For much of its history, if you were in need of a moral compass, you could do the opposite of whatever South Carolina was doing and have a pretty good chance of getting things right.1 South Carolina as often as not was a self-righteous, pompous Dickensian church beadle, proclaiming the virtues of starving and beating orphans for fun and profit. It seems always to have been peculiarly obsessed with wealth and status. It’s really hard to like much of South Carolina’s past.
South Carolina was the only original colony whose founders owned slaves. Instead of coming direct from England, a majority of its early settlers came from the sugar plantations of the West Indies, particularly Barbados, where slavery was already a going concern. Charleston became a major slave market for the Colonies, and between 1803 and 1807 South Carolina squeezed through Charleston the last legal shipments of approximately 50,000 slaves. In most slaveholding states, it’s estimated that somewhere north of 30% of whites owned slaves. In South Carolina, the number is estimated at 50%. Until the export in the 1830s of a goodly number of South Carolina slaves and their owners to better cotton land in Alabama and Mississippi, black slaves in South Carolina significantly outnumbered white residents. Until the 1730s, a majority of South Carolinians were African-born.
South Carolina’s John C. Calhoun was the mastermind of the first threat to the Union, the 1830s Nullification Crisis. Because tariffs to protect northern manufacturing increased the cost of goods in South Carolina, Calhoun (then Vice President) came up with the useful notion that a state could nullify any federal law it didn’t like. South Carolina did just that, but before the question could be tested Andrew Jackson worked a compromise with lower tariffs. It’s one of the reasons Jackson is on the $20 bill. Before Lincoln, Jackson first saved the Union from South Carolina.2
In 1856, South Carolinian Congressman Preston Brooks brutally beat Massachusetts Senator Charles Sumner on the Senate floor because of an antislavery speech by Sumner criticizing Brooks’ first cousin once removed. Brooks resigned his seat later in 1856 for reasons other than the beating, and was almost immediately re-elected. He died a year or so after the re-election, and good riddance. It was almost four years before Sumner recovered sufficiently to return to the Senate.
John McGee, Southern Chivalry–Argument Versus Clubs, 1856, National Museum of American History (Caning of Charles Sumner by Preston Brooks).
It is usually remarked that Brooks used a gutta-percha cane for the beating, though gutta-percha is never explained.3
The Bishop of Charleston, Patrick Lynch, was a slaveholder and a prominent slavery apologist. According to The South Carolina Encyclopedia, before the war he was the legal owner of about 95 slaves, most of them the property of the Diocese. He was the Confederacy’s delegate to the Vatican.
South Carolina’s U.S. Senator James Hammond, child molester (of his own teenage nieces) and slave rapist (one of whom may have been his own daughter), dared the free states to threaten Southern slavery in an 1858 speech declaring that cotton was king:
“What would happen if no cotton was furnished for three years? I will not stop to depict what everyone can imagine, but this is certain: England would topple headlong and carry the whole civilized world with her, save the South. No, you dare not make war on cotton. No power on earth dares to make war upon it. Cotton is king.”
Hubbard & Mix, Negro Quarters, T.J. Fripp Plantation, St. Helena Island, S.C., circa 1863, Library of Congress.
In hindsight, there are three ironical twists to Hammond’s proclamation. First, much of our cotton now comes from India and China, not the U.S.4 If Hammond had been right, even for that moment, he would ultimately have been wrong. Had the South’s secession succeeded, an independent slave South, increasingly isolated and economically irrelevant, would have ultimately failed because someone else would have produced the cotton.
The second twist is that because its government lacked meaningful central authority, the South never stopped producing cotton during the war. Planters continued production, even while the planter class was largely exempted from the Confederate draft. During the war cotton was slipped out of the South by blockade runners or through Mexico. Presumably quantities were reduced, but there was never the cessation of manufacturing that Hammond had projected. Worse, by allowing the production of cotton, the South didn’t grow sufficient food. As the War progressed, starvation in its cities became widespread, and Southern White hunger hastened the War’s end.
