D. Wyatt Aiken Letters: A murder at Hodges' Depot

Col. D. Wyatt Aiken, a leading conservative in Abbeville County, was arrested for suspected involvement in the killing of Republican politician B. F. Randolph. Col Aiken had not been present at the killing, but he had given public speeches condemning Randolph in violent language, and only two days before the killing, he had personally threatened him.

The following letters provide an unusually close look at the incident from Col. Aiken's perspective. The two letters that follow are among those held by the South Caroliniana Library as part of the David Wyatt Aiken Papers collection.

The first letter, dated November 11, 1868, is a letter that Col. Aiken wrote to his daughter, Ella Gaillard, while in jail in Columbia on charges of being an accessory to the murder of Senator Randolph. Ella, aged fifteen at the time of the letter, was the oldest of Col. Aiken's children.

The letter reveals much about the conservative response to the murder of Randolph. Col. Aiken received an outpouring of support: conservative allies offered to not only pay his bail, but they also helped make his time in prison more pleasant by bringing him bedding and food. Aiken mentioned by name "Wm. McMaster," "Mr. Sloan," and "Col. Haskell."

All three men were prominent conservative lawyer / politicians who had served Confederacy: "Wm. McMaster" was likely Col. Fitz William McMaster, "Col. Haskell" Alexander Cheves Haskell, and "Mr. Sloan" John Trimmier Sloan. (Both John T. Sr. and Jr. were active in politics, so it could have been a reference to either of them.) F. W. McMaster would go on to provide the legal defense for a prominent conservative leader during 1871 Ku Klux Klan criminal trial.

Col. Aiken also received support from less prominent conservatives. The unnamed jailer was a former Confederate solider, and he went out of his way to treat the colonel with kindness. While South Carolina conservatives complained loudly about being unjustly crushed by a tyrannical Republican government, Col. Aiken appeared to have been treated very generously by the criminal justice system.

Columbia [unreadable]

Nov 11 68

My Dear Daughter,

When I left here the other day I hoped to be able either to meet you on your way down, or at any rate at the Depot in Col. [i.e. "in the city of Columbia"]. But I had no control of my time here, nor have I yet. On my arrival here I was put in a carriage, and taken directly to a magistrate's office, and though allowed an interview with my lawyer, I was sent to jail. The Constable, who ordered my arrest, seeing the universal sympathy that was manifested for me, went with me to the jail and ordered the comfortable quarters for me. A friend sent me a lounge, Wm. McMaster bed, Mr. Sloan my excellent meals, and all the acquaintances I had in Col. called to see me, each proffering to go on my bond to any amount and to bail me out of jail. there was no judge before whom I could appear in Col. except Judge Hoge, + I declined having anything to do with him for you remember, he was the man that I lectured so severely that day at Hodges Depot. So Wm. McMaster, my lawyer, sent to Lexington for Judge Boozer, who did not reach here until late last night. And as the Attorney General, who is to represent the State against me, was not here but in Charleston, he had to be telegraphed for and this evening at 5 O'Clock set by the judge as the hour for my appearance before him. As soon as the the result is known will note it on this letter and mail it to you + you must read  + send to Aunt Ellen. This letter is [as] you may file away to be read long in the future as an epistle written to you by your father when in jail. Only think of it, yesterday as the Greenville train rolled into the depot I looked through the bars of my grated window + wondered if my daughter was in that train, and knew how sad would be her happy heart if she knew where her imprisoned father stood looking for + thinking of her. I hope, however, to get out of this prison this evening. Except for the first hour or two I have not feel that I was in close confinement though when the first grating of the heavy bar + turning of the iron lock that closed my cast iron door, was heard, my very pores oozed a cold sweat that made me feel miserable. After the sheriff + constable left the house, however, the jailor came came up to see who I was + when he found out that I had been a Col. in the Brigade [i.e. a colonel in a Confederate army brigade] in which he fought, he said "Col. I'll push to the door + you may ordered it locked if you wish." He has been very kind to me and says, he knows me too well to keep me as he would an ordinary prisoner. Everybody has been so kind to me. One man, whom I only knew by name, sent me word he would secure my bond for $100,000 if necessary. Another told Col Haskell to tell me he was envious of me. Poor mother doesn't know that father is in jail, or she would go crazy. I told Joel to write her + not mention it + told him not to let you girls show it. I have not seen him to learn whether you really went down. I suppose you did. I will write you again from home + am afraid it will be a lecture, for I intended giving both you + Mattie. Kiss Mattie for me. Study hard both of you. Third regards to Dr. + Wm. For + Love to Uncle Joe + family

Yours affectionately,

Father

The other letter is a January 15, 1869 letter written to Col. Aiken. While the letter-writer signed his name, I can't read the signature, but he appears to be a local conservative politician. He was writing a few months after Randolph's murder, and this was evidently a time when Aiken's alleged involvement in Randolph's murder was coming under increased scrutiny. The letter-writer was writing to express sympathy and share what he remembered of Col's Aiken's actions. 

Two things are notable about this letter. First, it shows that Col. Aiken and the anonymous letter-writer (and presumably many other conservatives) show no remorse for Randolph's murder or the the own violent rhetoric in the months proceeding the killing. Second, the letter supports the theory that Col. Aiken's involvement in the killing was limited to violent public rhetoric. The letter 

Abbeville S. C. Jan 15 '69

Dear Col: 

Yours of 13th inst. was read today and I hasten to reply.

