials refused to help dissolve the new "marriage" because upon
seeing that some of the children of his original wife were "mulattoes"
and others were "black," they did not believe the soldier could have
fathered all of them. The beleaguered mother was treated as a loose woman who
could not be helped.
The chaos and confusion, the elation over freedom, the struggle to survive, and
the scars of their bondage shaped ex-slaves' thinking about the meaning of
abolition. Freedom for Callie and other ex-slaves would have been very
different if the Union had kept its promises to give them land confiscated from
Confederate slaveholders. The reparations question could have been settled at
once. For the ex-slaves, the promise of land was real, not just something they
imagined or hoped for. General William Tecumseh Sherman made the promise when
thousands of freed people followed the troops when he marched his army from
Atlanta to the sea in 1864-1865, laying waste the Confederacy. Secretary
of War Edwin Stanton heard reports that Sherman had been heartless and shown
indifference to the poverty-stricken condition of the newly freed people.
Stanton came to Savannah in January to meet with Sherman and talk to
African-American leaders about their needs. Twenty blacks selected by Union
authorities, deacons, and ministers, three quarters of whom had been slaves,
came to the meeting and let national leaders know that land was their major
priority. When asked how they could best support their families, their
self-selected leader, sixty-seven-year-old Baptist minister Garrison Frazier
from Granville, North Carolina, replied, "To have land and turn in and till it
by our labor."
With Stanton's support, Sherman approved the request. He issued Order Number 15
of January 16, 1865, designating the rich sea islands and plantation areas from
Charleston to Jacksonville, thirty miles inland, for settlement by the
freedmen. Each adult male could claim a forty-acre tract. The March 3, 1865,
Freedmen's Bureau Act repeated the promise that each freedman would be assigned
"not more than forty acres" of abandoned or confiscated land at rental
for three years and an option to purchase at the end of that time with "such
title thereto as the United States can convey." Word of the promise
spread quickly among the ex-slaves.
By June 1865, 40,000 freedmen had been settled on the coastal lands and were
growing crops. The promise of forty acres and a mule seemed a reality. However,
any hope that this policy would expand to the rest of the South proved to be an
illusion. After President Abraham Lincoln was assassinated, President Andrew
Johnson gutted the policy. He issued an amnesty proclamation on May 29, 1865,
pardoning many rebels and restoring their lands to them. Abolitionists tried to
stop the policy change, but to no avail. The government dashed the sea island
freedmen's hopes after their hard work tilling land they thought was theirs.
General Oliver Howard, who later founded Howard University, was ordered to
either persuade or force blacks occupying the land under Sherman's orders to
abandon their claims to their former owners and return to work for them as
laborers. Incredulous, the freedmen cried out at the betrayal. The accusation:
that the government would "make freedom a curse to us, for we have no home, no
land, no oath, no vote, and consequently no country." Years later Wiley
Childress and other aging ex-slaves recalled with still burning anger that
"before Freedom the slaves were promised forty acres of land when freed but
none ever got it." He had also never heard of anyone "getting
money" for their labor from the government.
Although the rumors of land distribution continued to spread among the
freedpeople, the government failed to keep the promise in the sea islands,
middle Tennessee, or anywhere else in the South. House's family worked and
scrimped to help themselves with no government assistance. Members of Callie
House's family and other ex-slaves, such as ex-slave Ellis Ken Hannon, "dun all
kinds of jobs. Anything that came along," to stay alive. By 1866,
Reverend John Savary, an abolitionist traveler in the South, reported the
beginnings of the sharecropping and crop lien system, which soon gained a
stranglehold on the freedpeople. He knew they would have great difficulty
improving their status if they had no land and no capital: "They will continue
to work on from day to day, and from year to year, without more than enough to
keep soul and body together."
Excerpted from "My Face Is Black Is True: Callie House and the Struggle for Ex-Slave Reparations" by Mary Frances Berry. Copyright © 2006 by Mary Frances Berry. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.