Detail of photograph by Henry P. Moore, Slaves on Plantation of Confederate general Thomas Drayton, Hilton Head, S.C., 1862, Library of Congress.
And of course the third twist was that Hammond was just plain wrong. Cotton was not king. The South lost the War and never received the support from foreign nations that Hammond had expected.
Then South Carolina was the first state to secede, and then it kicked off the War by firing on Fort Sumter.
After the War, South Carolina was a leader in voter repression and Jim Crow. It even produced its own powerful version of the Klan in the 1870s, the Red Shirts. In July 1875, at Hamburg, S.C., approximately 100 Red Shirts attacked 30 black militiamen, killing two and then torturing and murdering four more. One white died. The Hamburg Massacre kicked off the Red Shirt violence of the 1876 gubernatorial election. Immediately following Hamburg approximately 100 Blacks and two Whites were killed in Ellenton, and five Whites and three Blacks were killed in Cainhoy.
The Red Shirts at Hamburg were led by Benjamin Tillman, who later served 24 years as a U.S. Senator from South Carolina. Tillman justified the execution at Hamburg of Simon Coker, a black state legislator. Coker had asked to pray. According to Tillman, while Coker was kneeling in prayer, it was declared that he was taking too long and “[t]he order ‘aim, fire,’ was given . . .”, presumably by Tillman. Tillman wrote as justification that at Hamburg the Red Shirts were in a battle to protect the Anglo Saxon way of life, which, whatever that may be, sort of begs the question.
Mike Stroud, Meriwether Monument, 2008, HMdb.org, used in accordance with site restrictions. Monument in John C. Calhoun Park, North Augusta, S.C., commemorating Thomas McVie Meriwether, the white casualty of the Hamburg Massacre, who “gave his life that the civilization builded by his fathers might be preserved for their childrens children unimpaired.”
The home of the founder of the Red Shirts, Confederate Brigadier General Martin Gary, was restored by the Daughters of the Confederacy in Edgefield, South Carolina, and is operated by a 501(c)(3) as a Red Shirt shrine. Admission is $5 for adults.
Segregation was defended in South Carolina into the 1970s. In 1964, Strom Thurmond, a former pro-segregationalist Dixiecrat nominee for President and U.S. Senator from South Carolina, supported Barry Goldwater against Lyndon Johnson and began the exodus of Southern Democrats to the Republican Party.
Brigadier General Martin Gary, founder of the Red Shirts, circa 1861-1865, Duke University. He looks quite the mad zealot.
- As an aside, I had assumed that none of my ancestors came through South Carolina, but there are at least a couple of fifth great-grandparents buried near Spartanburg, a Mary [?] and John Birdsong. Birdsong was a Revolutionary War major, and died in 1790, well before the Civil War. By the War my later Birdsong-related ancestors had moved on, though generally not from the Confederacy. They were just in different places. I suppose I carry some of the weight of South Carolina’s history, but one really couldn’t ask for a better last name to ponder than Birdsong. ↩︎
- Don’t tariffs just make your eyes glaze over? Apparently we’re going to have to revisit them soon enough. Who knew that tariffs could cause price increases? ↩︎
- Gutta-percha is a kind of rubber obtained from a tropical tree, the Palaquium gutta, and the first widely available thermoplastic was produced from its sap. Demand for gutta-percha in the 19th and early 20th centuries threatened the trees. In addition to canes for beating abolitionist senators, gutta-percha was used among other things to insulate the first trans-Atlantic telegraph cables and to revolutionize golf by providing the first solid-cores for golf balls. It is still used for root canals. ↩︎
- My Granddaddy was my family’s latest cotton farmer, but certainly not the first. During the Depression he once gave my Momma a bale of cotton to pay for her college tuition, so like a lot of Southerners, Black and White, I have a relatively direct tie to cotton. Notwithstanding the South’s early claim to cotton, now a lot of our cotton comes from somewhere else. It is irony on irony that much of China’s cotton that comes to us in Chinese-produced tee shirts and whatnot is grown by forced labor in the Uyghur region, where China is ethnically cleansing its Muslim minority. ↩︎