I well remember the occasion to which you refer and much that you said. You spoke of Randolph as having visited Greenville for the purpose of counteracting the effect of the democratic mass meeting which had lately been held there, and supposed that he would follow for a similar purpose in the wake of the one which you were then addressing – that his mission was of the most incendiary character, tending to array the black man against the white man and thus leading to bloodshed – that in so doing he would deserve death as a public [warning], and you felt addressing that if he came into your neighborhood preaching such sentiment he would get what he deserved, a piece of ground six feet by three. The foregoing is the substance of the allusion made by you to Randolph as I remember it. Of course I understood it as everybody else did, spoken in the heat of a political campaign and I have no more idea that the saying had any more to do with the killing of Randolph than the remarks of any other speaker upon the occasion.

I have seen Whipper bill. It is atrocious, as is also the vindictive persecution of which you have been made the subject. 

Be addressed of my sympathy and hope of your speedy + swift deliverance.

Yours Truly, 

Sources

1. [Letter; 15 Jan. (18)69, Abbeville, S.C., to 'Dear Col.' (David Wyatt Aiken Aiken, David Wyatt (1828-1887)], Folder 9. South Carolinians Library. 

2. [Letter to Ella Gaillard Aiken regarding jail], Aiken, David Wyatt (1828-1887) Folder 9. South Caroliniana Library.

Who murdered B. F. Randolph?

Who murdered South Carolina Senator B. F. Randolph? William K. Tolbert, Joshua Logan, and John West Talbert were the murderers. There is no serious question of this. Tolbert confessed to the shooting, and implicated the other two. His testimony was supported by four additional witnesses, two of whom had witnessed then shooting themselves. 

But naming the killers is only a first step in understanding the crime. The shooters were clearly not acting on their own. They were part of a large crowd that had gathered as the Hodges Depot train station to watch Randolph die. What brought William K. Tolbert, Joshua Logan, and John West Talbert to the train station? Why did they commit the crime? How were they connected with conservative political leaders? In this blogpost, we'll try to answer these questions and then look at the longterm impact of the killing.

Bringing the assassins to justice

The answers we have to question, "Who killed B F Randolph?" were generated by efforts by state officials, so let's begin by looking at how the legal system responded to the killing.

Holding the perpetrators responsible presented an immense challenge to South Carolina's criminal justice system. Up until a few month before the murder, the civilian courts were suspended, and the legal system was run by the army. While the courts were now open, nobody was entirely sure about what they were suppose to do as a recent revision to the state constitution had reorganized the legal system. 

In the case of Randolph's murder, the greatest difficulty was the practical matter of bringing the perpetrators to court. The state's law enforcement was minimal. There was nothing like a modern police force. Typically, law enforcement in Abbeville County was handled by the county sheriff. A South Carolina sheriff did not have a large staff and instead would deputize volunteers when he needed additional manpower. In the case of political violence like the killing of Randolph, a major problem was often that the sheriff had no interest in apprehending the perpetrators. The sheriff was elected and lived in the community, so he was often a representative of white conservatives. This appeared to have been the case in Abbeville. The sheriff was Henry S. Cason, a white man who had worked as a merchant in Abbeville before the Civil War. Records about Cason are scarce, but he appears to have been a conservative. In any case, the sheriff appears to have made no effort to apprehend Randolph's murderers.

The other instrument for law enforcement was the chief constable. The chief constable, John H. Hubbard, had been appointed by the governor, so he was fully supportive of stopping political violence against Republicans. Statewide, he oversaw twenty-four constables, six of which were assigned to Abbeville County. In their efforts to hold Randolph's assassins accountable, they arrested two conservative leaders who were suspected of having plotting the assassination. This was one of the few instances were political leaders were arrested for suspected involvement with political violence. 

The first person arrested was Col. D. Wyatt Aiken. Col. Aiken was planter and a leading figure in county conservative politics. He had declared in a speech that Senator Randolph should be given "four feet by six" (i.e. a coffin) if he comes to Abbeville County. This was one of several violent public denunciations he had made, and only two days before the murder, he had even threatened Randolph in person.

At the request of the chief constable, a magistrate (Solomon) issued an arrest warrant for Col. Aiken on a charge of accessory to murder. On November 9  (approximately a month after the assassination), a posse of two deputies and three Union soldiers arrested him and brought him to Columbia. Col. Aiken spent a day or two in jail and then was released on bond. After his release, Aiken published a public letter to the governor expressing harsh criticism over his treatment. He claimed he was "feloniously incarcerated" and accused the governor of tyranny, comparing him to the French king Louis XIV ("proclaim 'I AM THE STATE'"). The chief constable he called a "hiring." Most remarkably, he warned that the governor was risking further violence. He closed the letter with a warning that, if the governor persisted in his "scheme of tyranny," then he predicted that it would "redound with serious consequences upon the heads of higher officers than the chief constable, you will not charge me with 'being accessory before the fact,' for the exasperated consequence upon such cruelty is widespread and not confined to a single race." This statement seems to be a long-winded and indirect way of threatening that the governor with violence if he persisted in his law enforcement efforts, a shocking statement of make when when several politicians had  been assassinated.

A second arrest was made on December 24. That morning, the chief constable and five or six of his deputies arrested J. Fletcher Hodges. He was a member of a prominent family (his father George W. Hodges was the founder and namesake of Hodges' Depot), and although he was not a leading figure in county politics like Col. Aiken, he certainly had potential. The evidence against Hodges was stronger than that against Col. Aiken. While Aiken had not been present at the train station when Randolph was killed,  multiple witnesses had not only seen Hodges there, but they had even testified that he had mocked Randolph's corpse. Moreover, one witness testified that, the night before the murder, he had heard Hodges talking about how Randolph was going to be murdered at the train station. Despite this, the results were the same. After less than a week in jail, Hodges was released on bail. Neither Col. Aiken nor Hodges faced further legal consequences after they were released, and conservative leaders had some success in making their arrests into a cause célèbre.

A big break in the case occurred in January 1869. That month the chief constable arrested one of the accused triggermen: William J. Tolbert. His arrest was reported on January 11. The details are somewhat confused. Newspapers reported that he'd been arrested in swamp, but he evidently had already agreed to turn himself into the authorities. After his arrest, he told authorities that his two accomplices, Joshua Logan and John West Talbert, fled the state after being given $1,000 as aid.

A month after his arrest, Tolbert testified before a congressional subcommittee charged with investigated the election held in November. His testimony was explosive. He not only offered a detailed account of the murder of Randolph, but he explained how leading conservatives had been behind the murder and other acts of political violence.

Legal efforts to hold Randolph's murderers accountable ended on a strange note. Tolbert escaped from the state penitentiary on August 2, 1869 (after he'd been imprisoned for roughly half a year). In December, an Abbeville constable (Jerry Hollingshead) received information that Tolbert was at a dance held in a private home. The constable went to arrest Tolbert, but when he attempted to do so, Tolbert resisted and the two exchanging gunfire. The constable was seriously injured, and Tolbert killed. This brought an end to the government's efforts to obtain justice for B. F. Randolph.

Tolbert's Testimony

William K. Tolbert's testimony at the February 1869 congressional committee hearing offers a lot of insight into the nature of conservative political violence. Tolbert said that he and his two accomplices (Talbert and Logan) had originally gone to Hodges' Depot to hear Randolph speak, However, when they got there, they were told that he would not be speaking there. Instead, he would be taking the train to Anderson and delivering a speech there. Tolbert learned of this from the group of men who had gathered around the train station. The group included Langdon Corner, James Cochran, Fletcher Hodges, and John Brooks.

The men gathered at the train station were there because they were angry with Randolph. Many said that he had been engaged in provocative political speech. At one public meeting, he was said to have threatened to "burn up the state," a serious threat as many property-owners feared arson

The men evidently were planning attempting to murder Randolph because they had come to the train station armed, and while waiting for him, they engaged in target practice. Shortly before Randolph's train pulled in, some of the men suggested that Tolbert, Talbert, and Logan should be the shooters as they were less likely to be recognized. When Randolph's train pulled into the state, Langdon Conner asked the train conductor if Randolph was a passenger. After being told he was, Conner informed the others, and they took positions on the train platform. After Randolph changed trains and took a seat, James Cochran expressed concern that the shooters were disguised but decided that Randolph needed to be killed before he left town. Fletcher Hodges then came up to the shooters with a roll of money, and said that the money is Tolbert's once Randolph is dead. Around this time, Randolph got off his seat and walked to the platform of his car. John Brooks came over to Tolbert and others, pointed out Randolph, and instructed them to kill Jim. William K. Tolbert, Joshua Logan, and John West Talbert then shot Randolph dead and rode off.

Political violence in Abbeville

A close look at William K. Tolbert's testimony and related evidence shows that conservative political violence functioned in the manner described by Elaine Frantz in her book Ku-Klux: The Birth of the Klan during Reconstruction. Focusing on Ku Klux violence in York County, she argues that Ku Klux violence developed out a partnership between the local criminal element and conservative elites. Violent criminals, otherwise uninterested in state politics, targeted Republicans in exchange for conservatives elite's political and financial support. 

Apolitical criminals seems to be an apt descriptions of William K. Tolbert, Joshua Logan, and John West Talbert. According to Tolbert, the three shot Randolph because they were offered money by the son of the founder of Hodges' Depot. While Tolbert understandably did not present himself a a career criminal to the congressional subcommittee, this seems to be what he was. In public testimony, both conservatives and Republicans described Tolbert and the other two as notorious "bad men." Congressman George Dusenberry described them as being part of a group of "reckless men, here, who would kill man for five dollars and a little whiskey." J. A. Leland called these men a "small band of ruffians" who were a general menace to the community. Each Saturday, he said, they would engage in "rowdyism, swearing, drinking, and shooting pistols," and they would prey on freedmen during the night. Citizens were afraid to try and arrest them, and women were so frightened that they would not go around at night. 

Tolbert was a member of the democratic party, and at the time, membership provided him with considerable license to commit crime. According to Tolbert, the regional Democratic Party included a secret sub-organization that he called the Ku Klux Klan. The main function of the main function of the sub-organization was to suppress the Republican party, especially by disrupting the activities of the Union Leagues (which helped organized Black voters). They organized regular patrols to find and break up Union League meetings. They also tried to suppress the Republican vote at the November 1868 election by having Ku Kluxers go through the community, demanding that Republican voters turn over their ballots which they proceeded to destroy.

Some easy to overlook details about the murder of congressman James Martin (the assassination that directly preceded that of Randolph) suggest the manner in which criminals took advantage of the political situation. Martin was killed while transporting a barrel of whiskey. The whiskey-trade a major part of criminal activity, and getting a whole of the barrel may have been as significant a motive anything political. The previous day the ten-year old son of Congressman was sent to Martin's to pick up some whiskey, and on his way back, he was waylaid by men who took the whiskey he had purchased. Those men may have been the very same ones who murdered Congressman Martin.

It is unclear if the murder of B. F. Randolph was formally organized by the Democratic Party. Tolbert said that earlier voter suppression acts had been planned at regular party meetings but he had learned of Randolph's visit informally. However, the distinction does not seem to be that significant. A number of democrats were present for the killed, and they included the men who instructed Tolbert and the others to commit the act. 

The aftermath

What was the long-term significance of the assassination of B. F.  Randolph and other Republican politicians. The political violence certainly did not lead to the Democratic Party gaining power. The Republican Party enjoyed a strong political base as Black voters made up more than 60% of the electorate, and voter suppression was not enough to over come this. Republicans continued to win major elections until the 1876 which saw the statewide collapse of the Republican Party. 

Democrats themselves seem to have decided that political violence was ineffective. There are few recorded acts of violence after Randolph's killing, and when Ku Klux Klan violence erupted in 1871, Abbeville was not among those counties were civil liberties were suspending, indicating that violence was not a problem there. 

At the same time, the assassination was highly significant. On the most basic level the Republican party lost a leading politician. Randolph was hard to replace too: few Republicans in South Carolina had qualifications comparable to Randolph's college education and military service. 

The killing also appears to have had a chilling effect on local Republican leaders. A number appear to have become political allies of the Democrats in 1876. Aaron Mitchell, one of men who had accompanied Randolph on the fatal train ride, gave political speeches in favor of the Democratic candidate and was even participated in an Abbeville rally for the Democratic gubernatorial candidate, Wade Hampton. In congressional testimony, he explained that he had joined the Democrats because he was disgusted with the corruption and incompetence of the Republican party, but certainly, witnessing the murder of leading Republican must have impressed upon him the power of the Democrats.

Sources 

1. "Arrest of Colonel D. Wyatt Aiken" The daily phoenix, November 10, 1868, Image 2

2. Edgefield advertiser. [volume], November 18, 1868, Image 3

3. The daily phoenix. [volume], December 25, 1868, Image 2

4. "More arrests in Abbeville." The daily phoenix. [volume], December 30, 1868, Image 1

5. The Charleston daily news. [volume], December 31, 1868, Image 3

6. The Charleston daily news. [volume], January 12, 1869, Image 1

7. "The Randolph Murder – One of the Perpetrators Surrenders Himself." The southern enterprise. [volume], January 13, 1869, Image 2

8. "On the Wing." The Charleston daily news. [volume], January 25, 1869, Image 1

9. Abbeville press. [volume], February 19, 1869, Image 1

10. The Anderson intelligencer. [volume], March 04, 1869, Image 2

11. Abbeville press. [volume], March 12, 1869, Image 2

12. The Anderson intelligencer. [volume], March 04, 1869, Image 2

13. "The New Regime." The Charleston daily news. [volume], November 19, 1868, Image 4

14. The daily phoenix. [volume], January 13, 1869, Image 2

15. The Abbeville press and banner. [volume], December 17, 1869, Image 2

16. The daily phoenix. [volume], December 04, 1869, Image 2

17. The Charleston daily news. [volume], December 08, 1869, Image 1

Assassination in Abbeville: The murder of B. F. Randolph

B. F. Randolph
From Wikipedia

Nineteenth century Ku Klux violence reached its height in the South Carolina counties of Spartanburg, York, and Union in 1871. However, political violence in the state began three years earlier with political killings of the Republican politicians B. F. Randolph, Solomon G. W. Dill, and James Martin. These incidents took place in different parts of the state: the counties of Abbeville, Kershaw, and Newberry.

The most shocking of these murders was that of state senator B. F. Randolph. Senator Randolph was shot to death in broad daylight at the Hodges' Depot train station. His killers are often referred to as Ku Klux Klan members, but here we'll take a close look at who actually participating in the act. We'll see that incident does not fit into the usual image of Ku Klux violence, although it was undoubtably a political murder. 

The fact that Randolph was killed at Hodges' Depot is itself noteworthy as Randolph had no real connection to the town. Hodges' Depot (now just Hodges) is located in the northwestern part of the state. Now it is part of Greenwood County, but at the time, Greenwood did not exist, and the area was part of Abbeville County. Randolph was a senator for a county in the Midlands, namely Orangeburg. Randolph had never spent a significant time in the northwestern part of the state. He had come to South Carolina during the Civil War as Union soldier. Like a number of former Union soldiers, he had stayed in the state after being mustered out of the army. He first lived in Charleston, but once Reconstruction started, he became an elected official for Orangeburg.

Randolph was able to rapidly advance in state politics as post-war South Carolina presented him with great opportunities. After Congress passed the Reconstruction Acts (enfranchising Black voters), there was a great need for politicians in South Carolina who could represent newly freed Black South Carolinians, and Randolph was perfectly suited for this role. Born free in Kentucky to Back parents, he had attended Oberlin College, completing the school's college preparatory program and one year of college. After his studies, he had worked as a school principal in Buffalo, New York for a few years before the Civil War broke out and he joined the army. His college education and military experience were rare and valuable political credentials during this time. 

Randolph's first major political position was as a delegate to the 1868 South Carolina Constitutional Convention (where delegates revised the constitution in accordance with the Reconstruction Acts). He was then elected to a four-year term as the state senator for Orangeburg County.

The same traits that made Randolph a success in politics also made him into a figure of hatred for conservatives. A reporter for the New York World newspaper called described him as a "thicklipped, lustful mulatto." A number of newspapers within the state gave him the mocking nickname "Rev. Burnt District Randolph." A month before he was murdered, the Charleston Daily News published the following description of a speech he gave at the statehouse:

This allusion to the power of the press [by another senator], kindled the dormant wrath of the Burnt District [i.e. Senator Randolph]. The smoke and flames broke forth in suffocating forty. In fact the Burnt District was in its most flaming condition. Lying rebels and rampant disloyalty were the staples of his irate harangue. But the speech cannot be properly appreciated without some idea of the appearance of the poor devil in the act of uttering it. There he stood, not square, fleshy and saddle-colored as he was familiar to the citizens of Charleston before the renowned adventure that gave him his sobriquet; but long, lank, cadaverous, loosely jointed, his leather colored skin surcharged with bile and clinging dark and discolored to his high cheek bones, his long black coat hanging from his shoulders as if from two pegs, his beard unshaven for three days, a proportionate amount of dirt unwashed, his left hand holding the lapel of his coat, his right army pumping up and down in his favorite gesture which he learned in his boyhood in his efforts to procure the water which he carried on his head in the streets of his native Mud Town. . . . The amount of malice that animates this scarecrow can only be accounted for by supporting the heart (?) to be as hideous as the body.

While this was one of the longer diatribes against him, the general tone and attitude was indicative of his general treatment by the press. 

Map of Abbeville County
From South Carolinians Library

Background to the Murder

In light of the inflammatory rhetoric published by the newspapers, it is not perhaps not surprising that political violence began breaking out. The new state constitution, which granted Black men a number of political rights including the right to vote, was ratified on April 16, 1868. Prior to that, conservatives hoped that they could defeat attempts to enfranchise former slaves through conventional political means like organizing voters to oppose the newly proposed constitution. Those efforts were soundly defeated. Not only was the constitution ratified, but in late April, an election was held under the new constitution and it resulted in a Republican-dominated state government being elected by that state's Black majority. It was then that conservatives turned to political violence as a means for regaining power.

The first acts of political violence were small-scale threats and violent acts against Republican voters, especially local Black political leaders. The first major political assassination took place on June 4, a little over a month after the new state legislature was elected. That evening, a group men approached the home of a Kershaw County congressman, Solomon G. W. Dill, and then discharged firearms. The senator and another man were killed, and the senator's wife was seriously injured. 

The murder occurred during a time of heightened tensions as an election for county offices had been held on the previous day. It is not entirely clear why Congressman Dill was targeted as he is a somewhat obscure figure. He only appeared in the historical record after his 1868 election as a convention delegate. He was a white man in his late forties who had spent his life in South Carolina, much of in Charleston. He appears to have moved to Kershaw to serve in politics. Dill was killed before the state legislature convened, so he must have been killed for his political rhetoric (which was incendiary) and the general offense of being a white South Carolinian aligned with the Republican party.

The next major political murder took place on October 5. Abbeville County's congressman, James Martin, was killed while traveling home by wagon from the village of Abbeville. Three men on horseback overtook the wagon and shot Martin with pistols. 

Other than being a member of the Republican Party, Congressman Martin does not seem to have done anything particularly controversial. He was an Irish immigrant who had worked as a merchant in Abbeville before the Civil War. He did not have much of a political record, and he appears to have been killed as a part of a general plan to assassinate the county's Republican legislators. The other legislators survived simply because they took major precautions after Martin's murder. For example, Abbeville's senator, after learning of Congressman Martin's death, slept in the woods for several nights and then disguised himself and traveled by train to the state capitol of Columbia.

R. F. Randolph
From Library of Congress

Randolph's Murder

Senator Randolph was a far more prominent politician than Congressman Martin or Senator Dill. That September, he was elected chairman of the Republican's State Central Committee. It was in that capacity he was traveling around the state. 

Randolph was well aware of the problems with political violence in the state. The previous month, he proposed a resolution to ask the governor what the legislature needed to preserve the peace, noting that "many lawless acts have recently been committed" and "the former leaders of late rebellion by their journals and public speakers are again advising and urging resistance to civil authority."

Randolph was personally warned about the potential for violence in Abbeville County. After Abbeville's state senator fled to Columbia following the murder of Congressman Martin, he met with Randolph. Randolph had been appointed to make speeches in Abbeville, and the county's senator warned that doing so "would be very dangerous for you." 

Despite the warning, Randolph traveled to the county on October 16, only a few weeks after the murder of Congressman Martin. He traveled with Associate Justice Solomon L. Hoge, a prominent Republican. They planned to speak at the village of Abbeville, but before arriving there, their train stopped in Hodges' Depot, so they could switch trains. 

As Randolph and Hoge were changing trains, Col. D. Wyatt Aiken, a prominent planter active in regional conservative politics, approached and engaged them in a conversation. He asked if was speaking with B. F. Randolph. After Senator Randolph affirmed that he was, Col. Aiken told him, "You damned son of a bitch, you have no business here." He went on to warn that, if all white men were like him, Randolph would not set foot again in his railroad car. Randolph stood firm and said that he was going to take the train to Abbeville and speak. The conversation then ended with Col. Aiken telling him that, if he did so, he would never see the capital city of Columbia again. 

Randolph and Hoge delivered speeches the next day. Hoge left that evening, while Randolph planned to leave the next day for the town of Anderson, where he was scheduled to speak. Unfortunately for him, just as Col. Aiken had threatened, conservatives in Hodges' Depot and the neighboring village of Cokesbury began planning to murder him. That evening in Cokesbury, Henry Nash, a Black man who was running for county commissioner, overhead two white men, Fletcher Hodges and Sam Simmons, discussing their plans for the next day. They not only stated that they were going kill Randolph, but that anyone who wanted to see him killed should go to the depot when the train whistled.

The next day, Randolph boarded the train, and when it pulled into Hodges' Depot, a large group of white men had gathered around the depot. Estimates of the group ranged from about eleven to fifty men. The group included Fletcher Hodges, the man who had planned to kill him the previous night. Also present were two local Black political leaders, Aaron Mitchell and Thomas Williamson, who were there to greet Randolph. Aaron had brought his daughter. Seemingly oblivious to the danger he was in, Randolph grabbed his baggage and then switched trains. As he did so, he began chatting with Aaron and Thomas about routine political matters. After finding a seat on the new train and setting down his personal belongings, he went to the door of his train car, continuing talking to Aaron and Thomas. At that moment, the assassins struck.

Some of the white men at the depot had begun walking up and down the train, looking into the train cars. When Randolph emerged from his car, a number of men drew revolvers and three of them opened fire. Randolph was hit multiple times. Aaron Mitchell was standing less than two feet away from him, and Randolph's blood splashed him in his face. The whole scene was witnessed by Aaron's daughter.

Aaron Mitchell had come armed with a pistol which he drew and pointed at one of the assassins. That assassin bent down to avoid being shot, and the other two pointed their pistols at Aaron, daring him to shoot: "Let him shoot. I will fix him." Aaron put his gun away and returned to the train car. The assassins then began walking away from the train, taking care to pick up their percussion caps as they went. Once they got about 50 yards away, they put their guns away. They then walked to a store owned by James Cochran. When they got close, two men emerged from the store and asked, "Did you get him?" One of the assassins replied, "By God, we have got him." They then got on horses and rode away.

After the men left, Aaron Mitchell ran over to inspect Randolph and found him dead. While he was inspecting the corpse, Fletcher Hodges (who had spoken about murdering Randolph on the previous day) came over and asked, "What is this?"Aaron responded, "They have shot this man." Fletcher asked Aaron who had shot him and got an evasive answer, "It is not worth while to ask me; the men are known and there is not a man here but knows them." Fletcher responded with an implicit threat: "Well, you had better mind how you talk; you don't know whether they are known or not."

After the exchange, Fletcher walked over to the Randolph corpse and exclaimed, "Yesterday you boasted, and thanked your God, that negro blood run through your veins, but now it is running on the ground." Upset at the remark, Aaron began to exchange words with Fletcher, but he was taken aside by another one of the white men, Langdon Conner. Langdon advises him, "Aaron, you come away from here and shut your mouth or some of them will hurt you." Aaron followed the advice, but before leaving, he tried to take some of Randolph's personal effects. However, a third man, Pompey Davis, stopped him and told him to leave it. Finally, Aaron gathered a group of four Black men to move Randolph's corpse, but the white men in the crowd would not let him, so he got in his train car and returned home.

Randolph's corpse was left lying on the ground overnight. The next day, a group of men placed him in a coffin, and it was sent by train to Columbia. On Sunday October 18, funeral services for Randolph were held at the Bethel A.M.E. Church. He apparently was given a cemetery burial, but it unclear where exactly he was buried. In 1871, a new cemetery, Randolph Cemetery, was named in his honor, and was supposedly reburied there, but no headstone or burial plot has been identified. 

Closing thoughts

At the start of this post, I observed that Randolph's murder is often referred to as one of the first incidents of Ku Klux Klan violence, but a close look at the event shows important differences from Ku Klux Klan violence. The incident differed from typical Ku Klux Klan violence in that the target was a statewide political leader, rather than a local leader. Moreover, the murder had none of the theatrics of typical Ku Klux attacks: the murderers didn't wear any of the elaborate disguises or pretend to be supernatural creature. They also didn't make any effort to disguise their actions. Not only did the murder occur in broad daylight in front of a large audience, but it was publicized in advance, and political supporters were invited to show up. In a later post, we'll take a closely look at the assassins, and this will further highlight the nature of the murder. The assassins were well-known local criminals who were given "a roll of money" for killing.

The murder of B. F. Randolph is unusual for an additional reason. He actually received a measure of justice. One of the assassins was arrested, imprisoned, and then later killed by law enforcement after escaping jail. While imprisoned, he gave testimony about the killing. This, together with personal records of Col. Wyatt, provides an unusually close look at murder from the perspective of the perpetrators.

The daily phoenix. August 21, 1869

Sources

1) "A Brace of Carpet-Baggers–The Men who would Rule South Carolina. The Orangeburg news, August 8, 1868, p. 1.

2) "State Republican Convention." The Anderson intelligencer. [volume], September 16, 1868, p. 2

3) "From the State Capitol." The Charleston daily news. [volume], September 23, 1868, Image 1

4) "Randolph's Scape" The Orangeburg news. [volume], April 11, 1868, Image 5

5) "Dreadful Murder." The daily phoenix. [volume], October 09, 1868, Image 1

6) The National Archives in Washington D.C.; Record Group: Records of the Bureau of the Census; Record Group Number: 29; Series Number: M653; Residence Date: 1860; Home in 1860: Abbeville, South Carolina; Roll: M653_1212; Page: 37; Family History Library Film: 805212

7) The Charleston daily news. [volume], September 11, 1868, Image 1

8) Abbeville press. [volume], October 09, 1868, Image 3

9) "'Burnt District' on the Rampage." The Anderson intelligencer. [volume], September 09, 1868, Image 2

10) Keowee courier. [volume], December 10, 1869, Image 2

11) "One Thousand Dollar Reward!" The daily phoenix. [volume], August 21, 1869, Image 1

Black life in Chesterfield: London Craig

Historical marker for the John Craig House
Photo courtesy of author

A major challenge in researching the history of Reconstruction-era Chesterfield County is the lack of records of Black people. The entire county was largely poor and rural with the only major economic center being Cheraw, so the people who appear in extent records are largely white political leaders who lived there. (An important exception is records of the Southern Claims Commission which includes testimony from formerly enslaved people about their experiences during the Civil War. Their accounts were discussed in the post "Unionists in a Confederate stronghold.")

Here we take a look at a source of information about formerly enslaved people in the town of Chesterfield. The source is a photocopy of a typewritten essay titled, "The Craig House -- Home of Soldiers." The essay can be found in the local history room of the Matheson Library in Cheraw, specifically in a file labeled, "85. Towns Other Than Cheraw Chesterfield County." There is no date or author listed, but the essay is similar to one that appears in the book Historic Houses of South Carolina. That book was published in 1921, so the essay likely dates to around that time.

The Craig Home

The essay discusses The Craig House, a historic home in the town of Chesterfield. The house plays a significant role in the local history. It physically occupies a central location in the town. Chesterfield is a small town (the population is about 1,300 today, but it was only a few hundred in the nineteenth century) centered around a small business district that is anchored by the county courthouse. 

The Craig House is a large, beautiful house located across the street from the courthouse. It naturally attracts the attention of visitors, even unwelcome ones. General Sherman made the home his headquarters when he passed through. 

The house is the oldest one in town, and it was built for the early settler, John Craig. Craig was an Irish immigrant who ran both a general store and a mill. He likely also farmed as he enslaved a large workforce (thirty-two people in 1820), and there would have been little for them to do besides farm.

John Craig's sons played a prominent role in the town. His son, Hugh, was a Methodist minister who served three terms as state congressman. Hugh's brother, William E., lived in the Craig House and farmed. William E. did not hold major elected office, but he played a role in county politics as he would host many local politicians when they visited town. The prominent Cheraw politician and lawyer, M. J. Hough, was staying with him when the Civil War broke out.

Unexpectedly, the essay on the history of the house includes an intriguing paragraph about a Black member of the household:

London, a colored boy who had been discovered in a huckleberry patch when he was about five years old, was taken care of by William E. Craig. He lived in the house as a house boy until he was old enough to join the United States Army. He is supposed to have been the first colored man from this section to join the Army. This abandoned slave boy became a worthwhile citizen who was highly respected by both white and colored races.

The paragraph appears right after a discussion of the Craig family's service in the Confederate Army ("[William E.'s son] received three Minie balls."). In context, it appears to serve as a defense of the Craig family, and by extension Confederate South Carolinians. The Craig family strongly supported the Confederacy, the author seems to argue, but they should not be condemned for fighting for slavery as they were very kind to a "colored boy." 

Certainly, a modern reader wishes the author had written more about London. We can flesh out this account by drawing on other records. 

The Craig House
Photo courtesy of author

The life of London Craig

London did not know when he was born, but he estimated his birth year to be 1865, the year that the Civil War ended. On his death certificate, his mother is listed as "unknown," but his father is intriguingly listed as one "Richard Norwood." The fact that the father has a last name is significant as enslaved people rarely used last names. His father could have adopted his enslaver's family name, but the lack of information suggests that London may have been the son of an enslaved woman and her white enslaver, or another white man in the household. One possible candidate is a white miller named "Richard Norwood" who was living in nearby Union County, North Carolina and in Chester County, South Carolina around the time of London's birth. Richard was twenty-five years in 1865, so he certainly could have fathered London. Ultimately, we can only speculate who his parents were and why he ended up abandoned in a huckleberry patch as a young child.

I haven't find records explicitly confirming London's presence in the Craig household, but there is strong circumstantial evidence. As an adult, London adopted the "Craig" family name, calling himself "London Craig" or "London C. Craig." The account about the Craig House invites us to take this as evidence of the close and friendly relationship between London and William C., but of course, this should be taken with a grain of salt. The use of the "Craig" family name connected London to a prominent local family, an important thing in small town South Carolina, and using a different last name risked offending them.

London is said to have joined the Craig household at age five. This would date his arrival in the Craig household to 1870. The timeline makes sense. That year was during Reconstruction, a time when the plantation system was in chaos and life was generally disrupted. Everyone in the Craig household was regularly reminded of this state of things as the courthouse, just across the street, had been left in ruins by Union troops. Lacking the resources to rebuild, judicial proceedings were held in the Methodist church, the most suitable building still standing.

London arrived at the Craig House right when it was the center of some of the most impactful local political events. The year 1870 was not only an election year, but the year of an election of unparalleled importance. Political conservatives were seeking to overthrow the local Republican government that had come to power following the political enfranchisement of Black men. Following an election marked by ballot stuffing and voter suppression, the conservatives regained political power. The actual ballot counting took place just down the street from the Craig House. 

Whatever his motivations, William E.'s decision to have London live with him saved London from tremendous hardship. With the planation economy in shambles and racial tensions at a high, a Black orphan like London,  without powerful guardians like the Craig family, would have been exposed to poverty, starvation, and violence.

The account of the Craig House states that London lived in the house until he was old enough to join the army. This would have been around 1883, the year that London turned eighteen. William E. died in 1872, and from that time until 1883, the house was run by William's daughter, Sarah, and her husband, W. J. Hanna. London is not listed among the people living with them in the 1880 census or anywhere else that I've looked. This could be a simple oversight on the part of the census-taker, or London could have already left the area.

Unfortunately, I have not been able to find any records of London's miliary service. As with his absence from the 1880 census, this could simply be an error with the record-keeping, or it could indicate something more significant such as the fact that the Craig House account is simply wrong.

The next recorded date we have is 1891. That is the date of his marriage to a young Black woman named Theresa. While I can't verify London's military service, such service is consistent with the timeline. The period when London appears to have left Chesterfield is approximately an eight-year period, a reasonable length for military service. 

After marrying Theresa, London remained in the town of Chesterfield. In 1900, he was working as a farmer. Whatever he did for work during the 1880s and 1890s, he was good at it as he had earned enough money to own his own house. This was a rare achievement for Black man in Jim Crow South Carolina. 

The 1900 census did not record the addresses of homes, so it is unclear where exactly London was living. They likely were living near downtown Chesterfield since the records show that they were living near many professionals and local officials such as the town constable and the county treasurer. A comparison of London with his Black neighbors highlights his personal achievements. Most Black families rented their houses and were headed by men working as common laborers.

The census shows Black people and white people living in close proximity to each other. Likely, the Black people were living on side streets. Before Jim Crow, the different races had lived in close proximity to each other, often on the same land. In the early years of segregation, this housing pattern often evolved into one where white families lived on a main street and Black families on nearby side streets. Only later did white and Black neighborhood become physically distant.

At some point in the 1910s, London found work as a mail carrier. This was a plum job for a Black man during Jim Crow. As a federal job, it offered better wages and stronger job security than almost any other job available to a Black man. The position suggests that he was held in high regard by local white community leaders (who exerted strong control over federal appointments). They would have been concerned about giving such a good, public-facing job to an "uppity" Black man.

In 1910, London and Theresa were living on Church St., a street off Main Street. The area was similar to the one where they were living in 1900: the neighborhood was a mixture of Black and White families with the Black families being largely working-class families. It was still the case that most families were headed by a men who earned a living in a menial job like farm laborer or house servant. The only other middle-class family was headed by the Methodist preacher, Caeser C. Robertson, who presumably preached at a nearby church.

In 1920, the street London and Theresa were living on was renamed "Railroad Street," but otherwise their living arrangements were the same. London died of natural causes on June 4 of that year. Theresa lived for more than twenty more years, passing away on October 11, 1943. While she gave birth to three children, none of them lived to adulthood, so this brought the family to an end.

View of Main Street from Chesterfield Courthouse
The stoplight in the upper right-hand corner is the intersection of Main and Page
Photo courtesy of author

Modern map of Chesterfield
From Google Maps

Sources

1) Fourth Census of the United States, 1820; Census Place: Chesterfield, South Carolina; Page: 122; NARA Roll: M33_119; Image: 252

2) Year: 1910; Census Place: Court House, Chesterfield, South Carolina; Roll: T624_1455; Page: 4a; Enumeration District: 0036; FHL microfilm: 1375468

3) Year: 1900; Census Place: Court House, Chesterfield, South Carolina; Roll: 1523; Page: 3; Enumeration District: 0021

4) South Carolina Department of Archives and History; Columbia, South Carolina; South Carolina Death Records; Year Range: 1900-1924; Death County or Certificate Range: Chesterfield. Certificate Number 013004, Volume Number 22.